SCORE! rather, close but no cigar

if y'all look over to the right-hand column, my plea for marriage to a guy --- any guy, race, color, creed not important --- as long as he was born here in the UK can be read under 'about the godless'.

some dimwit, i mean, some wonderfully generous dude finally addressed this in mail the other day, so fuckin' A! he's 35 years old (mmmm, um, sorry, i mean, kewl!), is a writer himself (double kewl but fuuuck...i might have to give like opinions on his output and such. 's okay; i lie real good, i mean, i'm good at encouraging and stuff). but wait...after his long list of passably intelligent 'getting to know you' questions, what do i see? 'who are your favorite actors?'


bloody hell, points off for moronacy. um, dude...consider the hard-on i just had for you like, totally wilted.


*sigh* i'm thinking 'fuck, fuck, fuck, is he serious'? dude you've so negated the good thoughts (and hopes!) i had reading you, it's pathetic. i mean, i'd rather spend the... um, let's see... one year and almost seven months single and as an American citizen by myself and on my own till legal UK application time.

AFAIC, the importance of your question could only mean watching shitloads of shite TV and reruns and crap film rentals (all prolly American). i'm cringing cause i just remembered the shite film i watched with Jake on the tourbus a few weeks back was Kelly's Heroes and he questioned me relentlessly and i was all WTF do you care? when i wasn't all WHY? so as went Jake, so, i assume, go you with the feeble attempts at endless discussions an' all. damn.

i ended up being all polite and stuff and actually answered his idiotic question. i wrote 'oh, the regular gang of weirdos and nuts, y'know, the usual. Gary Oldman, Brad Dourif. Kevin Spacey. Dennis Hopper. um, sometimes Jack Nicholson. Robert deNiro (sometimes). then i threw him one out of left field: Montgomery Clift. and another: Robert Mitchum (i imagined him Googling his ass off at that point).

dude! i won't shame you by copying your name here but, for fuck's sake! i'm sitting here reading Baudrillard and y'all wanna know my favorite actors? i honestly didn't think to include the word 'intelligent' when tossing off my little desire at right, but maybe i should've. DAMN!


i didn't think i hadda say it, but serious enquiries only, please. :-)

*cough* *choke* *hack* bah...

i'be ill agaid... i've got this snot-so lovely very bronchial cough that somewhat frightens me along with over 100F temp and the rest of the usual flu-ey symptoms. when last i felt like this, i said 'since i'm so rarely ill, when i do succumb to whatever, my normally sombre thinking turns even darker, so nothing new there'.



























posting badly concealed displays of suicidal ideation when i should be at my GP's? *cough* *choke* *hack* tawkin' to teh anthropomorphosised kitteh on my screen and hoping they'll tawk back? coughing my brains out? all the above? bah... the rest of october's fucked --- nothing more on the horizon and everyone's away or too busy to talk to me anyway. there's the Sex Pistols gig in London but that ain't till 9. november... shit.

but whoa, more reason to despair: Paul Fox of the Ruts died the other day. i can only imagine how Segs and Henry Rollins feel (and Christine and Chris and everyone else who went to his Cancer Benefit Gig a few months back; gonna mail Segs, Chris and Chris in a second). RIP, dude. :-(

anyway, thanks mostly to Marianne and Chris M for cheering me up by sending me photos and stuff yesterday. :-) i miss y'all, i miss everyone, miss Chris and Mark and Mike as well as walking around Brixton and wherever in London... whoa, i'm like entertaining dangerous thoughts (of leaving the flat, unscheduled trips on the Shame Train, like that). steady grrl, LOL. but bah, i need a change.

things that make y'go...

things that make y'go 'i feel good': i actually slept for like ten hours straight last night (well, i wasn't straight when i crashed, but that's a given). anyway, thanks to all that lovely sleep i so badly needed, i woke up this morning fairly well-rested and whoa, what a difference... i'm like marvelling here cause people actually wake up this way every day, right?

things that make y'go 'wake up, Chuck!':


(14,00 saturday: thanks for fixing, dude). things that make y'go into Anal Mode: i'm trying to make some sense outta my overstuffed Inbox, weeding through the massive stash of mails, music and images sent me, deleting shit here, stashing stuff there... then i found some wild shit i'd totally forgotten about and bingo: i've got (more) blackmail ammo. :-)

things that make y'go UH-OH (as your heart sinks and your stomach gets queasy): although it seems like years already, it was only last month when i posted:


but now i can come clean, so to speak: to everyone who's actually asked me to destroy whatever mail or forget whatever shit they'd been so very foolish as to confide, i always tell 'em 'no worries', of course. but i'm here to say that in all truth, i really haven't destroyed shit and although my memory is teh suck, i have no trouble remembering controversial things.

so consider this a warning: i've saved EVERYthing that could feasibly be used against youse in future. well, those of youse who were so very stupid as to trust me in the first place (which all still amazes me that people still tell me all this wild stuff and expect me to keep my fuckin' mouth shut).

so yes, for the most part, your secrets are safe --- with one caveat that i didn't think worth mentioning when y'all begged me to destroy or forget whatever: all your secrets are safe with me, as long as we're getting along. but if you cross me (or worse yet, have actually harmed me or mine in whatever way), i've got mails and things that right now, i'm contemplating sending along to the appropriate party or publicising here and at Free A3.

anyway, i think it's a scream that although i have such a big mouth, people insist on using me as their sounding board and confiding their deepest (and in some cases, most disgusting) secrets to me, and this has been going on for my entire life. i personally never got it... i mean, i would never trust myself and it amazes me that others do. i mean, c'mon... i never hid who i am, like:


BTW, i'm totally aware that all the above just might keep people from telling me their shit in future and that's fine with me. i've got enough crap flying around in my head to keep straight, years of stuff that i somehow find myself on the receiving end and i still dunno why.

things that make y'go 'awwww': moving right along onto things more lightful and away from my spite gland, this from Christine: '...here's a couple of photos I took of a raccoon rock I painted about 10 years ago. The kitty was a sad little stray that we found named Dusty, he's no longer with us but we fattened him up and he had a good life'.



things that make y'go 'today i learnt sum'thin': thanks to Michael Quinion's Worldwide Words, i learnt a new one this morning:

pelf: '...Money, especially when gained dishonestly or dishonourably ... The first sense of 'pelf' in English was of objects of value that had been stolen or taken as the spoils of war...

'...It could also mean detritus or waste: in 1589 George Puttenham said in The Arte of English Poesie that “Pelf is properly the scraps or shreds of tailors and of skinners”. Dialect senses have included grass, roots, weeds and other waste material raked off the land. ... All in all, not a word you will want to make friends with.'

LOL, 'pelf'. I could use it in a sentence naming someone who recently tried to scam me and mine but why bother giving her the attention she so badly craves?

anyway, thanks to Chris, Sian, Mark, Marianne and i forgot who else for the phonecalls... um, but why does everyone ring when they know i'm getting to hate the phone again? cause if it rings one more time this weekend, this'll be me:


sunday 07,01: i can hear the church bells ringing from the distance of Lower Clifton Hill right now. when i peer out over the balcony to Brandon Park and dig the entire scene, i see the England of my dreams, with all the fog swirling and the mists rising from the damp ground, through the dripping trees with leaves falling and the fucked thing is, i can't take any photos cause it's too dark. Brandon Park appears to be like Sherlock Holmes country, as Arthur Conan Doyle wrote it with the moors and all...

things that make y'go WTF?: why is my damn landline ringing so early on a sunday morning? ...this better be good. |-(

07,05: oh WOW. *hinty esoteric mode* why can't everyone's damn secrets or whatever be as good as this one? try harder, people! *snigger*

it's all about me

thanks to Dave for capturing my very selfish, self-centred and totally self-absorbed life's credo:


so yup, to hammer my point home even further, it's all about me and my voracious, insatiable appetite for sticking my nose into bidness that totally ain't mine, especially when it touches upon the object of my personal monomania: the future of the Alabama 3 v. the music biz.

adjacently *snigger* this'll serve to relieve some who care for me, those who check in here and, when i haven't been around for a while, get all upset thinking i've left this mortal coil or whatever. what i really wanna tell 'em is, 'there's this wonderful invention called "cellphones". if you're so fucking freaked that i might've checked out, why didn't you ring me?' LOL, i still haven't gotten a decent answer to that and totally don't expect one.

back to Alabama 3 and the music biz, i'm copying from here (spurred on by Chuck's post here):

'First Radiohead, then Nine Inch Nails, then Oasis and Jamiroquai, now Madonna are all ditching their record labels. Some are going it alone, some like Madonna are signing a $120M deal with concert promotion companies.

'It's officially here --- like "The Big One" threatening to fracture California, seismic events in digital media over the past seven years have accelerated the rate at which the industry has sunk into the abyss. In 20 years, I suspect all record labels will look like concert promoters and boutique firms focused on audience creation a retention through marketing instead of distribution.

'TechMeme's Duncan Riley notes, "Madonna may well be the tipping point from where we will now see a flood of recording artists dumping record labels and where todays model will shortly become a footnote in Wikipedia." ...

'... Loved or hated, Madonna is once again blazing a new trail and I'd expect we'll start seeing other big defections. Somewhere, someone is working on a leaderboard with contract expiration dates for major artists and odds of them breaking with their labels. This should serve as a warning to other industries --- adapt to the digital age or wither'.

after reading above at Chuck's site, i talked to some in the know about all things Web and music and guerrilla 'Net promo. so i lifted this next from mail convo i had after i went 'some people (e.g., Rob) have huge issues when they meet anyone who's expert in whatever area they're not. and then they end up dismissing whatever idea, just cause they don't get it or don't wanna admit someone knows something they don't or is well-versed in an area about which they haven't a fucking clue'.

i'm totally with my anonymous correspondent here:

'...To me, I can't imagine not being interested in somebody (who you have reason to think isn't liable to fuck you over) saying "Look --- we're going to make you a shitload of money and you can put out exactly the material you want to put out, just sign this and don't worry about how it all works," but that's just me'.

'...There's a real limited opportunity here for a couple of small bands to ride in the publicity slipstream of the big acts that are throwing down at the moment; soon it won't even be newsworthy'.

TESTIFY, BROTHER! to everyone else, y'all might be totally thinking:


yeah, i'm sorry if the above doesn't make much sense, but it's not really directed towards youse but to Larry Love. *cough* yo Rob, consider this as yet another kick in your way fine ass --- we're The Weeping Women Of The Web for a damn good reason, so wake the fuck up, already!

why is the above all about me? cause apart from the subject being near and dear, reaching straight down to the centre of my cold, cold heart, the thing of it is, if ANYone Alabama 3-ish ever sees the light, i'll wish to be in the frontlines of any 'Net effort, rallying the forces to push the music, if only by virtue of having studied these things for ages now. and as an aside, i must say that after talking to him on the tourbus on this very topic last week, Orlando's totally on the right track so let's hope the others fall in line, pronto.

in other news, i'm unpacking and just back from an extended stay in meatspace, having made a very sudden visit to Wherever, England on wednesday. they never learn... all through that night and most of yesterday, the poor boy was forced to endure the latest bout of my incessant ri-moaning. but his British manners prevailed (as i knew they would). *giggle*

although i hate to go out (unless there's a gig and even then, it's a struggle) and i knew i'd be swamped with last minute shite and totally demoralised thanks to the hurry-uppity, i went anyway. when asked in mail, i told another friend: 'i HAD to go; he's like a(nother) lifeline to who i am cause lately when i'm alone i very quickly forget. this never happened to me before and i like feel myself sinking deep down into the usual dee-pression. and without the comfort of the old narcolepsy, mind. :-(

anyway, i was met at the station, engulfed in a breathtaking bear hug thanks to which i almost suffocated, and then before dinner, dumped my things at the most charming B&B i've ever been. then i took this photo of wednesday night's totally fabaroo sunset:


*sigh* yet another teeny-tiny photo; i guess you had to be there to dig the awesomeness or whatever. *continues unpacking* whoa, this just flew into my cellphone from The Guitarplayer Who's Really And Truly None Other Than The One And Only Rock Freebase (to whom i stupidly confided how much i miss talking to him on a regular basis):

Mark @1518: 'How many animals can you fit into a pair of tights? 2 calfs, 1 beaver, 1 ass, 1 pussy, countless hares, the occasional cock. And 1 dead fish no fucker can find'.

um... thank you, Non Sequitur Boy, for momentarily cheering me up (the keyword being 'momentarily'). and you're not the only one --- with Chris gone, others have been sending me things like teh LOL kitteh; here's my fave this week:


moving right along, here's today's Dose O' Serenity, a truly pink dolphin (thanks, Christine):


but apart from the serene which i so badly need, i'm home alone and despite anything else, i'm feeling a bit fragile now. *continues unpacking* wait --- i just found something i totally forgot was there. :-)

*sniiifff* *cough* apart from the glorious remains of the other night, i've been trying to internalise things of a placid nature, in order to calm and steady me, as i attempt to focus on my next little project, yet another something about which i won't talk --- yet. but i can safely say it's gonna be a huge thrill to everyone into Alabama 3 (especially myself, not the least reason being cause i'll have a little hand in it). but back to dismal reality and internalising aesthetics, when i WUTM and opened the vertical blinds, i got an eyeful quite similar to this:


fuck it --- i can't internalise shit now cause i'm all diverted (SLIGO! SLIGO! SLIGO! *sob*) and anyway, *whispers* here it comes: 1, 2, 3: it's all about me. apart from when it's not, like right now thanks Marianne --- she did this to me:


ummm, remind me to kill you next time i see you... at Sian's stoned Sleepy Do next month in Cardiff, perhaps? *evil* LOL, you've been warned.

in other news, happy birthday Tanya, Stephen R and Brian. and thank you, Chris, for being the voice of reason. i love you, Babe. :-)

monday don't mean shit

thanks to Dave's most excellent photo skilz, here's Segs in the lobby of the Astoria last sunday night, after playing onstage with the Alabama 3 (at L, next to some dude to whom i was introduced but forgot his name).


anyway, Segs (the poor man) was totally un-noticed until i opened up my big fat mouth and shouted 'Yo, d00d! SEGGgssszzzs! so good to see you with the band again, you were great tonight...' which, of course, drew a crowd. but thanks to his lovely British manners, he stood there, held captive as i moaned to him on things like 'i miss your bass and i wish you'd never left... *sob* ... two guitars... *sob* ... loops ... *sob* ... no bassplayer ... *sob* ... has Rob totally lost it? ... *sob* ... TWO GUITARS?!? ...*sob* ...'

after he quit laughing, he was gracious, modest and diplomatic (so not me) and he didn't even preen or anything. but when i launched into an update of the subject known as 'me and Christine', he once again raised one of his way sexy eyebrows and looked a bit ill (he gave me the same weirded out look he had on last year at Lost Vagueness). *snigger* sorry, Segs dude, but it's all true and thank you again, for hearing me ri-moan. *whispers* not that you actually had any choice. :-)

more Alabama 3 MOR Tour: check out the lovely photos that Nottydread posted from Cork on 10. october and Belfast on the 13th. thanks so much, dude, they verily help to bring it all back. i totally love this one of Devlin:


yes, i know there're other, to some eyes, 'better' photos of her, but i'm a straight grrl and things like exposed body bits of the female kind as well as shooting her from a way below angle totally do nothing for me. anyway, my fave of The Spirit:


more lovely Devlin, this time in Belfast:


right, after they played Cardiff, i mentioned but failed to say that AFAIC, one of the highlights of the MOR Tour's the increased prominence of The Guitarplayer Who's Really, Truly and Verily Rock Freebase especially each time he's 'there when they crucified the Lord'. i'm so pleased that Nottydread captured Devlin halo'ing Rock:


and i'm so waiting for whatever pseudo Christian righteous alarmists to call attention to this shit, in a 'when Lennon said the Beatles were more popular than Jesus, mountains of their records were torched' kinda way, cause at this point in time, negative publicity's better than none at all. so calling all self-righteous dipshits! Alabama 3's like totally mocking your saviour! *falls upon deaf ears* *sigh* *to self* we must try harder.

this next pic's somewhat troubling cause IMO, the flesh and blood man's been replaced by the very plastic Rock Freebase Action Figure:


speaking of whom, here's the latest proof of the anguished facade that passes for my life (from mail to Dave): 'just got off phone with Mark (16,56), my day is complete!' *rolls eyes* LOL, sad but true.

what's blasting: Bulletproof and U Don't Danse 2 Tekno, both recorded at the Cambridge Folk Festival 26. july 2007 (thank you anonymous dude who wants to protect his anonymity). R-click and save, please and enjoy. :-)