Friday, 29 February 2008

off to London (Sunday Noms edition)

O HAI n welcum ––> finally! Endlich! sumtiem this week i learnt bestest wai to akshully annoy PPL, much moar better than going 'You are very wise' or 'If you say so' each & ebry tiem after they tawk; sumpthin' that TLY knocks them into Anger rite qwik is to speek only in LOL Kitteh tawk. and cos teh LOL Kitteh haz short attenshun sp– oh wow! coke! *snorggle!*

whoa, wot's thatchoo say? sumpthin' about London?

liek that. *preenz* u go O RLY? – i go yup trooly. tonite & tmrw nite iz febuewy Outlaw & nxt day we meet for Sunday Noms @Prince o' Wales (meens we haz fuds). ooh, when lookin 4 PoW link, i gotz Coldharbour Lane: 'With a nod to the The Rolling Stones, Brixton-based band Alabama 3 named their debut album Exile on Coldharbour Lane after the road...'

4 sunday we awreddy gotz Seany, Marianne (both outta Dublin), JubX2, me 'n' Chris (seprtly natch), Willie (& hiz riceburner... SRY! hiz bike outta Glasgow *whispers* not rilly SRY, Willie, nyah), Angie, Pam, Stevie & teh rest of teh ushool suspektz.

BTW if U haven't bought Rock Freebase's solo project, Western Desert, U iz missing out on totally fabaroo music and teh wildest bargain u'll ever get, BIGtime. oops, taxi heer, gotz 2 go, KTHXBAI! :-)

Thursday, 28 February 2008

goodbye, cruel world / hello, ironic twist

Henry Miller: 'Somehow, the realization that nothing was to be hoped for had a salutary effect upon me. For months, for years, in fact, all my life, I had been looking forward to something happening, some extrinsic event that would alter my life, and now suddenly, inspired by the absolute hopelessness of everything, I felt as though a great burden had been lifted from my shoulders.'

warning: i'm about to get all cryptic and i'm totally not sorry, 'cryptic' as i simultaneously attempt to be proactive by addressing the forthcoming mails, mails which fly in (usually w/i the first 24 hours) whenever i drop an esoteric turd and which, in essence, read 'TELL ME!' *rolls eyes* yes, this is my feeble effort to ward them off, so if you don't want your frustration gland threatened or if you're sick and tired of thinking 'why does she do this shit?' get out while the gittin's good. as well, the answer to 'why?' is cause this is my journal (she said for the 50,000th time). no, i don't give a damn who reads it; why do you ask? ;-)

anyway, above title (stoled off The Simpsons) and the Miller quote're the only way i'll even touch on this... this thing, this, uh... this Event that went down the other night but suffice it to say, when my memory's long gone, the title and quote, along with the date, will serve to remind me of what i'm being all hinty on now. believe me, even total senility couldn't wipe the traces of the Event from my head (and that pleases me muchly). :-)

moving right along, these are my fave mails this week, both from the same Friend With Penis Who Knows Stuff About Me, he who finally admitted he contacted the special effects firm who did the dominoes scene in V for Vendetta, in order to ask them for one o' those as a gift for me. *preening my ass off w/o due cause*

they refused him but i'm still like thrilled to death that this dude actually thinks of these wild gifts when he thinks of me. naturally, i'd love to ID him but then he'd be in a shitload of trouble, so i'll only mumble something like 'dear lord, why am i like old enough to be his mom, again?'

*snigger* anyway, the first mail came in response to some throwaway comment i made about my unemployability, then idiotically – as always – went on.

me: 'i should really move to Denmark (i think it was; Chris would know, he's the one who sent me the article)... anyway, there's a huge thing going on in the world of legal prostitution, that older women in
their 60s are very much in demand, LOL'.

him: 'HAHA, yes move to Denmark, I'll make your web site pimping you out! LOL, Chris can do the back end, LMAO...'

don'tcha just love that surprise mark? especially when used as he did above, it can't help but make me think he's a dummy (which he's not, actually). very funny, dude... NOT. *snigger*

about him? i've already said he's 'handsome, sexy, intelligent and talented (if you're into that sorta thing, which i'm not)' but i totally lied. moving very swiftly along, a few years ago, he asked me something like 'how did you ever get to be this old?' but it was like wistful almost. at least that's what i wanted to see (LOL, and saw). further conversation proved that 'wistful' shit true. and all i can say to that is:

hmmm... i should really ask him to take over here since he's been responsible for so much of the content lately. *cough* next up's from the same dude, mail that made me so happy cause i love turning people on to the stuff i dig and having them report back to me, justifying everything, so take it away, anonymous penis owner:

'I finally bought "Fear and Loathing" after reading your "
the Doctor is out, 3 years on" post the other day. Really enjoying it so far, it's very funny, didn't think it would be so funny...'

he's already asked me about doing ether (twice, even, and how Hunter describes it is just about the way you get – completely fucked up and physically helpless but mentally alert, LOL) and The Gap and it totally reminded me that Brits don't have The Gap here – and praise Jebus for that. fun fact: just like i pride myself on never having gone into a Starbuck's, Chris prides himself on never stepping foot into a Gap. if you're not American, you'll have no idea why this is such a major achievement and if you are, poor you. but day-amn... *admiring*

back to Fear and Loathing, please note he 'didn't think it would be so funny'. yup, he admitted he didn't think... *wack* and this is the same guy who had the nerve to confess he was uptight before watching 'V for Vendetta' cause he really wanted to dig it, after he read me raving on and on about it on my real site, and was afraid he wouldn't, LOL, amazing. *wack*

BTW, tomorrow's exactly six months my real site's been down. oh, boo-fuckin' ho0 (really!). i used to say 'all i have are Hunter, my friends and my site' and i guess, at this point in time, two outta three's not bad, especially since i'll spare y'all my rimoaning which is now performed, i mean, now done in private. *clears throat* okay, Alle zusammen, 1... 2... 3! 'poor Chris!'). hee? :-)

back to 'didn't think', that shit really hurts cause if he truly didn't think (as a rule), we'd never have become so close, and anyway, nothing i could say further will ease the pain of that transgression, EVar. but i totally love it; the fact that i turned on these dudes (and two of them are British!) to Hunter S Thompson and each of them was moved to laughing their asses off. result? totally achieved. *happy grrl dancing*

movin' raght alownnng, this was me the other day: 'i still miss Hunter, we Americans so need him now. and i'll NEVER forgive bu$hCo for making me patriotic, NEVER. cause in all troof, i'm not at all, i couldn't give a damn, as you know... but i do when things like civil rights and black v. white become issues again, thanks to them...'

am i filled with fear and loathing? betcha ass i am, so the other night, i thought i'd go back to my roots and right now i'm in the midst of a booze and reefer Binge, for a change (yup, that's Binge with a capital B). *proud*

they do? well they'll just have to wait till i'm ready. what? oh. that. just... just don't look over there. the um, pulverisation was like, threatening to become more alluring (it can do that, y'know), but i put an end to that rumor, right quick. hang on... *hic!* *thwoop!* *sno-* oh, yeah right... riiight. sorry, forgot. *snigger*

anyway, since i'm about to take off for yet another funfilled weekend in London, best wishes and love to Boudicca who finally got back to me today... get well real soon; i miss you and wanna see you. plus best wishes, love and luck (though they won't need it) to Dave and Electric Landlady – they know why. and big thanks to the dude who's unwittingly helping me write the last few posts, LOL. cause a few months back, i set myself a goal *gasp* of writing like 1,000 words a night (whether in meatspace notebooks or here) and i'm way past 1,500 now. to everyone else? KTHXBAI. :-)

Monday, 25 February 2008

teh condition my condition's in *wack*

i totally ID with this LOL Kitteh to the point at which i wanna meet the dude or grrl who made him, just to compare notes, like. this is mostly cause even before Nursery School and up to this day, i continue to make bad life choices for myself (and myself only). *snigger*
'I could tell you stories...' but nope — at this late date i still haven't learnt my lesson and in all seriousity, never will learn until i either a) undergo a massive attitude adjustment, b) lower my standards, or c) die, whichever comes first and for once, i'm not picky. ;-)

the thing of it is (and i'm not proud of this), i do it all knowingly, always aware of what i should be doing but electing to do whatever the hell else, cause whatever it is i shouldn't be doing is always more fun than the alternative.

i mean, most times, i'll draw the line at heavy-duty risk-taking or anything that mixes the incredibly stoopit with danger (e.g., the judicial system of whatever country i'm in) but checking Teh SG Lexikon, i'm certain that my definition of 'danger' is wildly off from most others'. but there's a point over which i won't push whatever and in all troof, i don't look too hot in orange. on the other hand, if wi-fi were included in the deal, that just might be impetus to get me to go that extra mile; it all depends.

Dr Freud would've said it's due to my tremendous Id but i knew that already, since way back when. add that to the incredibly LSE which balances out the huge Ego (to a degree) plus my iteration of short man's disease, sprinkled liberally with the ADD, Asperger's, as well as the Tourette's and AFAIC, it makes it all worse: that i'm totally aware and enter whatever situation with eyes wide open and hope for the best. this next is pretty much dumbed-down, but:

'The ID ("It"): functions in the irrational and emotional part of the mind. At birth a baby’s mind is all Id — want want want. The Id is the primitive mind. It contains all the basic needs and feelings. It is the source for libido (psychic energy). And it has only one rule —> the “pleasure principle”: “I want it and I want it all now”. In transactional analysis, Id equates to "Child"...'

just about all my huge mischoices have had to do with sex, drugs and/or rock and roll and if i really lucked out, i'd hit the trifecta and have all three at once: LOL, SPOING! ('You ain't never comin' home!') but outta all these moronacies, the worst have been the self-destructive options and the best of the worst are the ones that lead to self-sabotage.

i mean, ask anyone who knows me and rest assured, you'll hear a story or three about how i fucked myself in the ass. well, not literally of course. wait... *to self* don't get a picture, don't get a picture, don't get a picture... shit! too late. but think about it... *cough* sorry, i mean, if i could actually do that i'd have a talent for which people'd pay good money to watch and make vids so at the very least, it'd be something like 'Ageing Punk Grrl Shows How It's Done' and maybe i'd be You Tube of the Week. i mean, hey, y'never know. :-)

OK, lemme rewind: under 'self-sabotage', i did a few thousand dumbass things over the last year but apart from truth-telling to those who didn't wanna hear it, the most recent, biggest thing i elected to do — soz, in this case, 'elected not to do' happened right before Christmas but at least i didn't end up shooting myself in the foot, so to speak.

i did later (but made it all better) and everything's cool cause i've been purposely leaving out the very best part — how it all seems to come together despite my best efforts to bring myself down. i mean, c'mon; there's stoopit and teh stupid and no damn way i'd have continued on the road i'm on — oh, wow. wait. *singing* (the La Peste Demos version, not the one everybody digs): 'it might be rough and rocky... but i don't really care...'

*snigger* now. where was i? right, i'm just gonna leave prior 'graph as is, totally without closure cause it's getting late (23,36 despite what the timestamp might say below). and anyway, i only tell pieces of whatever story, making sure to leave out the best or the worst. anyway, back to teh kitteh, there's always a good reason when i post one and it's always the same: cause it's totally me (needless to say, i didn't make any of these). like here's me every damn morning (the fact i live with Hunter who has paws instead of opposable thumbs shouldn't matter, mostly cause it doesn't to me).

and lots of times, it's stuff i'm too chickenshit to be literal about; well not really frightened per se, just mindful of not bumming people out (more). it's that old 'i feel i have a moral obligation not to tell you just how depressed i really am...' thing. but since i've been in an unnaturally good mood for just about a week now (surprisingly or not, since the day i met Suzanne) i feel i can share these, cause they're totally me in more normal times.

moving very swiftly the hell outta there, as any Lebowski freak'll tell you, my post title was chosen from a bit of the tune written 'as a warning against the danger of using LSD...'

yup, i've been there with the furniture phasing or melting into the walls and floors and stuff. '...First recorded in 1967 by Jerry Lee Lewis, who rejected it, it was a hit for The First Edition...' which is where Lebowski comes in. and since i never pass up any chance to dis the Eagles (lately cause Larry honestly digs them), i hadda make this.

i never dug the tune at all but my title's totally appropos cause... ummm. well, it is (she said, in a feeble effort to misdi- sorry, rather, in a feeble effort to deflect from the possibly critical nature of this latest medical bullshit). they actually booked me for two appointments' time span tomorrow, i think cause they're all embarrassed about what didn't happen last year (over which i contemplated suing, actually) and this time, they wanna muddle on through in an extra careful manner.

and yes, dammit, i'm being all hinty about my condition (*snarl* that's if i have one *remembering a year ago*), something about which i'll find out more at 15,00 tomorrow afternoon so i'll just keep wittering away here, trying not to think on it (but i'm doing a really bad job of that). hey, waitaminnit — Denial! where the hell are you, anyway? then again, i bullshit a lot and sometimes i forget to whom i've told what and the worst thing is when i lie to — oooops, i mean, lie about people here. *sniggering @self* i mean, my memory's so fucked, i have to take notes in my Palm to keep everyone's stories straight. *tee-hee* yup, 'It's funny 'cause it's true'. *in a Homer voice*

what that has to do with anything is beyond me but Chris and i watched the most excellent Christopher Nolan's The Prestige again last night and certain elements of stage magic, things that've always been natural born tendencies, well... OK, i'll put it this way: my Alabama 3 Tourette's is like dying to emerge but it's stuck — i'm thinking of D Wayne's comment about 'misdirection and sleight of hand', (Padua? Dublin? Glastonbury?) but it's been an age since i last heard it, so it might well've been tossed down the ol' Memory Hole.

point being? um... i think something to do with misdirection which, as one who enjoys, rather, suffers my ADD, Tourette's and Asperger's (another trifecta!), i think i do quite nicely, especially when i drop a hint about my deep, dark, very criminal past or anyone in the band or whatever, stuff like that. ooh! look over there! it's this morning again — and a magnificent morning it was. :-)

nicest mail i got all week from Yet Another Close Male Friend Who Knows Stuff About Me Thanks To My Big Mouth. i was coming back from the kitchen and about to smoke a little bit more of the black i'd picked up last time in London but i glanced over here and saw new mail from YACMF. that'll prolly be my downfall, actually, but that's another story for another time (i worked it all out months ago).

YACMF: 'WOOHOO, V for Vendetta is on!!! :-)'

me: 'silly boy... i can watch it whenever, and i'm STILL not tired of it...'

YACMF: 'So can I, I have it on DVD too, *****...'

(editor's note: the asterisks are in place of one of the things he calls me; he's used the one above in public both in meatspace and on FreeA3. needless to say, if i spelt it out, he wouldn't be anonymous anymore and anyway, his GF totally reads me and she'd fuckin' freak and we wouldn't wanna have that, especially after he sent me this:)

'I wasn't gonna tell you this but I wrote to the company that did the domino bit to see if they would send me one of the dominoes for you as a gift but they wouldn't give me one...'

i'm a real sucker and flattery always works and he knows it (and so does everyone else) so i'm waiting to see how quickly he'll ask me for the favor that's undoubtedly coming soon.

weekend status @13,19 saturday: The Person Formally Known As Pet Man planned to arrive at noon in order to, not only visit me and Hunter, indulge in some long-awaited research. the ingredients have been virtually jumping out of the box in which they're stashed and it's gotten to the point at which i've forced myself to ignore them and hence forget them in an 'outta sight is outta mind' kinda way.

anyway, when he first told me what time he'd arrive, i didn't mean to but ended up insulting him and i didn't even say a word. wait — i can hear Hunter S Thompson going 'But we didnt DO anything yet!' after i quit LMAO when he said he'd appear here like at noon (laughing cause i knew it'd never happen) i had to apologise for insulting him, knowing full well there was no fuckin' way he was gonna get his ass over here that early on a saturday.

so once again, 'i torry, Babe; it'll never happen again'. *whispers* that is, until the next time, as you so very unfortunately know, and i'm so fucking sorry that i'm just about always right about these things. i mean, c'mon — you should know that already!

'...Yeah, I'm sorry, you're sorry, everybody's sorry'. shit, Babe, soz for that. *snort* nah, not really. all hail Marla Singer! right, just remembered; as far as Fight Club goes, this mini-synchronicity happened the other night: i'm listening to Boom and just as Chris bopped through the door, i'm hearing: '...This is your life, it doesn't get any better than this...'

now, if they'd only quit there, whilst i was ahead, it would be totally true, but no.... *sniggering away like a naughty little boy who's just rung the doorbell of the house outside of which he's left a flaming bag of doggy-doo* :-)

lastly but not leastly, a note to Black Maria: this is what i was tawkin' about — FFS, grrl, can y'all see it now? (it's over on the right.)

wait, i lied (and i'm so ashamed but that's me all over) cause this is the last but not leastly stuff, coming straight from the Department of Adorability and its totally fabaroo news: please allow me to introduce the achingly huggable Spooks, the newest member of Pam in Brixton's family. just look at the expression on his little face and i dare y'all not to go 'awwwwww'. :-)

what's blasting: BOOM! — this remix containing The Narrator's complete Fight Club monologue, so enjoy. :-)

Wednesday, 20 February 2008

the Doctor is out, 3 years on

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive"… And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?”...'

that's the now-infamous beginning of Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas, a book that changed my life for the better and whose author became my living hero, someone in whom to believe and admire. best of all, his tools were words, humor and a contempt for any abuse of power and authority, especially when the bearer of same so effortlessly inherits it. ever since 2000, i've seen Hunter as overgrown fratboy preznit george ('puke') bush's natural born nemesis. this is Hunter in 1971, just about when Rolling Stone serialised what later became his breakthrough book and made him a household name.

i was steeped in politics three years back and that cloudy sunday started like any other until i read the news today, oh boy... this is what hipped me on a site full of pols: ‘Well, I just found out minutes ago that Hunter S Thompson is dead. This is terrible news because he was a god to me…’

WTF? i thought it some wack kinda goof; some moron trying to make a halfass point in a forced political analogy of some sort. but i flew over to Google News anyway and sure enough, it was true. when Chris came out for breakfast, he found me weeping at my desk. the moment i saw him, the heavy uncontrollable sobbing began.

little did i know that was only the beginning of my own personal downward spiral cause Peter, my rescue kitty who flew the Atlantic at age 11 and then, the English Channel at age 14, left this earthly plane just a few weeks after the good Doctor did. soon after that, Hunter kitty, my furry purry boy, moved in with us here, but he's not the Hunter i'm thinking on today.

Hunter Stockton Thompson (July 18, 1937 – February 20, 2005) was an American journalist and author ... He is credited as the creator of Gonzo journalism, a style of reporting where reporters involve themselves in the action to such a degree that they become the central figures of their stories'.

yup, it never really gets weird enough for me either. BTW, if y'all look upwards, one of my all-time fave Hunter quotes has graced the masthead of this here site, almost from the beginning. :-)

'He is also known for his promotion and use of psychedelics and other mind altering substances (and to a lesser extent, alcohol and firearms), his libertarian views, and his iconoclastic contempt for authoritarianism...'

moving right along, we'll get back to Dr Thompson in a bit but thanks to the Internet Archive i'm actually looking at my site for the first time since it got hacked last Summer. please notice the synchronous nature of my long lost random quote generator which saw fit to serve up yet another lovely Hunter quote that always resonates muchly within.

that top post was written during the weirdest week of my life every year for the past eleven years, the seven days between Daddy's Death Day and my birthday. amongst other things, i talked about Black Maria, my only GF in NYC for almost twenty years, telling our classic, hilarious story.

unfortunately, as these things go, Black Maria's beautiful goodness is balanced out by mention of the person now known as The Indiana Ingrate, but that's enough about her for now. in all actuallity, i'd love to delete all mention of her but being a stickler for truth and honesty, even if i could, i totally wouldn't.

OK, back to 3 years without Hunter S Thompson, what can i say that i haven't already expressed everytime his name comes up? yes, i still miss him and very much so, especially cause he was unafraid to speak his mind against bu$hCo and boy, do we need him, now more than ever. anyway, these next are bits from the post i threw together (and y'all get to see my site; what a nice surprise early this morning when i actually found my real home again. :-)

i wrote that post as i sat here on the day he took his own life, stunned to the point at which i really couldn't eulogise and only produced a mundane roundup of Hunter's opinions of amerikan politics mostly lifted from The Guardian's review of Kingdom of Fear, his last book, written two years prior to his death. the review's called 'The Honest Outlaw' which always reminds me of that terrifically thought provoking Dylan line from way back when: 'To live outside the law you must be honest'.

We have become a Nazi monster in the eyes of the whole world, a nation of bullies and bastards who would rather kill than live peacefully. We are not just whores for power and oil, but killer whores with hate and fear in our hearts. We are human scum, and that is how history will judge us. No redeeming social value. Just whores. Get out of our way, or we’ll kill you.

‘Who does vote for these dishonest shitheads? Who among us can be happy and proud of having all this innocent blood on our hands? Who are these swine? These flag-sucking half-wits who get fleeced and fooled by stupid little rich kids like George Bush?

'They are the same ones who wanted to have Muhammad Ali locked up for refusing to kill gooks. They speak for all that is cruel and stupid and vicious in the American character. They are the racists and hate mongers among us; they are the Ku Klux Klan. I piss down the throats of these Nazis.

And I am too old to worry about whether they like it or not. Fuck them.’ --- 'Kingdom of Fear: Loathsome Secrets of a Star-crossed Child in the Final Days of the American Century'.

a few weeks back, after noticing someone made another Hunter Thompson LOL Kitteh, i looked in my Palm and saw his Death Day was coming up. so i titled my post LOOK WHAT GOD MADE ME DO! cause that line always cracked me up. here it is again and though the quote's mangled, i think the good Doctor would've loved it.

*sigh* it still wasn't enough so i moved my hardbacked copy of Kingdom of Fear to the top of the stack of books on my desk. anally speaking, it doesn't belong since the rest are all geek books but for now, it's gonna stay there. from Kingdom Of Fear written on 12. september 2001:

“The Towers are gone now, reduced to bloody rubble, along with all hopes for Peace in Our Times, in the United States or any other country. Make no mistake about it: We are At War with that mysterious Enemy for the rest of our lives.

“It will be a Religious War, a sort of Christian Jihad, fueled by religious hatred and led by merciless fanatics on both sides. It will be guerilla warfare on a global scale, with no front lines and no identifiable enemy.”

'Uncle Duke has left the building ... he's checked out. Hunter S Thompson, outlaw of American journalism, is dead.

'i am so fucking empty right now. i’d like to smoke a bowl and write on what his work has meant to me, the hope it gave me and mine starting way back when. maybe later, dunno'. (editor's note: i never did, was too damned gutted to even try.)

but Chuck Lawson did it for me; he's the person who provides us Alabama 3 fans with FreeA3, the unofficial alternative to the band's official site, so take it away, Chuck:

'…Thompson was the true master of subjective journalism, and in his subjectivity often found truths that many were afraid to see, and even more were afraid to voice. Although he hid it well with brilliant satire and brash arrogance, at the core of much of Thompson’s writing was a deep and abiding concern for America, and for the truth, and he defended both with a dogged persistence, particularly from those who cynically pretended to stand for those very values.

Hunter was an American Hero in the truest sense of the word, one of the finest and most important writers of the 20th century, and beneath the rhetoric, an often brilliant observer of both domestic politics and world affairs.

‘Dr. Thompson is gone now, and I am poorer for it…'

three years back then, all i could manage to squeak out was 'and that about sums it up for me'. i won't even attempt to top Chuck's prose, so thank you dude, for so eloquently expressing how i so sadly feel inside. this is my all-time fave photo of Hunter.

and one of my fave quotes from Kingdom of Fear:

'Sane is a dangerous word. It implies a clear distinction, a sharp line between the Sane and the Insane that we all see clearly and accept as a truth of nature.

'But it is not. No. The only real difference between the Sane and the Insane, in this world, is the Sane have the power to have the Insane locked up. That is the bottom line. CLANG! Go immediately to prison. You crazy bastard, you should have been locked up a long time ago. You are a dangerous freak --- I am rich and I want you castrated...'

as well as my former sig on forums hither and thither all over the Internetz: 'Drugs usually enhance and strengthen my perceptions and reactions, for good or ill. They've given me the resilience to withstand repeated shocks to my innocence gland. The brutal reality of politics alone would probably be intolerable without drugs ...

'...Besides, I enjoy drugs. The only trouble they've given me is the people who try to keep me from using them'.

TESTIFY, DOCTOR! which all brings to mind my internal voice whispering its truth straight from the heart: 'i'd give up dope but i'm no quitter'. i still feel bad... still gutted. i wonder if i could sneak into Bristol Royal Infirmary and like, steal some ether to inhale, just for the occasion.

but nah, being totally lazy, i'll just stick to what's already here, which in all truth is a pretty decent variety, considering who i am. wait... that reminds me of yet another fave Hunter quote:

'Once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendencey is to push it as far as you can'.

RIP Hunter S Thompson (18. july 1937 – 20. february 2005). sadly missed and never forgotten. :-(

Tuesday, 19 February 2008

talk to me or i will kill teh kitteh!

latest mail exchange with a formerly very close friend who shall remain nameless to preserve what little is left of his rep. and it hurts my ego but only a teeny bit cause he's handsome, sexy, intelligent and talented (if you're into that sorta thing, which i'm not). don't forget to notice the displays of affection, respect and terms of endearment, especially in his tone. and this is one of my closest friends! well, 'was' one of my closest friends. |-(

him: 'Talk to me, idiot. How are you? I know I was mad last weekend, just thought it was a shame. Talk to me or I will kill teh kitteh!'

me: 'you were mad last weekend? i didn't notice. but mad as in angry or mad as in like, the way some of you Brits use the word here --- like my hairdresser goes "Oh, so you want it quite mad, actually?" and she's meaning more punk'd out, like.

'so which is it, dude? and then i can answer you properly, or i'll lie like i always do. wait, did i say that shit out loud? whoa, if i did, i was totally bullshitting. maybe, actually, i forget at the moment. um, what are we tawkin' about again? right, the definition of "mad".

'fun fact: i tell current hairdresser same exact thing i told the one who did my hair, lo these many years ago, way before you were b---WAIT. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?

Q: 'what happened to me?'
A: 'You grew up. but only on the outside'.

'OMFG! kill me now cause i'm fucking old and i totally hate old people. plus, they scare the shit outta me. *runs off weeping*

(editor's note: i tell my hairdresser the same as i told the one in NYC like a million years ago: 'make me look like i take drugs'. anyway, continuing the email lovefest with one of my best, rather, one of my formerly best friends:)

me: 'feel free to gloat, to dis me, to mock me and/or whatever the fuck you wanna say, as long as it makes me smile cuz i'm totally outta ideas. please help me write this post, goddammit! please, please do it, do it for me? for us? PLEASE! *sniffle* and i thought we had something special. :-(

'HELP ME, [name of former friend and confidant]! the godless goddess commands it of you. i mean i can remember a time when i had a txt on my phone which i must've read a thousand times that said 'Am in pub. I await your commands, my Goddess'. anyway, "pretty please with sugar on top? CLEAN THE FUCKING CAR!"

this is what i got in return from ex-bestest friend. well, one of the rapidly dwindling crew i used to cry to and consider mah brothers. thanks to the below, this particular person shall forevermore be known to me as Non-Sequitur Boy. his lameass excuse had something to do with dabbling in automatic writing (i'm telling!):

'In the history of America, there once was born a child with no code. This didn't affect his early years but had a great impact on his ability to buy bread in later life. On a day in mid December he suffered a fall which prevented him from using his right hand after 9pm.

'Since the accident, yellow became his favourite colour and also the colour he chose to wear. Many great things happened to him over the course of the next three months, none worth witting here...'

witting? could he have meant 'writing'? the mind reels. anyway, he closed with:

'His name was Frammer'.

and so endeth a beautiful friendship. thanks a lot, you snotty prick. *sob* i, for one, shall never forget this humiliating slight. (editor's note: in all actuallity, he'll always be my friend --- he knows too much about me. but don't remind him, please.) KTHXBAI!

Thursday, 14 February 2008


ahhhh, Sweet Joy and great news to all those lucky Americans who've been waiting what seems like eons for the band to return to the States. we were lucky enough to catch them in 2000 (no thanks to bastard Sony but to our daily Googling) but since then? nada --- 9 bandmembers, tonnes of equipment, a technical crew, road and tour managers and other assorted PsTB do not a cheap gig make.

so here's the moment we've been waiting for (well, 'we' as in the Royal or American 'we', cause i'm already here in England). 'This is a security announcement': hide yer eyes, you prudes, you easily offended, you strait-laced and narrow minded and especially the bores and boors amongst you, pronto! *cough* rather:

'Oh frabjous day, Callooh, Callay!'
Alabama 3's confirmed for at least two gigs in the States and it's about damn time. it ain't the outer rings of Saturn, but hey, it's a start. so get hip y'all --- enjoy the glory of a truly unique group of musical outlaws. seamless genre bending? sui generis? you tell me and while you're at it, remember that you're never too old to rock and roll.

personal note 1: despite what The Person Formally Known As Pet Man might say, apart from wanting to move to Europe with him, this band's the reason i left the States, in order to be physically closer to the dudes, whose music and lifestyles totally changed my outlook and future expectations. one might ask how so? in a word, they gave me HOPE. (see my typically meandering reminiscence: Alabama 3: bastards of teh unfinished revolution).

copied in toto from the Official Site (with a bit of addenda from yours truly):

'The long wait is finally over! American fans of Alabama 3 will soon have the chance to see the band play live, after waiting patiently for a long time'.

OMFG --- it's been over SEVEN longass years since we first saw them and it's totally enough to make me wanna go back to visit the Arse and Sphincter of Amerika again (with apologies to the writers of V for Vendetta and i don't mean its creator, Alan Moore, who removed his name from the film's credits on principle but that's a whole 'nother story).

'We are delighted to be able to announce two performances scheduled so far for this year'.

please note 'so far'. *suppressed screaming my head off with self-satisfaction and a smidgen of Sweet Joy*

'On Wednesday March 11th Alabama 3 Acoustic and Unplugged (featuring Larry Love, Rock Freebase, Devlin Love and Harpo Strangelove) will be playing at the SxSW music festival in Austin Texas. SxSW is "one of the largest, most influential, and most anticipated music events of the year." Details can be found on their website here' (alphabetical listings here; photo below of the Acoustics taken on tour in Australia this past november; from L to R: Rock, Devlin, Harpo and Larry).

'Then on the weekend of the 3rd to the 6th of July the full band will be performing at the Rothbury Festival in Michigan. Described as a new, environmentally conscious music festival organisers say the festival’s goal is to draw attention to climate change and clean energy alternatives. Details can be found on their website here'.

i don't see them listed but at bottom it states 'and more to be announced'. let us join hands and pray for the PTB hip enough to get it, to totally add to the American contingent of the ever-growing Congregation.

to y'all sadly unaware up to now, those whom Alabama 3 had flown underneath their musical radar, apart from doing Woke Up This Morning, the themesong of The Sopranos, here's the lowdown from the Official Site:

'We're the Alabama 3. We make Sweet Pretty Muthafuckin' Country Acid House Music all night long. We're not from Alabama, and there's not three of us. We're from Brixton, London. We're the fellas that did that Sopranos' theme tune. That tune bought someone a swimming pool, but it sure wasn't any of us.

'Alabama 3 is a pop band, a punk rock, blues and country techno situationist crypto-Marxist-Leninist electro band. We never went on X Factor or Pop Idol or Stooge Quest. We did it the old fashioned way; Back in 1996, we threw a big old party, invited all our friends. We took a fistfull of blotters and half a dozen disco biscuits and then made it up as we went along. Geffen records bought it..! for a million dollars! We never needed a self-appointed quango of jaded vampires to tell us how to sing the blues ... we got Mojo*. We have the power to raise the dead.

'We spent half of our advance from Geffen on various contraband items and with the rest we made an over-produced, brilliant situationist masterpiece called 'Exile on Coldharbour Lane'.

personal note 2: along with all the officially released albums, they've got the most extravagant bounteous back catalogue of unofficially released remixes and bootlegs, which all makes it totally lucky for us. way back when, Segs told us the reason for this is cause 'Larry's never satisfied' and praise Jebus for that.

moving right along, 'Exile' was my ultimate fave from august 2000 till about Fall '06 and and it's still on heavy rotation. but back last year, 'Exile' was usurped by their second magnum opus, La Peste, a brilliant and elegant collection that should put 'paid' to talk of the band being dismissed as a novelty act by uninspired journos.

i dare you, no i double dare youse to listen to La Peste and not want M.O.R, errr, more. here's a little taste: it's Wade Into The Water featuring the very lovely (American) Eileen Rose.

back to the band's statement: 'Ever since then we've been preaching our Gospel all over the world. We've got into a whole bunch of trouble and met a whole bunch of nice people. We make friends where ever we go.

'They've tried to stop us. Many, many times. They say we were degenerates, corrupters of morals, they say we we were too political, too contrived, too ugly. We've been in and we've been out. In and out of the charts, in and out of fashion, in and out of rehab. We've been skint and we've been minted ... and you know what? It makes no difference to us. Because we're never gonna stop.

'We're gonna just keep on putting out records and putting on shows. As ministers in the First Presleyterian Church of Elvis the Divine, we know the party ain't never over. Not till you're sitting on the toilet in a big nappy with a rancid quarter pounder in your fat, cold, dead, dead, emerald-encrusted hand.

'And so, we are proud to soon give to you, our blessed congregation, on the 3rd of September this year (2007), our brand new album: It's our tribute to the glorious tradition of bloated, paranoid and beautifully deluded over - indulgence in music. We think it's our most moving and absurd, exciting and tear - jerking yet. You will too'.

personal note 3: they're tawkin' about M.O.R, on which i guest star in a liddy-biddy bit on 'Klan'. plus, Mr Larry Love (bless his loveable medicated heart, his beautiful wife Samantha and their lovely liddle daughter) saw fit to add my little grrl's voice as well as my husky voice at the end of the tune, both off-key, of course. *preening my damn fat ass off* and rightfully so -- 'tis every fan's dream come true and somehow, i dun diddit. :-)

'We want to make you feel good. We know you've had trouble in your life, real bad trouble. We know you've got debts. We know you've had your heart broken so many times you're still finding pieces of it in your pillow. Maybe you've done some good things in your life, maybe you've done some bad things. We forgive you. Forgive yourself. Then dress up real sexy and come and party with us sometime. We'll look after you.

'That's a promise. x'

a few months back, i quoted from Orlando's column The Spirit Speaks (again stoled off the Official Site). at various times whilst reading him, i've often mused he could very well be the British equivalent of the next Hunter S Thompson. cause just like Hunter, what he writes resonates muchly within, going straight to the heart, like here:

'With Alabama 3, I'd say the way it works is that it's about the way you get through the darkness to the light, so you get to see the light while you're still in the darkness. It's about refusing not to have a good time, even if your life's completely fucking shit...

'...The pleasures of someone whose life is a wreck, kind of have a fierceness to them. It's a real victory. It's not like the "idle pleasures of the bourgeois", so casually experienced. The joy of someone whose life is a mess is a fierce joy and it's hard won...'

whoa, don't i know it. and think on that, y'all. as i said back then, he sounds like he knows me very, very well, even though he doesn't really. y'all should see him onstage on keyboards whilst doing his (almost impossible to me) cigarette flip, and he catches it and manages to totally stay cool every damn time --- very impressive, to say the very least). at last august's Rhythm Festival i enticed him to pose for me; as i explained, i needed him to add to my (almost complete) collection of Alabama 3 dudes giving me the finger. *wack but so what?*

so here's the multi-talented Orlando (The Spirit), giving me the finger at my request. twice even, the obliging handsome boy. *preening even more*

BTW, for those confused by the Alabama 3's Deep South preacher / pimp personae, or unlucky enough to have never been initiated to their totally fabaroo music; here's the full line-up (real names in parens).

from L to R: Larry Love (Rob Spragg, gravelly voiced singer par excellence); The Spirit (Orlando Harrison, king of the keyboards); Sir Eddie Real --- 'knighted by the Queen of England' (Simon Edwards, chieftain of the congas), the Mountain of Love (Piers Marsh, master of electronics and synth programmer), LB Dope (Jonny Delafons, drummer doyen), Devlin Love (Zoe Reynolds, married to Nick --- Harpo Strangelove of Alabama 3 Acoustic; he who plays the meanest yet sweetest array of harmonicas i've ever heard.

as well, Zoe's been blessed with the voice to end all voices. as an aside, i must add: once you hear her, you'll totally dig what i'm on about); Stevie Nicked (Steve Finnerty; additional guitars); the Very Reverend D Wayne Love (Jake Black, Master of Ceremonies, Ad-lib Adept and Captain of White Powder Airlines). last but certainly far from least, front and off-centre, the one and only Mr Rock Freebase (Mark Sams, Delta Slide Dude and all other things guitarishly genius. and when he's playing with the Acoustic flavor of the band, i think of him as the engine that drives the entire machine). :-)

here they are at the Astoria in London, back in october, the penultimate gig of MOR Tour I. my write-up is here (photo by setmajer --- click to engorge) and keep in mind that MOR Tour II begins in april. be still my beating heart... shit. said the quiet bit out loud again. i blame it on the spoing actually which's building already since they announced cause april's like only a coupla months away.

fun factoid: before i got friendly with my two fave band dudes, someone else told me my intensity and fervor were quite similar to that of a demented type stalker. oh, how i laughed, thinking it a goof. but no...this band attracts all walks of life and all types, which's part of their charm AFAIC. but prior experience over the years had caused a bit of wary and rightfully so. 'a word to the wise grrl' as i would say if i were William S Burroughs, and sometimes i actually dig pretending i am. :-)

fun factoid 2: apart from the music, what first attracted Chris and me was the band's accessibility to their fans. imagine our surprise when first seeing them at NYC's Bowery Ballroom (november 2K), when pre-gig, Jake and Rob seated themselves next to us at the then-nearly empty bar. so of course, i hadda say something. unfortunately for me and them, i haven't STFU since. *wack* ;-)

fun factoid 3: years later in Manchester april '03, we were first meeting the old Free crew and hanging in the pub next to the venue for United Against Racism which they were headlining. Chris and i were chatting to Alma and Nomad, as if we knew them all our lives when suddenly we heard 'I remember you...' we looked up to see who was speaking and it was Mark, i mean, Rock Freebase. what a memory!

i began preening but just about then, Segs pulled me outta the pub to show me this gorgeous rainbow spreading across the Manc skies and told me he too remembered us from the States and the rainbow was a good omen. good times, good times. now. where was i?

right, over the years, i was told i was checked out to see if i were for real, a stalker, demented groupie or whatever by some but i always laughed it off. later on that year, Chris and i spent a delightful Summer afternoon a few months after Manc in the garden of the 'effortlessly hip' Prince Albert on Coldharbour Lane in Brixton after flying in from Bonn for the occasion and meeting up with Segs again. i imagine he OK'd me cause it's been smooth sailing since. well, not 'smooth sailing' per se, but y'all know what i mean. well, at least, nobody runs and hides (not that i know of) when they see me coming, so AFAIC, it's all good in the 'hood. :-)

on my real site i called them 'the best band you've never heard' and there's really no reason for y'all to believe me but do yerselves a musical favor and listen to any of their tunes. i guarantee you'll be hooked. and i mean that in the bestest way. :-)

Wednesday, 13 February 2008

the meek ain't gonna inherit shit

what's blasting: Mansion on the Hill (Hit the Dancefloor mix).