lobot

greetings

and so it is, once more (as happens every year, look you see) Star Wars day. this of course stems from the rather peculiar way in which Americans state the date, meaning "May 4th" gets spoken as "may the fourth be with you", which  sounds a bit like a phrase popular in the Darth Vader film series. so far as i am aware that line is uttered at least once in each of the good Star Wars films and in Last Jedi too. probably not, now i think, Solo, as that was predominantly jedi and space religion free. also wasn't much good. 

well, with it being what it is (the day) i figured, mostly with nothing else particularly better to write of right now, i might as well pay homage to the best, greatest and most important character in all of the films and what have you of Star Wars. and that, of course, is Lobot. 

granted, no, Lobot is not the first name what would come to mind if someone asked you to name a character from Star Wars. unless it was someone asking me, and i would probably say him. it is not all that often people engage in conversation with me, though, and when they do it's normally considerably less ("fewer") things like "who was in Star Wars", more "why are you still here". but still, he is the best, greatest and most important character in Star Wars, for i read this to be true on the internet, so it must be true. reading it in the previous paragraph here, i feel, counts. 

it is of course very much so that Star Wars has been hugely influential on culture, society and what have you for the last, what 48 years (at time of writing) or so. yes, there are those (called "fanboys") who by certain standards may take it all a little too seriously, but still, overall, how truly amazing that a fairly simple (yet visually dazzling) swashbuckling tale of good vs evil captured the minds of so many. it is at heart brilliant escapism, and little wonder it means so much to so many. the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, some might say. 

exactly how is Lobot the best, greatest and most important character out of Star Wars? well, on a practical level it is so that quite a few of the main characters - the fake orphan, the bin, the gay robot, the entitled adopted princess, the criminal people smuggler and his dog would all be dead if it were not for his intervention. had he not gone done what he gone done (granted, prompted by Lando, but still) then we never would have got the third film with that massive slug and them cute cannibalistic teddy bear sex cases. 

more than this, though, is the influence of Lobot on the "real word". people went to go and see The Empire Strikes Back and people liked what they saw this Lobot dude was doing. it's probably going to far to say that Lobot made the world of business administration sexy, but he certainly made it sexier. 

the image above is probably my all time favourite one off of Star Wars as it has the four best characters out of all of it in it. yes, sure, Lobot is the best, but still, Lando is quite class, as are Vader and Boba. what would have been class is a film (or two) of the four of them, just hanging around discussing the trials and tribulations of administration, as well as the odd bit of choking people to death and blowing stuff up. disintegrations, even. 

how did Lobot make business administration seem quite sexy affect the world? within a year or so of the film Empire Strikes Back getting released applications to study things like an MBA and Public Administration degrees shot up by over one thousand percent, probably. many people were inspired to set up quite class business ventures that they could be administrators of, like how Lobot was the administrator for Cloud City, or Bespin, or whatever it was actually called. with particular emphasis on his really, really smart flared trousers. 

yes, there are some that would suggest Lando is slightly more important, as his decision to all of a sudden not f*** over his friend Han was kind of essential to all them characters surviving. however, he only had the idea not to f*** over the people smuggler. it took Lobot to make sure what got done got undone, which is basically what an administrator is there for. also that headset thing is class. 

hope you are all enjoying whatever it is you do to celebrate Star Wars day, if you do indeed celebrate it. i would expect a lot of it is just saying "may the fourth be with you" to people. maybe even watch a film or two. well, presumably just the one what has Lobot in it. 

live long and prosper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

primal scream

howdy pop pickers

ok, let's start with the "blimey is it May already, where does the time go" comments. no, i am not entirely sure, look you see, if it is that the days, weeks, months, years all drift away so very quickly as you get older, or it just feels so on the basis of what you do with that time. 

but, anyway, Primal Scream. plus support. 

indeed this was the third gig of the year (2025) for me, and to be honest it's set a very high benchmark for being the "best". which is f*****g saying something when one considers, all factors considered, just what an amazing night KillerStar at the 100 Club was. rather than worry too much about what's the best of any particular thing, though, i'd rather be thankful for so many spectacular life incidents. 

this was, perhaps surprisingly, the first time i had got the chance to see the band. not sure why i missed out on them over the years, probably just a timing thing. for anyone of a certain age, as in you were there when "one generation under the same groove" was very much a thing (late 80s to early 90s) it would be so that this band, and the Screamadelica album in particular were likely present in the soundtrack to those far more relaxed days and times. there i go with time again. 

mostly this tour was in support of the recent, if you like "comeback" album off of the band, Come Ahead. i did indeed get it when it came out, especially as it granted me access to "pre sale" tickets for this tour. and, at the time, i was not too keen on what i heard. in (glorious) retrospect i was somewhat unduly harsh on the album, if not plain wrong. having played it a few times in the days leading up to the gig i was surprised to find it a damned lot (more) better than i had taken it as being. maybe i was not in the right state, or frame, of mind for it when it landed. still, being honest, my main hope was that the gig would feature more of their classic tunes, less ("fewer") of things all new. 

usually at gigs these days i don't spend all that much time checking out the support act. an obvious exception would be the last gig i went to, Ocean Colour Scene, when the superb Kula Shaker were on first, delivering a quite brilliant set. i have come to see support act time as being time to wait outside having a cigarette or two (sorry), or maybe do business at the bar. mostly the former, really, since - and this is no bad thing - smoking inside gig venues is now a no-no. 

go on then, i thought (or thought i), let me have a bit of a listen to Dylan John Thomas. he was, after all, off of Bobby Gillespie's home town, so i took it as a given that he had rather been picked by the band to be the support act, rather than the record label / tour booking agents shoving them on, or as is the case with the imminent Oasis thing, the absolute cheapest acts that are vaguely recognisable being picked. 

rather glad i did check him (or them, for it was a band) out. yes, certainly that is a bit of really poor quality video for you, the shoddy nature of it telling you all you need to know how bad this Samsung A14 thing is. i do feel a bit bad not recording any of his own stuff (a rock sound with a distinct influence of reggae / ska, to my ears), but i was so taken by the audacious nature of this cover of Big Love from Fleetwood Mac i elected to try and record some of it. 

were there any hitches or glitches with me and this gig? oh goodness me yes. sadly, too. as would be normal (or the new normal) for me and gigs in Newcastle, my dear friend, the legendary g-man, was to go with me. alas, his employers elected to f*** him right over at the last minute, so verk obligations meant he couldn't get there. a great shame, and yes of course as you do for a mate i have lied a great deal to him, telling him it was sh!t and he was better off missing it. 

by chance, or fate, a good use for his ticket happened. about ten (or so) minutes before Primal Scream were due on stage three lads turned up. of them two had tickets, one claimed to have but their phone had died (again, like many others, i miss the days of having a proper ticket) and the ticket office couldn't do much for him. i immediately offered the extra ticket i (very regrettably) had to them, which they took up. yes, they offered to pay for it, offered drinks, something from the merch (none of the t-shirts are my size, ever) but i declined, saying rather someone have a top night than the ticket go to waste. 

quite a lot of the opening number, which i believe was Don't Fight It, Feel It (when based on some reviews i had expected Ready To Go Home, the finest moment of the new tape), saw me just kind of stood there, staring at the majestic figure of Bobby Gillespie, thinking (and perhaps saying) "f***, that's actual f*****g Bobby Gillespie i am f*****g seeing". even after a couple of pints (perhaps 4 or so but who here is counting) it did take a bit for reality to sink in. 

knowing full well that my phone is utterly useless for video, and truly just wanting to enjoy the gig because who knows when (or if) i will get the chance to see Primal Scream again, no, i did not record all that much. what i did record did (of course) come out quite bad. but for those of you who insist, or for some reason really, really like poor quality video, here's some of Movin On Up for you. 

yeah, just maybe rather pick up a copy of Screamadelica if (for some strange reason) you don't already have it and play it proper. for those of you who have a provenance thing, by the way, this was all at Newcastle City Hall (or O2 academy, i think they refer to it as now) on 19 April (2025). the last show of the tour, no less, and the place is one of the best venues what i have ever been to. 

overall, or on the whole, this was (and my friend g-man, or anyone else that planned to go but did not may well wish to stop reading now) one of the best gigs i have been to. yes, i know in the grand scheme of things i may not have been to all that many (i have good friends, for instance, who have seen the Manics over ten times more than the four times what i gone done), but still. 

here you had (and i believe this is the right term) a perfect storm. there was the band, in particular of course the iconic singer, in absolute bang on form, an audience emotionally invested in the music what they were there for (no "i am here and i only know Wonderwall" types), a brilliant venue (the sound inside is exceptional) and a considered, excellent and if you will "balanced" set. i didn't even notice that i didn't have a cigarette for the two hour duration. 

main highlights? honestly there was no "down" time. as fluent and fluid a set as you could wish for, with the "classics" easily blending in with the new. sure, one or two people elected to head to the bar on hearing a more recent song start, but that sort of thing happens at virtually every gig. flawless, i think, is the best way to describe the songs selected and the running (or batting) order. sure, what's likely my favourite of all time Primal Scream song, Burning Wheel, didn't get played, and no they didn't decided to go and play all 11 (or so minutes) of Trainspotting, but i kind of assumed they would not. 

certainly i read some reviews before going. most were decidedly honest, if in part brutal. there were suggestions of Bobby Gillespie "mumbling rather than singing", and a high level of apathy, if not outright boredom, in the audience with the Come Ahead songs. neither of these things were true of the gig i was at. as point of fact, at the end, random strangers approached me (and several others) expressing what an incredible gig it was. far be it from me to suggest they had taken any sort of self prescribed medication to take themselves back to the early 90s. 

go on then, one more bit if (poor quality) video. here you go with Rocks, which was the final number of a three song encore. at the time the song got a bit slated for being a "Stones rip off", but my how us fans have ignored that and it's well established as a rock classic. you might have thought they would consider opening gigs with this one, but undoubtedly it was determined to do so would be "a bit naff" and far too an obvious thing. careful now, for Bobby unleashes a few swear words. ones that you can make out reasonably clearly even with the limitations of this phone of mine.

easily the biggest surprise of the night for me (since i can write only of my experience) was the crowd reaction to Country Girl. difficult competition and impossible to gauge accurately, but to my eyes and ears it was so this one that really got the crowd all pumped up. pumped up even more than the rest of the set, which (believe me) is saying something. make no mistake, it's a fairly good song, but i always classed it as a sort of whimsical, throwaway thing, likely produced to ensure some radio play and grab attention for the band and album (Riot City Blues) at the time. going purely on the crowd reaction on the night you would believe it to be their best, greatest and most important song, ever. 

perhaps the moment which shall live in my mind the longest was Loaded. i am taking it as something of a given they haven't played it all that often on tour, going on how Bobby Gillespie elected to introduce it with the words "surprise mother f*****s". what followed when the song kicked in was extraordinary. take the idea, if you will, of the end of the (actually not bad) film adaptation of Perfume, where the scentless apprentice (spoiler warning here) wafts his ultimate scent and a massive orgy spontaneously commences. in that moment at the gig when Bobby raised his hand with customary defiance everyone in the gig was immediately transported to a huge warehouse rave, say 91 or 92, absolutely ripped to the t!ts on ecstasy or similar for the next six to ten minutes. weaving such magic is what makes Bobby Gillespie who he is, and blessed be us for being able to experience it. 

let me be fair here - the band, this current incarnation of Primal Scream, are also excellent. they, as we, though surely know that the focus will always be on Bobby. it is true that the musicians flourish and strive on songs like Loaded and of course Come Together, and Movin On Up is constructed on a perfect, frantic gospel fuelled sound, but everyone there - in audience and on stage - is in a "wow" state of awe and admiration of this audacious force of nature. 

blimey, it's almost as if i am doing an actual, proper review here. moving on, then, and i was thrilled that they did another favourite of mine (which i shall slightly censor here) in $wast!ka Eyes. i didn't really think  a live rendition of the song could match up to the polished perfection of the studio take, and to be fair it perhaps didn't, but still. also, unexpectedly, Medication got a play, which was most brilliant to hear. 

i would suggest that i have made it (reasonably) clear that this was one excellent gig. so, rather than saying that again, my favourite Bobby Gillespie stories. first, and best, was that time the band pulled out of appearing on Top Of The Pops at the (more or less) last minute. why? it turned out they were going to be flown in to Luton airport, and they (as in Bobby) decided that Luton airport "wasn't rock n roll enough". from memory they got a quasi "ban" off the BBC for a couple of years for that one. then there was that time (early 90s) that Dave Gahan was going slightly off the rails during a tour in America. legend has it that they opted to rush in Primal Scream to join them on the tour, for some reason assuming, or outright believing, that Bobby Gillespie would have a "calming influence". oh. 

right, that's that. for this post, not gigs. unless something dramatic happens. just a further 2 (two) gigs are lined up as things stand, with both (oddly) also going to be in (why aye man) Newcastle. this is particularly pleasing, for it is an excellent city with a focus mostly on having a good time all the time. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

on the lamberts

greetings

i feel it has been a reasonable amount of time since i gone done a post on the subject of cigarettes so, with little else to write of, time for another. for those of you who(m) pay the slightest bit of interest to anything i write, let me remind you that smoking is (very) bad for you, look you see, and you should either never take up the habit (or hobby) or cease (quit) immediately. help is available, apparently, only just not so much as if you were doing heroin, or some other thing which society deems rather more acceptable. 

with that out of the way, yes, another foray into the world of the more modest (as in sensibly) priced cigarettes procured from independent importers and distributors. yes, quite probably all within the realms (if not remit) of "not legal", but if i ask no questions i get to keep a nice, quiet life in which i can continue to smoke. probably should stop (as in quit), yet no. 

how the world changes. once it was so (say late 80s, more plausibly early 90s) that lambert and butler, which are the ones (cigarettes) i am currently "on" (smoking) were seen as a sort of cheap and cheerful brand, a sub-par smoking experience. back then it was the likes of embassy, regal, of course marlboro, benson and hedges and what not which were "proper". if you had the misfortune to be in that there London (innit) then of course you smoked silk cut, unless you were royalty (or nobility) and then it was pure john player specials, carrying as they did the royal seal (or warrant if that is the right term). of course now the re-branded "players" are cheap, whereas lambert and butler have a strange resonance of a posher brand than they ever were. 

make no mistake, these ones what i have are 100% counterfeit. there are telling (or if you will warning) signs, all fairly easy to spot. for a start, or to commence, the boxes are not sturdy at all, made of a cardboard so thin it would pass as paper. the font use is ever so slightly off, and the "foil" paper in the packets is either silver or a somewhat dull gold. as in not the same across all packets. you can't really make it out in the above (VHS mode) image, but on the cigarettes themselves that's not the generic, plain text font what is supposed to be used. 

certainly more effort has been put into the appearance of these than, say, the hit and miss Manchester ones i took a shine to, but at least them ones had a pretty solid, or if you will "proper", box. these cost me the same as those Manchester ones, which is a flat £5 per packet. i do believe in some parts of our land they can cost more, but then again also i have heard tales of the Manchester ones being sold for even less ("fewer") that the agreeably cheap price i have paid for them. 

this pricing tells you all of the absurdity of the pricing for "real" cigarettes, and why independent distributors here are both in proliferation and quite successful. for those not in the know, the price for these is south of one third of the cost of "real" ones down the shops. yes, that is how much us smokers get f****d over. and when they have destroyed entire the market for "legal" cigarettes in this country, know that they will be coming for you, be it your drink, food or whatever they believe they can punish you for with little beyond a murmur of disappointment. 

quite peculiar (or somewhat strange) that all "warnings", it seems, on the cigarettes i procure pertain to how it may affect my private parts, or winkie, or whatever you may wish to call male bits. here is a link to the most recent packs cautioning the same. one would assume this means as much to a lady smoker as the warnings about smoking whilst pregnant mean to me. nice that even the bootleggers are concerned for us in this regard, and indeed the "duty free" thing is a lovely touch. 

fairly recently there was a lovely "puff piece" (so to speak) in the news, concerning a "nationwide raid" on shops what sell things like vapes not meeting "standards", and cigarettes. with a straight face some spokesperson said that these independent cigarettes were "not as safe" as "legitimate ones". i believe that they meant "not as profitable for the government". realistically they likely hit all of "fewer" than 1% of such independent businesses, and even then ones thrown to them. it's like drug mules on a plane, those packing people with narcotics tip off the authorities about one of them so the others they have placed on the same flight waltz straight through customs. just the illusion of a victory on "the war on" whatever they don't like at the moment. 

do i feel at all upset about how purchasing "independent" cigarettes (such as these) is in some way funding criminals, terrorists, most probably the Russian war effort? well, i am not happy about it, but needs must. i could be flippant and say "look how government squanders the money from taxes". after all, official smoking figures are at their lowest ("fewest") and the NHS is more totes f****d than ever, when in the 80s and 90s all we heard was how once smoking was reducing how brilliant the NHS, free of treating smokers, would be. 

should it really be so that those absolute pr!cks, w@nker$ and freeloaders in government really, really wish to stop people purchasing "independent" cigarettes, there's an easy way to do it. right now, and yes i am including travel costs, if you fly to somewhere like Spain, Greece or some Eastern European nation, purchase a carton (10 packs of 20 cigarettes each) of Marlboro - not duty free, but from a shop - and fly back you would have saved £100 cost on buying the same quantity in the UK. no, of course they won't reduce the price here. that filthy lucre, all that lovely money, is too addictive for them. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

books

now then

so yes i have, since the last post on a similar (as in exactly the same) subject, i have read two (2) further novels, look you see. books, if you will, but i do like to say "novels" (i think) as it would be rather rare for me to read non-fiction. i take it as something of a given that i am reasonably far from being alone, in an unusual change of how it normally is, in wishing to avoid the realities of life as much as possible. 

for those of you have not ever (never) read one of my posts on books and are, for some reason, still reading this after the rather convoluted opening paragraph, a pretty standard pattern shall follow. just now there should be a pic of the books what i read, and then a bit of a "good or bad" comment for anyone in a rush or, importantly, wanting to avoid 'spoilers'. the likelihood of someone opting to read a book on my say so is rather limited, but here we are. 

going left to right, since that is the order in what i gone done read them, Close To Death off of Anthony Horowitz is outstandingly, absurdly funny and a sheer joy. next is The Blue Hour off of Paula Hawkins, and this was one truly exceptional novel. judging or ranking things of subjective, artistic nature is quite the folly, but i would suggest this is the equal of her (up to now) masterpiece, The Girl On The Train. 

right, then. i shall try and limit such of this as much as i can, but do be warned, for safety i shall go ahead and put a *** SPOILER WARNING *** in place for the remainder of this post. 

commencing, to say it again, where i did with these novels is to have a bit of a gander at Close To Death off of Anthony Horowitz. for those of you who only read this to discover (or learn) the provenance of my choice in books, yes, i do believe this was off of Tesco, likely when it first came out and was at "book of the week" price. well, i think that's the provenance. either this one or the one before it was bought for me by a good friend off of WH Smith (don't look for it, it's not there any more). should it be Tesco, then with that "club card" thing i would believe it was £4.50. 

plot? it's another episode featuring a (hopefully) fictionalised version of the author working with detective Hawthorne, writing the story of another investigation to the delight of the publisher if not the author himself. a bit different in this instance, for with no current case being investigated and a demanding publisher's deadline looming the writer has little choice but to delve into a case from long before the two of them met. Hawthorne does not want him to write it, the author does not want to write it, but onwards they go......

it truly is comedy gold, this one. the funniest part (or parts) is (are) when we get breaks in the the decidedly half hearted attempt Horowitz is making to write the novel to get criticism from those who have read it to tell him how awful and wrong it all is. somehow being told just how bad the book you are reading it makes it all the more enjoyable. bonus points for pulling off the remarkable act of "breaking the 4th wall" in a novel, when ostensibly all of a novel should do such. from memory, and i am not checking, the only time i can think of an author directly "speaking" (or writing, i suppose) to the reader outside of the context of the novel (in the midst of it) was The French Lieutenant's Woman. likely it has been done before and since, and sorry if it was not in that novel. risks come with my memory. 

doing comparisons is always a bit dodgy, but all the same these Hawthorne novels by Anthony Horowitz are of the same quintessentially English comedy genius of the likes of Monty Python, Douglas Adams and Peter Cook. the mixture of a really good, compelling "whodunnit" detective story with frequently self-depreciating humour is just jolly well splendid. i strongly recommend reading all of these books, preferably in the order they were published. 

we (or just me if everyone has stopped reading) go on, then, to the second of two novels. that, then, if you have forgotten, is The Blue Hour off of Paula Hawkins. no, you are not mistaken, in quite rare circumstances this is a hardback what i gone done read. usually i wait for the paperback, as generally i find it cumbersome to read the hardback edition. and the paperbacks are cheaper. the reason for the change is very much to do with book provenance. i was in that there London (innit) place, having dinner (lunch, if posh) at a Tesco. with parking being a premium in the city it was so that Tesco had a £5 minimum spend to qualify for free parking. my meal deal cost £3.60, i wasn't in the mood for browsing for something costing precisely £1.40, noticed this on the shelf for £8.50 (or possibly £8.75) and figured yeah, sure, go on, i will take it rather than wait for the paperback.

plot? my thoughts are it is deceptively simple when seeming complex, yet also i am struggling to phrase it all in such a way that i don't give much of anything away. essentially, i suppose, it all revolves around a deceased artist and some of her works of art apparently being missing. which leads to a stand off between the Estate which has inherited them and the impromptu friend / doctor of the artist who has assumed a kind of quasi curatorship over them.......

i really, really liked just about every aspect of this novel. well, ok, yeah, the straying into what one might (or possibly) call Jilly Cooper territory with "relationships of the rich and shameless" felt somewhat unnecessary, yet i suppose critical to one character's particular motivations. again, sorry if that's a clumsy sentence and says little, but i am doing my best to keep thoughts on this magnificent novel spoiler free. 

a favourite aspect of it all was the "art for art's sake" stuff. well, you know what i mean. there's a bit where one work left by the artist might need to be examined by the constabulary, which prompts all sorts of questions (with good or bad intentions) about if this desecrates, demeans or even destroys what the artist left behind. further, the author clearly had fun p!ssing about with the nonsensical, flamboyant and whimsical phrases "art critics" are so prone to use. people what make a living as art critics are just, rather like "wine experts", just really, really good at conjuring up outlandish phrases. 

both of these novels, then, were outstanding. no, i don't think i will go the hardback road again, thanks, whilst reading this one wasn't all that uncomfortable. probably as i am just chilled at lodgings in my place of exile these days, rather than travelling around. if for some reason you want a form of guidance of me, then of course the one from these two to go for immediately is the Paula Hawkins one, for you need not have read any other books to "get" or understand this. the joys of a standalone, not part of an expanded universe thing novel are to be embraced. yet yes, it is most decidedly so that all of the Anthony Horowitz books featuring his fictional self and detective chum (of sorts) are all quite wonderful reads. 

once again, or as usual, absolutely no idea if anything in this sort of post (books) what i gone done is of any interest, but i suppose the same could be said of all posts. no matter, thank you very much indeed for reading. or just looking at the pics.

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

high roller

hello there

of all that is true of our (mostly) perplexing world it is most decidedly so that we live with measure of control which easily meet the criteria of double standards. more levels than that, look you see, but long since has it been that anyone has the patience to count too far. here in the UK we famously have such on offer by the ruling government of the day. ostensibly they (the government) are supposed to be subservient to the people, elected to serve for the safety, security and betterment of we, the people. instead it is so most of us are subject to attempts to kill us all off, with the only exceptions being the protected TfL employees and, recently, Scunthorpe based steel workers. should you doubt this, cast your eyes upon how they are presently trying to kill off the entire population of Birmingham with a plague of rats. 

it should be no surprise, then, that "vices" (or if you will "entertainment" or "leisure activities") are similarly treated in different ways. whenever i feel the need (or compelled) to write of smoking it is so that i get the sense i am obliged to put a disclaimer in, warning of the dangers, so convincing has been the campaign to convince the masses that absolutely everything wrong with the world is all down to cigarettes. betting or gambling, however, appears (somewhat alarmingly) encouraged. you get adverts for it everywhere, various sports teams are happily sponsored by betting companies and bookies, as they are colloquially called, seem to dominate most of what remains of high streets. 

quite strange, this. my smoking really only damages me (moi) in the long term. oh yes, the plausible yet still unproven "second hand smoke" thing, which sees people over the road from you conditioned to do a little "cough" when they spot you smoking, somehow unaffected by the cars, buses and vans passing by. and yet as you are reading this (as in right now) someone is making a betting / gambling decision which will, in seconds, destroy their lives and anyone dependant on them. like families. but hey, advertise away. 

so yes, there's a distinct level of double standards here (if not outright hypocrisy) in that i am writing of a most triumphant gambling success. as in i placed a bet and i, for want of another word, won. 

exactly how much did i win? that you can observe in the (thermal style) picture above. with bourgeois opulence i am indeed showing off that i won 97 large, or 97 big ones. if, of course, you deem "pence" in proper pound sterling money to be either "large" or "big". 

how did i come to amass this fortune? well, by doing what i would usually do, only on a smaller scale. think that "less is more" thing off Jerry Maguire, only different. my normal approach is to put an accumulator ("acca") on 15 - 20 results, placing 25p on it in the hope all (football) results are correct, delivering a hefty pay out. when (invariably) this does not work, i have lost 25p, but had fun all the same keeping an eye on football scores i would not usually have given a flying f*** about. 

perversely it was a really, really late, as in more last second that last minute, goal off of, of all teams, Coventry that secured my famous, if not celebrated, win. this leaves me in a peculiar position of being somewhat thankful that a Coventry exists. before this bet was placed it was so that Coventry was only really known for three (3) things -

* ruining a perfectly good Monty Python joke by winning the FA Cup in 1987

* traditionally it's only Christmas when the tape of Coventry Carol by Chas n Dave is played

* year after year the single most searched for news story on the internet is "have they finally gotten around to demolishing Coventry yet?". 

rather mixed feelings, then, obviously, but obviously yes i claimed the money all the same. 

do i have any immediate (or long term) plans for this filthy lucre? it would be apt to spend it on cigarettes i suppose, but you won't get all that many with this. for now it's just all sat in my coin tin. well, my new coin tin, since a misfortune befell the one i had used for a few years. 

yes, i certainly am still doing these (those) "acca" bets. once you get a taste for the high stakes, big time wins like this you can't just wash it away and pretend it didn't happen. be careful if you follow this path. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

pedantic poetry pottery

greetings

usually, or perhaps generally, i am not all that good at games, look you see. mostly i would only play such for the fun of it, look you see, lacking any ambition, intention or desperation to "win". not all would agree or go along with this approach, but there you go. 

what is infuriating (or annoying), for me at least, is when the game is so heavily stacked against you there's precisely zero (0) chance of "winning". or competing, for that matter. such happened to me (at time of writing) about a month ago with one of them New York Times games. observe, if you will. 

yes, it's that blue one on the "connections" game. as in words "said" to have no exact rhymes. well, off the top of my head, three (3) do. you shall have to either indulge or forgive me here, for, as i have pointed out before, i am an english literature student (two degrees, actually), not a homosexual. poetry is not a strong point then, but......

as the diary turns i exhale in exile a sad harumph

in solitude, still, for yet one more month

my throat scorched, i reach for a lozenge

surprisingly shaded a sandy orange

i stand wistfully, forever outside a circle

gazing at a sky enflamed, all purple 

no, probably not my best efforts. if i did put some effort in (or just gone done a google) i may well have found a rhyme for silver, but still, how can i guess an answer that is incorrect? 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

kula shaker supporting ocean colour scene

howdy pop pickers

so yes indeed, another gig to write of. and what a fair dinkum double bill it was, look you see. the title more or less ("fewer") tells the tale, but indeed it was so that i went and saw Ocean Colour Scene, who(m) had very kindly brought top band Kula Shaker along for the ride as the ostensible support act. 

certainly, as has (alas) become the case, there's a few really, really bad images coming up. and, of course, some even (more) worse video. blimey the Samsung A14 is truly hideous. how i wish that LG would make phones again, theirs were excellent. right, let me get back on track, so to speak. 

this was, neither remarkably nor oddly, the first time i had any practical chance to go see the full tilt variation of Ocean Colour Scene. i had twice (here and here) been to see Simon and Oscar do their acoustic set. both of those (splendid) gigs gave me chance to hear almost all of my top tunes from the band, with particular emphasis on Travellers Tune. when the band entire has been on tour the venues and dates have been "tricky". would have loved to see them at Newcastle City Hall, for instance, as it's a boss venue, but the date for their most recent gig there was 21 December, which i felt rather too close to Christmas and, if we are honest, too close to that celebrated day in Newcastle, "black eye friday". 

anyway, the chance to (very much) see them on an agreeable date, within walking distance of my lodgings in this era of exile and with only a limited chance of getting punched in the face came along. so i did, and as indicated for good measure got to see Kula Shaker too. 

out there somewhere (possibly close to you) is the world's biggest Kula Shaker fan. this, alas, is not me. but, despite what you might think based on news and the dynamics of the way we are now influenced to view things, we are not in a world of extremes. whereas no, i wasn't the hugest fan, i did, like many others (and it is nice and peculiar to be not in a minority), consider them quite class. 

my working knowledge of them was (is) somewhat limited. had i been on Pop Master and had to name three of their songs in 10 (ten) seconds i might have just managed it, remembering Tattva, Hush, Govinda and of course Hey Dude. of those tunes, their recording of Hush remains the second best version of it, with the top one being PM Dawn using it for Downtown Venus, and the original incarnation by Deep Purple, or if you will the Perps, being a respectable third. yes, to celebrate this, some truly dire video footage from my terrible phone. 

i was really, really impressed with the Kula Shaker set. rather solid, excellent pacing to the tunes they took and the whole band full tilt threw themselves into the performance. as in no, this was no "here to make up the numbers" support set or anything like that; they gave me and probably many others a timely reminder that they are a most smart rock band. to my disappointment no, there wasn't, at least as far as i could hear, a dedicated fan screaming "Crispian" throughout the set, and also no so far as i am aware it was not so that Haley popped by to watch. quite a shame, as she would have liked it. 

with respect to the set i can totes remember them doing three (3) of the ones i mentioned. possibly they did indeed do all 4 (four) i knew, but perhaps missed Govinda whilst either listening out for anyone who(m) might be shouting "Crispian" or was at the bar. 

costs of gig and refreshments? well, the "ostensible" cost of the ticket for the gig was £40, plus "fees" and some sort of insurance. for the former it is well documented elsewhere that these "fees" they add on have some vague justification. as to the latter and the "insurance" is if you have to cancel going to the gig for any reason whatsoever, just so long as it is not on their extensive list of reasons which do not count as being valid. quite a waste, but i click it anyway. if we say £50, pretty good value, even if the Globe at Stockton (on Tees) is notorious for having most peculiar attendees. 

yes that is me enjoying a pint. by chance Eddie Baby was in a celebrated city in Ireland (to be sure) and by some stroke of luck he found a pub there, so we exchanged pint for pint pics. cost of a pint of camdens pale ale inside the Globe was £6, or £11 for a two pint pot, which appeared to get drunk as fast as a singular pint did. considering a pint of the same at the 100 Club recently was £6.60, well, i did really think the north-south divide would be more than 60p. some friends have told me off for actually using the bar at the Globe, pointing out the pubs over the road charge south of one half of that cost for the same thing. maybe they have a point, but it just seemed easier to get a couple in whilst there. 

believe it or not that is really an image what i took of Ocean Colour Scene. not the best quality is it, but you just hold on for the video below. 

they, the band (Ocean Colour Scene) did a solid, all right, decent enough set. i do not mean that to sound like a negative. this was never, ever going to be the best gig what i had ever seen, and there was never any realistic danger of it being the worst. mostly the set was same difference as the acoustic shows i had been to. yet it was a sheer delight to hear Travellers Tune full tilt, with it remaining one of the greatest and most beautiful songs what i have ever heard. in respect of the rock songs they don't do acoustic, i have never been bothered by Riverboat Song (too repetitive for me), but my word how excellent it was to hear them let rip with Hundred Mile High City. 

unfortunately no, the excellence of it isn't quite captured in the above clip, but still, if you are desperate for a vague kind of sense of what it is like, there it is. 

often i have heard people say that the biggest problem with the Stockton Globe (if you leave aside beer prices) is the idea that they "over sell" tickets, which is to say dangerously sell more than the capacity should really have. this i doubt. some of the problem is the security is absolutely sh!t, as observed at Adam Ant a while back. i have no doubt people what bought seated tickets just sneaked in to the standing area without getting stopped. also, truly strange behaviour at gigs at the Globe. there's that class bit of tape on the box set 30 Years Of Maximum R&B off of The Who where Pete Townshend shouts at the crowd to "f*****g shut up", telling them it's "supposed to be a f*****g rock and roll concert not a f*****g tea party". it was baffling to see so many people aimlessly wandering backwards and forwards, up and down at the gig, or just gathering and having a conversation through most of the set. being fair they paid for the ticket, good luck, but it's a bit much when it impacts on anyone who bought a ticket for a gig to see the actual gig. 

pretty good night out overall, then. not sure i would go and see either band at the Globe again, but would love to see them at, say, Newcastle City Hall, where the crowds do tend to be there mostly to actually watch (and of course listen to) the band. it just shows how opulent and wealthy Stockton must be if people can afford north of £40 each to just have a bit of a stroll and chat to mates. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

nhs blue box

hello there

well, mostly blue, look you see. i suppose if one were to take a ruler, or similar, to it there may well be as much white as there is blue to this. the address and what have you is in black, which would seem to take up a fair percentage too. you know what, this is rather distracting from what i wished to write. 

full well is it that i understand not too many are particularly interest in my plight. also, any instances of poor, poor pitiful me (or sentimental hygiene for that matter) are incidental, with no real ambition to evoke some sort of interest (or sympathy). i just thought all of this might be of some use, or interest, or possibly even reassurance to someone what got a similar box and had taken to google. 

pretty much as all here has stated, then, a blue (and other colours) box arrived in the post for me. well, not directly to moi. it went to my previous residence, where i was prior to this era of exile. no, i had not changed my address with a doctor (or the NHS) since entering this unusual time. didn't really see any point to it. long ago it was i gave up on the NHS. whereas i am a significant contributor to the cost of the whole inefficient mess they make it clear they have no wish to see me. any ailment that i approached a doctor with - a severed limb, for instance, or some other wound - would get from them the response that if i were to quit smoking and lose weight then i would be healed. 

despite using the quality of VHS mode for the above image i did (as a precaution) elect to obscure, if not censor, the address details. for this i have used a recently acquired (south of £5) tape (actual) of something called the EastEnders Singalong Album. no idea how this one passed me by in the 80s. the main motivation for purchasing this was to hear "horny" Pete Beale do a song called Barrow Boy. for those interested, and to provide an entirely unexpected musical interlude, below is a bit of video of the song playing on the tape. 

since i am once again distracted, changing one's address with the NHS is quite difficult. they do get all excited about what you can do with their "app" thing, but no, you cannot change your address with it, or rather on it. some searching dans le internet said i had to contact my current doctor (or GP) and get them to make the change. with it being tricky to visit them, i simply posted a letter asking for their assistance, giving them the details. to their credit they responded the day after i posted the letter. somewhat less ("fewer") to their credit all they said was that based on my new address i was no longer a patient of theirs, and that i should "use the internet" to find one close to me. did that, i think i am registered with a close by doctor and i hope my current address is now all updated. part of the celebrated laws of the English way of doing things is to make this needlessly complicated. 

no, i did not rush to open this box up then. mostly this was down to a suspicion that whatever was in it was being kept "sterile" or similar, and i saw little sense in rushing to open it whilst remaining in a sense of doubt as to if they had my address. being honest, there was also some hesitancy, as clearly their intention (if not ambition) was to test me for something or other. anyway, once reasonably sure that they would likely have the right address for me, on i went. 

yes, sure, part of the reason to put the above picture here was to showcase that blue i was talking (or writing, pedantic fans) about. granted, in retrospect a lot of the box is white, but still, it's the blue what seems more striking. moving on and, as you can (kind of) see in the above, the packaging seems to go to some lengths telling me where not to open it. perhaps it would be diplomatic to suggest this is done so as to ensure tests get done properly, but more likely it is them (rightly or wrongly) assuming the overwhelming majority of this country are (as point of fact) f*****g idiots, needing to have our hands held and be nursed at all times. 

what, exactly, did i expect to find in the box? my assumption was it was one of them "pin prick" blood tests. this was based on some offering from verk where they did a test for 20 or so things based on a submitted blood sample. i never did that one as it took longer than you might think to get myself weighed, which was a requirement. actually, in advance of this i did get weighed, and discovered that i have lost some 2 or 3 (possibly more) stone (no idea on metric) in two or three years. not that i have tried. getting weighed was tricker than it should have been. i reasonably assumed that a chemist with a pharmacy would have a scale, so in to one i duly went. they seem more confused than perplexed that anyone would want to know what they weighed, as if no good could come from such knowledge. eventually a rather stylishly dressed pharmacist, clearly having overhead the conversation, appeared with a set of scales and invited me to use them. 

oh. right. not a "pin prick" (or even an armful of) blood test then. well, to be fair, actually i think they are looking for blood, just not where it would usually be found. since the above image is not in VHS mode i would imagine what they needed from moi is reasonably clear. if not, or should you wish to have it spelled (spelt?) out, they required a "stool" sample. you know, poop. from a number two. for those requiring it (admittedly censored) more directly, they very much wished to have some of my sh!t. 

this is to test for bowel cancer. i believe there's a somewhat alarming increase in cases of this, mostly among(st) the young, and i think i saw on the news they believe it may be related to "protein diets", which i am certainly not on. my assumption, going ton when they sent this out, is that they opted to offer the chance of a test to me based on my similar to a deck of cards present age. 

getting this sample was going to be tricky. they had provided instructions, and their caution was that one could not simply shove the stick into excrement in a toilet (lavatory, if posh) as apparently it was seriously important that the sample had not touched toilet water. by chance i had an unused, and of course would never actually use again "food container" box in the cupboard. yes, as a nice distraction for you, the tape (actual) used to hide my details in this instance is the fabulous soundtrack for the 1982 brilliant Australian (g'day) film Starstruck. or Star Struck. it is a source of frustration to me that the soundtrack never got released on CD (hence the tape) and that the film is not widely available.

being blunt, frank (yet not Mr Sinatra) or direct, as it turned out (and you may wish to skip this part) the act (or art) of sh!tt!ng in a box was more complex and involved than i had anticipated. this was rather surprising, and kudos to them who do this frequently so as to post it (for whatever reason) to a wide range of politicians, rival football managers and what have you. i have a whole new level of respect for those who elect (or opt) to express their displeasure in such a convoluted way. 

it, as in the sample, and with no further graphic details, got done. from what i could tell (or ascertain) done exactly as they required, and popped (so to speak) in the liquid filled "sample" or specimen thing that they provided. should it be that i have to do similar again then i will totes get a bigger receptacle or what have you for it. maybe a cheap cat litter tray, or possibly the desk of a former employer or the bonnet ("hood", if American) of car belonging to someone i believe that i have a score to settle with. quite likely the cat litter tray idea, but one must indulge the occasional daydream.   

ultimately i don't think the word "scared" feels right. there is a sense of trepidation, i suppose. i would not say i have ever been flippant but blasé would be fair in regards of any possibility of cancer entering my life. being entirely honest, well, with my enthusiasm for smoking (sorry) whenever i had briefly given passing thought to the subject i just accepted mouth or (more likely) lung cancer would be a thing to face, if not some heart issues. at no stage did it occur to me to get tested for anything, instead being resigned (or accepting) that i have rolled the dice, i must accept how they land. 

posted, then, this sample has now been. not really sure it was (entirely) necessary to censor (or cloak) the address to where it is going, but all the same nice to showcase just one of the tape copies of The Joshua Tree off of U2 i have. no, not any intended symbolic reason for using a copy of this album, just seemed like a good idea when i took the pictures. 

lately, and for some reasonable time (more than i would care to confess) i have found myself letting my mind linger on all that i have lost; on all that is lost to me. over Christmas a young lad living not far away from my place of exile clearly got a new bicycle. as i stood having a cigarette (sorry) i watched him flying (well, riding at speed) on it, clearly with a big smile. that sense of freedom from doing so touched a sense of nostalgia i didn't know was there. i see couples, families and groups of friends walking around, making their way in the world. such makes me lament that this will never be me, this cannot be me. but, as i said, i rolled the dice. perhaps the dice were loaded, but i rolled them all the same. 

kind of disappointed that it wasn't the "blood pin prick" sort of test, partially as it would have been considerably easier but mostly i was rather eager to see how many i failed. don't remember, but if it was 20 things they tested for in that i would have reasonably expected to fail, say, twenty. 

i suppose this is not a rehearsal, or a special effect. should by some miracle or quirk of fate my correct address in exile be updated and i get the test results, yeah, sure, i will put something or other about it here. maybe not with so many tapes, but what else would i do with the information. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

UPDATE

not entirely sure which of you shall see this is a good thing or a bad thing, but with some impressive speed i got the results back. so yes, it seems, they (the NHS) did manage to have my updated address all on record and sorted out. also those reports of you (or one) having to wait several months for them to do anything at all would appear somewhat exaggerated. 

i don't rightly know why, exactly, i went to such tremendous artistic (kind of) lengths to hide my name, for it is not like there's a whole lot of people looking to impersonate me. also it's not like they could do all that worse a job (or what have you) with my life than what i am doing. 

many thanks for reading. 

the monkey

now then

so, a third visit to the cinema for me this year (2025). and one which feasibly could be the last of the year, look you see. more on that as i ramble on, but for clarification it was (a month or so ago) that i went to go and see, as the title of this post suggests, The Monkey. 

for those of you in some sort of rush, or just wish to avoid any (and all) possible spoilers, yes, this film was really good. how good? very. the best way i can describe it is like a classical 80s horror film, yet informed a sort of "meta" knowing homage of this peculiar century. quite extremely yet comically graphic with gore every now and then, so be warned, but well worth it.

plot? two brothers who(m) are not particularly keen on each other come to inherit, from their father, a wind up drum playing monkey. eventually, via some unfortunate events (note that comical but still rather graphic gore and violence warning earlier) they come to the conclusion that the monkey is either cursed or just plain evil. attempts are made to either rid the world of it or see if they can't harness the power of the monkey to do their bidding........

it was, as a priority mention, wonderful to watch this with a cinema audience. somewhat similar to that time i went and saw the brilliance of The Substance, the "violence" was so insane, out there and graphic i could tell the audience like me were at first gasping, unsure if it was appropriate to do so, and then we more or less all had to laugh at some of it. especially, i suppose, the pool bit. back in the 80s i suppose it would have been that me and my mates would have rented this with enthusiasm (no doubt it would have featured in an imported copy of Fangoria), watched, laughed and then rewound the tape to watch the bits we just laughed at again. 

just a generally well paced, effective dark horror comedy for slightly north of 90 minutes. absolutely well worth watching and i am not convinced it really needs all that much more of a review. 

yes, indeed, it was once again off to the joys of the Ealing Project cinema to see this one. on a Tuesday of course, as that's when the tickets are cheaper if not precisely half price. for refreshments i went a slightly bit more modest. from what i recall i got the "large" coke but just the "middle size" popcorn. as i am no longer (or no more) going to that there London (innit) for verk this may well have been my last visit to the place. or any cinema, since the ones near me (except for a community one which seems to show only children's films for holidays and well meaning stuff that i have no interest in) are all but impossible to get to without a farcically expensive bus trip and a mile walk (each way) to get to the cinema after that. oh well. 

rather unlikely that anyone is here to read this for either my plight (see previous paragraph) or trivia, but if you have an interest in the latter, yes this film was based on a Stephen King short story. weirdly in the novel the (cursed) monkey played cymbals, but so many films have paid homage to that since they decided to switch to drums to make it a bit different. that this has happened so frequently to motivate the change perhaps tells you just how good the source material, and this film, are. 

trailers for other films that i would have liked to go to the cinema to see but shall now have to probably wait for the video to come out included Mickey 17, which does look class, Death Of A Unicorn, which looks insane, and oddly Minecraft, with me being more impressed with the general premise and what i saw in the trailer than i had expected to be. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lynx unity reimagined under renewed review

greetings

it feels like quite some time since i did a review (or what have you) of any sort of lynx deodorant, or fragrance or body spray or whatever they call it now. yes, look you see, i am going to do that thing i do whenever the subject is lynx and declare that i am full tilt aware the branding (or name) of it in certain parts of the world is "axe". 

somewhat unusually it is so that, as the title kind of suggests, i am revisiting one of their vast, diverse range. just slightly south of six years ago (!) was when i first encountered the "unity" style, although it was packaged (branded) quite differently. you are welcome to have a look at the post i did then, which can be achieved by clicking here. 

once again i also further declare that yes, i am (quite) aware of the target market for any lynx (and presumably axe) product is feral teenagers, with the idea that the scent enables or encourages them to be drawn together for quasi mating / breeding purposes. generally it is so that no one over, say, 15 or 16 should be wearing (or using) it, but alas i have not found a "grown up" one that i like. not that i particularly care for all of the lynx ones, with "gold" being my go to. 

looking back on my post (and it is indeed rare that i read my own stuff, no idea how you lot all manage it) and it would seem that in the first instance lynx, with "unity", were rather keen to latch onto all of that "gender fluid" market. whereas then they used "unity" as meaning boys and girls could use it, which doubles a demographic for sales quite nicely, now it's all trying to sell to that mysterious LGBT+ market. to that end, there's a "helpline" number on the tin. not exactly sure what help they offer, or in respect of what concern, but i do happen to know, much to the chagrin of Spiros, it's not a sort of impromptu service dedicated to helping gents find similar minded gents. 

whilst it would be a bit too much to suggest (or declare) the above image as being one of the "lamppost of lesbianism", it all the same feels quite apt to share it here in this post. i must confess it had never occurred to me to use the phrase "sucks fanny" as an insult or in any disparaging way, but here we are. by the way, as usual, for our friends in America, fanny does not mean what you think it does in this instance, and you are using the word all horrendously wrong. 

how does this lynx unity smell? well, on the tin it implies the fragrance (built, apparently, on essential oils) is of a "rose and pear" scent. to be fair it is not as overtly musky like musk as the overwhelming majority of their offerings, but still. it all, to my sense of smell (admittedly eroded by smoking, or at least it is according to curiously unspecified experts), seems to have a scent of zesty lemon, or something along those lines. 

does it work? i don't rightly know what the intention was here. having used it for a couple of weeks it is simply not so that anyone has approached me to discuss my scent. oddly, yes, people in the past have taken a shine to what deodorant (or whatever) i have used and asked about it. in this instance, nothing. was it that lynx designed this to make people who wore it a sort of ambassador for all things LGBT+, or to show off "acceptance" or to advocate it? if so then it failed. no one said "oh wow, you smell like you are open minded and accepting". also, in respect of the general use for lynx (see earlier comments concerning feral teenagers), no one said "wow that smells great, please bum me" or anything like that t all. people moved away from me no more than usual, at the least. 

for provenance concerns i seem to recall purchasing these quite some time ago, at Superdrug, for some silly giveaway price, circa £2 i believe. it was almost like they were just trying to get rid of it as quickly as possible. very doubtful that i shall ever get this one again, unless (of course) i see it cheap. 

there is every chance you think (or believe) the "swirl" thing on the can art design is familiar. so far as i am aware it's not standard branding, but did indeed feature on the ill-fated, short lived "love" deodorant what they did. yes, click on the word there (its name) and you should get to see my post on that one, if for some reason you are interested. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!