These go to 11...

We're doing a show in Paris this weekend. I'm guessing you'll probably hear it.
I don't know if the masterplan is to brainwash the crowd into buying the new CD, or simply to explode their heads. Either way, I'll be there, camera at the ready.

We can rebuild him. We just don't want to...

It may surprise some of you to learn that I can be a bit of a miserable, sarcastic bastard. No, really, it's true. I by-and-large managed to curtail this personality trait, but it still comes out in my writing. I can in fact, sometimes come across as bitter, callous, even downright nasty. So I'm sorry for that. Really sorry. I cry myself to sleep over what I've done to your feelings, then wake up and punch myself in the nads.

There I go again. Sorry. Sorry. Aaargh. Aaahh, better. Anyway, point is I'm going to make efforts to keep this to a minimum, or at least save it for appropriate occasions. I just find it difficult to admit that things are pretty good for me. I'm the little guy. The underachieving joker who always gets picked last, always drops his ice cream cone into burning dogshit. Well, no more. I've got a decent job, a gorgeous girlfriend who loves me unconditionally (proved beyond doubt this past two weeks, cad that I am), and I get paid in Euros. So even the weakening pound works in my favour. Ha! Screw you, credit crunch!

So yeah, things may change a bit round these parts. They may even get a little bit mushy on occasion. But for now, feast your eyes on the unmoulded hunk of sex-clay that is

Flaky Guevara

Flaky was actually born, somewhere in Latin America, with that beard. In it's short time with we mere mortals, The Beard of Flake has been home to a clutch of sparrows, several species of hitherto unknown weevil and, during his gap-year trip to Belize, a family of pygmies sheltering from Hurricane Alan. Now, in downtown Dublin, he aids the community by protecting old ladies. Not only do these chin-pubes turn water, but they can also be manipulated to turn any park bench into a gazebo. The US government are currently sampling fibres from Flaky's beard as defence from the Russian and Iranian missile program(s).

Yep, it's a cheap shot, and not even a strong one, but I'm trying to lighten the tone at the same time as not getting fired. If it's not enough, Nuts is only.. actually I have no idea. So that's another thing to be proud of.

Hooray for me.

I walk through walls/I float down the Liffey

I went to Dublin for my 30th birthday. My girlfriend booked it as a surprise, which I managed to blow when I suggested we go there for a weekend while I was back for the summer. Nice place. We ate ttraditional Irish boxty; potato pancakes. Mine had a steak in it. I could have eaten there twice a day for the whole 3 days.

Drank a lot of Guinness. It does taste better there. Still tastes like you're rinsing out dry coffee granules with a sodden barcloth, but it was better. Went to a park, saw Oscar Wilde lounging on a rock, saw two huge rats.

We visited James Joyce's house. Or at least a house dedicated to Joyce, with an explanation of his opus Ulysses and such. He's looking a bit pale of late.

My girlfriend and I also had a row and quickly buried it. Which played it's part in a much bigger row which would unfold itself a few days later and is yet to be concluded. It's too early for a post mortem, too late for hindsight. I may come back to this or I may just sweep it under the covers and go back to moaning about my job.

So yeah, Dublin. I wouldn't recommend going on a weekend. We were leaving Friday evening and by 4pm it was a different city. Distinctly more cunts. But the biggest one was just about to leave... *

* It was me.

Oh, just fuck off and die so I can replace you

My computer has a virus. In fact, it's had a long painful illness, and now to top it all, it snuck off to the wrong end of town (Woolworths is the demarcation line in North Shields), shacked up in a shooting gallery with some bad Macs, and caught the AIDS.

It's a wonder I'm even typing this, and my computer may spazz out and show me that blue screen at any moment. It doesn't help that the whole thing is in Dutch. And yes, I've tried changing the language; It doesn't work. Nor does the Norton antivirus which was present when I got it, or the new one I bought last week, which will definitely be charged to the company, converted to Euros and pissed into the Liffey on our birthday visit to Dublin later this week. But I will soldier on, to no end. I'm not big on computers. I've never owned one, * and I'd be quite happy if I never did. But now that I have a digital camera and an addiction to I has a Hotdog, it's a necessary evil. Oh, and this wonderful blog, of course, my raison d'etre.

Anyhoos, as an update, it seems I've curbed the nasty drinking dependence I've been working on for the past 7 years or so, with the help of my girlfriend, so I must thank her for that. I do believe I went almost a week without a drink at one point, and I would say I didn't even think about it more than twenty times a day. * I had a pint after my great-uncle's funeral, and a bottle of Stella at one of my one-year-old niece's two parties, but that was about it. We got a bit boozy last night, after a blissful day reading the sunday papers(tm) and rediscovering The Beatles (if you haven't * heard of them, you should really consider looking them up) but I feel as young Britons, it's our duty to get pissed on the weekend.

We went to see the new Batman the other night... I had expected to be disappointed with the whole thing, and cynical about the praise for Heath Ledger. But I've got to admit, I left the theatre giddy about the whole thing. Granted it was a little long, and Batman's scratchy voice was pretty annoying early on, but I'm * pretty hard-pushed to think of a better movie I've seen, that's been released in the past 10 years. I was even converted to the new-look Batmobile (and kick-ass bike). But a 12A? I have a 12 year-old nephew, and Im not sure I'd want him watching that. And we've sat together and watched 300 and We Were Soldiers, and he didn't bat an eyelid. That trick with the pencil in the desk? Snapping the pool cue in half? Dark, indeed. And that shit the Joker did with his tongue was just creepy. Roger Ebert talking-about-Hermione -Granger-creepy.

And that's about it, people. Hopefully some sumptuous photos of Dublin next week. Til then, I'm off to make my neighbours' ears weep with a liddle bidda geetar practice.


* Every time you see one of these, my browser kicks me off and tries to trick me into downloading an XP antivirus, and I have to reopen the post as an edit. If this post ends abruptly, it's because I've thrown my disease-riddled, obsolete, piece-of-shit-fucking laptop into the courtyard for the seagulls to use as target practice.