I just added the song "Sailing to Byzantium" by the Liars to my listening section, its a fantastic version of the song that's not on the album, instead its from a special "Radio Sessions" EP that came with about 300 copies of their Self - Titled 2007 release. I hope all my friends give it a go, because I can't recommend it enough. Cheers!The stuff that's already there is all classy, so check it out as well.
Read more…
“Did you just try to throw the helium-filled balloon on the floor?”Unfortunately, there were only two people present when this question was asked and I was not the questioner.
Read more…
Yup, after all these years, it's now time to be a big girl and to become a pharmacist. Mmm! I knew that it would be very hard and time-consuming... but I didn't think that I wouldn't have time for music anymore. Well, with the exception 30 minutes in my car everyday... Maybe I'll end up being completely lost in new music, not knowing what to listen to? Anyway. Time will tell! Maybe after my internship, it will get better? Improbable! At least there is Radiohead on August 6th... and last week, I saw Karkwa for the 3rd time. Great night, as usual... Thanks God for the spare day!
Read more…
ah, my lovely little w-a-s-t-e-rels!the glesca green gig, for those of you who weren't there was fantastic, on a par with the oxford south park and meadowbank gigs in scale and excellence. the new songs took on a life of their own and i think the band has finally evolved beyond the comfort blanket of the bends and ok computer, albums most bands would tour to death for decades if they had the chance. it isn't a great surprise, i suppose. i'm old and ugly enough to remember the fanzines bitching about creep being an albatross around their neck that they'd never get away from. 2+2-=5 also sounded better live than i ever remember it.don't get me wrong, the oldies still bring a tear to the eye, or maybe it was the rain. it was glasgow, after all...one minor complaint - for all their bluster about fans using public transport to travel to the show, i'm pretty sure the band's environmental considerations would have been equally well-served by a few energy-saving light bulbs in the stage show. sanctimoniousness never sits wells with rock bands, look at bono.my associate FACTS (FOR IT IS HE!) popped his radiohead cherry at the gig and, despite being a long time fan, was blown away. much amazement and nostalgia which lead to many conversations like;"how many years ago did we first hear this one?""dunno, but i could see my willy without breathing in!""fuck that, i could still breathe in!"FACTS (FOR IT IS HE!) is the slightly tamer brother of known associate THE LEGEND.THE LEGEND, by the way, recently had his offer of commitment knocked back by his own stalker. seriously.anyway, the gang all gathered at the domicile of mr and mrs FACTS (FOR IT IS THEY!) for a lovely bbq (with many meat-free options) the next day. friendships, family and absentees were toasted with much vigour. i made short work of a bottle of tuscan chianti, a lovely rioja and a wine to be confirmed at a later date. no gelatin in them, either...due to the length of the gathering, and my desire to not make a drunken fool of myself, much care was taken to pace said boozing. i made a pretty good job of it, all told, if the hostess MRS FACTS (FOR IT IS SHE!) is to be believed.i even declined to do my party piece of tiffany - i think we're alone now. restraint, thy name is steve...another reason, dear friends, for the restraint was the looming, dreaded sunday shift at the death star. bad enough in itself, hungover it is impossible. making matters worse was the return of the lovers (see previous blogs for details) and the offer of danger-sex in the disabled toilets held hazard enough, without the handicap of a hangover.fortunately, the lovers seemed not to have fallen out on hoilday, and only had eyes for each other. a boring shift ensued so i decided to peruse a well-known internet auction site. i wasn't ready for what happened next.dear readers, i swear i went home and straight to bed the previous night. surely, the wine hadn't caused me to bid for items i can ill-afford and wipe the memory from my brain?the evidence to the contrary was plain. i had bid for a rather nice pair adidas gazelles, a lovely harrington jacket and......a roman centurion's helmet.i suppose it would've completed the look. ah well, i didn't win. the finances remain the right side of pitiful.thanks for listening to my drivel, i love you all.i do. i love you.steve x.
Read more…
Theory: The universe has taken my brain hostage and is declining its return until I — (what is something I could never do?) — stop thinking about and referring to myself in a pejorative manner.Alternate theory: My brain is suffering severe atrophy and what currently seems like a mere hiatus in relative normalcy is actually a permanent and therefore everlasting calamity.Moderately realistic and highly metaphorical theory: Recent events have caused my brain to go on a sympathy strike due to my figurative heart’s recent cease in [more] figurative operation.Extra-terrestrial theory: My brain is currently being borrowed without consent by experimenting aliens and has been replaced with a makeshift brain.Word to the mothership: If this is the case, I’ve noticed. Unimpressive.Existentialist theory: I am having a quarter-life crisis.Paris Hilton theory: I am stuck in a blonde moment.Data: My behavior.Tests: Subject is an unwilling participant.Observations: Disconcerting.Conclusions: None.Serenity: Later.Despair: Certain.
Read more…
Here’s another pet peeve of mine:When you see someone and go, “How are you?” and they say, “Hello,” or worse, “Hey.”That’s how you are?I’m asking you for a summarized mental status report here. Answering isn’t optional.Allow me to share some conversations from the past week which may or may not have directly inspired my sudden irritation:Me: Hi! How are you?Someone more socially retarded than myself: Hey.Me: …Me: How are we doing today?Someone more socially retarded than myself: Hello.Me [patience wearing thin]: …Me: How. [pause] Are. [pause] You?Someone more socially retarded than myself: I’m outside right now, actually.Me [done with the world]: …I’ve overdosed on human interaction lately. I hope no one ever talks to me again.
Read more…
This is interesting from Dead Air Space. The web as we know it is at risk and we can't allow the theft of our rights to use it as we have been used to. It will change the way we communicate with the rest of the world in every meaningful way. Check out this video to find out more. Save the Internet | Rock the VoteRead more…
Если вы ещё сомневаетесь, какую музыку играют Радиоголовые, спешу сообщить, что индейскую. Об этом можно узнать в русскоязычном Facebook'е. Я всегда говорила, что индейскую, а надо мной смеялись и утверждали, что инди. Вот теперь идите и смотрите:)))
Read more…
Let me back let me back I promise to be good don't look in the mirror at the face you don't recognize help me call the doctor put me inside put me inside put me inside put me inside put me insideI want to be whole again
Read more…
hoy realmente no me levantè con muchas ganas de algo...me duele el cuerpo...mi imàgen no se asemeja a nada conocido..espero algùn dia morir en el olvido de estas sustancias que me vuelven tranquilamente a mi lugar.lloro lentamenteno te creoespero que lo sepasno te creo nada de nada.
Read more…
have a low tolerance for humanity in general, but this week really made me want to slather myself in gasoline and light a match. Here are some things to avoid if you want to stay on my good side:1. Don’t stop mid-conversation with your “boy” as I pass you in the hallway and attempt to entice me with a line like, “Oh, hey, what’s going on, beautiful?” except it sounds more like, “Yo, wuz goin’ on, boodaful?” only to follow it up with, “Bitch,” as I ignore you and continue walking. I prefer my men how the general population prefers their newscasters: able to enunciate.2. Don’t ask me about the “spanish” side of my family unless you want me to ask you about the history of inbreeding in yours.3. Don’t have a two-minute debate in the library with your best friend at the table next to mine regarding the authenticity of my tote bag, causing me to finally get up and say on my way out, “Yes, ladies, it’s Coach.”4 Don’t say, “y’know?” after explaining how you just had an acid trip flashback in the middle of work. No, I don’t know.Future unemployment line of America, I’m looking at you when I say this: stop annoying me. Please.
Read more…
So, public speaking. Very few people like it and those people are rarely seen by the rest of the world as they are no doubt currently holed up in various mental institutions. The rest of us are usually told to imagine something funny before we deliver our speeches to help ease our nerves.The typical example is to imagine someone in their underwear. Funny? No. Something I probably don’t want to see unless Jared Leto happens to be in the audience? Yes.Thus, when public speaking occasions arise, I have to call on my own natural form of Xanax. To this day, the funniest thing I’ve ever imagined is a playground wherein there is a sign stating: ABSOLUTELY NO FUN ALLOWED. Agree? Disagree?Before you disagree, I ask this of you: just imagine it.Okay, I gave your imaginative abilities too much credit. I’ll make it easy:
That was probably a bad example, as I’m unsure how anyone could have an experience resembling a good time with those wimpy pieces of plastic masquerading as slides, but you get the point.Anyway.I know what you’re thinking. How would such a rule be enforced? The police, of course, from the No Fun division.
It’s probably a good thing I gave up my dream of becoming the president in first grade.
Read more…
If you are viewing this blog from work and being the reason why everyone is underpaid (they have to account for lack of productivity from lazy individuals such as yourself) or lack speakers for some reason, here is what it says:Hi, this is Vanessa. A few things: number one, this is not Dave’s phone. Do not leave a message for Dave. He’s obviously never going to call you back since he didn’t care enough about you to inform you of his number change. Number two, don’t leave a message for me either. Again, do not leave a message for me either. I don’t listen to my messages because I let them build up and then it just stresses me out, so I delete them all. If I want to talk to you, rest assured, I’ll see your missed call and I will call you back. Bye-bye.Simple enough, right? Wrong. So very wrong. Though I have had this phone number for almost a year, at least twice a week, I have two or more voicemails that begin with, “Hi Dave…”Even more disturbing than that, I end up with a ton for myself, including ones that start with, “NESSA! I know you listen to these mes–”See what just happened there? I deleted it. I know I come off like I’m socially retarded, but such precautions are necessary, for it legitimately stresses me out to listen to voicemails. Please, citizens of this already doomed country, don’t make me doubt our fate more than I already do: follow
Read more…
