Business Pants!

Being the super-professional that I am, what with my business jeans and trainers look conveying the image of a man so professional he can afford to look lazy, I put out a small survey to certain individuals that basically asked "Yo dawg, this blog is tight! But could it be tighter?"

Note the intricate detail on the trainers and fastening.

The response amused me, all the while inflating my ego, as is the benefit of asking close friends for their opinion on something in a way a small puppy would ask if it were ugly (the answer is no). Regardless, something came to my attention; there aren't enough pictures. To date my blogosite is an almost impenetrable wall of text that, while effective at keeping invaders a bay, appeals less to the TL;DR crowd (that's Too Long ; Didn't Read for those not in the know). The answer to this is quite simple; use more images. I have a camera, it could be used to catalogue the outside world so you never have to leave the comfort of your home or, gods forbid, fully dress yourself. Is that what you want? For me to get my camera? Because heaven help you if I find it!
In conclusion, the foreseeable future may well contain my efforts to hurl images into your eyes at the speed of light. You have been warned!


BONUS: This month has seen a nice boom in traffic and has made it the most successful month ever! Thanks to all those who tune in and extra thanks to those over the pond in the colonies, who are creeping up on the number one traffic source spot. You hear that UK? The USA is after your belt. What you gonna do about it?

Pop Culture

Another quickest of quick posts. I'll try not to make a habit out of it or it will seem like I'm just using your time for my own benefit. Which is just silly of course. Ludicrous even!

So on one of my daily trips to The Awesomer (yes daily because it's that awesome) I was introduced to a certain video to a certain song. The problem however is that there is no sound on my office computer, "No matter," I thought to myself, "I'll get around to it at some other point at home." On I went. Time did that old passing thing it so loves to do and I found myself at home scouring the interweb for things to amuse me that weren't more cat videos. A few clicks later and there was that video. Around 20 minutes later I decided to stop watching and listening to it. Was I bored with it? Was it simply too long? Far from it. The video itself is just under 4 minutes in length and I had watched it on repeat since it began. In simple terms, it blew me away. The music, the dancing, the sheer spectacle of it! As soon as it was possible the song was sitting on my library playlist ready to be repeated at will.
It is in fact a music video of sorts but not to just any song, no nothing as simple as that. It is a music video to a song made up from 39 other songs. 39! To make things even more impressive, the creator of this wonderful piece of sound is only 17 years of age. Talk about putting your achievements in perspective or what. He goes by Madeon. The song goes by Pop Culture. And I'm going to watch it again. Enjoy.

(Psst! Down here! I spoke to the elves and they should have fixed the commenting system so you don't need to sign into anything if you don't want in order to...well, comment. Please do or all their hard work will be for naught. Those bytes, mega or otherwise, are heavy to tiny imaginary folk don'tcha know.)

Talk In Code

What do you get when you mix a little rock, some dance, good beats, clear vocals and catchy tunes? Talk In Code, the fresh new band from down South with a sound that seems stadium-ready. A five-piece consisting of the usual bass, guitar, drums and vocals only with the added electronics of the synthesizer, this group of lads hailing from Swindon have a single coming out at the end of the month that I can't wait for everyone to hear. I was personally treated to some tracks and I can already hear them playing to a crowd. The track Another Reason is my favourite of the samples available at their page on a certain social network and is the best example of what these boys can do. Give them a listen and if you're so inclined, a like, because with more likes to the page, their single gets brought forward a day. What have you got to lose? It's just a little click.

John and Jane Doe, Come On Down!

Names. If there is one thing truly difficult for me to remember, then it is undoubtedly names. That and birthdays that are not my own. Unless there is something altogether different, unusual or just plain memorable about either the name/nickname (Stitch, Puddles, +1 II, Download Festival 2010), the event surrounding the introduction (JW and BS, Mystery Google Mission 2009) or the individual, then my mind becomes a chasm for that name to fall down. It's a common failing no doubt and for some it's faces that give them the very same problem. Then for the unlucky few it's both. To counter this, when I wish to get the attention of one of the nameless or to greet them, I raid what little I do remember for ways to address folk. The resulting 'names' I give are simple; mate, dude, darling, love. This is effective so long as people (read: fools) don't name their offspring anything that is a form of social address, and, lets face it, when 'Frankly' is on a birth certificate then we can't be too far off.

Masterpiece courtesy of office computer.

  The issue here though isn't that my mind is how the French say, le shite, it's that I lose contact with people so easily. With the dawning of the social network and the almighty Google (long may he reign) it is no trouble to find people in order to continue the pressing argument of which Lethal Weapon Mel 'sugar-tits' Gibson lost his mullet in. But when you can't remember their name or at the very least their full name, it becomes next to impossible and thus you lose contact with someone quite possibly forever. A spin on this is trying to find old school friends whose surnames have changed due to a marriage. Or perhaps the very spelling of their name eludes you. The number of times my friends and I have returned from a festival, bodies deprived of sleep and saturated with enough bad food and alcohol to kill Elvis all over again, only to realise we don't remember the names of any of the amazing people we met, are all too common an occurrence.
  Recently I found myself wanting to reconnect with friends that have long been absent from my life, only to find their old e-mail address or phone number had fallen by the wayside or that their surname had up and vanished from the thing inside my head. It saddens me that for all the information available to me I can't talk to them for who knows how long, some possibly ever again. Can you think of 5 people right now who you haven't spoken to in some time? Can you readily contact each one of them? Would you want to? Unfortunately for my lost and found I am a persistent one in these regards and shall endeavour to bring them back into the fold.
  The poor buggers never stood a chance.

The Leader of Rings

"Roll up, roll up!"
The be-hatted man calls. White gloved hands shining in the spotlight.
The leader of rings is his name, spectacle and wonder is his game.
With a point of his cane the limelight shifts
And in from the curtain come those with gifts.
Fire and knives, heat and sharp edge.
Men as strong as the colours are bright.
Raggedy clowns with great big red noses.
Contorting girls striking unusual poses.
Sparkling assistants all feathers and sequins.
Pale ghosts spinning in the ether.
"Do not be afraid, but amazed instead!
Filled with awe and not with dread."
A swish of his tails, a stamp of his boot,
And silence befalls the audience.
He whispers so softly, smile creasing the makeup,
"I beckon you now; roll up, roll up."



There is a circus in my town. An honest to goodness, tent-raising, act-performing, circus. And a camel.
 Now as quaint as my nook of Yorkshire is compared to other cities, we do get some shows passing through now and then and sometimes they happen to be of the big-top brotherhood. Luckily for me, these travelling performers set up camp in a field I pass daily on my walk to and from work (I blog and I work, how does he do it?) and so in the mere moments we cross paths I get to peek into their lives; the lives of the latter-day jesters and bards. I for one have never been to a circus. Some of you may consider that to be a loss, others may not give a damn because you have cooler things to be doing or are too busy. But right now, as curious as I am as to the goings on inside that brightly coloured tent, a little part of me doesn't want to. The reason? Because in my mind that has been forever programmed by television, movies, books and stories galore, the circus is a place of wonder and magic. A place where everyone is forever in costume and going about their business while knives fly through the air, fire bursts from mouths and ghostly figures glide above heads, twisting and spinning on invisible wires. The nomads that drift in and out of town with their motley wagons, have an air of mystery about them, that I am more than sure would be eternally ruined by the truth.
 Childish? Most likely. Naive? Quite probably. Fun? You're damn right.

My gods, would I love to interview them though.

Shooting Up On Phat Beats

Okay I used some street slang, so sue me.
I've been on something of a new music binge of late; looking for new bands, musicians or albums that tickle my fancy (just where on the body is the fancy anyway?). This doesn't necessarily mean the music is new to everyone, far from it. Onwards!


The xx - I finally got around to listening to the whole self-titled album and fell in love with the sound right away. The song Intro has been in my possession for some time thanks to a certain someone and it gets listened to enough to make my abuse of other music in my possession almost criminal. The songs have a sound unto themselves and I struggle to find another artist or band to compare them to. Smooth vocals and electronic beats that are more calm and mellow than their nightclub counterparts make for a great debut album. If you haven't heard a track then hop on the information super highway and give one a go. If it piques your interest then you'll most likely enjoy the whole album.


Bitter Ruin - A gem uncovered by the ever wonderful LastFM recommendation list. Not a vastly popular band, this duo nevertheless deserves some recognition in the big, wide world. Consisting of an acoustic guitar with some quick fingers, male vocals that invoke similarities to Jonathan Rhys Meyers and female vocals that give me a Jane Horrocks vibe in their range, Bitter Ruin are the sound of noir-folk if there ever was one. Give this and this a listen and form your own opinion.


Dethklok - This quasi-imaginary band, stars of the hilarious animated show Metalocalypse, have two albums to date. I acquired the first some time ago and still find the melodic death metallers amusing when they spout lyrics like 'Do you folks like coffee? Real coffee, from the hills of Columbia' to the shred of a guitar and thump of drums. The second album is a recent acquirement though and the change is instantly noticeable. The music has found deeper comfort in epic melodies that a Viking biker might listen to on his weekly pillage, while the lyrics have moved away from the jokes and become those of a true death metal band; all aggression and violence. And still the riffs and guitar solos are something to behold. If you don't mind some fast and heavy rock music then this might be right up your street.


Hugh Laurie - As half of Fry & Laurie, the bumbling higher up to Blackadder or the ever scowling Dr. Greg House, this man already impresses the world. Somehow he has managed to do it again using that fantastic genre of music, blues. A collection of songs in the New Orleans style of blues that often can be overshadowed by the country and rock variants, Laurie has taken his own musical talent, fused it with legends in the industry from producers to musicians to singers (Tom Jones? Oh yeah) and crafted something that is everything I want from a blues album. He jokes, he acts and now he sings. You don't have to be down to listen to these blues.


Semisonic - Another band that I was fully aware of but never got around to giving them the full attention of someone who is forever flitting from subject to subject. The soundtrack to the film 10 Things I Hate About You introduced me the song F.N.T. and the joy that came with it. Some time later (years!) I managed to get a hold of the album Feeling Strangely Fine that includes the hit track Secret Smile. 90's music always did sound good to me. This is an album I can put on at almost any time. Mellow tracks, energetic tracks, feel good tracks, this is Semisonic at their best. While not for everyone, I still say give them a chance, for you might just find a track that sticks with you.


That's all from me folks!

NOTE: Please don't sue me. I'm a poor little writer with a slightly used blog and some fuzzy hair.

Who?

What kind of home is a bonnie blue box?
The home of a man as cunning as a fox.
Stolen, purloined, pilfered and thieved.
The other lords, well, they were quite peeved.
His stories and feats are hard to swallow,
But hot on his heels danger does follow.
That lonely man, that wandering god.
That one who dies and gets a new bod.
Who is his name. Or is it Smith?
To be honest and fair he's almost a myth.
As mad as a hatter and slave to no clocks,
That marvelous man and his bonnie blue box.



It's simple. But then so am I. It's also 2am. But then so am I...okay maybe I should go to sleep now.

UnPosts: Innuendo or In-your-end-o?

Blogger has just updated it's interface. Why does this matter to you readers? Well I'll tell you. In my study of the new quirks and clickables it contains, I found one that allows me to view my posts in a list. Handy. But surprisingly the list contains posts that were never posted, mysterious texts that exist as a sort of ghost writing, UnPosts. Things I had written and through some computer trickery, or my own stupidity, were lost to cyberspace. These drafts are now mine to peruse once more! And it is within these UnPosts that I discovered this little piece of writing. It cuts off mid-sentence so as to leave me even more confused about my own comings and goings than I already am. Feel free to complete it in your mind (now that is lazy writing). Enjoy!



"I don't know whether or not it's an issue with my brain, but my urge to make everyday tasks and chores sound seedy/dirty has struck again. I think it's just a way to amuse myself while I'm at work or engaging in any task that allows my thoughts to wander and get lost somewhere. Some little joke to give rise to that mischievous little snigger and grin that you never quite grow out of from the heady days of playground frolics. My inane musings aside, I couldn't help but find the idea of my dual-posts last week in one day giggle worthy;

"I just blogged all over the internet. Twice."

It tickles me. I was tickled. What being "blogged" on actually entails is probably best left to the rest of the dirty minds out there in Web-land. My immaturity is getting the best of me. And you know what? Good! I'm 23 years of age and I still find the word penis funny. Heh. Penis.
In fact, at the risk of this being read by any family members (so so sorry), I'm going to pour some more seedy jokes into this blog. Until its waters run muddy and no one can drink of it without going away with that schoolboy smirk on their faces. You'll thank me in time.

"School: Off to go into some rooms to be thoroughly educated over and over  for hours by older men and women." (Make sure to emphasise the overs when said aloud)

"You'd want some of this pasta bake. You'd be all 'Oh pasta bake you look so good! I want to put you in my mouth. I want you inside me!' and the pasta bake would be like 'Yeah baby, but you gotta get me hot first'."

It's when I get..."