And so it came to pass that the Bengal Curry House (St James St, Walthamstow) were unable to seat 5 of us last night due to a large party of badly dressed, mouth breathers. We backtracked to Khans (also St James St, Walthamstow) where we got the last table. We always walk straight past Khans whenever curry beckons as it’s quite new to the block. Plus it doesn’t have lots of red velvet banquettes, chandeliers and murals of tea pickers so therefore always seemed ‘fake’. Khans proved to be a very refreshing change. Lot’s of blond wood, geometric modern art on the walls and new dishes on the menu that tickled our fancies. Sitting round the table with me and Darren (Darren and Dave 2001-) were Tom (Tom and Dave, 1985-1995), Lucio (Lucio and Dave, 1996-1999) and Martin (Darren and Martin, 1993-2000). A warm glow came over me (nothing to do with the chilli-chicken dish) as I looked around at everyone chatting, drinking and eating and I thought to myself "I love these people and I love my life with them". A kind of corny moment but one which made me feel good.
Tom stumped up for the bill which was nice. He’s in town for the weekend from Zurich so lock up your sons (actually, lock up their Dads too, just to be on the safe side).
At the local dump of a gay bar later that evening Crystal Waide attempted to entertain the masses but failed miserably. What a dump.
I’m off to Northumberland tomorrow on a big fast train. Haven’t seen my family for a few months so thought I better stick my head round the door. Then on Wednesday I’m traveling from Newcastle to Blackpool for 2 nights to do some property research. Time for a 2nd home by the sea we think. Blackpool? How common! How very ‘us’!

I'd love to say that I wrote this but I can't. Mr TD has put into words my thoughts on TRUE LOVE and I thank him.
For Darren:

I believe in true love.
Not the idealised hearts-and-flowers romantic kind. I’m talking about true love. The stuff that’s based on trust, honesty and respect. The stuff that doesn’t have to struggle to fit into pre-conceived notions of what true love is. The slow-burning embers of long-term companionship, rather than the quickly consumed fires of delirious passion. Love that is freely given and freely received, in equal measure, so that it becomes entirely instinctive – second nature. Love that isn’t forever analysing itself and self-consciously declaring itself. Oh yes, I believe in all of that, to the bottom of my soul.

Oh, one more thing Mr TD: could you post all 49 MP3's again please just for a week so that I can download them all and put them onto a cd. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese! I really NEED to hear C-Bank - OneMore Shot again soon.

'24 Hour Party People', which we saw recently and loved, is shot on digital video. The footage is at once a miracle and an annoyance. Anything shot indoors looks pretty good. Anything shot under pink disco lights looks amazing. And anything shot outside, with real light, looks like pixellated garbage. But there are a lot of advantages to digital video here. For starters, the camera really moves. You're always on the dance floor with Tony Wilson; you swirl around the druggy immersion of the Hacienda; the real archival stuff, like the Sex Pistols footage, blends right in. I gotta say, I'm all for movies being made on digital video and released in cinemas. Digital video movies are getting better and cheaper all the time. I see no reason why in five years I shouldn't have access to the gear to make movies just as bad as the ones George Lucas makes.

The Vines are fucking useless.
There isn't any critique of what 'fashionable' folk are doing nowadays. People are genuinely worried about looking cool and trendy to the point where they are scared to say anything in case it's perceived as not being cool and trendy. That's why there isn't really any current dissent about anything to do with youth culture at the moment. Christ, even my Dad wants a pair of Gravis trainers. I disagree with all this so much that I'm happy to take the piss out of things I actually like just because nobody else will. It's important to question things at all levels and have a laugh about it at the same time (those 'Shoreditch Sucks Cocks' t-shirts were very unpopular, wonder why?).

Evisu means wanker in Japanese, apparently. There you go.

Chilly Sunday morning in East London, bath running, coffee cooking and bowels grumbling. Me and Darren gorra pick up Rob at 10am. We're off to Brick Lane and Shoreditch for a mosey round. What a bunch of cool fuckers we are.


A Shoreditch Twat.

The two day visit to Brighton with colleaugues was great. We bonded over spreadsheets, press strategies, fish 'n' chips and seagull shit. I managed to talk Daryl and Mick into riding the Crazy Mouse with me (that's not us above, though that is the Crazy Mouse). It looks like a fairly tame family coaster at the end of the pier with round cars painted in child friendly colours. However, this baby has a kick. The tight corners are taken at a fair lick and are about 80ft in the air hanging over the ocean. Then half way through the ride the cars start to spin freely making those sudden drops and tight corners very unpredictable but highly entertaining. (tip: ride before lunch!).

Off to Brighton tomorrow with work for a couple of days. Team building/morale boosting type of stuff. Bag 'o' shite! Still, better than going to work for two days. At least I get along with my colleagues and have a laugh with them and the sea air will do us all good. Back to normal on Thursday. Missing you already.........

Saturday morning, cup of tea, Marlboro menthol, McAlmont and Butler on the stereo, hot bath, bf blogging on his machine next to mine, supermarket shopping looming, warm chicken salad upcoming, Medal of Honour virtually completed, Bourne Identity watched (very good brainless fun), best friends in Amsterdam this weekend, London grey and chilly and calling out "come play with me". We'll see.

Yesterday I was sitting outside the building where I work enjoying a Marlboro Menthol. A pigeon walked past with a slice of cucumber stuck on its back. I laughed out loud and I swear he gave me a dirty look.

As I approach 40 like a bullet train and see my contemporaries worrying about middle age, grey hair, spare tires and their greedy longing for those lustful days of youth, I worry that I'm not worrying more. Is this because I still feel like I'm 21? Is it because I never really liked the 'company' of younger men? (yes yes, I know Darren is 4 years younger than me, stop interrupting). Or is it my staunch refusal to buy any nice furniture, curtains etc and behave like an 'adult' in our house? Whatever it is I hope it continues to keep me feeling like a randy 20 something with an obsession for rollercoasters and scooters and city holidays and punk rock and weird squigly electronica and French cinema and heaps of other stuff, forever.
While we're on the subject, this piece is really very good (thank you Swish). YOU WILL IDENTIFY.

The Canadian military is using a gay fitness show to train the troops. The Department of National Defence has purchased 26 episodes of "Urban Fitness." The series, which is made by Canada's PrideVision, the world's first gay TV network, has the motto: "Feeling fit. And doing it in style." The show will be shown by closed circuit broadcast to the troops in Europe and the Middle East. Whatever next? (answers in the comments box please)

(as Swish so eloquently said) In an autumnal mood, I read this(September 10th), and tears pricked my eyes. Thinking of BJ in NYC.

We watched 'Together' and 'Sur Mes Levres' on Saturday. A Swedish film and a French film. 'Together' was such a warm movie despite being set in Malmo in the winter. It made us laugh and cry and want to play football in the snow while listening to Abba. 'Sur Mes Levres' was a repeat viewing for us as it is so brilliant. It's the kind of thriller Hollywood would love to make but never will. Not a drop of dialogue is spilled or wasted. Expect to see the Hollywood remake in a couple of years with Julia Roberts trying desperately to be Emanuel Devos.

On Sunday we rose early, prepared a picnic, picked up our friend Martin at the station and then drove to Skegness in Lincolnshire. We had waited two months since the official opening of Jubilee Odyssey to ride it. All the early glitches have now been ironed out and it was running like clockwork (or 'like shit off a shovel' as my Dad would say).
We took a ride on the Millenium coaster first as we hadn't ridden that either. Nice, smooth and fast but not very exciting. Martin was very brave as he doesn't really like coasters or heights but still took the plunge. He was dizzy and a bit discombobulated after we got off the Millenium coaster so we waited a while before getting on Jubilee.
When we did though it was fantatstic. Very steep first drop of 170ft into the worlds largest vertical loop. Extreme G forces coming out of the loop and then into an enormous cobra roll. I won't bore you with any more technical stuff other than to say that it is a masterpiece of engineering. And bloody good fun.
We took a walk on the beach after leaving the coasters, then strolled round town, had dinner and left the seaside at dusk.


Darren and Martin with one of Millenium Coasters loops in the background


We parked the car, got out and this is what we saw - Jubilee Odyssey.


Me and Martin (I'm the one with his eyes shut). Darren did well and managed to capture both trains in the picture. 'Jubilee' leaving the station and 'Millenium' at the top of the first drop.

Why Six Feet Under?
Well, in 1665 the 'Black Death' (bubonic plague) killed 65,000 Londoners and so the Lord Mayor of olde Londinium created new 'rules' for disposing of the dead. Shallow burials were now 'out' and 'in' came these new fangled graves that were to be at least six feet deep. Since then this depth has been the standard.
Also round about this time fleas and body lice were rampant and so most people shaved their body hair. The upper classes were not happy with their new bald pubic look and so the merkin was invented, a triangle of 'real' fur that they stuck 'down there' to hide their embarrassment. As if a stick on fanny wig isn't embarrassing enough. 100 years later the word was adopted by soldiers to describe the mop that they used to clean out their canons.

Darren has found a great way to keep that 'special place' squeaky clean. Every bathroom should have some.

We went to see Insomnia last night. Very good. Nice scenery. I won't bore you with my thoughts or a mini-review. Two very sexy supporting actors. See above.

It turned into a Friday night retail frenzy. A simple visit to HMV on Oxford street resulted in a serious dent to my bank balance. Shoulda known, never learn, what a sucker. I always fall under the spell in these 'multi-entertainment' shops, I'm obviously drawn to the bright lights and pure oxygen that they pump into the shop to keep everyone alert and excited. Part of the problem was arriving before Darren had finished work. He would have kept my manic shopping in check. But I had an hour to kill so I picked up a shopping basket and started browsing. Before you can say "three cd's for 20 quid" that basket was full.
Upstairs in the DVD department, away from the insanity of the CD sale, I took them all out and hid them behind a box set of 'Only Fools and Horses'. I kept the two cd's that I actually wanted in the basket (neither of them in the sale). Very proud of myself. So, if you find the first six Clash albums while looking for volume 8 of Only Fools and Horses in HMV on Oxford Street then do me a favour and get 'em for me (pay you back, honest).
The next problem was the DVD selection. Too much to choose from. Which is his fault as he's sort of responsible for what's on those racks. Anyway, I fled up and down the aisles shovelling movies into my basket. I was putting stuff in there that I'd seen before, stuff I'd missed at the movies, stuff I'd heard was good, stuff with stickers on proclaiming '5* in Empire magazine' and stuff which I already owned on VHS. I was a dream shopper, a shining example of how the sales techniques have been honed to perfection in order to trap folk like me on payday. I was stunned. Like a rabbit in the headlights.
In the relative calm of the games department I came to my senses and stared in horror at my bulging basket. Again I emptied everything out except what I actually wanted and hid the offending movies behind a display for the PlayStation 2 games console. Which is where I got into really big trouble.
The item I actually went to the shop to buy was a game called 'Medal of Honour' for my PC. I found it, read the box and put it in the basket. And thats when it all went a bit pear shaped. They switched on the 'homing beacon' and it began to draw me near. Nearer and nearer until I was standing in front of the PlayStation 2 games console listening to a voice in my head saying "you know you want one, just put it in the basket, what harm can it do?, it's payday, thats what you go to work for innit?" So I put it in the basket. I took out Medal of Honour and replaced it with the PlayStation 2 version. The damage was done. There was no other department to escape to where I could gather my thoughts and re-group my troops. They had me cornered. So I surrendered and handed over my basket to the smiling man behind the counter. "It's a fair cop guv" I muttered as I shot my wad (of money) into his hand.
So, we walked out of HMV with a big bag full of:

A SonyPlaystation 2 games console,
'Medal of Honour',
An 8mb memory card,
'Harry He's Here to Help' on DVD,
'Together' on DVD,
'Biggie and Tupac' on DVD,
'A Rush Of Blood To The Head' by Coldplay on CD,
'Bring it Back' by McAlmont and Butler on CD.

I've been like a dog with two cocks all weekend. The PS2 machine is excellent and 'Medal of Honour' is stunning. The machine is in the bedroom as it's also a DVD player so we were able to watch this on Friday night before lights out!