Ainslie from Fame Academy.
Suggestion for CD cover.
(as seen on Popbitch)

The doors on our car were frozen shut tonight. Luckily, we weren't in the car at the time. Good job too or I'd have been forced to wear that spare pair of tights I carry round with me everywhere (I'm keeping them for when I go to my ice-dance class).
Tomorrow after work we drive up to Newcastle to spend 2 days with my Mum and Dad. Should be, errr, fun. Then from Newcastle to Skelmersdale to see Darrens parents. In the loft at my parents house are hundreds of NME's from the late 70's and 80's, Blue Peter annuals, Rupert The Bear annuals and vinyl. I'm gonna auction my youth on e-bay.

I nearly wet myself reading this. You are very very good. Keep it up please.

Jack was great. About Schmidt was brilliant. Just gorgeous writing. Not a word wasted. Alexander Payne could be the nearest thing the USA has to Mike Leigh (forget the fact that Alex had a writing credit on Jurassic Park 3).

The Bowie quiz at the Retro Bar was fun. Him, him and me got 16 and a half out of 20. We didn't win though. Some swots had 18!
Got drunk, said hello to him (quizmaster general and player of the vinyl), ate pie and chips then went to bed.

Here's a dogs arse to cheer you up:

Off to see 'About Schmidt' now. Then to the Retro Bar for the Bowie quiz. C ya all there.

Darren has asked me to point out that the two fellas in the photo below are not really us (though that is the dog track near our house).

"Are you local?"
New boy on the block. Welcome.

Thats me and 'im indoors. 'Gorn to the dorgs' at the world famous Walthamstow Greyhound Stadium (just round the corner from our pied a terre).

Inflamed foodpipe = pain. Stupid intestines.
Saw Gangs of New York. Mostly impressed.
Watched Y Tu Mama Tambien. Nice scenery.
Watched Training Day. Macy Gray looked great in those long, pink, cock-sucking finger nails.
He fed us coconut creams and lemon puffs on Saturday afternoon. The lemon puffs seemed to calm my agitated foodpipe.

'It's not the numbers of people you've loved, had sex with, kissed, or given broken hearts that matters. The test is the person in front of you, naked or clothed, in the moonlight, under a blanket, on the bus, passing in the mall, or holding your hand. If you've fucked a thousand is no concern, as long as you love one.'
Another boy who writes like an angel.

'8 Mile - a hip-hop version of The Karate Kid. Just not as enjoyable.'
Hahahahahahaha, you crack me up.

The dogs bollocks.
It's a rant par excellence. Awesome and spot on. Puts this bloggies business to bed hopefully (don't forget to check out the comments). Jhames, you are the wind beneath my wings.

I sold my plastic car last year. I called her Olive cos she had the hue of one. 800cc of pure plastic power. I could drive this beautiful 3 wheeler on my motorcycle licence and I did for 3 years. Friends refused to ride in it and even my dog Barry would lie as flat as he could on the back seat hiding. Then I passed my driving test last year and Olive was a goner. I miss her. But now I get to drive Darrens car which is a Mazda with 4 wheels. And let me tell you, it's virtually impossible to tip the Mazda over while doing 30mph round a roundabout.
Robbie Williams has just bought a gold limited edition Robin Reliant 3 wheeler. Apparently theres a waiting list these days of 6 months for a new one. Who'da thunk eh!

I love New Order. I would see them play whenever they toured. They weren't that good live but that was part of their charm. Ramshackle performances and a crowd obsessed by their heroes always made for a good night out. Bass player Peter Hook had fabulous hair in the 80's. Then in the mid 90's he grew it long with a ponytail. Drat!
Here's his hair at it's sexiest.

At last! A new sound for 92!
In 1992 I made a record. It was called Fuzz Bass and I went under the name of 'Broadmind' (as I have one). I used a nasty old 4 track recorder, a very cheap casio sampler and an old bass guitar with one string. Vinyl used in the making of this modern masterpiece included some Sly Stone, Donald Banks and Four Tops.

I sent my cassette to a factory and two weeks later they sent me 1000 7" flexi-discs. I gave the discs away at various London clubs and sent it to most of the music publications of the time. Response was good and Jay Strongman in Sky magazine had this to say (very kind) and id magazine did a piece on the DIY disco boom in which I was featured (a copy of which I don't have, so if any fashion queens out there have any old id's from 1992 I would love a scan of that article).

I found some old copies of the flexi-disc last weekend and set about tidying it up a bit through cool edit pro. I mp3'd it and put it here (it's called Fuzz Bass in case you'd forgotten). Go listen.

My Mum and Dad in 1960. Good grooming runs in the family.

A major publisher (Macmillan) has taken the potentially controversial step of releasing a childrens book about a same-sex relationship. 'Hello Sailor' is about Matt, a lighthouse keeper, who constantly watches the sea waiting for his 'friend' Sailor to return. Sailor does return and the pair spend the night together in the lighthouse before setting off together to sail around the world.

"You've come back!" he couldn't believe his eyes. "Hello, Sailor!"
"Did you think I'd forgotten you? I thought we were going to sail around the world together."
They turned round in a circle, to get a better look at one another. It was almost as if they were dancing. Sailor was back!

This is what Amazon say about the book: 'A moving story of hope and friendship. Matt lives in a lighthouse. He watches the sea every day... for ships and for his friend, Sailor. Matt is so forlorn that Sailor has gone away that he almost forgets his own birthday. His friends say Sailor will never come back, but Matt doesn't give up hope. And, after his birthday party is over, his patience is rewarded, when Sailor finally returns.'

Macmillan hope that, to many young readers, it will simply be a book about the power of friendship. A spokesman said "one of the things children must get used to is the intense nature of friendship".

I see Matt and Ben in the big screen version.

Saturday night at Duckie. A queue when we got there! What's that all about? Ah! So that's why. A Smiths night. On stage at midnight, for one night only, 'The Smiths, The Musical'. Oh how we laughed at the puppet 'Morrissey' as he climbed the baked-bean stalk to meet 'Mrs Spatcher' and oh how we cheered when he clambered back down the stalk, chopped it down with an axe and caused Mrs Spatcher to fall to her death. All set to Smiths songs played on a little Casio keyboard. Marvellous. Give this man his own West End show. Other top tunes of the evening? Peaches 'Set It Off' and N.E.R.D.'s 'Almost Over Now'. I danced.

"Hello? is that Mr Scorsese? Can you hear me? It's me, Leo! Top 'o' the mornin' to you! Oi've bin werkin on ma Oirish accent and oi think eyes got it nailed!"

Do you like my new boots?


These slippers came free with the boots. Handy, huh?

him in the white shirt. moody cow.

I surprised the big fella tonight with news of a trip next month. We're going to LA and Vegas for a week. Swingers.

I went to the Batcave a couple of times in 1982. I was working down a coal mine (I loved the Lee Dorsey song so much I used it as a career pointer) in Northumberland so could easily afford the train fare to London a couple of times every month. I liked the Batcave. It had a reputation as a goth hangout but really wasn't. Lot's of moody looking lads in tartan shirts and flat top's would bounce round the dancefloor to Bauhaus, Southern Death Cult and T Rex. The club was a refreshing reaction to the 'funk' that was swallowing up London nightlife at that time courtesy of the Wag and Blue Rondo A La Turk. I remember a US army jeep parked beside the bar, I remember Nick Cave getting his hair caught in the low hanging netting that passed as 'decor', I remember the house band 'Specimen' being really atrocious and I remember the singer from 'Alien Sex Fiend' scaring the shit out of me. Would you know what I meant if I said it was very gay in a straight sorta way? Thought not.

It was at a Batcave night at the Scala Cinema in Kings Cross in 1984 that I first let a fella suck my cock while watching Warhols 'Trash'. Things were never the same again.

OOOOOOOO! I zink I'm getting a tumour.....
'Gangs' was sold out so we stayed in. Not sulking but dancing. Lizzy Mercier Descloux, black vinyl, ZE Records, outa NYC, 1981. Now on cd via cool edit pro. I left the crackles in there though. Sounds better with them. More 'historical'. Makes me smile when she sings Peggy Lee's 'Fever' but instead of using the word 'fever' she sings 'tumour'.

I knew there was 'more' to Frodo and Sams friendship.
(Thanks to The Plastic Cat.)

I've been pimping my 'babies' to Bentkid for his radio project. All seventeen of 'em. I tinker with various pieces of music making software but mainly use e-jay (cos it's idiot proof) and Cool Edit Pro (which is far from idiot proof). Bass-lines and a driving rhythm are important to me because of my ongoing obsession with 1970's Jamaican dub. Not that any of my stuff is that good or that laid back (I need to take a shit load more drugs to create anything as funky as King Tubby). Most of the tracks are trippy electronica speeded up to make your feet tap. I like to play the piano, glockenspiel and sometimes the harpsichord and find that these acoustic 'hands on' instruments sound real nice when slithered into an electronic soundscape.
I used my Rolf Harris Stylophone on track 1 and it sounds quite spooky (in a Scooby Doo sorta way).
Track 2 is a guaranteed floor filler round our gaff.
Track 3 has some magnificent piano work (though I do say so myself) and will probably get nominated for a Grammy next year.
Track 4 has very intricate glockenspiel and xylophone melodies and a Dr Dre bass line.
Track 5 has bagpipes and a Moroder-esque beat.
Track 6 will play over the opening credits to a porno movie one day.
Track 7 is just beautiful and was written to be played in the waiting rooms of psychiatric hospitals.
Track 8 has an uber-deep bass line and was much fun to channel through an echo chamber. Gorra gorgeous melody too.
Track 9 is to be featured in the next series of Twin Peaks (I shall probably be asked to do a cameo in the diner).
Track 10 features the sound of my Mum knitting. She's a big fan of melodic drum 'n' bass so this one's for her.
Track 11 was a collaboration with DJ Shadow (yeah right). Nice harpsichord on it (which was a nightmare to sync up with the piano).
Track 12 sees me fondling something Spanish. Silly you! it's a guitar.
Track 13 is very crispy and has a nice Northern Soul rhythm and some lovely Hammond organs.
Track 14 is sooooo upbeat yet melancholy at the same time. Boy, can I tickle those ivories!
Track 15 is the soundtrack to that post-coital cigarette. I got that bass-line last time I was in the ghetto.
If Sly Stone were alive today and was invited to join Pearl Jam then they might sound like tracks 16 and 17. Also a bit like members of Parliament or Funkadelic joining Korn.
Listen or download them here. Remember kids, Electroclash is for 3 months not for life.

A question: Why can't there be a movie that tells a strong story, is full of humor and pathos, is packed with powerful performances, and features a lot of explicit sex — hard-ons, cum and all? Sex is a conversation. Why can't a scene with two people having real sex be as dramatically interesting as a scene with them talking in a restaurant? Why can't there be a film that makes you say, "I laughed, I cried, I came!"
The genius behind Hedwig is preparing his next project. Bravo.
Thankyou Jonno for the news.

It wasn't snowing when I left home on my motorbike. Ten minutes later and, approaching Islington, the clouds burst and the blizzard began. My journey proceeded at five miles an hour because using any brakes in this weather is lethal. An hour and twenty minutes after setting off for a forty minute drive I arrived. The sloped ramp into the underground garage at work was like a ski-jump, I (s)kid you not!

mmmmmmmmmmmm.........!
Daniel Day Lewis' tache in Gangs of New York.

One of the funniest comments I heard last year....
"I can't believe Gary Glitter has been deported to Bangkok from Cambodia for kiddie fiddling. That's like sending Elton to Interflora."
Remember when Mrs Merton asked Noddy Holder from Slade if he was Jealous because Gary Glitter has a nightclub named after him? Apparently she was walking past her sons bedroom when she heard one of his friends say "I'm gonna take you up the Gary Glitter later".
Non UK readers please note, 'Gary Glitter' is rhyming slang for the anus. Gary Glitter = shitter.

* Saw 'The Two Towers' on Friday night. Classy.
* Had dinner here beforehand. Also classy.
* Went to Duckie on Saturday night. Watched a beautiful lady pull offal from her vagina. Classy yet still punk rock.
* Watched 'Human Traffic' on Sunday morning. Why are films about drugs really boring? Non-class-A.

You can stick your new years resolutions up your arse, these are different.
Things I want to do this year that I didn't do last year:

* try crack
* sleep more
* grow my hair
* lose a stone
* stop watching telly
* carry a camera everywhere
* see my mum and dad more
* wear dirty jeans and old t-shirts more often
* sell my 'stuff'

Shouldn't be too hard. The smoking thing isn't in there, nor is the one about the gym. Fuck excercise.

Me and 'him indoors' first had sex two years ago today. Nothings been the same since. If I believed in God I would thank him for making me go to that dump of a local gay bar on new years eve 2000. Love you.

Demanding to be read daily.
This site is a presentation of the diaries of Samuel Pepys, the renowned 17th century diarist who lived in London, England. A new entry written by Pepys will be published each day, with the first appearing on 1st January 2003.
A stunning concept and a fascinating read.