‹ 31.7.01 / 0 comment(s) ›
Weekend wrap-up: Friday night was spent in a pizza and beer blobfest with the Scooby gang watching the outcome of Big Brother II - justice was done this year (as opposed to last year's shenanigan's) and Queen Brian reigns supreme. God bless him and all who sail in him. Of course, we had to conduct our own nocturnal Orwellian investigation (it was Twom's idea, honest guv).
Saturday saw the crew trek down to watch Swordfish which "[l]ooks like the result of a nasty explosion down at the Plot Works" (Ebert). True, it was kind of muddled but was reasonably entertaining and included the best explosion I think I've ever seen (stay away from those ball bearings kiddies). Post-movie barbeque action was then conducted in East Lahndin with Andy and David and a few other suspects: heat + wine + little sleep the night before = tired me.
As for Sunday, hiding from the sun and cleaning were the orders of the day, right across the Big Blogger house. 'Twas all good.
‹ 31.7.01
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ickle.org: Able to leap tall electrons in a single bound.
‹ 27.7.01
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After another stomach expanding feed of Japanese this evening (this time at Satsuma with soon-to-be-homeward-bound Angela) I started thinking - what would be the five best tasting things in the world?
- Wasabi and soy sauce, mixed.
- Eleven secret herbs and spices, mixed.
- Strawberries.
- Ice-cold beer.
- Chocolate.
‹ 27.7.01 / 0 comment(s) ›
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Times must be getting tougher for ex-Spice Girls ... Baby Spice seems to have acquired a new day job.
‹ 27.7.01
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Bank becomes trendy wine bar.
‹ 27.7.01
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Diary room chair? £5100. Brian's Bed? £670. Orange blanket? £275. Flogging off ropey memorabilia for charidee? Priceless.
‹ 26.7.01
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"Japanese Cheese": My entry to the design pool at threadless.com (inspiration by Robyn and Paul!).
‹ 26.7.01
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I asked Producer John, just back from Cornwall, if they had any game hens. "Gay men?" came the reply. Honestly, people hear what they want to hear these days.
‹ 26.7.01
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A most enjoyable dinner was consumed last night with Andy and Sarah at the Picadilly Benihana (check out that animated gif ... yee-hah!). Teppanyakitastico! It's relatively expensive there but Sarah had a 50% discount card which lightened the financial load considerably. Our stomachs were however not lightened, by any stretch of the imagination: "want ... to ... move ... but ... can't ..." was the general sentiment as we rolled out the doors at a quarter to eleven. Holiday plans to Spain were also discussed - hurrah!
‹ 26.7.01
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Tom Coates accused of displaying flagrant homosexuality.
‹ 25.7.01
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Google says brainsluice is like ... well, brainsluice naturally. But not all sites are so self-similar. Check yours - you may be surprised.
‹ 25.7.01
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ickle.org: A thing of LCD beauty.
‹ 25.7.01
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Belated birthday wishes go out to Vaughan on the occasion of his thirtieth birthday - congratulations on the milestone old chap!
‹ 25.7.01
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Slack slack slack. Never mind.
Weekend shenanigans were a lot of fun - full-throated action on Friday at the "Sing A Long Sound Of Music" for Twom's 27th birthday (and yes, they even subtitled the yodelling!), and then to Hyde Park around lunchtime the following day for "Party In The Park", blog style (assorted pics here). Which meant that Destiny's Whores couldn't make it (awww ... perhaps they were still clomping around in heels in the upstairs flat?) but a whole lot of weblog types did and much fun was had in the sun - frisbees, food and oompa-loompas included - then a bit more drinking into the evening and finally coffee over at the new look Morgan Towers ... Mo even put on a fireworks display for us, the thoughtful old thing.
‹ 25.7.01
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ickle.org: Baby Kermits.
‹ 25.7.01
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More bloggin' best wishes ... this time to Paul who clocks another year off his twenties today. Have a good one, space station guy!
‹ 20.7.01
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ickle.org: Small blue marble.
‹ 20.7.01
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This time last week I was a bundle of anticipation: that Madge bird was in town for a couple of nights (something about a "Drowned World Tour"?) and of course it would be rude of me not to go and see her, now wouldn't it? The troops (including Iain and Scally) assembled at Borg HQ before departing for Earl's Court, a few more drinks (including an "Erotic Iced Tea" - a great Long Island Iced Tea variant with cranberry juice) and finally, the show itself.
So much hype surrounds this woman that you never know if your expectations will be properly met when finally get to see her in real time, so to speak. Your faithful correspondent is happy to report that they most definitely were ... and how! The show commenced with a "punk" set, all muscley biceps and spikey haired dancers and playing the guitar and stuff. I remember my mate (and large Madonna fan) Kyle commenting when Ray of Light came out in 1998 that the small amount of guitar featured there was something new for her - now it's definitely a strong part of her music (can you imagine "Don't Tell Me" without it?).
Mrs Ritchie's punk sensibilities then gave way to a Japanese set with a bizarre gnarled tree centre stage and four illuminated cocoons lowering from the roof (which contained burly, near-naked men, of course - you simply can't have a Madonna concert without them dahling!), all to the strains of "Paradise (Not For Me)". "Frozen" was next in the running order, with the much talked about mega-sleeved kimono looking fantastic and breaking apart near the end of the song into two pennants that were paraded around the stage. This segment also featured an intimate dance with a samurai warrior ("Nobody's Perfect") and a mildly disturbing video of her in Japanese costume with black eyes and a nose dripping with blood (which she proceeded to smear across her upper lip) capped with a perverse kind of grin. Good stuff.
Cowboy and Spanish sets soon followed, including a bizarre audience sing-a-long moment to a twangily-sung Western ditty, a mechanical bull ride, line-dancing, the tango, castanets, a Spanish version of "What It Feels Like For A Girl" and a whole load of other low-fat malarkey. "I Deserve It" was sung on a hay-baled armchair (contraband dak?), accompanied by her acoustic guitar and dedicated to hubby.
A lot of people have grumbled about the lack of older material on show but I can't say that detracted from the experience at all - she was there to tour her new material and she certainly did so, to maximum effect. "La Isla Bonita" made an appearance in the Spanish set and "Holiday" was the penultimate number (a great romp with Madonna in pimp fedora and fur coat (goldfish-containing platforms were absent however)). I was pleasantly surprised to hear renditions of "Human Nature" (my favourite video) and "Secret", which had a great video backdrop of assorted religious imagery from around the world (very Baraka-esque, Meg informs me). So no, there wasn't much of the back catalogue on display but there really wasn't a need for it. Capiche?
"Music" was the show's finale and it brought the house down really - a great choon to sum up the lady's work itself: another great montage of images on the screens presented her entire oeuvre, with randomly presented looks from both past and present and from the sublime to the truly ridiculous! She had a big smile on her face almost throughout the show which was great to see - she loved it, we loved it and I'd relive the whole thing again in an instant (an impressive instant, of course).
Related: reviews - Iain, Jonathan, Meg, random strangers; my pics from the show.
‹ 20.7.01
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Just before Christmas last, Meg and I concocted the Search Box Personality Test, opining that looking at your searches over an indeterminate length of time gave as much insight to your subconscious as any other quasi-psychological exam out there (I'm looking at you eMode). So without further ado here's my second SBPT, as conducted at Google. Be afraid, etc.
‹ 20.7.01
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Felicitations (and perhaps comiserations?) to Twom on the occasion of his twenty-ninth birthday ... one of the most interesting characters I've met since I arrived in these sun-kissed isles and I don't think that'll be changing anytime soon.
‹ 20.7.01
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Leading the free world: According to the Lovenstein Institute of Scranton, PA, the most ... erm ... "challenged" of presidents in the last fifty years is George W. Bush. Next from the bottom? His dear old dad.
‹ 20.7.01
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The Time 100 is a fascinating look at some of the most important movers and shakers of last century, including Albert Einstein, Harvey Milk and Lucille Ball.
‹ 20.7.01
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If I ever commence a new career as a jet-setting international cheerleader and all-round smiling type person, I'll know exactly where to go for ribbons and bows. I think that sort of information is useful to know. Just in case.
‹ 20.7.01
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ickle.org: Doe-eyed marauders.
‹ 20.7.01
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Jowahmee: Annoying validation-seeking contraction employed by game show contestants at least once in every sentence.
‹ 17.7.01
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Tom recounts the weekend's activities: Yes, grocery shopping on an empty stomach is a very dangerous thing (Him: "Oh, how about strawberries! I don't like them but others will"; Me: "But look, raspberries are on special and I like them - shall we get both?"; Him: "Okay, but I don't like those either"; Me: "How about blueberries then?"; Him: "Yes, I like those ... oh look, cherries!"). Shooting the evening breeze with raffish homosexuals is a good thing, especially when they bring dahling accents or lovely new boyfriends with them. Buffy is a good thing, Angel not so much. Long meandering walks along canals through north London are also good things. As is lunch with friends. And unexpected late-night callers.
‹ 17.7.01
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While being initially skeptical about ITV's entrapment show Ratrap, tonight it managed to shed a little light on last week's thievery incident: it appears that "shoulder surfing" is quite the common pastime for London's petty crooks. The set-up is simple. Criminals 'A' and 'B' stand behind a likely ATM-using punter, 'A' to the left and 'B' to the right. 'A' watches over the punter's shoulder and observes the PIN number, then drops a ten or twenty pound note at the punter's side and points out to the punter that they've dropped some money. As the victim bends down to retrieve it, 'B' reaches over and grabs the card and they abscond with the magic hunk of plastic.
If 'B' fails however, the pair often tail the victim and lift the card/wallet straight from their person - they've seen exactly where it's been placed, you see. So this jolly caper strikes me as one possible scenario for last Wednesday's events ... it's certainly feasible. Thus, there are two lessons to be learned here - watch your back at the cash machine and don't let anyone distract you, and cancel your card immediately after you notice it's been stolen (fortunately Andy had the cancellation hotline details on the back of his card so I could do it within minutes of it happening). Oh, and finally, don't carry your wallet in a stupidly accessible place like I did.
This has been a public service announcement on behalf of the Metropolitan Police.
‹ 17.7.01
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ickle.org: Boyish siblings.
‹ 17.7.01
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We live in a wonderful age ... the next time you're ripped off walking though Soho, use the Police's Non-Emergency Minor Crime Notification Service and tell them about it online. You'll feel marginally better if you do.
‹ 13.7.01
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Last night, I had my wallet nicked in Soho. Fuckers.
‹ 12.7.01
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"Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife ..." - oh be quiet you big forearmed oaf and take a few lessons from Sickboy.
‹ 12.7.01
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I have one. As does Clive Anderson. And Clarissa Clarissa Dickson Wright too. And bugger me dead with a pitchfork, so does Julio Iglesias. Which would come in rather handy given the number of illegitimate children he has reputedly fathered.
‹ 12.7.01
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There once was a lady from Tyneside ...
‹ 11.7.01
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ickle.org: Small fish, smaller fish, smallest cardboard box.
‹ 11.7.01
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Eeeee-vil BBC2! I was completely sucked in to watching the most cliché-ridden, campy, melodramatic, over-the-top movie which started just past midnight, starring that dopey bloke from Baywatch (as the schmoe), that nerdy chick from Beverly Hills 90210 (as the devoted wife) and some old-school soap actress (as the conniving femme fatale). It was so bad I couldn't turn away, like some sort of horrific motor accident or disasterous plastic surgery. And the name of this made-for-TV monstrosity? Seduced and Betrayed. I feel so ashamed.
‹ 11.7.01
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Monopoly Cards We'd Like To See: "You've won 2nd prize in a beauty contest. Next year, sleep with more judges."
‹ 11.7.01
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Ho ho ho ... come and sit on Picard's knee little children ...
‹ 10.7.01
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ickle.org: Beautiful bombsites.
‹ 10.7.01
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Note to self: Never ever wear your new favourite light-coloured shirt out to dinner, then order something with a sloppy tomato base, then slip the piece of pork you've just hacked off rapidly across the plate, causing InstantStaining™ sauce to fly all over the front of said shirt. Don't do it. Because it'd be embarrassing and annoying, okay?
‹ 10.7.01
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Not particularly polcorrect but it's source isn't known for that and fuck it, it gave me a laugh: Northern Irish, Serbs, Hutus Granted Homeland In West Bank.
‹ 7.7.01
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SeeThru's essential summer festival map (HTML; Flash). Includes such gems as:
"Enormously fat Wiccan high priestess dressed entirely in Batik-print hessian, married to a bloke who looks like Father Christmas (but with tattoos)."And, as always, there's Meg's handy D-I-Y guide ... wish we had a back yard."Solid gold VIP toilets, flushed every 30 seconds with Moet et Chandon."
"Feral children in Kidz Area constructing enormous Wicker Man."
‹ 7.7.01 / 0 comment(s) ›
ickle.org: "Ev'ryone a-round the world, come on!"
‹ 6.7.01
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"To settle an argument about Nature vs. Nurture, we went back in time, kidnapped Mother Theresa as an infant ..." [more]
‹ 5.7.01
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![[more]](http://www.plif.com/archive/wc273.gif){kind=link}
More random old photos ... the Beeb has a growing, reader-submitted collection including "Great Aunt Peggy's Wedding Day", "Pennington School Concert Group" and "The Oldest Harp Maker In The World?".
‹ 5.7.01
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You know I'd forgotten the joys of al fresco intoxication but a balmy (barmy?) night sipping cold crisp wine with the usual suspects plus an American guest proved the perfect antidote to another long sticky London day.
‹ 5.7.01
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Briansluice: Monty Python meets Irish trolley dolly (1.25MB).
‹ 5.7.01
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According to Google, this is the most beautiful place on earth: Lake Louise, Banff National Park, Canada.
‹ 5.7.01
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ickle.org: Adept at provocation.
‹ 4.7.01
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The Geek Timeline: "67 essential moments (good and bad) in geek history."
‹ 4.7.01
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Still more wishlist thanks ... this time to birthday twin Jen for the poignant The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat by Oliver Sacks, a great primer on the endless variety of problems the brain can undergo and the noble spirit of those people living with such conditions. Cheers a big bunch Jen!
‹ 3.7.01
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ickle.org: Body expanders.
‹ 3.7.01
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Well, whadda weekend. Birthday celebrations continued on Friday with evening drinks at Two Floors in Soho - somewhat more of a low-key affair than Thursday's efforts (understandably) but fun times were had nonetheless! I ventured into the woods with Michael afterwards for a quick drink at Manto, which was an absolute madhouse: the masses had truly gathered in force to warm up for the following day's festivities and the atmosphere was buzzing big style. I called it a night reasonably early, which was quite wise in retrospect, and braved the night bus home.
After reluctantly rousing myself on Saturday morning, I trotted down to the supermarket for some provisions, only to discover that the largest Sainsbury's in London was closed for refurbishment. So, naturally, everyone and his dog/baby/second cousin had gone the few blocks further down the road to Waitrose. A nightmare ensued. This was however was soon relieved over a bubbly brunch with a few of this year's Mardi Gras co-revellers (and the accumulation of further presents - the spoiling rotten of Dave continued well and truly past the original date itself!). We sallied forth to Finsbury Park around three o'clock, joining the tens of thousands that were in attendance already, and the seemingly equal number that filed in thereafter as we sat and waited for further friends to arrive.
The day gets a bit hazy after that - a quick stop at the main stage for some Abba and Human League ditties, then off to meet old chums Andy and David, then to the Pimm's bar (cue fond thievery-from-the-parents'-alcohol-cabinet memories), then for a groove and a catch-up with two of the Aussie girl triumvirate from last summer's Greece trip, then to the grassy knoll between the Trade tent and Popstarz stage to meet Tom, Nick and John and catch the remnants of EMF's set (more nostaglic flashbacks ... I still knew all the words, ten years on), then for a quick musak boogie on the way out, a mad dash for cigarettes and alcohol (without the need for ridiculous drinks tickets), then to Soho, drinking insipid cranberry-based alcopops, mingling with the crowd and making drunken calls to New Zealand. Phew. That's the Reader's Digest version anyway (documentary evidence here).
Sunday equalled sifting around the flat all day in my PJs, watching American Psycho (I was in a weird mood), eating pizza and playing Starcraft - recharging after a wonderful celebratory three days. It's good to be twenty-seven and right now, at least, it's good to be me.
‹ 3.7.01
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