Illness has hit many an Oxfordian this festive season, which may go some way to explaining why The Cellar is half empty tonight. It's a shame, The Walk Off were always at their best playing to a packed room full of people who were well up for dancing their genitals off. It is a real shame that their last ever gig is to a half size crowd, half of whom themselves are ill and not at their best. When I say half crowd, I mean that the cellar was only about half full, not that The Walk Off played a gig to a crowd of midgets and children. God, how good would it have been to get The Walk Off playing at a children's party?
Clanky Robo Gob Jobs is up first though. I can't really say anything I haven't said before in my last thing I wrote about a gig he played at. I will simply say this time, I didn't like it.
Party Shank are next. Whenever I saw Party Shank before, they were awesome. Happy Hardcore played using a variety of toys, it was good fun and caused good dance times. Now they seem to have decided they want to be taken seriously, so we're treated to a first 10 minutes that sounds like they've nicked as many samples from "Waters Of Nazareth" by Justice as they possibly can and rejigged and rearranged them into something very danceable but strangely empty. This is the feeling I get from the whole rest of their set too. Ultimately, for some reason I can't quite put my finger on, the whole is not as good as the sum of it's parts. Good samples, check. Pounding, very danceable drumbeats, check. Driving electro-basslines, check. All the ingredients for something I would normally be wetting myself with excitement for are here, and I should be over-excitedly telling you about my new favourite band, but there's something so strangely empty about it. Something slightly cynical. Like they've found the perfect formula and know exactly what buttons to push, but have somehow forgotten to add any sort of soul into it. A detached sense of this all just coming a little too easily to them. The fun is gone and you no longer have the great fun feel good party band that Party Shank were. They seem to have tapped right into what's "Cool" right now, and know exactly how to play it. I don't know, maybe it's one of those things I'll see again and totally change my mind, and I'm not even sure I've explained it properly, but there was just something that didn't work for me. It seemed a little too obvious. A little too calculated. A little too formulaic. A little too soulless. I dunno, I'm probably being too harsh here, but that's what I thought.
Then came The Walk Off for their last ever performance. I'll be honest, the start was a little shaky, it took a while to get going. Now whether that's their fault, or the fact that there's only half a crowd of people not necessarily feeling at their best is very much debatable. I would personally say it was due to the crowd, coz once people started to get into it, they played a good set. It's just a shame that night couldn't have been the massive dance party send off they deserved, but at this time and in these circumstances, at moments you can see they've kind of had enough of doing this. The second half of the performance was awesome though, a real reminder of why I loved them, and dance was had, and had hard. But this isn't the one I'll remember them for, and I don't think they'd want it that way either.
The first time I saw The Walk Off was in February, and I genuinely thought they were the best band I had ever seen (Until I saw Shit & Shine, but I won't go into that now). They played at the Zodiac at the Smash Disco night after A Silver Mount Zion had played a pretty special gig, and were superb then too. Then at the Cellar in June or July (I can't remember which) they played just as well as they had at the Zodiac. Those are the gigs I will remember them for. When they made my limbs try to force themselves off my body. When I got drenched in sweat and booze and didn't give a fuck about anything coz I was dancing to the most awesome noise I'd ever heard.
Oh yeah, and that last minute gig where no-one turned up and we all sat ion the stage and it was very surreal.
I will miss you The Walk Off.
Sunday 30 December 2007
Wednesday 26 December 2007
Bloody Fucking Christmas Innit.
Yes, it has been Christmas time. The most wonderful time of the year, some say. Do they know it is at all others say. Some say "Bah Humbug" while others don't stop bloody shouting about it. And how has Axl celebrated the birth of a possibly fictional character in a book written hundreds of years ago? By being ill, that's how.
Hmmm, that's interesting. Imagine if hundreds of years from now people find a copy of a Harry Potter book or something and interpret it as an ancient religious text. Maybe we've simply misunderstood. Maybe the Bible was just a best-seller of the 4th century and we've totally been sucked into some sort of bizarre cult that got way out of hand. Imagine if years from now people base entire civilisations on the teachings of a John Grisham novel. Now is one of the few times I wish I read more proper books, coz if I did I could really go to town with this idea and create an awesome and hilarious blog. Sadly the last actual book I read that wasn't a biography was at least 4 years ago if not longer, so that's that one down the pan. I could go into ideas of how modern civilisations could be based on comic strips, but the bible wasn't a comic book. I wonder if a comic book based on the bible would be any good? Depends who was doing it I suppose. I think it would take someone who wasn't actually a Christian to do a good job of it, someone who wouldn't get bogged down in sentimentality, or be too concerned about projecting the message of the bible. Someone who would just portray an un-biased version of the story itself. That might be interesting. I did come up with an idea for a computer game based on the bible, but I can't remember the details of it now. I'm being a bit useless today, aren't I? Well, fuck you, it's Christmas and I'm ill.
AND I had to work today. Which really sucked major horse testes. It was sooooooo dull. Dull as fuck. There was pretty much no point in us being open at all. But I don't want to talk about that.
Oh balls, I've forgotten what was gonna be next. Eventually I was gonna get on to Band Aid and other Christmas music, so I guess I'll do that now. Maybe I should start planning these blogs a bit better.
Anyway, Christmas working in HMV equals Christmas songs a-plenty. One of the major downsides to this for me is that my least favourite song of all time is a christmas song, and this means I undoubtedly have to listen to it several times every year. (Just in case you're wondering, the song I'm reffering to is "Stop The Cavalry" by Jona Lewie. I fucking hate that song so fucking much, it's probably bad for my health.) One song that you will innevitably hear is "Do They Know It's Christmas" by Band Aid, a song that gets more and more sickening and patronising every time you hear it. "Do they know it's Christmas time at all?" they ask, of an entire continent. AN ENTIRE FUCKING CONTINENT!! Yeah, coz every single person in Africa is a starving child aren't they? Well, ok maybe that's a little harsh to criticise the over simplification. No, hang on, it's not. Secondly, the areas they are actually singing about, why would they know it's Christmas? They're not a fucking Christian society! Amazingly enough, isolated areas that don't believe in a christian God and don't know the story of Jesus, don't know about Christmas! Shocking, I know. Even more bizarrely, people who are literally starving to death, may not exactly give a shit that the western world is celebrating the birth of a man we've only ever read about in a book.
"And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time..."
Well there are two things wrong with this. One, there are mountains in Africa which do have snowy peaks, so that is plain wrong. Two, the areas which Band Aid sing about do not have an appropriate eco-system to support a snowy climate. That in itself is not something to be all lovey-sentimental about. There won't be snow in Australia this Christmas time, but you don't see anyone writing a song about it, do you? No. So shut up. Take your sugary sentimentality and fuck off, write a decent song and then come back.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a total scrooge, there are some Christmas songs I like. Just not many. For some reason it seems that Christmas, especially recently, is not a subject matter that creates good songwriting. I say recently, but thinking about it, a lot of the old ones are just as bad, and I'm sorry but there is no such thing as a good christmas carol. They're all shit.
Ok, I've totally forgotten what else I was going to write. I'm actually really pissed off about this coz this keeps happening to me these days. I'm actually genuinely really angry. I'm gonna go to bed now all grumpy and shit. Fucks sake, sometimes I wonder why I even bother.
Hmmm, that's interesting. Imagine if hundreds of years from now people find a copy of a Harry Potter book or something and interpret it as an ancient religious text. Maybe we've simply misunderstood. Maybe the Bible was just a best-seller of the 4th century and we've totally been sucked into some sort of bizarre cult that got way out of hand. Imagine if years from now people base entire civilisations on the teachings of a John Grisham novel. Now is one of the few times I wish I read more proper books, coz if I did I could really go to town with this idea and create an awesome and hilarious blog. Sadly the last actual book I read that wasn't a biography was at least 4 years ago if not longer, so that's that one down the pan. I could go into ideas of how modern civilisations could be based on comic strips, but the bible wasn't a comic book. I wonder if a comic book based on the bible would be any good? Depends who was doing it I suppose. I think it would take someone who wasn't actually a Christian to do a good job of it, someone who wouldn't get bogged down in sentimentality, or be too concerned about projecting the message of the bible. Someone who would just portray an un-biased version of the story itself. That might be interesting. I did come up with an idea for a computer game based on the bible, but I can't remember the details of it now. I'm being a bit useless today, aren't I? Well, fuck you, it's Christmas and I'm ill.
AND I had to work today. Which really sucked major horse testes. It was sooooooo dull. Dull as fuck. There was pretty much no point in us being open at all. But I don't want to talk about that.
Oh balls, I've forgotten what was gonna be next. Eventually I was gonna get on to Band Aid and other Christmas music, so I guess I'll do that now. Maybe I should start planning these blogs a bit better.
Anyway, Christmas working in HMV equals Christmas songs a-plenty. One of the major downsides to this for me is that my least favourite song of all time is a christmas song, and this means I undoubtedly have to listen to it several times every year. (Just in case you're wondering, the song I'm reffering to is "Stop The Cavalry" by Jona Lewie. I fucking hate that song so fucking much, it's probably bad for my health.) One song that you will innevitably hear is "Do They Know It's Christmas" by Band Aid, a song that gets more and more sickening and patronising every time you hear it. "Do they know it's Christmas time at all?" they ask, of an entire continent. AN ENTIRE FUCKING CONTINENT!! Yeah, coz every single person in Africa is a starving child aren't they? Well, ok maybe that's a little harsh to criticise the over simplification. No, hang on, it's not. Secondly, the areas they are actually singing about, why would they know it's Christmas? They're not a fucking Christian society! Amazingly enough, isolated areas that don't believe in a christian God and don't know the story of Jesus, don't know about Christmas! Shocking, I know. Even more bizarrely, people who are literally starving to death, may not exactly give a shit that the western world is celebrating the birth of a man we've only ever read about in a book.
"And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time..."
Well there are two things wrong with this. One, there are mountains in Africa which do have snowy peaks, so that is plain wrong. Two, the areas which Band Aid sing about do not have an appropriate eco-system to support a snowy climate. That in itself is not something to be all lovey-sentimental about. There won't be snow in Australia this Christmas time, but you don't see anyone writing a song about it, do you? No. So shut up. Take your sugary sentimentality and fuck off, write a decent song and then come back.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a total scrooge, there are some Christmas songs I like. Just not many. For some reason it seems that Christmas, especially recently, is not a subject matter that creates good songwriting. I say recently, but thinking about it, a lot of the old ones are just as bad, and I'm sorry but there is no such thing as a good christmas carol. They're all shit.
Ok, I've totally forgotten what else I was going to write. I'm actually really pissed off about this coz this keeps happening to me these days. I'm actually genuinely really angry. I'm gonna go to bed now all grumpy and shit. Fucks sake, sometimes I wonder why I even bother.
Tuesday 18 December 2007
"Work Related Tiredness" and "Is There Too Much Noise?".
All the 7am starts are finally starting to warp my brain. I'm falling asleep at odd times, forgetting things all the time - like "Why did I literally just get up and go to the kitchen?", getting things mixed up - the other day I went to the fridge in the staffroom looking for my food and realised that I actually had thought it was my fridge at home, in general the tiredness is effecting every aspect of my brain. I came up with a song today. It doesn't have a title. It goes like this:
Take a leaf out of my book,
Put it in your book,
We'll have a mixed leaf book.
Prince Charles made love to a man,
But the man had a horses head.
I hate the sound of children singing.
I used to be one,
And I hated it then.
Yep, that's my masterpiece ladies and gentlemen! That's my number 1 hit! That's the one I'm gonna pitch to next years Eurovision & X-Factor song deciding people!
Gigs. Sunday & Monday.
Sunday equals the New Zealand band So So Modern at the Cellar who were fucking ace and made me want them in bed if only they were girl ladies. Seriously good stuff. But it did put a dampener on Monday, coz I just wasn't really in the mood for a noise gig. Especially when the opening act was Joey Chainsaw who I'd never seen before and everyone told me he was really good but it just reminded me of a drunk old man at a wedding barging onto the stage and grabbing the guitarist's guitar shouting "Look at me! I'm a fuckin' rock star!" and proceeding to make a total tit of himself strumming on it, coz of course he can't play, and drunkenly groaning out some half-arsed lyrics to a song that he's got wrong anyway. Anyway Joey Chainsaw didn't actually sound like that coz we weren't at a wedding, but if you took that drunk at a wedding guy to a noise gig and he did that, that's what it reminded me of. And why the fuck has everyone started sitting down at noise gigs?! Seriously, the noise scene is perilously close to becoming some sort of 60's beatnik hippy parody if it carries on like this.
Which would be a shame coz there is still a lot to be excited about in it. Egyptian Death play their first gig with a fairly typical but very good take on noise and then just when you're on the verge of thinking you may have heard this all before, tribal drumming saves the day!! A whole new persperctive is brought into play resulting in one of the most interesting noise performances I've seen for a while. Sure it sounds a lot like Black Dice, but I'm not complaining and if you do, you're a fool.
Star of the night though is undoubtedly Sorrel. A fragile female form takes to the stage looking like Wynonna Ryder and like she'd be much happier reading poetry ant home with some Shins album on the stereo or something. But this is Emily from PatelPretal, not some stereotypical self-harmer. Now, I was a little worried this would just sound like PatelPretal (Very good, but what would the point of doing a solo set be?), and yes, some of the method seems the same, but the instrumentation seems to be different and the sounds created are not those of PP. Whereas they use layered and treated vocals to create an incredibly warm sound that engulfs and captivates, Sorrel solo is a different prospect, instead seemingly building up a wall of sound of intricate and differing layers that simply mesmerise. I genuinely lose that feeling of "I'm not really in the mood for this" and am astounded by the sounds that surround me. I imagine this would be the kind of noise act that Phil Spector would produce, if only he hadn't gone so fucking mental.
Then came Telescopes. I was excited as last time I saw Telescopes they were incredible. Sure, I was virtually the only person in the room who thought that, but still, I thought they were amazing. Somewhere along the line though the innovation seems to have been replaced by extreme laziness and here comes that really-not-in-the-mood feeling back again, just for a few minutes before I fell asleep. When I woke up they were still playing and it was still boring and so I left. They may well have been invators, but the problem is they sound like they've only just discovered that you don't actually have to play chords, rather that the perfected lush wonder of that performance 3 or 4 years ago.
Maybe the noise scene is becoming a victim of it's own success and it just doesn't seem new, exciting or fresh anymore. Or it could just be coz these bollocksy work shifts I've been on have drained me somewhat and affected my moods recently.
Oh yeah, I really liked Munch Munch on Sunday aswell. 2 x synths + 2 x percussion = 1 good band. Not as good as So So Modern though. I can't seem to write about that at the moment though. I wrote about them before, and it's still all valid, so just read the previous post I wrote about them to find out how good I think they are.
Wow! I think I just managed all that without one mention of the word "Awesome"! I am very proud of myself.
Take a leaf out of my book,
Put it in your book,
We'll have a mixed leaf book.
Prince Charles made love to a man,
But the man had a horses head.
I hate the sound of children singing.
I used to be one,
And I hated it then.
Yep, that's my masterpiece ladies and gentlemen! That's my number 1 hit! That's the one I'm gonna pitch to next years Eurovision & X-Factor song deciding people!
Gigs. Sunday & Monday.
Sunday equals the New Zealand band So So Modern at the Cellar who were fucking ace and made me want them in bed if only they were girl ladies. Seriously good stuff. But it did put a dampener on Monday, coz I just wasn't really in the mood for a noise gig. Especially when the opening act was Joey Chainsaw who I'd never seen before and everyone told me he was really good but it just reminded me of a drunk old man at a wedding barging onto the stage and grabbing the guitarist's guitar shouting "Look at me! I'm a fuckin' rock star!" and proceeding to make a total tit of himself strumming on it, coz of course he can't play, and drunkenly groaning out some half-arsed lyrics to a song that he's got wrong anyway. Anyway Joey Chainsaw didn't actually sound like that coz we weren't at a wedding, but if you took that drunk at a wedding guy to a noise gig and he did that, that's what it reminded me of. And why the fuck has everyone started sitting down at noise gigs?! Seriously, the noise scene is perilously close to becoming some sort of 60's beatnik hippy parody if it carries on like this.
Which would be a shame coz there is still a lot to be excited about in it. Egyptian Death play their first gig with a fairly typical but very good take on noise and then just when you're on the verge of thinking you may have heard this all before, tribal drumming saves the day!! A whole new persperctive is brought into play resulting in one of the most interesting noise performances I've seen for a while. Sure it sounds a lot like Black Dice, but I'm not complaining and if you do, you're a fool.
Star of the night though is undoubtedly Sorrel. A fragile female form takes to the stage looking like Wynonna Ryder and like she'd be much happier reading poetry ant home with some Shins album on the stereo or something. But this is Emily from PatelPretal, not some stereotypical self-harmer. Now, I was a little worried this would just sound like PatelPretal (Very good, but what would the point of doing a solo set be?), and yes, some of the method seems the same, but the instrumentation seems to be different and the sounds created are not those of PP. Whereas they use layered and treated vocals to create an incredibly warm sound that engulfs and captivates, Sorrel solo is a different prospect, instead seemingly building up a wall of sound of intricate and differing layers that simply mesmerise. I genuinely lose that feeling of "I'm not really in the mood for this" and am astounded by the sounds that surround me. I imagine this would be the kind of noise act that Phil Spector would produce, if only he hadn't gone so fucking mental.
Then came Telescopes. I was excited as last time I saw Telescopes they were incredible. Sure, I was virtually the only person in the room who thought that, but still, I thought they were amazing. Somewhere along the line though the innovation seems to have been replaced by extreme laziness and here comes that really-not-in-the-mood feeling back again, just for a few minutes before I fell asleep. When I woke up they were still playing and it was still boring and so I left. They may well have been invators, but the problem is they sound like they've only just discovered that you don't actually have to play chords, rather that the perfected lush wonder of that performance 3 or 4 years ago.
Maybe the noise scene is becoming a victim of it's own success and it just doesn't seem new, exciting or fresh anymore. Or it could just be coz these bollocksy work shifts I've been on have drained me somewhat and affected my moods recently.
Oh yeah, I really liked Munch Munch on Sunday aswell. 2 x synths + 2 x percussion = 1 good band. Not as good as So So Modern though. I can't seem to write about that at the moment though. I wrote about them before, and it's still all valid, so just read the previous post I wrote about them to find out how good I think they are.
Wow! I think I just managed all that without one mention of the word "Awesome"! I am very proud of myself.
Friday 14 December 2007
Guest Blogger #16: Alice Bevan - "Alice's High Fidelity stylee songs of the year and all the emotional baggage they bring with them. Boohooo, wahhhh."
Righto, since this thing is about the songs of my ENTIRE year, I'm going to get chronological on your faces and start all the way back in January. Can I get a rewind?
The first notable song of 2007 that I can think of is 'we are your friends' by Justice vs Simian. Yes, yes, I know it was out in 2006, but when I returned to Sussex after the Christmas holidays and a few hours of 'argh I kind of really want to stay in Oxford' this was the song that made me think, 'hmmm, actually, ok, maybe it's alright here'. Granted I was drunk to the point that any song that I heard would've probably evoked equally 'YEAH!' emotions, but when this beauty came at my ears in the arc on the first night back I thought, 'WOW, they ARE my friends'. So, yeah.
The January to February period was all about that Killers album (have they already done another one? Surely not, but I heard they had? Maybe we were just really slow in getting the second one...?) and singing 'thisriveriswiiiiiiiiiiild' at any given opportunity with Carl. This was during our 'we're freshers, let's stay up until 6am every day for absolutely no reason and fail our courses' phase. Because of this sort of logic, we also spent FAR too much time at the arcade, so daytona song gets a mention. Yes, the daytona song is that song that the daytona driving game plays out when you put money in it... it kind of sounds like 'daddy owned herrrrrrr'. Good times.
March was when I started spending a lot of time wandering around Brighton on my own in the day being melancholy. Chkchkchk got a lot of plays for angry value, I was not a very happy bunny. Also, was this about the time that Britney Spears done her mental hair cutting trick? Because I remember being on a train in Portsmouth, looking at the paper and thinking 'WTFFFF' and I was listening to TV on the radio, and somehow this combination of events stuck in my brain like a very sticky brainy thing.
April. Some of you know what April means. April means: MOROCCO. AAAAAAAAARGH!!! For those of you who haven't heard my delightful tale before, I went to Morocco with my Sussex friends during our Easter holidays. We thought it would be fun. And it was... until I got dysentery. Mmmm, my fave. My notable album of April is Justin Timberlake's album, because that's what we were listening to as we drove through the desert for 4 hours and I vomited all over myself and everyone else. Yum. I gave the album to our taxi driver as some kind of poor compensation for sicking all over his van. He was pretty chuffed, that album is rude in every sense of the word. Driving into Marrakesh with the windows down and dancing to sexyback was also a highlight of the year; the combination of being out of the desert and back in a town combined with dancing deliriously combined with our taxi man bobbing his head to the music like a massive P.I.M.P was aweeesome.
May is when I decided to move back to Oxford. I was drunk for most of the month. I remember going to see the walkoff on Sara's birthday at smash disco and falling over a lot, and Sara's brilliantly ambiguous text message to the boy she didn't want to get off with: 'feel sick like 2 go home'. Oh Sara, punctuation is the way. Was this when foals did the cellar too? I dunno. If it was, that was an awesome night, I was yet to be involved in the Oxford scene to any proper extent and I spent the night dancing like a spaz with Blakers and Khai and Lewis and Sara and Tamara, and being uncool, and not caring.
June I moved back to Oxford, it was around this time that I remember sitting at the bar in the star and watching Axl and James dance to chromeo and thinking 'yeah, I was totally right to move back'. Chromeo solve all.
July to August was the HMV period. Working full-time for 'the man', or in my case, 'the Melissa'. Grrr. Lots of stacking dvds. July was all about Rihanna, mostly because July was the month that Oxford was absolutely shat on by the weather. Truck was cancelled, sob. So I thought it was funny whenever I was on an early shift to bang on 'umbrella' at 8 in the morning. We also had to listen to a lot of Now 67, which I now grudgingly love.
September: TRUUUUUCK! unfortunately I didn't like very many of the bands this year due to poorer than usual lineup/my own musical ignorance. Spent the entire weekend getting absolutely smashed and pining for Sara love. Without a doubt my set of the weekend was jonquil. We'd spent the duration of Sunday daytime sat up at camp young'uns drinking wine from a box and doing jonquil singsongs. The jonquil set was also my last one of the weekend, so we gathered our gang together and wedged in at the front and heckled our hearts out. Sorry jonquil. This set was also notable for awesome drunken comeback: 'Err,'can you tone down your singing please?' 'Err, can you tone down your outfit please?' (this was aimed at Michael Barry's short shorts).
October was birthday month. I remember very little about my birthday, apart from dancing to the Smiths on the stage at the cellar. It was also when I started working at the cellar (or was that September?) and we coined 'HEY! HEY! ROO! ROO! I like that you're Jewish!' So it stuck in my brain at ARF? that month when they played 'girlfriend' by Avril Lavigne and I yelled it at Roo as we cleaned up.
November I became obsessed with Kate Nash. Her lyrics are genius:
'And my friends were like "Whatever,
you'll find someone better,
his eyes are way too close together
and we never even liked him from the start.
And now he's with that tart'
November was also when I went to the WORST party of all time and had to sit and watch some weird men listening to the cribs while I wondered WHAT I was doing there. Eww. It was ok, Chelsey and I went and hid.
I won't do December, I'm hoping that someone more memorable is yet to happen, like, err, maybe BLOC PARTY AT ALEXANDRA PALACE OOOOOOMMMMMGGGGGGGGGZZZZZZZ.
I may be a tad excited.
And that was my musical year.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Merry kissmass
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Alice Bevan. All rights reserved.
The first notable song of 2007 that I can think of is 'we are your friends' by Justice vs Simian. Yes, yes, I know it was out in 2006, but when I returned to Sussex after the Christmas holidays and a few hours of 'argh I kind of really want to stay in Oxford' this was the song that made me think, 'hmmm, actually, ok, maybe it's alright here'. Granted I was drunk to the point that any song that I heard would've probably evoked equally 'YEAH!' emotions, but when this beauty came at my ears in the arc on the first night back I thought, 'WOW, they ARE my friends'. So, yeah.
The January to February period was all about that Killers album (have they already done another one? Surely not, but I heard they had? Maybe we were just really slow in getting the second one...?) and singing 'thisriveriswiiiiiiiiiiild' at any given opportunity with Carl. This was during our 'we're freshers, let's stay up until 6am every day for absolutely no reason and fail our courses' phase. Because of this sort of logic, we also spent FAR too much time at the arcade, so daytona song gets a mention. Yes, the daytona song is that song that the daytona driving game plays out when you put money in it... it kind of sounds like 'daddy owned herrrrrrr'. Good times.
March was when I started spending a lot of time wandering around Brighton on my own in the day being melancholy. Chkchkchk got a lot of plays for angry value, I was not a very happy bunny. Also, was this about the time that Britney Spears done her mental hair cutting trick? Because I remember being on a train in Portsmouth, looking at the paper and thinking 'WTFFFF' and I was listening to TV on the radio, and somehow this combination of events stuck in my brain like a very sticky brainy thing.
April. Some of you know what April means. April means: MOROCCO. AAAAAAAAARGH!!! For those of you who haven't heard my delightful tale before, I went to Morocco with my Sussex friends during our Easter holidays. We thought it would be fun. And it was... until I got dysentery. Mmmm, my fave. My notable album of April is Justin Timberlake's album, because that's what we were listening to as we drove through the desert for 4 hours and I vomited all over myself and everyone else. Yum. I gave the album to our taxi driver as some kind of poor compensation for sicking all over his van. He was pretty chuffed, that album is rude in every sense of the word. Driving into Marrakesh with the windows down and dancing to sexyback was also a highlight of the year; the combination of being out of the desert and back in a town combined with dancing deliriously combined with our taxi man bobbing his head to the music like a massive P.I.M.P was aweeesome.
May is when I decided to move back to Oxford. I was drunk for most of the month. I remember going to see the walkoff on Sara's birthday at smash disco and falling over a lot, and Sara's brilliantly ambiguous text message to the boy she didn't want to get off with: 'feel sick like 2 go home'. Oh Sara, punctuation is the way. Was this when foals did the cellar too? I dunno. If it was, that was an awesome night, I was yet to be involved in the Oxford scene to any proper extent and I spent the night dancing like a spaz with Blakers and Khai and Lewis and Sara and Tamara, and being uncool, and not caring.
June I moved back to Oxford, it was around this time that I remember sitting at the bar in the star and watching Axl and James dance to chromeo and thinking 'yeah, I was totally right to move back'. Chromeo solve all.
July to August was the HMV period. Working full-time for 'the man', or in my case, 'the Melissa'. Grrr. Lots of stacking dvds. July was all about Rihanna, mostly because July was the month that Oxford was absolutely shat on by the weather. Truck was cancelled, sob. So I thought it was funny whenever I was on an early shift to bang on 'umbrella' at 8 in the morning. We also had to listen to a lot of Now 67, which I now grudgingly love.
September: TRUUUUUCK! unfortunately I didn't like very many of the bands this year due to poorer than usual lineup/my own musical ignorance. Spent the entire weekend getting absolutely smashed and pining for Sara love. Without a doubt my set of the weekend was jonquil. We'd spent the duration of Sunday daytime sat up at camp young'uns drinking wine from a box and doing jonquil singsongs. The jonquil set was also my last one of the weekend, so we gathered our gang together and wedged in at the front and heckled our hearts out. Sorry jonquil. This set was also notable for awesome drunken comeback: 'Err,'can you tone down your singing please?' 'Err, can you tone down your outfit please?' (this was aimed at Michael Barry's short shorts).
October was birthday month. I remember very little about my birthday, apart from dancing to the Smiths on the stage at the cellar. It was also when I started working at the cellar (or was that September?) and we coined 'HEY! HEY! ROO! ROO! I like that you're Jewish!' So it stuck in my brain at ARF? that month when they played 'girlfriend' by Avril Lavigne and I yelled it at Roo as we cleaned up.
November I became obsessed with Kate Nash. Her lyrics are genius:
'And my friends were like "Whatever,
you'll find someone better,
his eyes are way too close together
and we never even liked him from the start.
And now he's with that tart'
November was also when I went to the WORST party of all time and had to sit and watch some weird men listening to the cribs while I wondered WHAT I was doing there. Eww. It was ok, Chelsey and I went and hid.
I won't do December, I'm hoping that someone more memorable is yet to happen, like, err, maybe BLOC PARTY AT ALEXANDRA PALACE OOOOOOMMMMMGGGGGGGGGZZZZZZZ.
I may be a tad excited.
And that was my musical year.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Merry kissmass
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Alice Bevan. All rights reserved.
Wednesday 12 December 2007
Catch Up.
Okay, so It's been a while since I've been properly in on this blog, but here I am to make things right again. I was gonna do about 5 seperate posts today, but instead decided I'm just gonna write one bloody big one and to hell with structural narative and all that stuff I'm supposed to care about in the efforts of making a good read.
So yeah, sorry I haven't been around properly for a while. You know what it's like when you buy a new girlfriend tho. Take it home, open the box, get all the parts laid out on the floor, get intimidated by the huge book of instructions, then after a few hours work it out and put it all together only to find that when you've finished, you've done something wrong, or glued something the wrong way round. She's in the reapair shop at the moment, hopefully getting fixed tho the repairmen are being a bit vague as to when I'll get her back, as they may have to ship her off to their Paris branch for certain repair procedures.
Then when you do have them put together and working you forget how much time and phone credit of yours they use up, but you don't complain coz actually you don't care coz they're awesome and yer just explaining why you haven't seen people for a bit/haven't been to the pub for a while/haven't been regularly blogging recently.
Anyway, there've been some things that have caught my bloggers eye recently that I'm gonna share with you. Quick question, why do Nurofen taste so good? Do they line them with sugar so children will think they are candy and get hooked on painkillers?
So anyway, the Spice Girls reformed and all that blah blah tour sold out quicker than Jesus' second coming blah blah single only got to number 12 ha ha. No what I wanted to question was this. We've had to endure their old hits belted out at work what with the best of/singles collection being released. (Why do people call them best of's when mostly they are in fact just a collection of singles?) Anyway, whenever the song "Spice Up Your Life" comes on, I'm slightly shocked at how, without a flutter or second thought, they belt out the line:
"Yellow men in Timbuktu."
What?! Sorry, I'm getting on a bit, my memory doesn't always work properly, but was casual racism acceptable in 1997? Surely this is the kind of line that should've died in the mainstream years ago along with "Mind Your Language" and Spike Milligan's really rather racist impersonations and oh-so hilarious songs that say things like "Ying-tang-yiddle-ai-po". Why stop there Spice Girls, or whoever it is who writes your lyrics? Why not go the whole hog and have lines like "Niggers in the bronx", "Yids in Israel" or "Pakis at Mecca"?!? BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING UNACCEPTABLE, THAT'S WHY!!! TAKE YOUR FUCKING IGNORANT BULLSHIT AWAY FROM MY EARS AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ARSES YOU TWATS!!!
Talking of twats, I was wondering something about the female anatomy. You know how if you're a guy and you go for a piss and you think you've finished but there was still a little tiny dribble hanging on in there that only comes out once you've put yer cock back in yer underwear and done up yer flies and it goes in yer pants and sometimes dribbles down yer leg making you go "Oh, for fuck's sake..." and you feel a bit wrong until it dries up and eventually forget about it, or maybe it's been so bad you've had to get some loo roll and mop it up off yer leg and the inside of yer undies just so you don't feel quite so rank? Well, I was wondering if that ever hapens to women, or if it's purely just a man thing? I asked this in the staffroom the other day and no-one would answer me. I would look it up on google but I'm scared of what it may take me to. So yeah, ladies, wee dribbles, do you get them too?
You know in the film "Men In Black" when the alien in that guys head is dying and he tells Will Smith that "The galaxy is on Orion's Belt" and it turns out Orion is the name of him or his mates cat? Did it never actually occur to the scriptwriters and filmmakers that it's attached to his fucking collar, NOT his belt?! Coz, and I don't now if you know this or not Hollywood, but CATS DON'T WEAR FUCKING BELTS!! Morons. "Oh, but that way it wouldn't sound quite so romantic and we wouldn't have had our conveniently misleading plot twist and..." SHUT UP!! DON'T BE SO STUPID AND LAZY AND COME UP WITH SOMETHING ORIGINAL FOR A CHANGE!!
Just for the record, I like the film "Men In Black". I think it's funny and well made and good and Will Smith & Tommy Lee Jones are a good double and Linda Fiorentino is dead sexy like. Oooooh she is tho, isn't she. Yes.
Anyway, back to lyrics. That absolute ladies man Shane Ward has had his new album out recently. You know, he won that X-Factor televisual mouth-farting contest a couple of years back. I can happily report that his particular brand of vocal gas is as awful as ever, if not worse. Now, I must admit I didn't hear his first album that much, but I've been force-fed his awfulness in all too regular doses at work over the last few weeks, and the lyrics, WOW they are utterly appaling. I was convinced that Katie Melua's album would win Axl's worst lyrics I've heard all year award, but now I'm not so sure. Shane Ward warbles some of the worst lyrics ever written.
First up we have "We've got that you hang up, no you hang up kind of love." Now, what does this say to you, coz to me it says "We have an unbelievably annoying and irritating love that is sterotypically soppy and vomit-inducing and would make you want to slap us if you ever saw us together." Oh, but wait, there's more. On whatever-the-fuck-the-song's-called-I-really-couldn't-give-a-giraffe's-testicles, he not only sings "If we had babies they would look like you." - pass me the industrial strength bucket please - but then later sings "If we had babies they would have your eyes, and..." now brace yourself for this one folks coz it's an absolute gem, "I would fall deeper seeing you give life."
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?????????? Is it just me or is that unbelievably odd? Is Shane Ward admitting to some sort of bizarre fetish here? Coz what he is essentially saying is that if he could watch you giving birth, he would fall more in love with you. Huhn?! Call me totally fucking mental, but seeing a woman screaming in unbearable pain as she tries to force something bigger than a rugby ball and far less aerodynamicaly designed thru her relatively very small vagina, probably tearing her pereneum in the process which is only going to add to the pain, doesn't exactly get my rocks off honey. Watching as a loved ones private parts become something resembling a car crash while people pull a midget victim of said crash out from them would not make me think "Wow, I never knew my feelings for another could run this deep. I now truly know the meaning of the word love, because I feel it like never before." It would make me wince. And squirm. And probably frightened for her safety. And almost certainly it would make me vomit.
That said tho, there is one Shane Ward line that tops all the others hands down. I didn't notice this one until Ham pointed it out to me, but yes, he really does sing it. Behold this line. You have probably never read anything quite like it. Here it is:
"Falling like chocolate stars in the sun."
I literally have absolutly no idea what to say about that.
I was gonna do a little review of the last Permanent Vacation gig, but Tim has already done one on his blog that is better than what I was going to write, so go and read his instead. Although, I will say I disagree with him about PNAK. I thought they were rubbish. Good drumming tho. Also, I had to leave before Elapse-O played coz I was virtually falling asleep on my feet. Read Tim's review on his blog. It's "The Process Of Weeding Out" in the "Axl Approved list there, or you could just click here: http://theprocessofweedingout.blogspot.com/
I was also gonna do some sort of review thing about the Boris & Sunn O))) gig I went to on monday, but I don't really have time now, and I have to get dressed before meeting people for a boozy drink. I still plan on doing it though.
I'm sure that's enough for now anyway. Have a nice day y'all! xx
So yeah, sorry I haven't been around properly for a while. You know what it's like when you buy a new girlfriend tho. Take it home, open the box, get all the parts laid out on the floor, get intimidated by the huge book of instructions, then after a few hours work it out and put it all together only to find that when you've finished, you've done something wrong, or glued something the wrong way round. She's in the reapair shop at the moment, hopefully getting fixed tho the repairmen are being a bit vague as to when I'll get her back, as they may have to ship her off to their Paris branch for certain repair procedures.
Then when you do have them put together and working you forget how much time and phone credit of yours they use up, but you don't complain coz actually you don't care coz they're awesome and yer just explaining why you haven't seen people for a bit/haven't been to the pub for a while/haven't been regularly blogging recently.
Anyway, there've been some things that have caught my bloggers eye recently that I'm gonna share with you. Quick question, why do Nurofen taste so good? Do they line them with sugar so children will think they are candy and get hooked on painkillers?
So anyway, the Spice Girls reformed and all that blah blah tour sold out quicker than Jesus' second coming blah blah single only got to number 12 ha ha. No what I wanted to question was this. We've had to endure their old hits belted out at work what with the best of/singles collection being released. (Why do people call them best of's when mostly they are in fact just a collection of singles?) Anyway, whenever the song "Spice Up Your Life" comes on, I'm slightly shocked at how, without a flutter or second thought, they belt out the line:
"Yellow men in Timbuktu."
What?! Sorry, I'm getting on a bit, my memory doesn't always work properly, but was casual racism acceptable in 1997? Surely this is the kind of line that should've died in the mainstream years ago along with "Mind Your Language" and Spike Milligan's really rather racist impersonations and oh-so hilarious songs that say things like "Ying-tang-yiddle-ai-po". Why stop there Spice Girls, or whoever it is who writes your lyrics? Why not go the whole hog and have lines like "Niggers in the bronx", "Yids in Israel" or "Pakis at Mecca"?!? BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING UNACCEPTABLE, THAT'S WHY!!! TAKE YOUR FUCKING IGNORANT BULLSHIT AWAY FROM MY EARS AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ARSES YOU TWATS!!!
Talking of twats, I was wondering something about the female anatomy. You know how if you're a guy and you go for a piss and you think you've finished but there was still a little tiny dribble hanging on in there that only comes out once you've put yer cock back in yer underwear and done up yer flies and it goes in yer pants and sometimes dribbles down yer leg making you go "Oh, for fuck's sake..." and you feel a bit wrong until it dries up and eventually forget about it, or maybe it's been so bad you've had to get some loo roll and mop it up off yer leg and the inside of yer undies just so you don't feel quite so rank? Well, I was wondering if that ever hapens to women, or if it's purely just a man thing? I asked this in the staffroom the other day and no-one would answer me. I would look it up on google but I'm scared of what it may take me to. So yeah, ladies, wee dribbles, do you get them too?
You know in the film "Men In Black" when the alien in that guys head is dying and he tells Will Smith that "The galaxy is on Orion's Belt" and it turns out Orion is the name of him or his mates cat? Did it never actually occur to the scriptwriters and filmmakers that it's attached to his fucking collar, NOT his belt?! Coz, and I don't now if you know this or not Hollywood, but CATS DON'T WEAR FUCKING BELTS!! Morons. "Oh, but that way it wouldn't sound quite so romantic and we wouldn't have had our conveniently misleading plot twist and..." SHUT UP!! DON'T BE SO STUPID AND LAZY AND COME UP WITH SOMETHING ORIGINAL FOR A CHANGE!!
Just for the record, I like the film "Men In Black". I think it's funny and well made and good and Will Smith & Tommy Lee Jones are a good double and Linda Fiorentino is dead sexy like. Oooooh she is tho, isn't she. Yes.
Anyway, back to lyrics. That absolute ladies man Shane Ward has had his new album out recently. You know, he won that X-Factor televisual mouth-farting contest a couple of years back. I can happily report that his particular brand of vocal gas is as awful as ever, if not worse. Now, I must admit I didn't hear his first album that much, but I've been force-fed his awfulness in all too regular doses at work over the last few weeks, and the lyrics, WOW they are utterly appaling. I was convinced that Katie Melua's album would win Axl's worst lyrics I've heard all year award, but now I'm not so sure. Shane Ward warbles some of the worst lyrics ever written.
First up we have "We've got that you hang up, no you hang up kind of love." Now, what does this say to you, coz to me it says "We have an unbelievably annoying and irritating love that is sterotypically soppy and vomit-inducing and would make you want to slap us if you ever saw us together." Oh, but wait, there's more. On whatever-the-fuck-the-song's-called-I-really-couldn't-give-a-giraffe's-testicles, he not only sings "If we had babies they would look like you." - pass me the industrial strength bucket please - but then later sings "If we had babies they would have your eyes, and..." now brace yourself for this one folks coz it's an absolute gem, "I would fall deeper seeing you give life."
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?????????? Is it just me or is that unbelievably odd? Is Shane Ward admitting to some sort of bizarre fetish here? Coz what he is essentially saying is that if he could watch you giving birth, he would fall more in love with you. Huhn?! Call me totally fucking mental, but seeing a woman screaming in unbearable pain as she tries to force something bigger than a rugby ball and far less aerodynamicaly designed thru her relatively very small vagina, probably tearing her pereneum in the process which is only going to add to the pain, doesn't exactly get my rocks off honey. Watching as a loved ones private parts become something resembling a car crash while people pull a midget victim of said crash out from them would not make me think "Wow, I never knew my feelings for another could run this deep. I now truly know the meaning of the word love, because I feel it like never before." It would make me wince. And squirm. And probably frightened for her safety. And almost certainly it would make me vomit.
That said tho, there is one Shane Ward line that tops all the others hands down. I didn't notice this one until Ham pointed it out to me, but yes, he really does sing it. Behold this line. You have probably never read anything quite like it. Here it is:
"Falling like chocolate stars in the sun."
I literally have absolutly no idea what to say about that.
I was gonna do a little review of the last Permanent Vacation gig, but Tim has already done one on his blog that is better than what I was going to write, so go and read his instead. Although, I will say I disagree with him about PNAK. I thought they were rubbish. Good drumming tho. Also, I had to leave before Elapse-O played coz I was virtually falling asleep on my feet. Read Tim's review on his blog. It's "The Process Of Weeding Out" in the "Axl Approved list there, or you could just click here: http://theprocessofweedingout.blogspot.com/
I was also gonna do some sort of review thing about the Boris & Sunn O))) gig I went to on monday, but I don't really have time now, and I have to get dressed before meeting people for a boozy drink. I still plan on doing it though.
I'm sure that's enough for now anyway. Have a nice day y'all! xx
Tuesday 11 December 2007
Guest Blogger #15: Jamie Ball - "The Randomness Chronicles."
So it's my turn for a guest blog, and hidden within will be my "chat show" that I've held on a few internet forums. More often than not when you read a Q+A you'll get this boring session where people ask lame boring questions no-one wants to know the answer to like "What do you do?" "Who are you" "Where were you the day that *insert major event* happened, and what did you feel" and I've never really been interested in shit like that.
No, that's what the Randomness Chronicles are there for, a mixture of non-standard questions to throw at non-standard people, and in this case my guest will be Mr Axl of the potato farm himself.
Rules are: 15 questions. Answers must be truthful, yet innovative and hopefully comic. That's it.
I'm guesting on the guest blog?!? Cool!
1. What's your favourite cheese?
Oooh, tricky one. I am partial to a nice Cambozola, but I wouldn't call it my favourite. I do love Haloumi, especially fried with leeks, yum yum yum! But then there's Ossau Irati which is a beautiful French cheese, I think it's made from ewe's milk. I do like a good stilton. But cheddar just goes with everything! It's perfect for virtually any occasion! Cheddar is blatantly the best cheese, but would I call it my favourite? I'll tell you what is nice. Take a whole Camembert, push some whole cloves of garlic in and bake it in the oven then eat it with some nice fresh bread. MMMMMM!!!! God, this question's difficult. I'll have to come back to it.
2. If you could open a funpark called "Axlland" then what three rides would you put in it, and why?
Waltzers are the only fairground/funpark ride I actually like, so I'd have one of them, sponsored by Jack Daniels, so I could get free JD. Secondly I'd have a ride based on the film INLAND EMPIRE where you'ld go thru a door and suddenly everything would go fucking mental and you'ld spend ages trying to work out how to get out but it would be really complicated and there would be singing prostitutes. Thirdly, the worlds largest ball pool. Coz they fucking rule!
3. Take any three people from real life...friends, celebrities, or whoever, and get them to work in your funpark. Who would you choose and why?
David Lynch to curate/oversee the INLAND EMPIRE ride. My mate Paul Heard coz I reckon it would be a right laugh running a place like that with him. Also I wouldn't get bored. And Scarlett Johansson. I'm pretty sure you can guess why.
4. If you could be any rockstar in the history of the world...who would it be?
I'd love to say someone like GG Allin, but I couldn't handle the eating my own shit part. Also he was totally fucked up. Justin Timberlake isn't really a rockstar I guess, but he is pretty much the coolest man alive, so I'm gonna say him.
5. The cocktail is the "Axl". What's in it?
HA HA!! I have already invented a cocktail called "The Axl"! It is a shooter made up of equal parts Tequilla and Benilyn Dry Coughs medicine with a squirts worth of lemonade. Slam it and down it. I came up with it when my desire to both get well and get drunk combined into a powerful boozy force. Tim famously threw up after having one. Tee-hee-hee!
6. How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
As long as it doesn't chuck my wood, I don't really care.
7. Phil Collins or Osama Bin Laden?
Phil Collins could teach me drums. But then he'd probably teach me by making me play along to his songs. And although Osama Bin Laden can't play any instruments, his mid 70's albums are pretty awesome. Hmmm, tricky one that. Can I choose to have them both as siamese twins joined at the penis?
8. Congratulations! You've got the chance to rename the Moon. What would you call it?
High School Musical 3. Then I'd send all those little sods from those bloody films up there to perish. Apart from Vanessa Hudgens. She can be my naughty slave.
9. What's the musical duet you'll never hear but really really want to?
Nelly Furtado & Sunn O)))
10. Your funpark got closed. Bastard council. What would you build on the old site?
What?! Fuckers! Right! I'm gonna build a giant fountain in the shape of an arse and connect it to the sewers so it sprays faeces all over your district! Fucking council wankers.
11. You've got a short meet and greet with Thom Yorke. So short you can only tell him three things. What would you tell him?
I'd tell him that he should buy the Holy Fuck album "LP" coz it's possibly even better than "In Rainbows", I'd tell him the next Radiohead album should be a metal album, and I'd tell him that it was very nice to meet him, coz I wouldn't wnat to be rude to the guy now would I.
12. Invent a new swearword for me!
Juss. A versatile word that can be used as wank or fuck, so you can tell someone to juss off, but also have a quick juss yerself before going out.
13. It's Oxford United's charity match for...er...someone, and you get to choose the team of 11 men to face them! What team would you put them against? (could be any club, collective, or imaginative thing that pops out of your head)
The Mighty Ducks. And Emilio Estevez. And the Ghostbusters.
14. Where and when do you wish you were born?
I'm quite happy where I am thanks.
15. If you could do one thing to Steven Seagal, what would it be?
Give him a big kiss coz I bet he's a homophobe.
Well, no arguments there. That wraps it up for another edition of the Randomness Chronicles. Till next time...
Intro, outro & questions written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Jamie Ball. Answers written by Mr Axl.
No, that's what the Randomness Chronicles are there for, a mixture of non-standard questions to throw at non-standard people, and in this case my guest will be Mr Axl of the potato farm himself.
Rules are: 15 questions. Answers must be truthful, yet innovative and hopefully comic. That's it.
I'm guesting on the guest blog?!? Cool!
1. What's your favourite cheese?
Oooh, tricky one. I am partial to a nice Cambozola, but I wouldn't call it my favourite. I do love Haloumi, especially fried with leeks, yum yum yum! But then there's Ossau Irati which is a beautiful French cheese, I think it's made from ewe's milk. I do like a good stilton. But cheddar just goes with everything! It's perfect for virtually any occasion! Cheddar is blatantly the best cheese, but would I call it my favourite? I'll tell you what is nice. Take a whole Camembert, push some whole cloves of garlic in and bake it in the oven then eat it with some nice fresh bread. MMMMMM!!!! God, this question's difficult. I'll have to come back to it.
2. If you could open a funpark called "Axlland" then what three rides would you put in it, and why?
Waltzers are the only fairground/funpark ride I actually like, so I'd have one of them, sponsored by Jack Daniels, so I could get free JD. Secondly I'd have a ride based on the film INLAND EMPIRE where you'ld go thru a door and suddenly everything would go fucking mental and you'ld spend ages trying to work out how to get out but it would be really complicated and there would be singing prostitutes. Thirdly, the worlds largest ball pool. Coz they fucking rule!
3. Take any three people from real life...friends, celebrities, or whoever, and get them to work in your funpark. Who would you choose and why?
David Lynch to curate/oversee the INLAND EMPIRE ride. My mate Paul Heard coz I reckon it would be a right laugh running a place like that with him. Also I wouldn't get bored. And Scarlett Johansson. I'm pretty sure you can guess why.
4. If you could be any rockstar in the history of the world...who would it be?
I'd love to say someone like GG Allin, but I couldn't handle the eating my own shit part. Also he was totally fucked up. Justin Timberlake isn't really a rockstar I guess, but he is pretty much the coolest man alive, so I'm gonna say him.
5. The cocktail is the "Axl". What's in it?
HA HA!! I have already invented a cocktail called "The Axl"! It is a shooter made up of equal parts Tequilla and Benilyn Dry Coughs medicine with a squirts worth of lemonade. Slam it and down it. I came up with it when my desire to both get well and get drunk combined into a powerful boozy force. Tim famously threw up after having one. Tee-hee-hee!
6. How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
As long as it doesn't chuck my wood, I don't really care.
7. Phil Collins or Osama Bin Laden?
Phil Collins could teach me drums. But then he'd probably teach me by making me play along to his songs. And although Osama Bin Laden can't play any instruments, his mid 70's albums are pretty awesome. Hmmm, tricky one that. Can I choose to have them both as siamese twins joined at the penis?
8. Congratulations! You've got the chance to rename the Moon. What would you call it?
High School Musical 3. Then I'd send all those little sods from those bloody films up there to perish. Apart from Vanessa Hudgens. She can be my naughty slave.
9. What's the musical duet you'll never hear but really really want to?
Nelly Furtado & Sunn O)))
10. Your funpark got closed. Bastard council. What would you build on the old site?
What?! Fuckers! Right! I'm gonna build a giant fountain in the shape of an arse and connect it to the sewers so it sprays faeces all over your district! Fucking council wankers.
11. You've got a short meet and greet with Thom Yorke. So short you can only tell him three things. What would you tell him?
I'd tell him that he should buy the Holy Fuck album "LP" coz it's possibly even better than "In Rainbows", I'd tell him the next Radiohead album should be a metal album, and I'd tell him that it was very nice to meet him, coz I wouldn't wnat to be rude to the guy now would I.
12. Invent a new swearword for me!
Juss. A versatile word that can be used as wank or fuck, so you can tell someone to juss off, but also have a quick juss yerself before going out.
13. It's Oxford United's charity match for...er...someone, and you get to choose the team of 11 men to face them! What team would you put them against? (could be any club, collective, or imaginative thing that pops out of your head)
The Mighty Ducks. And Emilio Estevez. And the Ghostbusters.
14. Where and when do you wish you were born?
I'm quite happy where I am thanks.
15. If you could do one thing to Steven Seagal, what would it be?
Give him a big kiss coz I bet he's a homophobe.
Well, no arguments there. That wraps it up for another edition of the Randomness Chronicles. Till next time...
Intro, outro & questions written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Jamie Ball. Answers written by Mr Axl.
Friday 7 December 2007
Guest Blogger #14: Hannah Connelly - "I Want To Feel Included."
(i wrote this on the first day) why wasn't i invited to write a goddamn guest blog, you knob hole? what you don't think im literate or something? i'm gonna write one anyway. cos im bored and i want sympathy cos my kidneys fell out and no one reads myblog cos I DONT HAVE ONE cos im not a saddo. instead i have 3 myspace accounts facebook and laura ashley dresses in myebay (27 items currently).
im gonna mention laura ashley, in case a mr darcy reads it and thinks 'oh she's quirky, and slightly unhinged, and emotionally unstable, i will leave- but look she wears laura ashley- i will invite her to shoot things on horseback on my giant plot of private land where we will have romances (but i will bring a blanket as she is allergic to grass) and a pig farm and butlers to look for laura ashley on ebay for her and she will be very satisfied with my large knowledge (wink wink)'
(i wrote this a few days later) so my kidneys fell out this week. and i went to hospital and they didn't fob me off with the flu so i didn't have to call them cocksuckers and scream and drool in pain on the hospital floor again. my kidneys fell out and i watched an entire series of house in one day, ate a bunch of bananas and two pieces of toast in 5 days, my kidneys fell out and i considered buying this dress:
now, what does that say to you?
last nite was my first out since being on antibiotics. i saw stornoway, who i really like. i am hoping brian from stornoway will ask me to do a duet with him. if i promise not to wear the above mentioned dress. i wonder if he reads axls blog. i also need him to tell me how to get a gig at the big chill house.
(the following week)
so do you know whats annoying about being a girl? one day when you have a 1950's body and you have to put on dresses over your head. cos they don't fit over your hips. or the ones that do don't go in at the waist. when did i get a weird old school shape, i was practically boyshaped in high school. like waify boy. it's really annoying especially when i am wearing glasses and have my hair done, cos it gets all ruined. i really hate that.
(the next day) do you know whats awesome about being a girl? looking like a 1950's thing in dresses instead of looking like a boy in dresses. c'est la vie.
my computer has a teddy bears head glued to it. and a foot. it used to have 2 hands and two feet and now it has a foot and a head. where is it's tail?
i have a fantasy where i give richard branson the Heimlich manoeuvre and then he gives me a trust fund and decides he would also like to adopt me and be my real dad. i even get new teeth. but i dont tell anyone im rich. so they aren't weird with me, you know? except they can prolly tell cos i have a HUGE bathroom and a whole room for a closet, and someone else does my dishes (who isn't my boyfriend).
this boy my sister used to date is drunk and sending ME messages cos he is in a fight with her or something. i think he's using predictive text without looking at it:
boy:Your rises isn't a vern nice sermon
me: what?
boy: ruined. she has
me: that doesn't make any sense
him: i would have done anything for .heir, but she gates me and i've lost her
me: ::stops texting adds to blog::
as a drug and alcohol counsellor i will leave you with some advice.
a- if you are drinking or drunk at y our computer, by yourself tonite reading this blog AGAIN cos you have NOTHING better to do and you forgot you already read it yesterday, you may possibly have an alcohol problem
b- do not use cocaine in your anus, it will destroy the mucous membranes and that damage can be irreversible leading you more susceptible to all kinds of infections, especially blood borne viruses.
c- please do NOT inject gel caps, they will congeal and you will abscess and possibly lose fingers or an arm.
(today) i have reread this and now i know why axl didn't ask me for it.
grrrrr.
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Hannah Connelly. All rights reserved. Hannah Connelly is a member of the band The Vatican Cellars, who can be found here: http://www.myspace.com/thevaticancellars
im gonna mention laura ashley, in case a mr darcy reads it and thinks 'oh she's quirky, and slightly unhinged, and emotionally unstable, i will leave- but look she wears laura ashley- i will invite her to shoot things on horseback on my giant plot of private land where we will have romances (but i will bring a blanket as she is allergic to grass) and a pig farm and butlers to look for laura ashley on ebay for her and she will be very satisfied with my large knowledge (wink wink)'
(i wrote this a few days later) so my kidneys fell out this week. and i went to hospital and they didn't fob me off with the flu so i didn't have to call them cocksuckers and scream and drool in pain on the hospital floor again. my kidneys fell out and i watched an entire series of house in one day, ate a bunch of bananas and two pieces of toast in 5 days, my kidneys fell out and i considered buying this dress:
now, what does that say to you?
last nite was my first out since being on antibiotics. i saw stornoway, who i really like. i am hoping brian from stornoway will ask me to do a duet with him. if i promise not to wear the above mentioned dress. i wonder if he reads axls blog. i also need him to tell me how to get a gig at the big chill house.
(the following week)
so do you know whats annoying about being a girl? one day when you have a 1950's body and you have to put on dresses over your head. cos they don't fit over your hips. or the ones that do don't go in at the waist. when did i get a weird old school shape, i was practically boyshaped in high school. like waify boy. it's really annoying especially when i am wearing glasses and have my hair done, cos it gets all ruined. i really hate that.
(the next day) do you know whats awesome about being a girl? looking like a 1950's thing in dresses instead of looking like a boy in dresses. c'est la vie.
my computer has a teddy bears head glued to it. and a foot. it used to have 2 hands and two feet and now it has a foot and a head. where is it's tail?
i have a fantasy where i give richard branson the Heimlich manoeuvre and then he gives me a trust fund and decides he would also like to adopt me and be my real dad. i even get new teeth. but i dont tell anyone im rich. so they aren't weird with me, you know? except they can prolly tell cos i have a HUGE bathroom and a whole room for a closet, and someone else does my dishes (who isn't my boyfriend).
this boy my sister used to date is drunk and sending ME messages cos he is in a fight with her or something. i think he's using predictive text without looking at it:
boy:Your rises isn't a vern nice sermon
me: what?
boy: ruined. she has
me: that doesn't make any sense
him: i would have done anything for .heir, but she gates me and i've lost her
me: ::stops texting adds to blog::
as a drug and alcohol counsellor i will leave you with some advice.
a- if you are drinking or drunk at y our computer, by yourself tonite reading this blog AGAIN cos you have NOTHING better to do and you forgot you already read it yesterday, you may possibly have an alcohol problem
b- do not use cocaine in your anus, it will destroy the mucous membranes and that damage can be irreversible leading you more susceptible to all kinds of infections, especially blood borne viruses.
c- please do NOT inject gel caps, they will congeal and you will abscess and possibly lose fingers or an arm.
(today) i have reread this and now i know why axl didn't ask me for it.
grrrrr.
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Hannah Connelly. All rights reserved. Hannah Connelly is a member of the band The Vatican Cellars, who can be found here: http://www.myspace.com/thevaticancellars
Sunday 2 December 2007
Kiss My Species.
Yeah, so recently I went to a tree planting memorial service, where this particular burial site plant trees next to the buried as kind of a living headstone. It's a really cool idea. Anyway, I'm not gonna talk about that, I'm gonna talk about one of the oddest listening experiences I've ever had which happened in the car on the way there It was so odd, I had to make notes, which is why I can remember it so well. Writing in a moving car is a lot trickier than it should be.
I was getting a lift up there with our mates Jon & Dulcie, and Dulcie's car only has a tape player in it, which is a bit knackered. Anyway, she put a tape in of Air's "Moon Safari" album, but the knackered tape player was playing it too slowly, and the volume was too quiet for me to properly hear it, so what happened was Air ended up sounding in the back of this car like an experimental dub album! It was awesome! "La Femme D'Argent" sounded like an extended dub workout, "Sexy Boy" meanwhile sounded like doom-metal influenced psychedelia! It was mental! "All I Need" became a minimal dub soundscape with Beth Hirsch sounding more like Liz Fraser crooning. Jon opened the window to have a fag, which added to the lack of hearing, and made "Kelly Watch The Stars" sound just like a collage of early digital dub sound effects. "Talisman" sounded like a Nightmares On Wax outtake from the "Smoker's Delight" album, while "Remember" just sounded like someone walking through a windy graveyard while a deep dub bassline could occasionaly be heard. It was awesome! "You Make It Easy" sounded like another Nightmares outtake, but by now the quality was so bad that Dulcie gave up and turned it off. NOOOOO!!! I want to know what the rest would've sounded like!
I want to listen to it again! Instead I just listened to the new Sunburned Hand Of The Man album which is a real disappointment. It's a Sunburned Hand... album that says "Envisioned, produced, mixed andedited by Kieran Hebden", how can it be anything but amazing?! Unfortunately the sound of half-arsed dicking around plagues this album, making it the exact opposite of what it should be.
I'm gonna have to listen to Holy Fuck again. That album ("LP") is fucking incredible.
Anyway, we drove into a small town/large village called Olney. Olney is wierd. Very wierd. People only wear blue and brown in Olney. Some of the young people in the pub later are wearing black, and one man in the street has a red coat. Other than that, blue and brwn and nothign else. I feel like people are staring at me in my green hoodie, the look in their eyes tells me I am a suspicious outsider. How dare I be wearing crazy colours! Off with my hand!
Anyway, Olney's public toilet looks like something out of a 1970's Tomorrow's World episode. Metal toilets with no seats, the seat shape instead being sort of etched into the metal itself. It was a cold day, I'm really glad I didn't need a poo, sitting on that would've been unbearable. The sink one of those box-on-a-wall jobbies where you put your hands in and there's the buttons for soap, water and drying. You know, the kind that everywhere seemed to have until everyone realised in about the mid-90's that they were SHIT!
Olney has places called things like "Sandwich Land". Really?! What, is that like Disney Land?! "Come one, come all! Ride the 'Bombastic BLT Death-Coaster'!! Dare you face the 'Cheese & Pickle Waltzers'?!"
Are there schools across the country with lunchtime coversations that go:
"Where you going on holiday to Carl?"
"We're going to France."
"GUTTEEEEEEEEEEEED!! Mum and Dad are taking me to fucking Sandwich Land, innit!!"
"Aw man, you lucky shit-wank! I wish my parents were rich like yours."
"Yeah, it's pretty fucking sweet being me."
"Boo-hoo-hoooooooooo! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! I wish I was dead!"
Or are we to believe that your shop is more than just a shop, that out back you have acres upon acres of free range sandwiches, frolicing as they please? A literal land of sandwiches where bread rules all? Don't call your shop "Sandwich Land", that's just stupid.
Olney also has things like a pub with a wood-chip ceiling, a building where you go in the front door and on your left is an antique dealers, while on your right is a dentist (?!?), and signs that say things like "This Flower Bed Is Sponsored By CAPTAIN CARPET." No joke, that was an actual sign. We never did find Captain Carpet. Me and Jon speculated that he might be a really rubbish superhero created by Marvel when they ran out of ideas one day and started coming up with rubbish superheroes. I can't remember what other ones we came up with now. I should've written them down.
Right. I have to get ready to go and get hideously twatted with the people I work with now. It's our Christmas party tonight, and things are gonna get real messy. Hopefully anyway.
I was getting a lift up there with our mates Jon & Dulcie, and Dulcie's car only has a tape player in it, which is a bit knackered. Anyway, she put a tape in of Air's "Moon Safari" album, but the knackered tape player was playing it too slowly, and the volume was too quiet for me to properly hear it, so what happened was Air ended up sounding in the back of this car like an experimental dub album! It was awesome! "La Femme D'Argent" sounded like an extended dub workout, "Sexy Boy" meanwhile sounded like doom-metal influenced psychedelia! It was mental! "All I Need" became a minimal dub soundscape with Beth Hirsch sounding more like Liz Fraser crooning. Jon opened the window to have a fag, which added to the lack of hearing, and made "Kelly Watch The Stars" sound just like a collage of early digital dub sound effects. "Talisman" sounded like a Nightmares On Wax outtake from the "Smoker's Delight" album, while "Remember" just sounded like someone walking through a windy graveyard while a deep dub bassline could occasionaly be heard. It was awesome! "You Make It Easy" sounded like another Nightmares outtake, but by now the quality was so bad that Dulcie gave up and turned it off. NOOOOO!!! I want to know what the rest would've sounded like!
I want to listen to it again! Instead I just listened to the new Sunburned Hand Of The Man album which is a real disappointment. It's a Sunburned Hand... album that says "Envisioned, produced, mixed andedited by Kieran Hebden", how can it be anything but amazing?! Unfortunately the sound of half-arsed dicking around plagues this album, making it the exact opposite of what it should be.
I'm gonna have to listen to Holy Fuck again. That album ("LP") is fucking incredible.
Anyway, we drove into a small town/large village called Olney. Olney is wierd. Very wierd. People only wear blue and brown in Olney. Some of the young people in the pub later are wearing black, and one man in the street has a red coat. Other than that, blue and brwn and nothign else. I feel like people are staring at me in my green hoodie, the look in their eyes tells me I am a suspicious outsider. How dare I be wearing crazy colours! Off with my hand!
Anyway, Olney's public toilet looks like something out of a 1970's Tomorrow's World episode. Metal toilets with no seats, the seat shape instead being sort of etched into the metal itself. It was a cold day, I'm really glad I didn't need a poo, sitting on that would've been unbearable. The sink one of those box-on-a-wall jobbies where you put your hands in and there's the buttons for soap, water and drying. You know, the kind that everywhere seemed to have until everyone realised in about the mid-90's that they were SHIT!
Olney has places called things like "Sandwich Land". Really?! What, is that like Disney Land?! "Come one, come all! Ride the 'Bombastic BLT Death-Coaster'!! Dare you face the 'Cheese & Pickle Waltzers'?!"
Are there schools across the country with lunchtime coversations that go:
"Where you going on holiday to Carl?"
"We're going to France."
"GUTTEEEEEEEEEEEED!! Mum and Dad are taking me to fucking Sandwich Land, innit!!"
"Aw man, you lucky shit-wank! I wish my parents were rich like yours."
"Yeah, it's pretty fucking sweet being me."
"Boo-hoo-hoooooooooo! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! I wish I was dead!"
Or are we to believe that your shop is more than just a shop, that out back you have acres upon acres of free range sandwiches, frolicing as they please? A literal land of sandwiches where bread rules all? Don't call your shop "Sandwich Land", that's just stupid.
Olney also has things like a pub with a wood-chip ceiling, a building where you go in the front door and on your left is an antique dealers, while on your right is a dentist (?!?), and signs that say things like "This Flower Bed Is Sponsored By CAPTAIN CARPET." No joke, that was an actual sign. We never did find Captain Carpet. Me and Jon speculated that he might be a really rubbish superhero created by Marvel when they ran out of ideas one day and started coming up with rubbish superheroes. I can't remember what other ones we came up with now. I should've written them down.
Right. I have to get ready to go and get hideously twatted with the people I work with now. It's our Christmas party tonight, and things are gonna get real messy. Hopefully anyway.
What's With All The New "Axl Approved's", Axl?
Yo. Those of you who pay any attention to the peripherals of my bloody blog will have noticed some new additions. With the Guest Blogging, I've kind of not been doing any myself recently, so haven't done the whole bigging up business, but I will do that now.
"Twist Turn Upsidedown" is the blog of my chums Jeff & Jon & their mate who I don't know, and is therefore less interesting. They have moved to Australia and the blog is about that. I can't wait for the Koala sex orgy post.
"The Process Of Weeding Out" is my mate Tim's blog. Tim has a lovely face and very good taste in music. So far his blog isn't about either of those things, but he's good with computers and that. I've forgotten what relevance that has now.
"Anya Moss' City" is the blog of a nameless friend who after doing a guest blog as Anya Moss, decided that anonymous blogging was the thing for them, and set up their own city. I think they were just trying to outdo my farm personally.
Garret retuens with his "The Blog Of Ineffable Exasperation" under the proviso that this time he is not a wussy no-writer and actually does it properly this time. If I have to take his blog off again there will be serious words exchanged between my face and his.
Last but not least, in fact probably most excitingly, is "My Cowardly Lion". A blog by my mate Blake. Blake is like Woody Harrelson in the film "Natural Born Killers", but if "Natural Born Killers" had been written by David Lynch instead. Still directed by Oliver Stone though. I was gonna say he'd probably chainsaw up Staz's mum, but I reckon Blake is a massive pussy around his girlfriend's parents and has more manners than a manner-tee. But then let's face it, that's what we're all like around our lovers mothers and fathers, right? It's like the golden rule or something. Never let your partner's parents see the real you. Always, always be the safe you. The nice you. The you that likes children and helps injured kittens. Not the you who's seen their daughter naked and does unspeakable things to her on a regular basis. The you that uses a napkin and asks to be excused from the table. Not the you who's going to give their laundry basket the smell of excitment sodden knickers.
Yes, I mean excitment, not excrement. I'm not into fecal games thankyou, and if I was, I certainly wouldn't do that at someone's parents house. Unless it was someone I didn't like or wanted to break up with, in which case that shit would be all over the fucking walls. Yeah, see how you like the dirty finger-painting of hatred!
Right, I'll be back to proper blogging soon.
"Twist Turn Upsidedown" is the blog of my chums Jeff & Jon & their mate who I don't know, and is therefore less interesting. They have moved to Australia and the blog is about that. I can't wait for the Koala sex orgy post.
"The Process Of Weeding Out" is my mate Tim's blog. Tim has a lovely face and very good taste in music. So far his blog isn't about either of those things, but he's good with computers and that. I've forgotten what relevance that has now.
"Anya Moss' City" is the blog of a nameless friend who after doing a guest blog as Anya Moss, decided that anonymous blogging was the thing for them, and set up their own city. I think they were just trying to outdo my farm personally.
Garret retuens with his "The Blog Of Ineffable Exasperation" under the proviso that this time he is not a wussy no-writer and actually does it properly this time. If I have to take his blog off again there will be serious words exchanged between my face and his.
Last but not least, in fact probably most excitingly, is "My Cowardly Lion". A blog by my mate Blake. Blake is like Woody Harrelson in the film "Natural Born Killers", but if "Natural Born Killers" had been written by David Lynch instead. Still directed by Oliver Stone though. I was gonna say he'd probably chainsaw up Staz's mum, but I reckon Blake is a massive pussy around his girlfriend's parents and has more manners than a manner-tee. But then let's face it, that's what we're all like around our lovers mothers and fathers, right? It's like the golden rule or something. Never let your partner's parents see the real you. Always, always be the safe you. The nice you. The you that likes children and helps injured kittens. Not the you who's seen their daughter naked and does unspeakable things to her on a regular basis. The you that uses a napkin and asks to be excused from the table. Not the you who's going to give their laundry basket the smell of excitment sodden knickers.
Yes, I mean excitment, not excrement. I'm not into fecal games thankyou, and if I was, I certainly wouldn't do that at someone's parents house. Unless it was someone I didn't like or wanted to break up with, in which case that shit would be all over the fucking walls. Yeah, see how you like the dirty finger-painting of hatred!
Right, I'll be back to proper blogging soon.
Friday 30 November 2007
Guest Blogger #13: Becky Craven - "The Other Room"
I first went there when I was seven. It always happened at night when I closed my eyes. And suddenly I would be there.
I close my eyes and I’m there, at the bottom of the stairs, in my pyjamas, looking up into the dark. The brick of the stairwell has eroded in places over the years and the moonlight is breaking through, dashes of blue-white collecting in the angles of the wooden spiral staircase. I reach out my hand and touch the wall but I quickly pull away. It’s damp and if the light permitted I’m pretty sure I’d see a violent shade of green smeared on my hand. I wipe my hand on my top and turn to look through the door, back into my bedroom. I can see the light from the landing striping its way along the floor and imagine my parents sleeping in the room below me. I can still feel the warmth radiating from my duvet. A sharp screeching returns my attention to the stairs; nightjars, birds with a call that resembles a woman crying out in fear and pain, fly metres from the roof of the house. Still, I’m not scared. Just excited. I know I shouldn’t be here, on these stairs and I know I shouldn’t climb up to the room either but I do every time.
I take my foot off the carpet and place it onto the first step, the rotten wood gives slightly under my weight, in some ways I’m not seven anymore. I climb higher still, the stairs seemingly endless, until I start to feel the difference. It’s warmer once you get nearer to the room. After a few more steps I put my hand out in front of me it makes contact with something solid. The door. I crouched down to open the door, it’s getting to be a squeeze these days and as I kneel down to crawl through, I know that this will be the last time I will be able to come here. My dismay registers only for a second because now I am inside.
I reach into the darkness for the candle. There isn’t much of it left, I’m not surprised, how many candles last for twelve years? My other hand goes in search of the lighter and seconds later I smile with my mouth and my eyes as I feel the cold metal rectangle. I warm it slightly in my hands before flicking the lid open and breathing in the scent of the petrol, I pull my thumb along the wheel but nothing happens, I try again but still nothing. I shut the lid and open it, then try again, nothing. No spark. I begin to panic. I know this is the last time, I want to see everything before I go. I need one last chance to remember it all. I mustn’t forget. I can’t begin to imagine what would happen if I did. I slump against the door, the eagerness turning quickly into frustration, tears, the thick feeling in my chest and my ragged breath catching on my tears every time. I must try to breath normally, mustn’t let it take over. I stare down at the blackness that is my hands, one still clutching the candle, the other; the lighter. Something snaps inside me and I flick the lid of the lighter once more, a new type of anger grips me and I roll the wheel repeatedly under my thumb, I can feel the skin blistering but I’m rewarded with a spark and then suddenly a flame, which wavers as I take it to meet the stub of wax and wick.
The room. I can see the room. I gaze round, nothing seems different but I know that once I have looked around I will notice new things, recent things that I have put here without my knowledge and things that others have left behind whilst passing through me. A sudden pain taps sharply on my thumb and I look down to see that I have been dripping burning wax onto my skin. I carefully place the candle inside the top one of the brandy bottles on the floor and take another look around. There are shelves filled with cardboard boxes and although I’ve never been able to look inside them, I know what would be there if I did. I walk across the room and look up and down the shelves. I spot an old pack of photographs and fall into the usual trap. I reach for them but they fall through my hands. I can’t pick them up, but I can still see them in my minds eye. This is what I do here. I look at every box and book and bag in this way, I can’t see inside but I almost test myself to see if I can remember what is there. Tonight it’s more important than ever because it is the last time I can come here. After this all these things will not be here anymore, I can’t hold on to them any longer, I’ve never been able to hold them physically but I can try to hold them mentally. There’s no way I can store these things here now. Since I can’t stop disappointing them and him I have to take all this out to make room for something else. Something I don’t want there but it’s already growing inside me, and yet, at the same time it’s shrinking me. Soon, in one way I will be seven again but not in the way that I am seven today or in the way that I was seven when I first came here. I will never be seven years old again and after tonight I can’t think like that anymore. So tonight I must try to commit as much of these things to memory as I can. Then I must find somewhere new to put them where they can’t be forgotten or shrunk. So this is what I am doing.
Singer sewing machine, airfix model plane, car pencil sharpener, Mr Men sing along record, fossils from Lyme, rocks from Yorkshire and the Lakes, shells from all over, brass ashtray and the cowrie shells. Hold them up to your ear and you can hear the sea. The baby things, the soft toys and dolls the boxes of paintings and exercise books and ladybird books. Photographs of parents and grandparents. The time I drew on a hot radiator with wax crayons. The day I pulled all the clothes out of my wardrobe. The week Mummy kept me off school so we could read The Lord of The Rings…..
The candle started to flicker so I got myself ready to leave. I can never come back here. I tested myself quickly, checking I knew what every box contained then I knelt down and opened the door to the stairs. I crawled backwards onto the stairs and watched the last few seconds of wick burn away, as I shut the door I saw the candlelight disappear. Things would be harder now. I have to hold onto all of these things until I find a place big enough to store them all. The problem is that I am shrinking.
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Becky Craven. All rights reserved.
I close my eyes and I’m there, at the bottom of the stairs, in my pyjamas, looking up into the dark. The brick of the stairwell has eroded in places over the years and the moonlight is breaking through, dashes of blue-white collecting in the angles of the wooden spiral staircase. I reach out my hand and touch the wall but I quickly pull away. It’s damp and if the light permitted I’m pretty sure I’d see a violent shade of green smeared on my hand. I wipe my hand on my top and turn to look through the door, back into my bedroom. I can see the light from the landing striping its way along the floor and imagine my parents sleeping in the room below me. I can still feel the warmth radiating from my duvet. A sharp screeching returns my attention to the stairs; nightjars, birds with a call that resembles a woman crying out in fear and pain, fly metres from the roof of the house. Still, I’m not scared. Just excited. I know I shouldn’t be here, on these stairs and I know I shouldn’t climb up to the room either but I do every time.
I take my foot off the carpet and place it onto the first step, the rotten wood gives slightly under my weight, in some ways I’m not seven anymore. I climb higher still, the stairs seemingly endless, until I start to feel the difference. It’s warmer once you get nearer to the room. After a few more steps I put my hand out in front of me it makes contact with something solid. The door. I crouched down to open the door, it’s getting to be a squeeze these days and as I kneel down to crawl through, I know that this will be the last time I will be able to come here. My dismay registers only for a second because now I am inside.
I reach into the darkness for the candle. There isn’t much of it left, I’m not surprised, how many candles last for twelve years? My other hand goes in search of the lighter and seconds later I smile with my mouth and my eyes as I feel the cold metal rectangle. I warm it slightly in my hands before flicking the lid open and breathing in the scent of the petrol, I pull my thumb along the wheel but nothing happens, I try again but still nothing. I shut the lid and open it, then try again, nothing. No spark. I begin to panic. I know this is the last time, I want to see everything before I go. I need one last chance to remember it all. I mustn’t forget. I can’t begin to imagine what would happen if I did. I slump against the door, the eagerness turning quickly into frustration, tears, the thick feeling in my chest and my ragged breath catching on my tears every time. I must try to breath normally, mustn’t let it take over. I stare down at the blackness that is my hands, one still clutching the candle, the other; the lighter. Something snaps inside me and I flick the lid of the lighter once more, a new type of anger grips me and I roll the wheel repeatedly under my thumb, I can feel the skin blistering but I’m rewarded with a spark and then suddenly a flame, which wavers as I take it to meet the stub of wax and wick.
The room. I can see the room. I gaze round, nothing seems different but I know that once I have looked around I will notice new things, recent things that I have put here without my knowledge and things that others have left behind whilst passing through me. A sudden pain taps sharply on my thumb and I look down to see that I have been dripping burning wax onto my skin. I carefully place the candle inside the top one of the brandy bottles on the floor and take another look around. There are shelves filled with cardboard boxes and although I’ve never been able to look inside them, I know what would be there if I did. I walk across the room and look up and down the shelves. I spot an old pack of photographs and fall into the usual trap. I reach for them but they fall through my hands. I can’t pick them up, but I can still see them in my minds eye. This is what I do here. I look at every box and book and bag in this way, I can’t see inside but I almost test myself to see if I can remember what is there. Tonight it’s more important than ever because it is the last time I can come here. After this all these things will not be here anymore, I can’t hold on to them any longer, I’ve never been able to hold them physically but I can try to hold them mentally. There’s no way I can store these things here now. Since I can’t stop disappointing them and him I have to take all this out to make room for something else. Something I don’t want there but it’s already growing inside me, and yet, at the same time it’s shrinking me. Soon, in one way I will be seven again but not in the way that I am seven today or in the way that I was seven when I first came here. I will never be seven years old again and after tonight I can’t think like that anymore. So tonight I must try to commit as much of these things to memory as I can. Then I must find somewhere new to put them where they can’t be forgotten or shrunk. So this is what I am doing.
Singer sewing machine, airfix model plane, car pencil sharpener, Mr Men sing along record, fossils from Lyme, rocks from Yorkshire and the Lakes, shells from all over, brass ashtray and the cowrie shells. Hold them up to your ear and you can hear the sea. The baby things, the soft toys and dolls the boxes of paintings and exercise books and ladybird books. Photographs of parents and grandparents. The time I drew on a hot radiator with wax crayons. The day I pulled all the clothes out of my wardrobe. The week Mummy kept me off school so we could read The Lord of The Rings…..
The candle started to flicker so I got myself ready to leave. I can never come back here. I tested myself quickly, checking I knew what every box contained then I knelt down and opened the door to the stairs. I crawled backwards onto the stairs and watched the last few seconds of wick burn away, as I shut the door I saw the candlelight disappear. Things would be harder now. I have to hold onto all of these things until I find a place big enough to store them all. The problem is that I am shrinking.
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Becky Craven. All rights reserved.
Wednesday 28 November 2007
Guest Blogger #12: Fat Chan - "Lazy Ass Blogger."
Hello all Fat Chan reporting for business after a hefty long leave of absence. I say hefty.......it was long enough to actually get Axl to delete my blog from his links as he feared my bodied had been ravaged by ne'erdowells and left me unable to perform my blogging duties, the truth while similar involved less ravaging and more being a lazy ass blogger who constantly forgets he has a fan base (so he likes to think) to attend to. So this guest blog is an unturndownable opportunity to get a post on the deity like blogspot of the potato farm and hopefully compell some followers to come witness my babblings for laughs or other purposes. And those that have been there before and want some more of the infuriation will be glad as I have much to vent.............been storing up for a good few months now.
So onwards.....to the blog......what the fuck do I write here? Everytime I read the potato farm I laugh hartily at the inward musings of Mr Axl and certainly miss his presence in my vicinity and thus pooing all over his potato farm with my rubbish brain thoughts is not something I wish to do, thus if you are all reading this then I have been found worthy and that gives me freedom to write whatever the bloody wank I want. I shall tell you about the night out in Camden I experienced. Saturday night I was due to meet my girlfriend in Camden with some fellow ex Oxford friends to see Bruises play at the Purple Turtle. I've never seen them yet but definately enjoy them (www.myspace.com/wakeupwithbruises), however I had work til 5 and despite getting straight on all the trains etc I managed to miss them play but I did get there eventually. Never been to Camden before and was much of what I expected............every person trying to make an individual statement with what they were wearing........but lo and behold they were wearing the same things as all their friends. Still coming out of the station to witness all possible fashion stereotypes in one street was certainly amusing. So upon my wanderings around Camden in hopes of finding the pub.....passing clubs, goth pubs and kebab shops ahoy I finally got there and met up with all. Then proceeded to try and catch up with the others for drink, a feat I found out I was never going to achieve. Dammit am I waffling again? I always do this, ok on to basic bullet points:
-the female lead of the band when I got to the purple turtle had the biggest guns (unfortunately I mean arms not tits) I have ever seen.
-my attractive friend Amy (g/f of Bruises guitarist) kept touching my very attractive girlfriend most of the night and I wasn't the least bit unhappy about the situation (Sorry Ben, but I can't help that lesbianism holds a certain interest for me.....I'm sure you understand).
-Amy fell over holding her friend James nearly knocking him unconcious.
-Playing 'Twat or Legend' is a great game.
-Met my friend Nathan who I haven't seen for too long, which was good because I wasn't drunk enough to finish the night when he turned up.
-Onions in a hot dog bun doesn't really classify as a vegetarian option from a hot dog stand, just say it's onions in a bun, OK!
-A cunt bounder at Koko (supposdly a hip Camden place to be) managed to fail to not let most of us in for free and then was a cunt about it when we decided to leave 'cos it looked shit.
-Snakebite is difficult for me to down.
-Jack Daniels is fucking disgusting, especially to down.
-I love punk rock/pop and I'm proud (i'm the peter pan of the music loving people).
-Wembley Park is a LONG way from Camden and the 'taxi driver' mostly deserved his large fee.
-I love London.
That is all, I feel I should cut things short I get carried away, I need to be more sucsinct and less waffley but then that goes against my belief of writing your thoughts as they come, no editing, it's not real dammit. Look forward to seeing y'all in the near present. Love you. BYES!!
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Fat Chan. All rights reserved. Fat Chan is the author of the recently reactivated blog "The Blog Of Ineffable Exasperation" which is now back up in the Axl Approved list or the adress is http://fatchansexasperation.blogspot.com/
Fat Chan may think his style is waffling and overlong, but that's exactly why we at the potato farm like his blog and wish he'd bloody write in it a bit more often. Hopefully he now will.
So onwards.....to the blog......what the fuck do I write here? Everytime I read the potato farm I laugh hartily at the inward musings of Mr Axl and certainly miss his presence in my vicinity and thus pooing all over his potato farm with my rubbish brain thoughts is not something I wish to do, thus if you are all reading this then I have been found worthy and that gives me freedom to write whatever the bloody wank I want. I shall tell you about the night out in Camden I experienced. Saturday night I was due to meet my girlfriend in Camden with some fellow ex Oxford friends to see Bruises play at the Purple Turtle. I've never seen them yet but definately enjoy them (www.myspace.com/wakeupwithbruises), however I had work til 5 and despite getting straight on all the trains etc I managed to miss them play but I did get there eventually. Never been to Camden before and was much of what I expected............every person trying to make an individual statement with what they were wearing........but lo and behold they were wearing the same things as all their friends. Still coming out of the station to witness all possible fashion stereotypes in one street was certainly amusing. So upon my wanderings around Camden in hopes of finding the pub.....passing clubs, goth pubs and kebab shops ahoy I finally got there and met up with all. Then proceeded to try and catch up with the others for drink, a feat I found out I was never going to achieve. Dammit am I waffling again? I always do this, ok on to basic bullet points:
-the female lead of the band when I got to the purple turtle had the biggest guns (unfortunately I mean arms not tits) I have ever seen.
-my attractive friend Amy (g/f of Bruises guitarist) kept touching my very attractive girlfriend most of the night and I wasn't the least bit unhappy about the situation (Sorry Ben, but I can't help that lesbianism holds a certain interest for me.....I'm sure you understand).
-Amy fell over holding her friend James nearly knocking him unconcious.
-Playing 'Twat or Legend' is a great game.
-Met my friend Nathan who I haven't seen for too long, which was good because I wasn't drunk enough to finish the night when he turned up.
-Onions in a hot dog bun doesn't really classify as a vegetarian option from a hot dog stand, just say it's onions in a bun, OK!
-A cunt bounder at Koko (supposdly a hip Camden place to be) managed to fail to not let most of us in for free and then was a cunt about it when we decided to leave 'cos it looked shit.
-Snakebite is difficult for me to down.
-Jack Daniels is fucking disgusting, especially to down.
-I love punk rock/pop and I'm proud (i'm the peter pan of the music loving people).
-Wembley Park is a LONG way from Camden and the 'taxi driver' mostly deserved his large fee.
-I love London.
That is all, I feel I should cut things short I get carried away, I need to be more sucsinct and less waffley but then that goes against my belief of writing your thoughts as they come, no editing, it's not real dammit. Look forward to seeing y'all in the near present. Love you. BYES!!
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Fat Chan. All rights reserved. Fat Chan is the author of the recently reactivated blog "The Blog Of Ineffable Exasperation" which is now back up in the Axl Approved list or the adress is http://fatchansexasperation.blogspot.com/
Fat Chan may think his style is waffling and overlong, but that's exactly why we at the potato farm like his blog and wish he'd bloody write in it a bit more often. Hopefully he now will.
Monday 26 November 2007
Something I love.
White middle/upper class male Oxford students rapping along to hip-hop.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tribute.
The other day I was picking a return at work - i.e. stock to be returned to the suppliers - when I saw in amoungst the music dvd's a live concert by The Complete Stone Roses.
Is it just me, or is this totally baffling?! A live dvd of a tribute band?! What the fuck?! Who's gonna buy that?! Seriously, who in their right mind would want it? Who thought it was a good idea to release it? What went on in the board meeting for that one?
"How can we make a few more bucks then guys?"
"I know, why don't we film that Stone Roses tribute band and put that out?"
"Fucking Hell, that's crazy enough to work!"
Surely the whole point of a tribute band is that it's a chance to see something or someone you wouldn't normally be able to. Did it not occur to anyone that you can by a dvd of the actual fucking Stone Roses in concert? Did they not realise this?
Mind you, maybe they think it's some sort of novel new idea, quirky enough to appeal to fans of the band. They obviously didn't learn the lesson taught to us by No Way Sis.
Remember No Way Sis? Remember them on Live & Kicking? Remember them being signed up for a 5 album deal? Remember their single totally flopping and never hearing from them ever again? I sure as shit do. I remember thinking to myself "This is really rubbish. What a stupid idea.", and I was a kid! How a grown adult mind could think that that's anything approaching a good idea is totally beyond me.
Yes, I'm sure seeing a good tribute band is very enjoyable, The Smiths Indeed played in Oxford at the weekend and from what I hear it was a good night, but really, would you really want to own anything by them? Wouldn't you surely just rather listen to the real thing? Wouldn't that actually be a lot better?
Of course it fucking would.
Leave the tribute bands where they belong. On the stage. Not in your home.
Is it just me, or is this totally baffling?! A live dvd of a tribute band?! What the fuck?! Who's gonna buy that?! Seriously, who in their right mind would want it? Who thought it was a good idea to release it? What went on in the board meeting for that one?
"How can we make a few more bucks then guys?"
"I know, why don't we film that Stone Roses tribute band and put that out?"
"Fucking Hell, that's crazy enough to work!"
Surely the whole point of a tribute band is that it's a chance to see something or someone you wouldn't normally be able to. Did it not occur to anyone that you can by a dvd of the actual fucking Stone Roses in concert? Did they not realise this?
Mind you, maybe they think it's some sort of novel new idea, quirky enough to appeal to fans of the band. They obviously didn't learn the lesson taught to us by No Way Sis.
Remember No Way Sis? Remember them on Live & Kicking? Remember them being signed up for a 5 album deal? Remember their single totally flopping and never hearing from them ever again? I sure as shit do. I remember thinking to myself "This is really rubbish. What a stupid idea.", and I was a kid! How a grown adult mind could think that that's anything approaching a good idea is totally beyond me.
Yes, I'm sure seeing a good tribute band is very enjoyable, The Smiths Indeed played in Oxford at the weekend and from what I hear it was a good night, but really, would you really want to own anything by them? Wouldn't you surely just rather listen to the real thing? Wouldn't that actually be a lot better?
Of course it fucking would.
Leave the tribute bands where they belong. On the stage. Not in your home.
Sunday 25 November 2007
I Reckon..
Arnold Schwarzenegger and Renee Zellweger should do a film together.
Anyone got any ideas for a title and/or a plot?
All I can think of is Bridget Jones' Terminator.
The tales of an unlucky in love woman in her early 30's being pursued by a futuristic robot whos sole goal is her assassination.
But I'm sure there's better.....
Anyone got any ideas for a title and/or a plot?
All I can think of is Bridget Jones' Terminator.
The tales of an unlucky in love woman in her early 30's being pursued by a futuristic robot whos sole goal is her assassination.
But I'm sure there's better.....
Saturday 24 November 2007
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!
Today is a very special day, for today marks the first year of the potato farm. A year of ups, downs and sideways glances. We're all gonna eat cake until we're sick. Then Clarence is gonna eat all our sick coz he's already drunk. It's gonna be gross.
Here's some sort of representation of what our party will be like:
Here's some sort of representation of what our party will be like:
EVERYONE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME......
Sunday 18 November 2007
Guest Blogger #11: Matt Lewis - "Axl's Moustache."
Written & illustrated by Matt Lewis. All Rights Reserved. Matt Lewis is the author of the blog "Good Natured Slacker" which is in the "Axl Approved" list or can be found here http://goodnaturedslacker.blogspot.com/
Matt Lewis is a fucking legend.
Friday 16 November 2007
Axl's Quick One.
Ok. I have about 5 minutes to write a blog before I go out for a booze with a girl and then other humans too.
I looked up a book on Amazon just now and the amount of people selling it for 1 penny was ridiculous! Seriously 1p + postage & packaging (of about 2.75)! Unbelievable. It got me wondering, in the age of downloading and the everything-all-of-the-time'ness of the internet, is art becoming less valuable as a result? Are we becoming less appreciative of creativity and the effort that goes into producing works? Has the quick-fix generation degraded the idea of creative arts as something to be appreciated, replacing it with the idea that it is something merely to pass the time that we want at our convenience almost no longer even having to think about it at all?
What do you think?
I looked up a book on Amazon just now and the amount of people selling it for 1 penny was ridiculous! Seriously 1p + postage & packaging (of about 2.75)! Unbelievable. It got me wondering, in the age of downloading and the everything-all-of-the-time'ness of the internet, is art becoming less valuable as a result? Are we becoming less appreciative of creativity and the effort that goes into producing works? Has the quick-fix generation degraded the idea of creative arts as something to be appreciated, replacing it with the idea that it is something merely to pass the time that we want at our convenience almost no longer even having to think about it at all?
What do you think?
Thursday 15 November 2007
Guest Blogger #10: Schmemma - "Giantest Wimp."
hello..schmemma here. i too have been asked to write something for the potato farm, and i felt very honoured indeed..but the honour then gave way to unease, and then to downright panic over what exactly i was going to write about that would live up to the good name of the potato farm..
the only thing that i've considered writing about was something that happened on the bus home yesterday..there were 2 little girls (when i say little, i reckon they were about 8) dressed entirely in pink sat at the front on the top deck, playing hideously bad garage music from their mobile phone speaker..this is always very annoying, but happens so much these days that i just sighed and dug my ipod out of my bag..
no sooner had i plugged myself than i saw the man in front of me, who had been fidgeting in a somewhat agitated way for a while, get up and politely ask the girls to turn their music off..and they did! amazing..i half expected the whole top deck to burst into applause..when it didn't, i was tempted to pat the man on the back in a congratulatory fashion when he sat back down. instead i did nothing but smile to myself and turn my ipod back on. then, however, i started to get paranoid that said man, suddenly on a roll, was going to turn round and tell me to turn my own music down..not wanting to be told off by a stranger, i pre-empted him by turning it down myself..which reminded me that i have always been the sort of person who will do anything to avoid getting told off by people who are not members of my close family..why is this? what would have happened if the man had indeed turned round and told me to turn my ipod down? well, dear readers, i will tell you..i would very probably have burst into tears. yes. i am the giantest wimp in the world..
when i told owlhead that i was thinking of submitting this story to the potato farm, he said that it was the rubbishest story he'd ever heard, and that i had to think of something better. but i didn't. maybe i should have told you all about when the young knives came to visit newcastle last week, an evening which ended very late and very drunkenly, and resulted in owlhead being over an hour late for work the next day (for the first time ever, apparently)..or maybe i should have told you about the awesome youthmovies gig we saw the other week..but i thought you'd all prefer to hear the bus story, because it is obviously good and owlhead is obviously wrong. so there.
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Schmemma. All rights reserved. Schmemma is the author of the blog "Molly Ringwald Blues" which is in the "Axl Approved" list there, or the address is http://mollyringwaldblues.blogspot.com/
Owlhead is some sort of meanie or something, I dunno, he sounds a little like he should get his act together or something. I mean, he's a pretty unsavoury character, I reckon he's got a shady past. I've never seen his body, but I bet it's all scarred up and that from working for t'northern mafia or something. He probably used to sell drugs to kids, and I heard a rumour that his nickname Owlhead, comes from when he was caught giving an owl head in his local aviary. That's why he's barred from there. Apparently, he now spends much of his time trying to attract pigeons so he can have his wicked way with them. Filthy bastard.
the only thing that i've considered writing about was something that happened on the bus home yesterday..there were 2 little girls (when i say little, i reckon they were about 8) dressed entirely in pink sat at the front on the top deck, playing hideously bad garage music from their mobile phone speaker..this is always very annoying, but happens so much these days that i just sighed and dug my ipod out of my bag..
no sooner had i plugged myself than i saw the man in front of me, who had been fidgeting in a somewhat agitated way for a while, get up and politely ask the girls to turn their music off..and they did! amazing..i half expected the whole top deck to burst into applause..when it didn't, i was tempted to pat the man on the back in a congratulatory fashion when he sat back down. instead i did nothing but smile to myself and turn my ipod back on. then, however, i started to get paranoid that said man, suddenly on a roll, was going to turn round and tell me to turn my own music down..not wanting to be told off by a stranger, i pre-empted him by turning it down myself..which reminded me that i have always been the sort of person who will do anything to avoid getting told off by people who are not members of my close family..why is this? what would have happened if the man had indeed turned round and told me to turn my ipod down? well, dear readers, i will tell you..i would very probably have burst into tears. yes. i am the giantest wimp in the world..
when i told owlhead that i was thinking of submitting this story to the potato farm, he said that it was the rubbishest story he'd ever heard, and that i had to think of something better. but i didn't. maybe i should have told you all about when the young knives came to visit newcastle last week, an evening which ended very late and very drunkenly, and resulted in owlhead being over an hour late for work the next day (for the first time ever, apparently)..or maybe i should have told you about the awesome youthmovies gig we saw the other week..but i thought you'd all prefer to hear the bus story, because it is obviously good and owlhead is obviously wrong. so there.
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Schmemma. All rights reserved. Schmemma is the author of the blog "Molly Ringwald Blues" which is in the "Axl Approved" list there, or the address is http://mollyringwaldblues.blogspot.com/
Owlhead is some sort of meanie or something, I dunno, he sounds a little like he should get his act together or something. I mean, he's a pretty unsavoury character, I reckon he's got a shady past. I've never seen his body, but I bet it's all scarred up and that from working for t'northern mafia or something. He probably used to sell drugs to kids, and I heard a rumour that his nickname Owlhead, comes from when he was caught giving an owl head in his local aviary. That's why he's barred from there. Apparently, he now spends much of his time trying to attract pigeons so he can have his wicked way with them. Filthy bastard.
Tuesday 13 November 2007
Guest Blogger #9: Pipsywoo - "Brainsick and Usual Shit at the Potato Farm."
Hello all, Pipsywoo popping by with a triumphant hiya!
Axl, like many others asked myself to do a guest blog, I was overly flattered, with some ego stroking I said yes yes yes and here I am.
I've been thinking about what to write about but I've no real ideas? Serious is probably out, funny is shit when forced, life stories are funny but I have none of those currently, maybe I could give you synopsis' of my favourite films within 5 seconds long but that would be no fun, as my favourite films are either well known block busters or shite bollocks that i should be ridiculed for liking, although no one would bother, it's rubbish. So I popped by The Potato Farm for some inspiration.
Outside of the front of the office, is concrete, concrete and some more concrete, the front door is bright red with the graffiti of a small penis walking down the street about to slip on a banana skin, rather fitting. Ring the buzzer and in I go...
...as I walk up the stairs, the first thing that hits me is the smell of stagnant whisky and the brightness of the office. The office opens out to the right. At the top of the stairs is a waiting area, with brown battered leather couches, a small glass coffee table and a collection of magazines. Currently, Axl appears to be in slumberland, snoring away with a little puddle of dribble accumulating on the cushion, while the hubbub of the office carries on regardless. I believe that his sleep explains the smell of whisky.
To the right of the stairs are two sets of double desks and opposite that and next to the waiting area is another set of double desks.
The walls are the imaginative magnolia, with quite high sloped ceilings, posters of cult films on the walls and press cuttings of the blog and the space is well lit from the skylites.
The bins are over flowing with discarded jokes and stories, from here I can see one that involves an elephant, an English man and a golden carrot, if this is the sort of stuff being discarded, I can not wait to see the new stuff being created. The double desks have personal dividers of posters of the staffs favourite stars or family members and they all have a certain individual flair.
The first desk to come across next to the stairs are Alice and Oscar (Creative Consultants) who sit at the same desk, they are inseparable and it appears that Oscar has a liking for semi-nude actors, not sure if Alice has actually noticed, she seems a little oblivious to say the least. Their chosen actor is Orlando Bloom - loads of him everywhere, no ladies, all him - I would say that maybe Alice is a little more persuasive than Oscar in the poster selection but I doubt it, due to Oscar's slightly flexi wrists, a copy of Queer as Folk running in the corner of his mac and his comment about my scarf and how beautiful Pucci's creations are, also the well thumbed copy of Vogue hidden inside his FHM could be a small give away but I'll try to keep my mind open, after all he does work in a creative field.
Opposite them is Clarence (Alcoholic PR guru?!), I understand that the posters of Orlando blocks out Clarences drunken stupor and general abuse. Clarence doesn't really have any posters, he has a liquor cupboard with a selection of whiskeys on one side and in replacement of his bottom drawer is a small fridge of various tins, his desk is under a skylite which appears to be constantly open and the toilet is right behind him. Also he has a complete lack of papers or computer on his desk, just a copy of Pub Weekly, the yellow pages and a telephone. Regardless of his lack of paperwork, he appears to do his job well enough, no one complains and apparently throws an incredible Christmas party.
Next to this desk at the end of the office you'll find Jenny (Finance) and Garfield (HR), their desk is full of laughter and old photos of each other, you would have thought sitting opposite each other would have been enough but i guess that they like to be surrounded by each other 24/7 or maybe they like reminders of the earlier years, where the sags, bags and wrinkles didn't exist...or maybe they haven't had time to update the photos due to how quickly the Potato Farm's success shot off. Jenny does happen to have one photo of someone else though, it's a signed photo of a chap called Odie, no idea who he is but he seems like a bright looking mutt.
The final desk is on the other side of the office, here you'll find Foxy and Badger (Research), since Clarrisa (still no job title) is new here, there doesn't seem to be a space for her, i assume she uses the coffee table and the sofas as a base but due to Axl's slumber she is currently sat at the top of the stairs with papers strewn around her.
Anyhow, Foxy and Badger' desk is covered in papers, magazines, gadgets, condoms and other crazy objects that appear to have been posted to the office with some hope of making it in to the blog. Badger appears to have a liking for Scarlett Johanssen, or so the 50 pictures of her would lead me to believe...Foxy' desk has one photo of Badger and is covered in beauty products and underwear. Badgers is covered in blokes mags and gadgets.
While here i get offered numerous cups of tea by Clarissa (maybe tea girl would be a fitting title) and a tin of cider by Clarence. I had a lot of fun and was surrounded by laughter and chatter all day long. Axl finally arose to visit the toilet at around 2pm, he waved hello and then went back to complete his slumber, no one mentioned the piss dribble on his trousers but I felt it was better to be mentioned here, I'm not employed or polite enough to not say something. The cleaner popped by to apologise for not having been there for a while. She didn't do any cleaning but did smoke about 10 cigarettes while apologising, which appeared to me to be quite a feat, due to her stay only being about 5 minutes long.
The day also saw some blogs being dropped by, from avid Potato Farm readers and I thoroughly enjoyed my stay, I'll happily pop by some time in the future very soon. Although I've one point to make, it's called a Potato Farm, yet I saw no Potatoes? None what so ever...no where, not even outside, as it's allocated on the Cowley Road, there is no vegetable patch in the back garden and the nearest allotment, I believe is on Iffley Road, which is quite a walk away...unless the dying herb box is full of potatoes, I've no idea where the name came from, unless they all turn in to potatoes after midnight?!
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Pipsywoo. All rights reserved. Pipsywoo is the author of the blog "Usual Shit & Brain Sick" which can be found via the "Brain Sick" link in the "Axl Approved" list there, or the adress is http://pipsywoo.blogspot.com/
She also wrote the "40 Days Without MySpace" blog about her attempts at giving up said social networking site for lent. It is also in the "Axl Approved" list or can be found here http://www.40dayswithoutmyspace.blogspot.com/
Additional: After a week of clicking and hoping, we have to sadly say goodbye to the blog "Just One More Slice", as it appears to have been deleted by the author. We wish Lardy Big Bot well in her attempt at becoming slender and svelte and we at the farm will miss her blog.
Axl, like many others asked myself to do a guest blog, I was overly flattered, with some ego stroking I said yes yes yes and here I am.
I've been thinking about what to write about but I've no real ideas? Serious is probably out, funny is shit when forced, life stories are funny but I have none of those currently, maybe I could give you synopsis' of my favourite films within 5 seconds long but that would be no fun, as my favourite films are either well known block busters or shite bollocks that i should be ridiculed for liking, although no one would bother, it's rubbish. So I popped by The Potato Farm for some inspiration.
Outside of the front of the office, is concrete, concrete and some more concrete, the front door is bright red with the graffiti of a small penis walking down the street about to slip on a banana skin, rather fitting. Ring the buzzer and in I go...
...as I walk up the stairs, the first thing that hits me is the smell of stagnant whisky and the brightness of the office. The office opens out to the right. At the top of the stairs is a waiting area, with brown battered leather couches, a small glass coffee table and a collection of magazines. Currently, Axl appears to be in slumberland, snoring away with a little puddle of dribble accumulating on the cushion, while the hubbub of the office carries on regardless. I believe that his sleep explains the smell of whisky.
To the right of the stairs are two sets of double desks and opposite that and next to the waiting area is another set of double desks.
The walls are the imaginative magnolia, with quite high sloped ceilings, posters of cult films on the walls and press cuttings of the blog and the space is well lit from the skylites.
The bins are over flowing with discarded jokes and stories, from here I can see one that involves an elephant, an English man and a golden carrot, if this is the sort of stuff being discarded, I can not wait to see the new stuff being created. The double desks have personal dividers of posters of the staffs favourite stars or family members and they all have a certain individual flair.
The first desk to come across next to the stairs are Alice and Oscar (Creative Consultants) who sit at the same desk, they are inseparable and it appears that Oscar has a liking for semi-nude actors, not sure if Alice has actually noticed, she seems a little oblivious to say the least. Their chosen actor is Orlando Bloom - loads of him everywhere, no ladies, all him - I would say that maybe Alice is a little more persuasive than Oscar in the poster selection but I doubt it, due to Oscar's slightly flexi wrists, a copy of Queer as Folk running in the corner of his mac and his comment about my scarf and how beautiful Pucci's creations are, also the well thumbed copy of Vogue hidden inside his FHM could be a small give away but I'll try to keep my mind open, after all he does work in a creative field.
Opposite them is Clarence (Alcoholic PR guru?!), I understand that the posters of Orlando blocks out Clarences drunken stupor and general abuse. Clarence doesn't really have any posters, he has a liquor cupboard with a selection of whiskeys on one side and in replacement of his bottom drawer is a small fridge of various tins, his desk is under a skylite which appears to be constantly open and the toilet is right behind him. Also he has a complete lack of papers or computer on his desk, just a copy of Pub Weekly, the yellow pages and a telephone. Regardless of his lack of paperwork, he appears to do his job well enough, no one complains and apparently throws an incredible Christmas party.
Next to this desk at the end of the office you'll find Jenny (Finance) and Garfield (HR), their desk is full of laughter and old photos of each other, you would have thought sitting opposite each other would have been enough but i guess that they like to be surrounded by each other 24/7 or maybe they like reminders of the earlier years, where the sags, bags and wrinkles didn't exist...or maybe they haven't had time to update the photos due to how quickly the Potato Farm's success shot off. Jenny does happen to have one photo of someone else though, it's a signed photo of a chap called Odie, no idea who he is but he seems like a bright looking mutt.
The final desk is on the other side of the office, here you'll find Foxy and Badger (Research), since Clarrisa (still no job title) is new here, there doesn't seem to be a space for her, i assume she uses the coffee table and the sofas as a base but due to Axl's slumber she is currently sat at the top of the stairs with papers strewn around her.
Anyhow, Foxy and Badger' desk is covered in papers, magazines, gadgets, condoms and other crazy objects that appear to have been posted to the office with some hope of making it in to the blog. Badger appears to have a liking for Scarlett Johanssen, or so the 50 pictures of her would lead me to believe...Foxy' desk has one photo of Badger and is covered in beauty products and underwear. Badgers is covered in blokes mags and gadgets.
While here i get offered numerous cups of tea by Clarissa (maybe tea girl would be a fitting title) and a tin of cider by Clarence. I had a lot of fun and was surrounded by laughter and chatter all day long. Axl finally arose to visit the toilet at around 2pm, he waved hello and then went back to complete his slumber, no one mentioned the piss dribble on his trousers but I felt it was better to be mentioned here, I'm not employed or polite enough to not say something. The cleaner popped by to apologise for not having been there for a while. She didn't do any cleaning but did smoke about 10 cigarettes while apologising, which appeared to me to be quite a feat, due to her stay only being about 5 minutes long.
The day also saw some blogs being dropped by, from avid Potato Farm readers and I thoroughly enjoyed my stay, I'll happily pop by some time in the future very soon. Although I've one point to make, it's called a Potato Farm, yet I saw no Potatoes? None what so ever...no where, not even outside, as it's allocated on the Cowley Road, there is no vegetable patch in the back garden and the nearest allotment, I believe is on Iffley Road, which is quite a walk away...unless the dying herb box is full of potatoes, I've no idea where the name came from, unless they all turn in to potatoes after midnight?!
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Pipsywoo. All rights reserved. Pipsywoo is the author of the blog "Usual Shit & Brain Sick" which can be found via the "Brain Sick" link in the "Axl Approved" list there, or the adress is http://pipsywoo.blogspot.com/
She also wrote the "40 Days Without MySpace" blog about her attempts at giving up said social networking site for lent. It is also in the "Axl Approved" list or can be found here http://www.40dayswithoutmyspace.blogspot.com/
Additional: After a week of clicking and hoping, we have to sadly say goodbye to the blog "Just One More Slice", as it appears to have been deleted by the author. We wish Lardy Big Bot well in her attempt at becoming slender and svelte and we at the farm will miss her blog.
Monday 12 November 2007
Guest Blogger #8: Grundy - "Blooog"
I'm having a bad day. I got woke up early by Sean Kingston on the radio downstairs. I wouldn't wish this upon anyone, let alone a monday morning before 9 o'clock.
I then got a message from Orange notifying me my phone had been cut off due to a lack of payment,which technically is my fault, but still annoying. I paid the bill and they reconnected my phone within 20 minutes which is unbelievable for them. Then, as its my last day off of my holiday, I decided to walk up to the lake while listening to music again. I got about half a mile from my home when I put my iPod on. Its then I realised that it had no battery power.
So here I am, at home. Writing this while charging the GrundiPod, waiting to walk to the lake. The lake is probably my favourite area of Witney. You can go 2 hours without seeing anyone sometimes, and its only just outside the town centre.
Oh yeah, I have to show you this. I came across it while sorting something out for my guitar. Who'd pay for these? http://cgi.ebay.com/NEW-ERNIE-BALL-SUPER-SLINKY-GUITAR-STRINGS-CUSTOM-GAUGE_W0QQitemZ170167703745QQihZ007QQcategoryZ121174QQcmdZViewItem
People do try and sell any old shit these days don't they. A full packet can be bought for the same price or thereabouts.
While on ebay, I tested out the LOOOOOOOOK factor, mentioned previously by Hannah (I think). http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/NEW-ACTION-MAN-ANNUAL-2001-LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK_W0QQitemZ300171077659QQihZ020QQcategoryZ1093QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
14 O's is not a world record, but its a bit over the top for an Action Man annual.
I'm going to leave you with a little game to try out before I go. I'll call it the "Babelfish double translator Challenge".
step 1.
Go here - http://babelfish.altavista.com/
step 2.
Type in a phrase and translate it to whatever language you want.
step 3.
Copy and paste the translation, and translate it back into English, and see the results.
Eg.Mr Axls lovely potato farm is the worlds best blog
=
The farm of the potato whose Axls is beautiful is blog where the world is best
when sent to Japan and back.
========================================================
Thats about all I'm going to say I think. Apologies if its not that fun to read, but there you go.
I shall leave you with a crap joke that I found funny:
Q.Why can't a Frenchman eat more than one egg?
A. Because to him, one egg is an oeuf
Over & Out
http://www.grundygrundy.blogspot.com/
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Grundy. All rights reserved.
Grundy is the author of his own self titled blog which can be found listed in the "Axl Approved" list, or just click the link he himself has provided. Grundy plays guitar and does vocals in the band ECHOESechoes ( http://www.myspace.com/echoesechoes )
He was also a guitarist/vocalist for the band Vestibule (R.I.P) ( http://www.myspace.com/vestibulemusic )
I then got a message from Orange notifying me my phone had been cut off due to a lack of payment,which technically is my fault, but still annoying. I paid the bill and they reconnected my phone within 20 minutes which is unbelievable for them. Then, as its my last day off of my holiday, I decided to walk up to the lake while listening to music again. I got about half a mile from my home when I put my iPod on. Its then I realised that it had no battery power.
So here I am, at home. Writing this while charging the GrundiPod, waiting to walk to the lake. The lake is probably my favourite area of Witney. You can go 2 hours without seeing anyone sometimes, and its only just outside the town centre.
Oh yeah, I have to show you this. I came across it while sorting something out for my guitar. Who'd pay for these? http://cgi.ebay.com/NEW-ERNIE-BALL-SUPER-SLINKY-GUITAR-STRINGS-CUSTOM-GAUGE_W0QQitemZ170167703745QQihZ007QQcategoryZ121174QQcmdZViewItem
People do try and sell any old shit these days don't they. A full packet can be bought for the same price or thereabouts.
While on ebay, I tested out the LOOOOOOOOK factor, mentioned previously by Hannah (I think). http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/NEW-ACTION-MAN-ANNUAL-2001-LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK_W0QQitemZ300171077659QQihZ020QQcategoryZ1093QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
14 O's is not a world record, but its a bit over the top for an Action Man annual.
I'm going to leave you with a little game to try out before I go. I'll call it the "Babelfish double translator Challenge".
step 1.
Go here - http://babelfish.altavista.com/
step 2.
Type in a phrase and translate it to whatever language you want.
step 3.
Copy and paste the translation, and translate it back into English, and see the results.
Eg.Mr Axls lovely potato farm is the worlds best blog
=
The farm of the potato whose Axls is beautiful is blog where the world is best
when sent to Japan and back.
========================================================
Thats about all I'm going to say I think. Apologies if its not that fun to read, but there you go.
I shall leave you with a crap joke that I found funny:
Q.Why can't a Frenchman eat more than one egg?
A. Because to him, one egg is an oeuf
Over & Out
http://www.grundygrundy.blogspot.com/
Written & e-mailed to the potato farm by Grundy. All rights reserved.
Grundy is the author of his own self titled blog which can be found listed in the "Axl Approved" list, or just click the link he himself has provided. Grundy plays guitar and does vocals in the band ECHOESechoes ( http://www.myspace.com/echoesechoes )
He was also a guitarist/vocalist for the band Vestibule (R.I.P) ( http://www.myspace.com/vestibulemusic )
Sunday 11 November 2007
Guest Blogger #7: Cotty - "Home Sweet Home?"
i'm not generally a blogger at all, so becoming a guest blogger for Axl is not something which comes very naturally to me. It looked like fun though, so how could I refuse?
It was only on my journey back to leamington that I thought of something that might half-way approach a blog-worthy topic.
Its slightly sad to say now that leamington is more than just the train stop before coventry, where all the beautiful women in the world hang out, it would seem. (not leamington though, oh no, that would make life FAR too pleasurable.)
to illustrate, here is coventry's effort:
and an artist's impression of the view from the train in leamington:
I should probably stop here, though, cus blake's mum grew up in leamington and she's not like that. oh no.
But the really strange thing is, as the train stopped, i felt like i was coming home FROM oxford, instead of going away from oxford to study again. i have no great love for leamington at all (as illustrated by the drawings above), whereas i have lived in oxford for 20 years and it is an amazing place. it seems so strange that it has wedged itself in there in such a short amount of time. does the town you grow up in ever stop being your home, or can it change, or what? does this sound like the end to an episode of sex and the city?
what a shit blog, but i did it, and it was my first one, so there. plus i had pictures, didn't i?
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Cotty. All rights reserved. Cotty is the guitarist for the band The Walk Off. Check them out here http://www.myspace.com/walkoff because they're fucking awesome. Cotty may think his blog is shit, but we like it.
It was only on my journey back to leamington that I thought of something that might half-way approach a blog-worthy topic.
Its slightly sad to say now that leamington is more than just the train stop before coventry, where all the beautiful women in the world hang out, it would seem. (not leamington though, oh no, that would make life FAR too pleasurable.)
to illustrate, here is coventry's effort:
and an artist's impression of the view from the train in leamington:
I should probably stop here, though, cus blake's mum grew up in leamington and she's not like that. oh no.
But the really strange thing is, as the train stopped, i felt like i was coming home FROM oxford, instead of going away from oxford to study again. i have no great love for leamington at all (as illustrated by the drawings above), whereas i have lived in oxford for 20 years and it is an amazing place. it seems so strange that it has wedged itself in there in such a short amount of time. does the town you grow up in ever stop being your home, or can it change, or what? does this sound like the end to an episode of sex and the city?
what a shit blog, but i did it, and it was my first one, so there. plus i had pictures, didn't i?
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Cotty. All rights reserved. Cotty is the guitarist for the band The Walk Off. Check them out here http://www.myspace.com/walkoff because they're fucking awesome. Cotty may think his blog is shit, but we like it.
Slight Return - Audioscope.
Sorry for the lack of a Guest Blog yesterday, but we at the farm were all out at Audioscope. For those not in the know, Audioscope is an annual all day gig for the charity Shelter, that is held here in Oxford.
Anyway, who did we bump into but Mr Axl himself. We weren't sure if he was gonna turn up, we knew he had a ticket but we haven't been in contact with him for the last week. Anyway, he said he was planning to write a review of what he saw, but as you can see there is no review. We got a text message from him at about 2 this morning that said:
"Can't write review! Shit & Shine are the best band in the world EVER!!!!!"
Basically, to clear things up, after the band Shit & Shine had finished their set, Axl and his friend Lex were seen hugging each other and barely able to speak, just managing to get across that they both thought it was the best thing they had ever seen. Ever.
Now, none of us here at the farm are particularly good at writing reviews and pieces, that's what we have Axl for. All we can do is tell you what he told us later on in the evening.
About The Sea & Cake: "I thought they were really good. Really good, nice songs. A bit kinda Beach Boysey in places almost. Maybe. I dunno, it's just a shame they were on after Shit & Shine. I couldn't quite take it in properly, but I thought they were real good."
About Clark: "I really enjoyed Clark, I thought he was wicked. The only problem was it was about half-eight. If it had been like, half-eleven or something it would've been awesome. Better for dancing times and all that. But no, I thought he was really good."
About Michael Rother & Dieter Mobius: "I was really worried about them at first coz I really didn't like the first three songs they did, but then they just got awesome! There was another one I didn't like later on, but no, after those first three, they were totally awesome."
And one last Axl thought on Shit & Shine?: "I still can't even speak about it properly. It was just the most incredible thing I've ever seen in my whole life. The drums, the drones, the hypnotic rhythm, just fucking incredible. I can't get over it!"
Axl missed the bands that played before them because he was working. For our money the best band he missed were Einstellung who we thought were really good. The band of the whole night would have to be Shit & Shine who were just phenomenal.
Sorry this isn't a proper review, but like I said, none of us are really that good at this writing thing, and Axl was just to dumbfounded to do it himself.
We'll see if we can get another guest blog up today, it may have to wait though. We're not entirely sure when Axl will be back yet I'm afraid.
This blog was written by Clarence, the potato farm PR alligator and Corrine boob toucher.
Additional: Due to a number of concerned messages, we would like to point out that "Anya Moss" is not Axl under a pseudonym. It is a friend of his and the farm's under a pseudonym, and no, we're not telling who, so don't ask. We hope that by publishing this we can help "Anya" to bring some closure to a matter that is on their mind.
Anyway, who did we bump into but Mr Axl himself. We weren't sure if he was gonna turn up, we knew he had a ticket but we haven't been in contact with him for the last week. Anyway, he said he was planning to write a review of what he saw, but as you can see there is no review. We got a text message from him at about 2 this morning that said:
"Can't write review! Shit & Shine are the best band in the world EVER!!!!!"
Basically, to clear things up, after the band Shit & Shine had finished their set, Axl and his friend Lex were seen hugging each other and barely able to speak, just managing to get across that they both thought it was the best thing they had ever seen. Ever.
Now, none of us here at the farm are particularly good at writing reviews and pieces, that's what we have Axl for. All we can do is tell you what he told us later on in the evening.
About The Sea & Cake: "I thought they were really good. Really good, nice songs. A bit kinda Beach Boysey in places almost. Maybe. I dunno, it's just a shame they were on after Shit & Shine. I couldn't quite take it in properly, but I thought they were real good."
About Clark: "I really enjoyed Clark, I thought he was wicked. The only problem was it was about half-eight. If it had been like, half-eleven or something it would've been awesome. Better for dancing times and all that. But no, I thought he was really good."
About Michael Rother & Dieter Mobius: "I was really worried about them at first coz I really didn't like the first three songs they did, but then they just got awesome! There was another one I didn't like later on, but no, after those first three, they were totally awesome."
And one last Axl thought on Shit & Shine?: "I still can't even speak about it properly. It was just the most incredible thing I've ever seen in my whole life. The drums, the drones, the hypnotic rhythm, just fucking incredible. I can't get over it!"
Axl missed the bands that played before them because he was working. For our money the best band he missed were Einstellung who we thought were really good. The band of the whole night would have to be Shit & Shine who were just phenomenal.
Sorry this isn't a proper review, but like I said, none of us are really that good at this writing thing, and Axl was just to dumbfounded to do it himself.
We'll see if we can get another guest blog up today, it may have to wait though. We're not entirely sure when Axl will be back yet I'm afraid.
This blog was written by Clarence, the potato farm PR alligator and Corrine boob toucher.
Additional: Due to a number of concerned messages, we would like to point out that "Anya Moss" is not Axl under a pseudonym. It is a friend of his and the farm's under a pseudonym, and no, we're not telling who, so don't ask. We hope that by publishing this we can help "Anya" to bring some closure to a matter that is on their mind.
Friday 9 November 2007
Guest Blogger #6: Anya Moss - "To Whom It May Concern"
Axl asked me to write this blog, so I took time out to write a personal message to someone who once touched my life and helped partially shape me to be the person who I am today, in good and bad ways. I'm sorry it's a little heavy but it's something I needed to remove from my head. Written by Anya Moss.
I'm not in love with you, I was, don't get me wrong and that's why I'm writing this. I don't like you but that doesn't mean I don't care for you.I hate seeing how lost you are and how people have lost respect for you. You wander around lost in a complex maze without a map, without regard for anyone else. You hurt and use, for your own gain and the only person loosing out, is you.
When I see you now, it's similar to seeing a stranger, someone who looks like an old acquaintance but that's where the familiarity ends. You're a shadow of your former self.
It kills me to see you this way, only because I'm aware of how incredible you once were. I pray you become this person again, in fact I hope you become a more amazing person, someone who'd blow all of my expectations out of the water, out of the skies.
You have the ability to be phenomenal but you've no idea this is the case. You've always relied on others for your self belief and now there's no one backing you up, so you doubt everything you think, feel, know.
So until that day, when I won't even be around to know how incredible you are, good luck and good luck only.
I wish you all the best in the world.
Stand on the stage of life and knock everyone dead.
I'll never forget you for good and bad reasons and I hope in time that the good memories destroy the bad, as how can true fairy-tales have both.
I'm grateful in some aspects that you were in my life but I'm also grateful you won't be in my future.
Love someone you once shared your life with. x
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Anya Moss. All rights reserved.
Additional: Due to a number of concerned messages, we would like to point out that "Anya Moss" is not Axl under a pseudonym. It is a friend of his and the farm's under a pseudonym, and no, we're not telling who, so don't ask. We hope that by publishing this we can help "Anya" to bring some closure to a matter that is on their mind.
Extra Additional: Anya Moss has set up their own blog. It is on the Axl Approved list as "Anya Moss' City" and the adress is http://anyamoss.blogspot.com/
I'm not in love with you, I was, don't get me wrong and that's why I'm writing this. I don't like you but that doesn't mean I don't care for you.I hate seeing how lost you are and how people have lost respect for you. You wander around lost in a complex maze without a map, without regard for anyone else. You hurt and use, for your own gain and the only person loosing out, is you.
When I see you now, it's similar to seeing a stranger, someone who looks like an old acquaintance but that's where the familiarity ends. You're a shadow of your former self.
It kills me to see you this way, only because I'm aware of how incredible you once were. I pray you become this person again, in fact I hope you become a more amazing person, someone who'd blow all of my expectations out of the water, out of the skies.
You have the ability to be phenomenal but you've no idea this is the case. You've always relied on others for your self belief and now there's no one backing you up, so you doubt everything you think, feel, know.
So until that day, when I won't even be around to know how incredible you are, good luck and good luck only.
I wish you all the best in the world.
Stand on the stage of life and knock everyone dead.
I'll never forget you for good and bad reasons and I hope in time that the good memories destroy the bad, as how can true fairy-tales have both.
I'm grateful in some aspects that you were in my life but I'm also grateful you won't be in my future.
Love someone you once shared your life with. x
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Anya Moss. All rights reserved.
Additional: Due to a number of concerned messages, we would like to point out that "Anya Moss" is not Axl under a pseudonym. It is a friend of his and the farm's under a pseudonym, and no, we're not telling who, so don't ask. We hope that by publishing this we can help "Anya" to bring some closure to a matter that is on their mind.
Extra Additional: Anya Moss has set up their own blog. It is on the Axl Approved list as "Anya Moss' City" and the adress is http://anyamoss.blogspot.com/
Thursday 8 November 2007
Guest Blogger #5: Hannah Simpson - "LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK"
Hey Fuckos!
I, Han from cakeyvoice, am delighted to have been bestowed with the great honour of writing a guest post for the Potato Farm. Of course I jumped at the chance; I can’t swear on my own blog because my Mum reads it, but over at Axl’s, anything goes SO LISTEN UP YOU FUCKS BECAUSE THIS ONE’S GONNA BANG IN YOUR FACE.
I can’t tell you how excited I am to be inside of Axl’s blog. Wow, it smells funny in here. I’m just gonna make this one real quick & then get back to my own blog, which has a cleaning lady come in once a week.
Today I want to talk about STATCOUNTER. Now, Axl took a bit of convincing to install this on his blog. In fact, he flat-out refused when I first suggested it. But I, Han from cakeyvoice, KNEW that he would actually LOVE it, so in order to convince him, I sent him a list of keywords that Statcounter had recorded, detailing search terms that had somehow pulled my site into people’s search results. Do you have a blog? If you do, install Statcounter. It’s worth it just for this.
Before we start, I would like to take this opportunity to point out that if you Google COOLEST HANNAH IN THE UNIVERSE, I currently come up at NUMBER ONE, bitches. Yeah. I didn’t find that out on Statcounter though, it was via my own independent research. Because I wanted to know who the coolest Hannah in the Universe was, what of it?. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.
Aaaaaaany wayyyyy……..What follows is a list of my Top 10 Favourite Statcounter Keyword Hits Of All Time. Let’s just dive right in.
1. BUMHOLE [note the capital letters. This is no polite request for bumhole. This is a VIGOROUS DEMAND, make no mistake]
2. Do elephants eat buns [you BET they do! You know when you see them elephants on the news, rampaging through Asian street markets, that's BUN RAGE that is. Caused by either too much buns or not enough buns, it varies.]
3. photos of people dead at christmas time ["...and here's Frank after that champagne cork punctured his eye socket in 2004...ooh, my hair looks terrible in that one..."etc.]
4. electro sex gloves [funnier in my imagination than in real life]
5. man burps to death [you wish]
6. bare buttock beatings of young males [YOU WISH]
7. dead pepole pics [Pepole. Hehe. I SEE DEAD PEPOLE]
8. what do giraffes do for fun [Dunno the answer to this. You don't see many giraffes at Alton Towers, do you?]
9. ginger biscuits with ugly faces [hey, woah - don't discriminate against the gingers, man]
10. round japan sneaking up on girls and pulling there pants down [errrrrr...]
Sadly, time constraints are compelling me to draw this special moment to a close. But if you're bored at work, why not try out my new hobby? It's like this, right, you go to eBay and type in the word ‘look’ into the search bar, but with loads of ‘o’s like LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK and then just when you think that that’s TOO MANY Os, you do the search, and then you have to look at whatever comes up. Like, they obviously want you to LOOOOOOK the most because they put all those Os in, right? So the least you can do is LOOOOOK. Today I found this STUNNING BURBERRY TIE – EX CONDITION – LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK (you should read out the title with the appropriate amount of emphasis, depending on how much they want you to LOOOOOOK)
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/STUNNING-BURBERRY-TIE-EX-CONDITION-LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK_W0QQitemZ180177211856QQihZ008QQcategoryZ1060QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
which is 14 Os good, but is beaten by this 101 gearbox, Land Rover gearbox Looooooooooooooooook
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/101-gearbox-Land-Rover-gearbox-Looooooooooooooooook_W0QQitemZ280169090471QQihZ018QQcategoryZ31348QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
featuring an astonishing 18 Os! Exactly the same amount of time in minutes that it will take you to locate said gearbox in the photo they have provided. Which scores me an extra 5 Os for irony. So there you go. The LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK game. If you can beat 18 Os (plus my 5 bonus Os), let me know.
Otherwise, cock off you knobbers.
xxxxxxxxox
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Hannah Simpson. All rights reserved. Hannah Simpson is the author of the blog "Cakeyvoice", which is one of the links in the "Axl Approved" list to the side just there. Or the adress is http://electricbiscuitonline.blogspot.com/
I, Han from cakeyvoice, am delighted to have been bestowed with the great honour of writing a guest post for the Potato Farm. Of course I jumped at the chance; I can’t swear on my own blog because my Mum reads it, but over at Axl’s, anything goes SO LISTEN UP YOU FUCKS BECAUSE THIS ONE’S GONNA BANG IN YOUR FACE.
I can’t tell you how excited I am to be inside of Axl’s blog. Wow, it smells funny in here. I’m just gonna make this one real quick & then get back to my own blog, which has a cleaning lady come in once a week.
Today I want to talk about STATCOUNTER. Now, Axl took a bit of convincing to install this on his blog. In fact, he flat-out refused when I first suggested it. But I, Han from cakeyvoice, KNEW that he would actually LOVE it, so in order to convince him, I sent him a list of keywords that Statcounter had recorded, detailing search terms that had somehow pulled my site into people’s search results. Do you have a blog? If you do, install Statcounter. It’s worth it just for this.
Before we start, I would like to take this opportunity to point out that if you Google COOLEST HANNAH IN THE UNIVERSE, I currently come up at NUMBER ONE, bitches. Yeah. I didn’t find that out on Statcounter though, it was via my own independent research. Because I wanted to know who the coolest Hannah in the Universe was, what of it?. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.
Aaaaaaany wayyyyy……..What follows is a list of my Top 10 Favourite Statcounter Keyword Hits Of All Time. Let’s just dive right in.
1. BUMHOLE [note the capital letters. This is no polite request for bumhole. This is a VIGOROUS DEMAND, make no mistake]
2. Do elephants eat buns [you BET they do! You know when you see them elephants on the news, rampaging through Asian street markets, that's BUN RAGE that is. Caused by either too much buns or not enough buns, it varies.]
3. photos of people dead at christmas time ["...and here's Frank after that champagne cork punctured his eye socket in 2004...ooh, my hair looks terrible in that one..."etc.]
4. electro sex gloves [funnier in my imagination than in real life]
5. man burps to death [you wish]
6. bare buttock beatings of young males [YOU WISH]
7. dead pepole pics [Pepole. Hehe. I SEE DEAD PEPOLE]
8. what do giraffes do for fun [Dunno the answer to this. You don't see many giraffes at Alton Towers, do you?]
9. ginger biscuits with ugly faces [hey, woah - don't discriminate against the gingers, man]
10. round japan sneaking up on girls and pulling there pants down [errrrrr...]
Sadly, time constraints are compelling me to draw this special moment to a close. But if you're bored at work, why not try out my new hobby? It's like this, right, you go to eBay and type in the word ‘look’ into the search bar, but with loads of ‘o’s like LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK and then just when you think that that’s TOO MANY Os, you do the search, and then you have to look at whatever comes up. Like, they obviously want you to LOOOOOOK the most because they put all those Os in, right? So the least you can do is LOOOOOK. Today I found this STUNNING BURBERRY TIE – EX CONDITION – LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK (you should read out the title with the appropriate amount of emphasis, depending on how much they want you to LOOOOOOK)
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/STUNNING-BURBERRY-TIE-EX-CONDITION-LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK_W0QQitemZ180177211856QQihZ008QQcategoryZ1060QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
which is 14 Os good, but is beaten by this 101 gearbox, Land Rover gearbox Looooooooooooooooook
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/101-gearbox-Land-Rover-gearbox-Looooooooooooooooook_W0QQitemZ280169090471QQihZ018QQcategoryZ31348QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
featuring an astonishing 18 Os! Exactly the same amount of time in minutes that it will take you to locate said gearbox in the photo they have provided. Which scores me an extra 5 Os for irony. So there you go. The LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK game. If you can beat 18 Os (plus my 5 bonus Os), let me know.
Otherwise, cock off you knobbers.
xxxxxxxxox
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Hannah Simpson. All rights reserved. Hannah Simpson is the author of the blog "Cakeyvoice", which is one of the links in the "Axl Approved" list to the side just there. Or the adress is http://electricbiscuitonline.blogspot.com/
Wednesday 7 November 2007
Guest Blogger #4: Erik Spurrier-Samuelsson - "Untitled."
I am happy to have been asked to write a blog post for Mr Axl while he is away. I enjoy his blog very much and hope I can write something that his readers shall enjoy.
I remember one of my favourite of his was when he took a song lyric about the mockingbird and told of the practicalities of what was being said. I also very much enjoyed when Mr John Ice-Cream did this two days ago with love phrases on his guest blog post. It made me wonder about some myself.
For example, when people want to be aggresive with you, they are often saying "Do you want a piece of me?". It puzzles me because, if someone dislikes you, or you are confrontational to someone, why would they want to have a piece of you to keep as their very own? Also, I am not sure what part you would be willing to let them have. If you are not liking someone, I suppose it would be a part of you they would not want to have, so I do not understand where this question has come from. I certainly don't think I would ever give a part of myself to another, even if I like them. Imagine that. "Hello, you are my friend and I like you. Would you like me to give you my stomach? Or a foot maybe?". That would be very strange, would it not?
"A nod's as good as a wink to a blind horse." is another one I am confused by. Surely if the horse is blind then this would apply to any visual action as the horse would not know what it is you are doing anyway. You could say "A wave is as good as the putting up of the middle finger to a blind horse." or "A smile is as good as a porn film on mute to a blind horse.". "A UFO sighting is as good as an audience with Marcel Marceau to a blind horse.". It all applies. I do not understand the point of such a phrase.
I also notice on the internet a lot of the time when people are writing on the forums they are critisising other people for errors of spelling and grammer. I think this is silly. It reminds me of the schoolchildren who are saying that their father is bigger than mine. I do not understand why when a discussion is in place that a simple mistake must be made fun of or insulted like this. It seems to me a little pathetic.
I have no more to say right now, so I suppose this is goodbye. I hope you enjoyed.
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Erik Spurrier-Samuelsson. All rights reserved.
I remember one of my favourite of his was when he took a song lyric about the mockingbird and told of the practicalities of what was being said. I also very much enjoyed when Mr John Ice-Cream did this two days ago with love phrases on his guest blog post. It made me wonder about some myself.
For example, when people want to be aggresive with you, they are often saying "Do you want a piece of me?". It puzzles me because, if someone dislikes you, or you are confrontational to someone, why would they want to have a piece of you to keep as their very own? Also, I am not sure what part you would be willing to let them have. If you are not liking someone, I suppose it would be a part of you they would not want to have, so I do not understand where this question has come from. I certainly don't think I would ever give a part of myself to another, even if I like them. Imagine that. "Hello, you are my friend and I like you. Would you like me to give you my stomach? Or a foot maybe?". That would be very strange, would it not?
"A nod's as good as a wink to a blind horse." is another one I am confused by. Surely if the horse is blind then this would apply to any visual action as the horse would not know what it is you are doing anyway. You could say "A wave is as good as the putting up of the middle finger to a blind horse." or "A smile is as good as a porn film on mute to a blind horse.". "A UFO sighting is as good as an audience with Marcel Marceau to a blind horse.". It all applies. I do not understand the point of such a phrase.
I also notice on the internet a lot of the time when people are writing on the forums they are critisising other people for errors of spelling and grammer. I think this is silly. It reminds me of the schoolchildren who are saying that their father is bigger than mine. I do not understand why when a discussion is in place that a simple mistake must be made fun of or insulted like this. It seems to me a little pathetic.
I have no more to say right now, so I suppose this is goodbye. I hope you enjoyed.
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Erik Spurrier-Samuelsson. All rights reserved.
Tuesday 6 November 2007
Guest Blogger #3: Louis Freeehmannh - "News, Blues & Foods."
Axl's still on his sabbatical/time off/holiday/break/whatever it is he's doing with himself, so I've been asked to write today's blog post.
Did any of you see the news on BBC1 this morning? It was pretty weird. There was a discussion/debate about women's underwear that hides and conceals fat and makes your body look more trim than it is. Then some guy from M&S was flirting with the woman doing the financial news buy talking to her about underwear. They followed that with a clip from Pakistan where a bunch of lawyers are rioting. I can't remember why but it was a weird clip. The general riot scene fodder, you know, police crouched behind shields, things being thrown at them, people running away, then you see whose actually rioting and it's a bunch of guys in suits throwing bricks and bottles. It was one of the most surreal things I've ever seen.
The thing was though I was eating some carrot cake, healthy breakfast I know, and I started wondering, who the hell came up with the idea for carrot cake? It's a pretty weird idea. I mean, you don't ever find yourself in a situation where you're at someones house and you say:
"Mm, this trifle's very nice. Might I ask what's in it?"
"Certainly. It's a pretty standard recipe really, but I added a couple of things to kind of spice it up a bit."
"It's really good."
"Oh, thank you."
"Very distinctive."
"Well, like I say, it's mostly just a standard recipe. You know, you've got your sponge, your ice-cream, jelly, custard, cream, a bit of brandy, hundreds and thousands to make it look nice, I do think presentation is important, and then I added a couple of things like a little cinnamon, some nutmeg, there's some dried apricot in there..."
"What's the green stuff?"
"Oh, that'll be the broccoli."
"Broccoli?"
"Yeah. I find it gives it a little more bite. A bit of body, you know?"
"It actually works really well. I'd never have expected it."
"I know, pretty weird huh?"
I wonder if anyone else has tried this vegetable/pudding combination? I wonder if across the world there are failed or secret recipes for things like Parsnip Gateaux, Potato Profiteroles, Brussels Sprout Meringue & Runner Bean Blancmange? Culinary bizarreness the world over that will never see the light of day because it's just too damn odd or revolting.
I just read this joke and it made me piss myself laughing:
Man 1: "Boy is my wife fat!"
Man 2: "How fat is she?"
Man 1: "She's so fat... The doctors pulled a 9oz 14lb human being out of her last Friday at 2pm."
I don't know why I find that quite so funny.
Anyway, I was djing at the Wounded Bat in Cirencester the other day when this guy came up to me with a record in his hand and said to me "Oi mate, play this tune, yeah? It's my new one! It's phat!"
"Who are you?" I said.
"Name's Jetison, yeah? Just puttin' this out, yeah, an' I want it promo'd and shit, yeah?"
"Jetison? Never heard of you."
"You wouldn't have mate, this is my first tune I'm puttin' out, yeah?"
I would normally have told him where to go, but suddenly I had this flash in my head. What if this guy's the next Burial or something? I could say I played him first! I had visions of being able to say I was the dj who launched this amazing artist.
"Yeah, alright mate, hand it over."
"Safe mate, yeah?"
I lined up the track, got the beats in time, and waited for the moment to drop it. I could see it now. The crowd would go ape over this new tune, everyone would want to know where I got it from, who's it by etc etc. I would make a name for myself and for Jetison right here, right now.
Drop.
Cleared the dancefloor. I'm not kidding. It was dreadful. I gave it a chance, and it was terrible. I looked out to the floor and could see this guy who'd handed me the record with a couple of his mates laughing their heads off. I couldn't believe it. I had been set up. Someone had gone to the trouble of recording and pressing a deliberatly awful track just to try and get me to play it. And I totally fell for it.
I did the only thing I could do to get any respect back. I took it off, smashed that record up and dropped "Ghost Hardware." A bit of an obvious move, but I was left with no choice. People back on the dancefloor, my credibility regained. I am never playing a record by someone I haven't heard before. I may actually make sure I have a third deck with me from now on so I can test any tunes that are handed to me. Hey, I don't want to totally write off finding the next big thing do I?
I should've known though. Jetison. Who would call themselves that?
Well, I had more things to write, but I've got to go now. There's a meeting at our Village Hall tonight, and I said I'd make a Casserole. I hope you've enjoyed what I've written.
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Louis Freeehmannh. All rights reserved.
Did any of you see the news on BBC1 this morning? It was pretty weird. There was a discussion/debate about women's underwear that hides and conceals fat and makes your body look more trim than it is. Then some guy from M&S was flirting with the woman doing the financial news buy talking to her about underwear. They followed that with a clip from Pakistan where a bunch of lawyers are rioting. I can't remember why but it was a weird clip. The general riot scene fodder, you know, police crouched behind shields, things being thrown at them, people running away, then you see whose actually rioting and it's a bunch of guys in suits throwing bricks and bottles. It was one of the most surreal things I've ever seen.
The thing was though I was eating some carrot cake, healthy breakfast I know, and I started wondering, who the hell came up with the idea for carrot cake? It's a pretty weird idea. I mean, you don't ever find yourself in a situation where you're at someones house and you say:
"Mm, this trifle's very nice. Might I ask what's in it?"
"Certainly. It's a pretty standard recipe really, but I added a couple of things to kind of spice it up a bit."
"It's really good."
"Oh, thank you."
"Very distinctive."
"Well, like I say, it's mostly just a standard recipe. You know, you've got your sponge, your ice-cream, jelly, custard, cream, a bit of brandy, hundreds and thousands to make it look nice, I do think presentation is important, and then I added a couple of things like a little cinnamon, some nutmeg, there's some dried apricot in there..."
"What's the green stuff?"
"Oh, that'll be the broccoli."
"Broccoli?"
"Yeah. I find it gives it a little more bite. A bit of body, you know?"
"It actually works really well. I'd never have expected it."
"I know, pretty weird huh?"
I wonder if anyone else has tried this vegetable/pudding combination? I wonder if across the world there are failed or secret recipes for things like Parsnip Gateaux, Potato Profiteroles, Brussels Sprout Meringue & Runner Bean Blancmange? Culinary bizarreness the world over that will never see the light of day because it's just too damn odd or revolting.
I just read this joke and it made me piss myself laughing:
Man 1: "Boy is my wife fat!"
Man 2: "How fat is she?"
Man 1: "She's so fat... The doctors pulled a 9oz 14lb human being out of her last Friday at 2pm."
I don't know why I find that quite so funny.
Anyway, I was djing at the Wounded Bat in Cirencester the other day when this guy came up to me with a record in his hand and said to me "Oi mate, play this tune, yeah? It's my new one! It's phat!"
"Who are you?" I said.
"Name's Jetison, yeah? Just puttin' this out, yeah, an' I want it promo'd and shit, yeah?"
"Jetison? Never heard of you."
"You wouldn't have mate, this is my first tune I'm puttin' out, yeah?"
I would normally have told him where to go, but suddenly I had this flash in my head. What if this guy's the next Burial or something? I could say I played him first! I had visions of being able to say I was the dj who launched this amazing artist.
"Yeah, alright mate, hand it over."
"Safe mate, yeah?"
I lined up the track, got the beats in time, and waited for the moment to drop it. I could see it now. The crowd would go ape over this new tune, everyone would want to know where I got it from, who's it by etc etc. I would make a name for myself and for Jetison right here, right now.
Drop.
Cleared the dancefloor. I'm not kidding. It was dreadful. I gave it a chance, and it was terrible. I looked out to the floor and could see this guy who'd handed me the record with a couple of his mates laughing their heads off. I couldn't believe it. I had been set up. Someone had gone to the trouble of recording and pressing a deliberatly awful track just to try and get me to play it. And I totally fell for it.
I did the only thing I could do to get any respect back. I took it off, smashed that record up and dropped "Ghost Hardware." A bit of an obvious move, but I was left with no choice. People back on the dancefloor, my credibility regained. I am never playing a record by someone I haven't heard before. I may actually make sure I have a third deck with me from now on so I can test any tunes that are handed to me. Hey, I don't want to totally write off finding the next big thing do I?
I should've known though. Jetison. Who would call themselves that?
Well, I had more things to write, but I've got to go now. There's a meeting at our Village Hall tonight, and I said I'd make a Casserole. I hope you've enjoyed what I've written.
Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Louis Freeehmannh. All rights reserved.
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