Wednesday, 28 November 2007

So, my last night at in Swiss Cottage. Had dinner with father at our usual chinese, and talked shop for a while. Its kind of neat we have this regular thing.

I'm now on disc four of season two of Buffy, still channeling mid-90s me. Memories of staying home in the evenings writing letters to Julia, sometimes three or four letters a day. Kind of like email this century or IM, but back then it was still snail mail. Never got my end away, we kissed once as I recall. Some pyjama party I'd been invited to.

Actually, now I think about it, she fucked me over. I was a nice guy who she could introduce to her parents, so when she was going out with an arse-rapist, she told her mum it was me. And when he hurt her, I got the blame. Rectal fissure, I seem to recall.

Last saw her at Reading '98, along with Zee.

There's been a vanishing on Anorak, and I can't find anyone else mentioning it. Whilst in nature, at any moment a blur of a hawk can swoop down and whisk Brer away to bunny heaven, I prefer a little bit more warning of these things online.

Tuesday, 27 November 2007

One happy customer

Job done

Draft article about the Plimptons part 1

Hi, name's Chris, I used to manage The Plimptons. They're a band from Motherwell who've been going on and off since December 1999. I didn't know them back then, I was too busy slashing my arms at uni.

It wasn't until I graduated and discovered the joys of AudioGalaxy on the internet, where you could download music for free in 2001. I'd tried searching for the names of local venues, hoping to get some live tracks, when I discovered a song called "When the Supernaturals Went to the 13th Note" by The Hector Collectors. The 13th Note was this cafe/venue in Glasgow, it was a weird lo-fi tune, sounding like a bunch of schoolies crouched round a tape recorder with out of tune instruments. Luckily later that week the Hector Collectors were playing a gig, so I took the girlfriend along to sample their delights.

A ramshackle bunch, I can't remember the precise lineup of the Hector Collectors that night, but Adam the lead singer came and spoke to me after the gig, not cos he recognised me as a popular local music journalist, that came later, but becuase I was the only person at the gig who wasn't friend or family, I was a fan.

The Hectors lineup changed a lot over the years, always revolving round Adam and Iain Smith, but sometimes including folk like Big Gav on drums, Big Duncan on bass, Paul McDermot on bass, Chris Elkin on guitar, Joe Kane and Paul McGaz on backing vocals, Paul Kelly on keyboards or maybe drums and on one occasion Alex Huntley on keyboards. They had a warm fuzzy sound, of the amateur, songs about local fanzines, local crap music venues, staying in at night and surfing the internet. John Peel played them a few times.

Late 2003, Adam gets me to go along to a gig by his other band The Plimptons, playing at The Tchai Ovna. The Plimptons were different, less evolved, more surreal. Songs about not returning video tapes to dead people, and the epic Captain August rock opera. There was just two of them that first night, Adam and Martin. Martin had a red mohawk and piercings, looks like a drunk Big Issue seller. The Plimptons weren't as popular as The Hector Collectors, I wasn't sure why.

Months later my gran had passed away and I'd used her inheritance to buy a CD burner and CD printer, and set up a bedroom record label, Ivan Lendil Music, the first release was my arm slashing music from uni. It was a little crap. I needed a proper band, and so when Adam and Martin dragged me to Strathclyde Uni's Student's Union one night and asked if I'd release their album, I jumped at the opportunity.

The two piece became a three-piece with the addition of Andrew Soares on keyboards, a demo single was made up and sent to local radio and press, a debut album The Songs of Ignorance and of Inexperience was made up and stocked in the local music shops, copies were mailed out to all the music bloggers we knew. A tour was booked in a handful of Motherwell, Glasgow and Edinburgh venues. We had tour t-shirts!!

Andrew Soares was kicked out of the band one night at the Tchai, only to return briefly the following night at Edinburgh Student's Union. my flatmate Alan Wolfknuckle Patterson joined playing bass, Rowan Hackett on drums, and a new keyboard player Craig Pulsar was recruited. Craig lived in Edinburgh, but he had a car, and his keyboard skills were formidable. Adam had known him from the Littlest Album project years before.

My constant pimping of the Plimps was alienating me from internet communities and girlfriends. I got booted off the love of my life Bowlie, disavowing me and my label from an indiepop market.

Ivan Lendil Music had two more bands, The Owsley Sunshine and The Just Joans. The Owsleys were Glasgow psychedelic legends, lead by Joe Kane, they were up to their third or fourth album, it had been recorded and lost and rerecorded countless times before Adam got involved to get it to market. The Just Joans were like the missing link between The Hector Collectors and BallBoy. Bedsit soundtracks that made the hairs on the back of yer neck stand on end. When Adam first passed me their demo tape and I listen to it in my car. I had to stop in a layby, blinded by the tears.

The Just Joans ablum sold out the first run of twenty copies at their debut gig. The Owsley album, I still have a few hundred copies under my bed.

part 2 to follow


1) Who's the American who religiously reads this blog every day? and how much influence do they have here?

2) How do I do an SQL join, where I'm joining a table to itself?

ON "BOMs"."TopLevelPartNo" = "BOMs".PARTNO"

3) Where am I sposed to be going this weekend? What's the plan?

4) How many gigs can I go to this week? All of them?

5) Can I beat my previous best on eBay and get more than £1.20 for a Post-It?

Monday, 26 November 2007

Epiphany, wait... no

I went to bed last night suddenly remembering the pain you've caused, the heartache. I went to bed with fire in my veins. I went to bed remembering fuck that shit, there's no going back and I should never even try.

The big Facebook backlash is starting, Huge McLeod's on about how its crushing under the weight of its own spam and fucking zombies (ooh, rotten corpses), Boingboing's getting a hard on for the social niceties and being unable to reject a friend request from folk you don't like or don't want to be friends with, and there's this big swell about how Facebook's sold out on privacy now their selling all our data to advertisers. All factors that could lead to a neat tipping point.

Where next? Anorak or Twitter?

Hmm, its probably just one of my mood swings and by this afternoon I'll be clicking refresh, gazing at .jpgs and wishing thing'd be like old times.
I there anything I can do to help?

Loves labours lost

I was halfway through testing my sixth Kandy when a sudden burst of rage and jealousy came into my head for loves lost. I am Heathcliffe.

Whilst its madness to dwell on all those who've slipped away, or who I pushed, and it'll lead me to sobbing in dark corners, its still a useful tincture on life's compony.

The guys downstairs here were surprised I was so old and so unmarried and single. I had no answers and no explanation. All I've got is a series of tables, graphs and pie charts, and an undiagnosed bipolar habit of being very open, talkative, charming and kind, and also quiet, snipey, obtuse and evil.

I've started pinging more of these Londonish sex bloggers, I guess its the scene I've staggered into, so I might as well embrace it.

Still kind of pissed off that Reverse Cowgirl embedded one of my post-it animations without any explanation or backlink to the nakedchicks site. Whilst I understand thats the way the internet works, its not exactly courtesy.

Sunday, 25 November 2007

So I've watched almost twenty episodes of Buffy this weekend and its kind of weird. I'm regressing or channelling the mid-nineties. Can't find Julia Roe on Facebook, but on the TV they're doing all teenagery things like watched indian movies in bedrooms late at night cos they're too skint or young to go out and do other stuff.

I'd be so nice to just hang out with lonely souls and do nothing, but alas, I've constructed myself in a way that makes that impossible.

I found Faye on Facebook for maybe the second or third time, but still didn't click the add to friends button, I think I knew about the "Fuck that shit" thing with her years before Idles introduced me to it.

Ooh, ooh, ooh though, I went to the V&A with Axel yesterday and then for food and drinks.

hmm, ice cream on my own

Saturday, 24 November 2007

Here and there

I'm house sitting at Fiona's again. Its nice here, I finally get to watch the Buffy box sets I've been harbouring. My Laundry's on in the kitchen and I have a huge tub of Phish Food.

Managed to get all the Naked Chick Post-its in the post and a few Just Joans CDs, I need to make up some more copies and also select some more Post-Its for eBay.

The chick on Reverse Cowgirl embedded my Vicky Vette animation but without any backlink so I rant about it here.

Natalie's trying to drag me up to Glasgow for my birthday. Now usually I spend my birthday alone in my bedroom, (2005, 2006), but maybe I ought to make an effort.If I head up on the 7th I could catch the Plimps at Pin Up and Robbie might be able to make it out. I wonder who else I can drag out agains their will.

Thursday, 22 November 2007


Very busy and stressful at work, I'm having to force myself into being a manager rather than a hands on engineer. Round peg square hole type problem. I'll get there eventually, I just need to be able to switch from overall big picture to fine detail work quickly, and get someone to help out the turntable guy.

So last night I went along to The Windmill in Brixton for Lostie's Sequins gig. They were pants, but My Sad Captains were yet again London's answer to The Great Money Trick and The Laural Collective who were also playing were fabulous. I'd taken Axelle along with me, its been weeks since we last saw each other. Getting home from Brixton is still a pain in the middle of the night, especially with the underground closing so early.

No review or photies for Last Night From Glasgow Indie Eyespy, my photies are crap, and being the first online the next day doesn't contribute to the betterment of the human race. No scrawled review as my interpretation of the gig is miles out from everyone else, and its awkward.

I saw The Loves the other week, I've been writing and raving about them for eight years now, I've travelled hundreds of miles countless times to see them, but the other week, they were pants, the sound was crap, the execution was pedestrian, the crowd were disinterested, the crowd felt awkward and adversarial unto themselves. Alternatively the consensus on the thread over on Anorak was the complete opposite, it seems I was wrong.

So people reading LNFGIES would get a completely unrepresentative view of the show, the band and the crowd and random readers. Even if I'm honest and just write what I see, its wrong and unjust to the bands on stage and the promoters promoting..

And right now, I don't quite have the backbone to do it in the face of adversity. I don't have the self-belief to write as I see.

Tuesday, 20 November 2007

The solution

Herein lies the problem.

Skipping blissfully into a magical world I life to call real life, where I'm the manufacturing manager for the UK's leading hi-fi manufacturer, and I ask my friendly neighbourhood bunch of frothing at the mouth communist/socialists what I can do to help dismantle the capitalist state, they tell me to fuck off.

Monday, 19 November 2007

Sunday, 18 November 2007


Early phonecall from frere yesterday morning lead me to drive over to visit my niece Amelia and famiy on the coast of Essex today. She's grown a wee bit and it a little bit more sentient than last time. Still obsessed with books, or wanting me to read every book she has. And she keeps coming out with new words that her parents hadn't taught her, weird stuff like knowing Spiderman was on this evening, or the rudiments of the game of Snap.

Driving over was a tunnel of channelling, with no radio in my car, my mind jumped on all it could, the whole Romford thing and going past the church where my brother and Lou got married, was it five years ago, all that business with a girl the first time round. Then I have these fuzzy memories of family stuff, doing uncle duties with a girl sat next too me looking beautiful in Manchester.

I realise that no matter how many times I click refresh, a girl doesn't update her blog, and her photos mean nothing and there's no email and no bowlie, and nothing out there. Maybe I'm just greiving not having anything to play mind games with, but would I?

Maybe Tobin had it right, you should bury the corpses in the walls and run away.

Neat the way the media aren't mentioning much about Tobin's conviction for Angelika Kluk's murder or his previous violent attacks on teenage girls, in respect to the current Brookside plotline-like discovery of bodies at his house.

On the way back to Alperton I fell asleep at the wheel, my car collided with some and left huge dent in one of the wheels. Its kind of shook me up a lot.

Maybe she's in a bad way too and would welcome communicae, coffee and kite-flying. How would I know.

Saturday, 17 November 2007

Crikey the nuddy site has had 50,000 hits this month already. Kind of warm fuzzy feelings but also a feeling of cheating, lowest common denominator crap. Porn, traced. Whilst the stats and the dollar a day from google bring me joy, its a lonely life.

I've spent many hours toda going over in my head all that I've lost, the girls who slipped away for no good reason, or I've pushed away for whatever transient reasons were in my head that day, and no ammount of saying sorry will bring them back into my arms.

Instead I must don my mask once more and stride out into the big dumb-ss world, cease my lurking in the shadows of gigs fearing people, friends and acquaintances, and I must once more become a king of this town.

It took three years in Glasgow, I don't have that kind of time here.
Bidding war for my erotic art over on eBay here, here, here and here.

I am the imagineer, I invoke and I channel, I surf the synchronicities and coincidences.

Yesterday's noticing of Nat's absense from Facebook lead to the arrival of a package today from her, of the post it note pictures I left in Glasgow a month or so ago, along with the sketch that she did of me in bed.

Today I ventured to Brent Cross shopping centre, its the most like Manchester's Arndale Centre I've been in a long while. And if I feel that way, the others would too. There was invokation in the air

Friday, 16 November 2007

Can't seem to find young Nastily on Facebook anymore, I worry a little, but daren't read her blog in case I read something that makes me head do those things.

sPazAmping - Putting yer music collection on random and then commenting on the results, as named by Shoelace

1. Hells Bells - AC/DC
Alan would be proud of so nobel a start point
2. Last Train to Transcentral - The Blue Man Group
Whilst the song sounds just like the KLF original I only know of the Blue Man Group from Arrested Developement the TV series, of which I only know from Nal raving about it and lending me the boxset
3. Raindrops keep fallin on ma heid - manc_ill_kid
I can't remember the name of my old guitar teacher, he taught me it, based on the Manic Street Preachers cover which was a B-side to some Everything Must Go era single. Vaguely recalling that the tape claimed the song was recorded at a live show on some specific date, and halfway through the singing chap forgets the words, whilst when I was at his gig the night before he remembered all the words fine.
4. Pink Flower - Daisy Chainsaw
Each time I see Queen Adreena play live, I see more of Katy-Jane Garside naked. Got muff last time.
5. One by one all day - The Shins
What is this?
6. Sunken - The Village Orchestra
No memory of having heard this before, kind of ethreal and pishy, and long too. More than five minutes
7. Why Won't you talk about it - The Radio Dept
Funnily enough as this song passes, I am talking about it in the Bowlie Chatroom. Rum flows in my veins and I can't feel my toes
8. Annawaltzerpose - Camera Obscura
What ever happened to Camera Obscura's John Henderson? Did Tracy-Anne really murder him and bury his body under the patio? I miss the times when we all used to hang about
9. Rock n Roll Star - Oasis
If I could go back and re-live the past thirteen years, I think I'd hold onto Zee bit tighter, and try not to let go. But shit, apart from that I'd probably do exactly the same things all over again. The same crap bands the same emotional rollercoasters, the same writings. All the same, but just holding onto Zee a little tighter.
10. Feel Good Hit of the Summer - Queens of the Stoneage
11. I hear you calling me - Jonathan Richman



Headmush day again. Weird Facebook dreams like the old Freecell dreams of school, and also this weird
bit in the dream where someone had figured out how to you blue sky as a computer screen, and so there were these huge things in the sky that appeared to be jpgs, not so much floating or projected, but just set as if someone had replaced blue with an image.

Also in my mind was this morning a random channelling of wandering around Chateauherault, god knows how many months ago. There was sunshine and overcast skies, there was lush grassland and green trees, and friends with cameras. So so far away.

Wading through Facebook last night I discovered a startling retroactive invokation. While my Rotten Corpses song was written self-consciously ambiguous and unspecific to give me a warm blanket of denial, it seems, the girl in my head was at a gig I was at, and I didn't see her, but she may have seen me. Instead, I lurked at the back with my notebook and camera thinking to myself how much it was like the mid-nineties and Manchester, how right I was.

Nothing planned for this weekend. Chris needs new shoes and a selection of new jackets. More knockbacks being added to the list. An old friend did get in touch about going out, but after several bad experiences I realise I'm desperate, but not that much.

Compare and contrast:-

a) Tracking down local ex-girlfriends on Facebook
b) Tracking down local retired pornstars on Facebook

Thursday, 15 November 2007

New IQ test

Hi there all you Chris Gilmour IQ fans, and I know there's one or two of you from all the traffic from google. I just took thing claiming to be the European IQ test. Only twenty minues for this one, but seems easy enough.

This time my IQ was 138, which along with the distracted one from uni and the Facebook IQ test gives me an average of 118.

An underlying thing about internet IQ tests is that they're mostly taken by people in the developed world who've had a decent education and are computer literate and who know they'll get a good score.


Its getting like this

Tuesday, 13 November 2007

Money-making schemes

Latest money-making scheme from Chris Gilmour Enterprises - selling my Post It Note erotic art on ebay.

Bidding starts at 50p, feel free to have a punt here

Sunday, 11 November 2007

Six Song Set

Six Song Set in his bedroom with his guitar gazing at the camera
So I was at this gig last night, feeling all shy and awkward, putting down these feeling to the events of the past three years. Fighting the urge to get out my notebook and scribble notes.

I waited until halfway through the fourth band, started listening to the lyrics, felt less than I dd when I was feeling awkward and shy and ran away home.

Here, camped in my bedroom, I watched the film Cashback, felt less pervy about spending so much time drawing nekkit chicks, and then scribbled a list of band names. I want to be in a band, or on stage, pretending to live some life. I want to be in a band I've never heard of, who'll only play one show and then vanish, leaving some kind of scar or memory. The Royal We have split already and last night I missed catching Patrick's new band, Correcto at The Buffalo But at the same time I wonder, what happened to the band he had with Andy formerly of Bricolage, did they ever end get a name, and what happened to Glam Job?

So Sunday morning, trapped in my room with narly the internet for company, I penned my first new song in almost two years. The song is called Rotten Corpses and I'm calling the band/act/stage name "Six Song Set". Still need to come up with anoth four songs.

Anyhoo, the songs is downloadable from here

I wrote it whilst staring at my bookcase, so the lyrics are :

I learnt Python for Dummies,
And I taught myself SQL,
Now I program databases,
But I've forgotten how to spell.

So I moved to London City,
Starting a new life in this town,
Digging up rotten corpses,
Trying to see if you're still around.

I write songs about you in my bedroom,
Its really small and gets cold at night.
I thought I'd see you at a concert.
Maybe I won't, but you might.

You still surf the internet,
You'll read something and get annoyed.
Did I do that on purpose?
Maybe we're just paranoid.

The chords for the verse are GDCC x4
And for the chorus its like FGAmAm x2 FGEE FGCC

I think the song is more engineered than written. The computing references at the start are a bit MJ Hibbettish to be disarming, then I saw my London A to Z to start the chorus, calling it London City as Alan did when the Wolfknuckles last played. I think the 'rotten corpses' refers to old friends I haven't seen in years, but it could just as much be disparaging about ex-girlfriends, kind of self-destructive for me to use it, more so that that's where I got the song name from. Then on the last line of the chorus is the first use of the word "you", suggesting I'm writing this song for/to someone, picking up on this in the second verse, although its kind of a lie. This is the first song I've written in years, I probably meant to say blog entries, but that wouldn't fit. Again, being disarming by talking about my bedroom in the second line, rather than following the interest about "you". Now with the concert thing, I am people who goes to concerts, and maybe "you" are too. The last verse, fuck, that could be about anyone, but its a little too self-referential given this blog post, for a more detailed discussion on the subject, read this.

Luckily my ennunciation in the song is so crap most of this will be lost on any listener.

If any gig promoters are reading this, Six Song Set are available for gigs across teh UK.

Also, if you, reader blog reader/random visitor really want to help, you could go over to and approve the photie for Six Song Set here

Friday, 9 November 2007

Website of the day


Type commands into the box and the three skimply dressed women do it. Favourites include "wave", "wash car", "dance" and "show pussy"

Of replies

Whilst her overriding memory is of me shouting at her at a party, mine is of walking hand in hand with her through Elysian fields and halcyon days.

Kind of the same as me having no recollection of the worst memories Leanne as of 2000, or just my memory of the event is different.

Shrug, and keep striding onwards I guess.
My internet access at home was off last night, and it seems to be a good thing. I couldn't spend my whole night clicking refresh, refresh, refresh.

Instead I went to the supermarket and after a few dizzy spells and steadying myself on the grocery stand, I actually bought food, and vaguely healthy stuff too. Well, sufficient for three portions of fruit/veg a day, rather than my one portion and a Mars Bar that I've been living on.

Also, excitement last night as I draw lots of nuddy women pics with the vague idea of an experiment. If I put up a new picture every hour on the other site, will it draw an order of magnitude more traffic than usual? I did one picture using pencil crayons too. Pushing the envelope, see.

Alas I arrived at work this morning and got online to find a reply from an ex- from a decade ago. She's right, my unpleasant nuances haven't changed and still cause me relationship problems. Exactly the same things with countless other ex-s. I thougth I'd changed in the ten, eleven, twelve years, but I haven't. Its weird like that.

Thursday, 8 November 2007

FFS why can't SQL do heirarchy tree things easily?

I don't care if its a recursive join. I can easily write a three column list, (id, part number, parent) all my parts and all their depenancies and with duplicate lines, and I can easily, by hand, layout the damned heirarchy tree ting, so why does the entire internet database admin community not have an easy bit of cut and paste SQL code that'll do it for me.

I've got 3GHz of speed, 1Tb of hard disk memory and 2Gb of RAM, it shouldn't matter if there are five levels of recursion or a hundred, this damned 'puter should figure it out in a few seconds and display it.

Lazyweb, help me!!



Wednesday, 7 November 2007

I am... Pron-Ninja

Once again, webcomics depict my way of life

Alas, even as I write here, my post it note pron site is getting more and more plaudits from across the blogsphere. One day someone interesting from real life will reach out cos of it, one day. I'm in the top 500,000 most popular blogs in the world now, only 499,999 to go. Boing Boing must be quaking in their boots.

Christmas comes early

Currently dying of loneliness in the evenings, no one's online, I know no one nearby in this town, anyone I do know ain't answering their phone. I need to get off the internet, but its all I've got. Anyone I know online is out drinking with their friends and making new friends.

...must dig myself out...

I was going to do NaNoWriMo this year, and my head and subconscious have been working overtime on ideas and weird stuff, pilots having nervous breakdowns, and crashing into things that aren't there, triggering a chain of events which makes all electricity stop working for an hour or so, but it turns out it was juts the mobile phone network in a small area, but people got scared. Some computer scientist tryingto figure out what it was the plane crashed into, a world reknowned scientist infact, the bloke who created the E programming language which is used in everything from mobile phones to kettles and air-conditioners, very good mates with Stan Lee apparently. Flatmate was starting a new band, lots of guitar distortion pedals, but in a basement flat there was a party going on which we gatecrashed. And all the time people are realising that they live in a post-apocolyptic world, they just took a while to readjust their understanding of what the apocalypse looked like, its everything you see on the news.

Christmas comes early as the postman delivers a CD from Russian Spy Camera, some American band who sound like Franz Ferdinand 2 should have sounded like, and also from Amazon, I have a 320Gb portable hard disc, should be useful for getting all the MP3s off of my old PC. Whilst the storeage capacity is huge, its only an order of magnitude and a half away from the golden 8Tb capacity that's required for the singularity.

I read somewhere that 8Tb is enough to record DVD quality footage for a year. If you can get a drive that that big and portable, you could hook it up to a portable digital camera and record your life for a year, you wouldn't have to remember anything. Any book you read, any note you write and song you here, everything for a year. With OCR software and that music recognition software and a bit of ingenuity, that's what the singularity is all about.

Alas, I'm still stuck in my bedroom wondering why folk I haven't seen in months and last time we met was really bad, aren't reciprocating, and I'm still lurking at the back of gigs for bands I don't care about, unable to talk to anyone else.

I think I'm basically dead.

Tuesday, 6 November 2007

Crikey its warm, and I've used my skills at work for once. I phoned up a supplier querying a quality issue, and we worked it through and found a solution that decreased his build time and improved quality and reduced build time and storage space at this end too. The sun, it shines.

Last night was rather jolly, well, I ploughed the depths for a few hours, resorting to trying to watch Buffy Season 1 played at 7/8 speed, something to do with the DVD drive on my laptop. Almost sobbing in frustration, I need to acquire a DVD player and TV at some point when I have the space and the inclination.

At the moment I've ordered a 250gb portable hard drive so I can port all the mp3s from my old PC to any other computer in one swoop.
It was late when the landlord dragged me downstairs to eat party food and join them for firework lighting, but jolly good fun. Holding roman candles and firing rockets at each other, lighting catherine wheels and using them as frizbees.

Kind of like back in '94 with Binny and Jim Ashton round Worsley Woods. One or two flashbacks of '97 in the woods round Inverness with the Royal Engineers too.

Monday, 5 November 2007


How? How? How? How can I have insomnia last night with all thoughts going through my head, only to find that xkcd has, once again, done a comic that neatly resolves it.

Luckily I still have 1995 to draw from. That Boo Radleys refrain "You'll never touch the magic if you don't reach out far enough", it went through my head for years. Did I reach out far enough?

And gnawing my way back into them last night ramblings, can I reach in?
Gah, ma heid's mince this morning. Dizzy spells and paranoia at work. Could be sleep deprivation or my turn at only eating Mars Bars during the weekend, and lack of human contact.

Bit of a crazy rant last night, but it did my a world of good. I gotta find people in real life, not finding people online to meet in real life, and be damned those who do.

Sunday, 4 November 2007

Betty Page

Gah, intense bout of insomnia.

You know how sometimes you read so see something that does your head and makes you feel sick and adles your emotions, well I can do that to myself with my eyes shut.

I found myself at a loose end on Sunday night, well, the whole weekend was a loose end, but with laundry done and three hours to kill I set to work doing an animationy thing, its what I do, and fed up with rifling through pron, I found some videos of folk dancing and Betty Page prancing.

The music, I couldn;t quite decide which obscure up and coming indie band to gift five thousand viewers to, so I hopped to Last.FM and picked the last thing any friend had listened to, The Besties.

Sometime on Monday I need to post the video up on my post it note nuddy site, along with words. So in my head this dark November night is Betty Page, and The notorious Betty Page the film what I saw in Edinburgh and those times and those feelings. Christ, someone off of the internet, what chance did I have, being in real life and all that. Folk off of the internet, you only see the weeest fraction of so your heid makes up the rest on its own, the internet words hint at one thing one trait and your head fills in the rest compared to reality, where what you get is what you get. Sometimes your heid gets it right, and sometimes it doesn't. But the only way to be sure is to rust reality.

What am I getting at?

And why did drawing thirty or so picture of Betty Page fill me with anger towards David Kitchen?

Something to do with monkeyspheres.

The human brain has a monkey sphere of about 150 people. Thats how big your tribe cane before before you start writing off people as them and us, before you pigeonhole people and forget them or disabuse them.

You can say "fucking students" or "fucking forign folk" and not count the ones who you actually know or are friends with, cos they're in yer monkeysphere and 'the rest aren't. If you're inside a messagebaord then you're inside the monkeysphere of everyone on it no matter how far away they are, or how close they've been. It makes it so much easier to forget.

And so the rage, for being excluded from the monkey sphere of those who were once so close, and no matter how hard you fight and how hard you try, youre still fighting harder and trying harder than those on the inside have to. And its so much easier to appear to slip away.

God knows what the academics ave to say about folk who force their way into your monkeysphere, but I bet there a classication for them. Its just rude, its not pleasant. But Its not their choice. I as just trying to stay alive, to stay friends.

Time passes and I wonder if I can ever get back.

I still can't sleep, I just see video clips, youtube ones that stop to buffer every feew seconds. I've had no human contact all weekend, and even the Loves, The School, The Fischers show wa a lonely experience. I can't type up my notes from it, it doesn't do justice, whatever the gig was like for peple there, wasn't what I saw.

I saw cider drinkers feining taking photos of each other, but actually taking pictures of one of these folk I know off of the internet, without him seeing. No good can come of this.
Even more accolades for these damned clips. This one is seven seconds long and now has these badges of honour

  • #6 - Most Viewed (Today) - Film & Animation - United Kingdom
  • #72 - Most Viewed (This Week) - Film & Animation - United Kingdom
  • #17 - Most Linked (Today) - United Kingdom
  • #2 - Most Linked (Today) - Film & Animation - United Kingdom
  • #54 - Most Linked (Today) - Film & Animation
  • #10 - Most Linked (This Week) - Film & Animation - United Kingdom

I can't win. The gig review website vanishes into obscurity, but the raging success of a pron site is depressingly bland. There's got to be more to life than this. But alas, there isn't, I've checked, I've searched, I've been there. Whatever it is out there is invisible to me. I stand in the shadows with scales over my eyes and my ears.
Oh crikey

How many boxes must I tick to not feel so alone? Is my problem that I'm not having the conversations, I'm just shouting and waving my arms about. Or trying to talk to the wrong people.
Not just me then,

But others too

Saturday, 3 November 2007

Oh thank fuck, something of interest

Cyanide and Happiness has gone all xkcd on our asses.
Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @

Usually his style is different

Almost reminds me of when I did my own tribute

Falling again.

Gah, I've been in bed all day so far surfing the net. Last night's Loves and School gig was a quiet and lonely affair for me, I spoke to no one, drank two pints of Guiness and headed home. I need some friends.
The School 09
Over in the land of overflowwing success, the post it note website got over 5,000 hits yesterday and one of my You Tube videos has over 2000 views in the past 24 hours, christ, its just 21 frames looped, with some random music soundtrack. Its cheating.

Alas, I can't bring myself to type up the scrawled notes of last night's gig for the knowledge that the pron get a hundred times as many hits is crushing.

No gigs this evening and no positive responses to texts and messages.

I need chocolate, lots of chocolate, possibly salad too to balance it, and a collection of Buffy DVDs.

Why's there no one to watch it with?

My Facebook friendslist is just relics from the past, folk hundreds of miles away and years back.

Must resist the urge to read blogs, they either haven't been updated or there are people having lives without me.

I have the energy and the talent, why am I so bored. Where's my guitar.

Even if I pick up the guit and record something, what's there to do, no gigs, no listeners, no interest. No point.

Right, shower, clothes, shop, chocolate

Thursday, 1 November 2007

Its one of those busy days at work again. There was an unexpected delivery this morning so we've been runing about trying to re-jig all the stores without it affecting production.

I just want to sit back with my 'puter and work on the database thing, type up last night's gig, pimp the new Plimptons video and check Facebook every few minutes to see if she's replied. Its not quite the worst thing she can do if she says "no", far worse is just ignoring.

The Plimpton video has received a couple of honours over on youTube
  • #11 - Most Viewed (Today) - Film & Animation - United Kingdom
  • #57 - Most Linked (Today) - United Kingdom
  • #4 - Most Linked (Today) - Film & Animation - United Kingdom
  • #25 - Most Linked (This Week) - Film & Animation - United Kingdom
Doesn't it make you proud

Still fun and excitement over on the drawings site three thousands hits yesterday, the same today already. I've had to adapt my style a wee bit, more writing and each picture has to have a title that stands out against the backdrop of other erotic writings blogs and photies.

School tonight and tomorrow too. I love those post-Loves motown sparkly bands.