Tag Archives: Brick Lane

They stole bike, they stole my shoes.


I come to you with extremely sad news.  My bike, my lovely shiny new bike has been stolen.  It happened a couple of weeks ago but I’ve been too upset to tell you about it.  I popped for a couple Whiskey Sours with Gem Dog and Jimbo, came out and it’d gone.  Just wandered up and down for a bit on Mare St.  Not quite sure why.   I wasn’t sure what you’re supposed to do when someone nicks your stuff.

I’ve only ever had one other meaningful possession stolen from me before this.  They were a pair of black suede Air Jordan high tops when I was about 12.  I had them at the back end of my spiffy jeans phase in about 1995, I loved them.  They made me look like a right cool mother.

They were the one of the things that in hindsight I feel quite guilty about even having owned; no not because they’re absolute rascals!  My folks never had much money when we were growing up and I pestered my Mum for weeks to get them, probably making her feel really guilty and generally being prepubescent little shit to get my way.  Mum told me that if my Dad asked how much they cost I had to tell him they were on sale and were £30.  He did ask, I told him they were £30, he wasn’t happy, he argued with my Mum.  They were actually £60.

I’ve been thinking about stuff like that alot recently.  I’m sure I was no worse than any other teenager wanting what the other kids had, but now when I really understand the value of money it makes me cringe thinking about what a strain I must’ve put on my parents.

My Dad worked 12 hour shifts as a mechanic and would get up to do private work after 5 hours sleep pretty much everyday.  Mum worked as a dinner lady and done some cleaning when we were young for the extra cash.  £60 was probably a weeks food shopping for the five of us.

I never realised what a big deal a pair of £60 trainers would be for us back then.  I remember her craftily colouring in the scuff marks on the toes with a black marker pen when I came in from playing football in them one day.  She’d always give them a once over with the suede brush when I took them off and they must’ve had about 4 cans of suede proofer used on them in their short life.  All delaying tactics for the next instalment of bitching and whining and another £60 we couldn’t really afford.

Then one day on the way home from school some bigger boys from one of the rough estates stopped me and my mate and demanded our shoes.  We’d heard about some kids from the other secondary school having their shoes nicked but just thought it was one of those bullshit stories like getting your head flushed down the toilet or that film where the woman gets shagged by a horse and licked out by a cow.

So yeah.  They gave me a punch in the side of the head (made my ear bleed) and took my trainers.  It had been raining and I remember people in cars slowing down to look at the chubby ginger kid crying and pulling his soggy socks up at the side of the road.  All I could think about was my Mum meticulously colouring in the scuff marks and how up-set she would be if she found out I they had been stolen.

I recall walking in the back door of the house, my wet socks slapping against the vinyl flooring.  I walked straight up to my room, lay face down on my bed and cried for about an hour.

I never told my Mum about what happened to those trainers.  I told her that I left them somewhere.  She shouted at me, probably thinking I had chucked them as I didn’t want them any-more.  I cried again.

When I told Mum about my bike she offered to give me some money for a new one.  I am 27 and have a vaguely professional career.  I’m still her little soldier.  When I put the phone down I thought about my Mum and my Nike Air Jordan’s.

I love my Mum.

I did a similar thing after walking home from having my bike stolen, walked through the front door, lay face down on my bed and cried.

HA!  I didn’t really!  Me!? Cry!? Don’t be a prick.  I drank half a bottle of brandy and watched Babestation.

RnR.

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Bestival – Gem Dog’s wee hole


I'd She Wee on his head. I'd She Shit on his head.

The plan was to do loads of Bestival posts last week, but between you and me I’ve been struggling.  I’ve felt progressively worse every day since last Tuesday.  I was pretty sure  I’d be dead by today.

I’m not though.  Look! Here I am! Hello!  I feel much better now, thanks for asking.

There’s too many black holes holes in my memory to be able take you through our weekend as it happened, so what I thought I’d do is just post stuff as/when they come back to me.

One of the first things  I had written in my notebook that came to mind was:

“Gemdog and her wee hole”

Because girls are such dirty little buggers and piss everywhere when they go toilet, they have to hover above the seat when they have a wee otherwise they’ll get other people’s slash all over their bum-cheeks.  It must be an awful strain on their legs.  I think that’s why a lot of girls have such big thighs.

Gemdog brought a thing called a “she wee” with her so that she could have a wee standing up like a civilised human man.  We had a bit of trouble figuring out which way round it went but then Lewy said that “It don’t go that way round, underneath is where ya wee ‘ole is”.  He is very bright and we managed to work it out.

I thought the “She Wee” was a very good idea but one of the other girls with us didn’t think it would work because you couldn’t control how fast your wee came out and it would go all over your hands.

I don’t think this girl wee’d like normal people.  I think she had a sort of trap door wee hole where you pulled a cord and it all came gushing out at once.  Kind of like on Noel’s House Party when all those bent heads get gunged…’cept it weren’t gunge it was pissssssssss.

The same girl also gave some bloke a blowjob down an alley way in Torremolinos with a kebab in one hand and the cock in the other.

She also wanks at work and everyone at work knows that she wanks at work, so when she comes back from having a wank at work all the boys at work sniff their fingers.  I said to her “how do the boys know you wank at work?”.  She said “because I always go in the disabled toilet coz it’s got a full length mirror”……..”and I told them that I wank at work”.

She was very nice but made me a bit uneasy.

Bye bye.

RnR xx

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We went on a lovely trip – Part 1


I have a feeling that this post could end up being pretty epic. If like me, you have a tendency to scroll down the page before you start reading anything, do not be deterred…..it’ll all be worth it.  Believe.

Right then.  Me and the tart and Lewy Pooey and his horse hound all headed down to Dorset the other weekend in aid of Pooey’s birfdee.

Day 1 of our activities began on the Saturday:

We all jumped in the Almera and headed off.  To get where we were going we had to get on the Studland chain ferry.  I was very excited.  I was a bit sad that the crossing wasn’t a bit longer as it looked like it would be a thrilling trip, but when we got out onto the huge expanse of ocean I was glad that it wasn’t too far as the water was SO choppy I thought that we might all perish.  Luckily the captain was very experienced and he managed to save us from certain death.

Artist impression

Whilst we were crossing Gemdog informed us that Studland has the most popular nudist beach in the UK.  Luckily it was quite cloudy and a touch windy so we didn’t see any cocks or fanny’s.  Phew!  YUK!

To celebrate not seeing an old boys old boy, we stopped off at this big hairy pub and had a drink.  I had a pint of ale because I am a big strong man.  The tarts had a half and Lewy had a pint of 7% cider because he is sensible and was driving.

It is a very lovely pub isn’t it?  Lewy wanted some cash-back.  They were very accommodating and said he could have as much as he wanted.  He got £50.

Whilst in the garden we decided to get a picture of birthday boy and his TWO new camera’s.  Luckily Gem dog has an I-Groan, otherwise we would’ve had to take brass rubbing of his face.  Which would’ve been ridiculous! We didn’t even have any crayons!!

Lewey was wearing his new trousers.  He loved them he did.  He kept rubbing his legs and saying how nice they felt.  It made me feel awkward.  Like when you can’t stop thinking about wanking and you’re in the same room as your Nan.

After our drinks we headed down to the sea, where I skimmed stones and everyone on the beach watched in awe.  My technique is second to none.  We also wrote “HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEWIS” in the sand.  I drew some balloons around the text to liven it up a bit.  The bird said they were shit.  She always has to go a ruin and nice moment.  We went back to the car because she had fucked everything up!….and it was a bit chilly.

I think the balloons are alright.....

Back in the Almera we made our way to Swanage.  I had never been to Swanage, but my old school chums went there on a field trip.  My mate told me that it was one of the best weeks of his life.  I was very excited!

Not a little slapper in sight 😦

I had been told it was utopia of slags and 4 litre bottles of cider, imagine my disappointment then when we were greeted by a 1940’s street party!  Gutted.  Still, there was a 40 something woman singing “Johnny be Good” and she had massive fun bags.   Rough with the smooth I ‘spose.

We went to the arcade and tried to make our fortune.  I think those 10p slot machines where you try and win more 10p’s are AMAZING!  Now they’ve even put five pound notes and jewellery in there with them.  It’s like a little bit of Vegas right in Dorset.  While we were there Lewy and Gem dog won these guys.  I had my sunglasses nicked.  Everyone’s a winner!

I also bought a pair of 80’s brown Clarks loafers from Help the Aged.  I got a great deal at £6.99.  In London they would’ve been at least £30.  Although I did feel bad because vintage shops in London only charge so much because they like to give much more money to charity than those Dorset bastards!  I shall write a cheque for the difference to Beyond Retro.

We said our goodbyes to Swanage with a 99 and headed on towards Corfe Castle.

This is Corfe Castle.   We planned on walking up and taking a look around but none of us could be fucked and they were taking six quid.  That’s a couple of beers down there so we went to the pub to relax.

Corfe Castle is in Wareham. Gem dog told us that Enid Blyton based Noddy’s toy town on Wareham.  It had a little steam train and everything.  I really liked these that were in all the shops.  I especially liked it when I saw a little boys parents buying him one as a souvenier….awwwwww.

The tart tried to convince me that me that Enid Blyton was a bit of racist.  She’s a wolly!

When we got home Gem Dogs Mum said that the village shop at Corfe Castle had been on Mary Queen of shops that week.  It was pretty strange as we had bought some stuff from there.  Mary is good at her job obviously.  I was a bit gutted we missed Mary.  I definitely would.

Yum yum yum.

In the evening we went to Poole harbour.  We sat and had a glass of Rose and watched a drunk girl get taken away by the police.  She asked the policemen what she was “sposed ta ‘ave done”, they said “you know what happened”, “no I don’t” came the reply.  You “headbutted her didn’t you”.  “Oh”.

We moved on.  Loads of people were dressed as pirates a bit further on which was FUN!  Nice old style pirates I mean, the ones that say “arrrgghhh me hearty” and that.  Not those mad brown ones with speed boats and machine guns who say “give me your boat or I shoot dis woman in her face.  They’re awful they are those ones.

The highlight of the day for the girls was when we were in the taxi and “Nelly – Ride wit me” came on.  Me and Lewy Poeey absolutely fucking smashed it mate.  Taxi driver was lovin’ it!

If you wanna go and get high wit me
Smoke a L in the back of the Benz-y
Oh why must I feel this way? (Hey, must be the money!)

Ok.  So we’re only at day 1 and day 2 was better than day 1.  I think I’ll have to do this in two parts.

Still to come in part 2…..a treasure hunt…..deserted towns….wrong turns…..nitrous oxide……..military testing and our 1st McFlurry in 4 years.

Hold tight!!

RnR!!

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The Creators Project – Battles – United Visual Artists


Where have you been I hear you cry!?

Well….the thing is…..sometimes I’m so busy being fucking brilliant in the real world that I forget about you lot……that and I’ve just recently discovered Mario Kart.  It’s been taking up an awful lot of my time it has.

Granted I might be about 10 years behind you geeky fucks that have to buy everything as soon as it comes out, but I’m absolutely all over this shit.  I’ve kind of mastered up to the Star Cup at 150cc and now I’m trying to use different characters other than Mario.

I’m finding it a bit difficult adjusting my style to fit the others attributes to be honest.   Peach is a bit too lightweight for my aggressive technique.  Bowser is very cumbersome.  Yoshi, Toad and Luigi look/sound like utter cock sticks…….and don’t even get me started on Donkey Kong.  I can’t bear that cunt.

I was going to attempt a video blog on it, but after filming myself playing, the only footage was essentially me repeatedly screaming: “SLAG“…..”SHIT“……”FUCK“……”ARSEHOLE“….and leaning so far out of shot to try and get round a corner that it was pretty much useless.  Vaguely amusing, but useless.

I decided to show you this instead.  Battles have been one of my favourites for a long time now.  Their gig at The Astoria was not only the best gig I went to in 2008, but one of my best full stop.

The combination of the music and the lighting is something else.  I’m never quite sure who knocks up the visuals for shows like theirs.  I assumed (rather stupidly) that the band themselves would pull it together.  Especially now with people having alot more technology at their disposal.  This landed in my in-box this afternoon and now all is clear.

United Visual Artists have worked on a number of things for Battles and Massive Attack, as well as art installations and shows for fashion houses such as Y3.

All of their stuff is pretty mind-blowing, but it’s the work with Battles really works for me.  To totally “get” what they are about and come up with something so perfect for the sound is no mean feat.  They do it fucking brilliantly.

This is one of my fav tunes and if you watch the video you’ll completely understand what I mean about the synergy between audio/visual.

Vodpod videos no longer available.

I won’t leave it so long between posts this time.  I’m off to Dorset this weekend for Lewy Pooey’s birthday.  He’s a bit of a prat so he’ll probably give me plenty of fuel for all of our amusement.

Easy

RnR

more about “The Creators Project – Battles – Uni…“, posted with vodpod

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Bare Bones – issue 3


“LAST NIGHT’S TAXI DRIVER, TOMORROW’S LOVER”

Coming to you from the cleverest, most handsomest, most loveliest and most bestest scribbler in all of the land (that’s my buddy Harry Malt for those of you too bloody stupid to not know already) is the imminent release of Bare Bones issue 3.

Now I’ve told you about this loads before but it’s getting better and better and bigger and bigger.  They’ll again be knocking out 90 A5 prints from the 30 featured artists, all for the meagre sum of twenty squids…….I’ll be looking to replace the two that bird of mine seems to have lost since the issue 2 run.

To launch they’ll again be exhibiting at the Nue Gallery near Brick Lane from 1st April and running until….I don’t know…..a bit after that…..a couple of weeks….a month….fuck knows.  It’s really worth getting yourselves along at some point though.

The paper will be available to download sometime after the 1st.  Probably when Malt recovers from the his inevitable fools hangover.  Should anyone out of London (or the local lazy’s) want a physical copy, I’ll grab you one and send it on….fuck it….I’ll even pick up the postage.  Nice guy I am.

You can download Bare Bones issue 2 here – after felching and Gerbilling vids, it’s probably the best thing you could get from the interweb…..and it won’t get you in trouble with the missus…unless she loves Maggie Thatcher and deplores banana mutilation….in which case you should probably fuck her off anyway.  Silly cow.

Perhaps I’ll see you there.  Perhaps I’ll talk to you…..but probably not.

Now piss off.

RnR.

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Foals – Total Life Forever


I like Foals.  Have done since I, along with the rest of the world, got hold of their demo’s.  There was a bit of a wait for the debut album, unfortunately in that time they were so hyped they were never going to meet expectations.  Poor bastards.  I liked Antidotes.  Really liked it in-fact.  Even if the production left a little to be desired.

This new album is brave.  Moving away from the fast paced punchyness that got them so many fans, they’ve gone for a much more downbeat approach in Total Life Forever.  What I’ve heard I’ve really liked.  The first single Spanish Sahara is just starting to hit the play-lists….well….on 6music anyway.  It’ll probably be on Radio 1 in about August (we really don’t need 6 Music anymore do we!).  It’s ace.  Really fucking ace.

Ok, so the atmospheric spaceyness vibe seems a bit on trend what with The XX & Animal Collective albums doing so well last year, but so what.  It’s complicated, it’s layered, it’s intelligent and it’ll take time to really appreciate.  All good things in my eyes.

It’ll be keeping the lovers of immediate Kasabian type dross at bay……hopefully.  A gain in popularity whilst retaining credibility isn’t an easy thing to do.  I think they’ll manage it.  The average Joe wants more than a tub thumper now days.  Don’t they?

If they can follow up the album with good live performances, I think they’ve got the potential to make some pretty big strides in 2010.  I’m right behind them

Check it!

RnR

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Mallorca Rocks! Ummm. No. No it doesn’t.


Incredible to believe I did this in paint.

I’ve made no secret of my dislike for The Kooks.  In some respects it’s perhaps a bit unfair.  They’re no worse than alot of other bands you would stick in their category.  A quick look at the “customers who bought this item also bought” on Amazon brings up one of the most depressing lists I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Joseph Fritzels charge sheet:  The Fratellis, Hard-Fi, Razorlight, The Zutons, The View, The Feeling……..yadda yadda yadda.

I’ve got nothing against people who like Pop.  Pop in the modern sense of the word I mean, we’re not talking The Beatles here.  The Pussycat Dolls and all that.  They’re clearly not after anything from their music other than a bit of a sing-a-long and a good time.  Fair enough, nothing wrong with that.  Once or twice a year even I like to have a good time.  No, not to The Pussycat Dolls.  Well, unless they’re on T4 gyrating round something or other with their tits out, but even then I’ve got the volume right down so I can listen for my bird coming up the stairs *wank wank* *wink wink*.

It’s when the folk who wouldn’t listen to anything other than funky house one minute all of a sudden claim to be really “into bands”.  Nothing to do with you seeing someone in Heat at a festival wearing wellies, denim hot pants and a fucking stupid straw hat and thinking you’d like a bit of that then?  Oh no, course not.  Who are you looking forward to seeing?  Snow Patrol huh?  Cool, for a second there I thought you were just jumping on the band wagon.

I wouldn’t mind if they said; “oh I like The Kooks because I love a catchy tune” and “I like festivals because it’s fashionable”, but they don’t.  They insist on saying that they’re “indie kids”.   Don’t even get me started on “indie”.  At what point did it lose it’s meaning and become a byword for a genre of music that’s just as full of generic big label, mass marketed shite as that show with Kylie’s Sister and ‘er from Girls Aloud?

Again...paint! I know! Incredible.

The Kooks and them rest of ’em are just filler.  They were signed up quickly by record execs so they could cash in from the huge surge of dickheads that called anyone who liked a band at school a “greebo” but now want an excuse to buy a cow print tent.

Anyway.  I digress.  The point of this post was this…..I read this week that there’s to be another branch of Ibiza Rocks.  This one however is going to be called Mallorca Rocks and it’s going to be in the salubrious surroundings of Magaluf.  The Kooks are playing the opening gig.  I for one can’t wait.  I’ve been waiting since 1999 to go back, this is the perfect excuse to get the boys back together for not only a week of furious fingering like last time, but also some really great tunes!

I was listening to someone from the band talking about it on the radio yesterday.  Probably the curly haired one, I dunno.  He had this sad resignation in his voice.  Like the V Festival was The Kooks girlfriend.  She was quite stupid and didn’t really have much about her, but she was quite hot.  Now she’s given them the elbow and they’re back on the market.  They’ve tried it on with a few nice looking birds, but they’ve all told them to fuck off.  They’re gradually realising that they’d been punching above their weight and now they’re having to settle for the grubby fat chick that is Magaluf.

There’s nothing like being forced by your label to go out to some massive Spanish shit hole and have your “hits” be the soundtrack to glassings and chlamydia.

Good on yer lads!

Maga!

RnR

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