Tag Archives: girls

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 2


Right I’ll jump straight in.

Day 2 was Lewy’s actual birfdee, after the excitement of a very well prepared treasure hunt, we all sang happy birthday and cut the cake. Lewy got all embarrassed. He said he didn’t like being the centre of attention, which is utter bull-cum if you ask me. He spends most of his life with his guns out and wearing pink trainers.

For a guy in his mid 20’s he got a disproportionate amount of meerkat themed gifts. They’re his favourite animal you see. Personally I prefer elephants, sloths and alpaca’s, but then I’m a proper geezer.

Horse hounds Mummy done us proud yet again with a wonderful picnic, and we all headed off on another road trip.

This time our destination was a little place called Tyneham. The village had to be evacuated “temporarily” in 1943 so that the surrounding 7,500 acres of land could be used for military testing during WWII. The village still remains; although as the area continues to be used for testing, it only operates as an attraction………when they’re not blowing shit up.

The old school still stands with examples of students work, the old piano, clothes pegs etc:

It’s a bit like my old Comprehensive in Essex really. I imagine if kids were still there they’d be calling the teachers slags, the boys would be trying to finger girls during English and the birds would be stuffing tissue in their bras and look like they’d been shot in the face with a make-up gun.

This is the church. I’m Catholic and go to church every week. Those people who think that human people evolved from monkeys ‘n’ all that are fucking mental. God created EVERYTHING in 6 days and stuck his feet up on Sunday to watch Eve get her baps out in that garden.

The plan was to follow our walking map on a 3 mile stroll up the hill, find a nice spot, eat our nosh and roll back. Here we are exuberantly setting off. Take note of the yellow markers and “Military Firing Range. Keep Out” sign. They were later to be our downfall.

You may be able to just about make out the rocky and frankly treacherous terrain. We were ill equipped. Apart from Gem Dog who was wearing very sensible pink Chuck Taylors. She’s such a country bumpkin!

Now. We made it to the top of the hill despite my leathered soled brogues and the birds plimsoles. Although I did nearly sprain my ankle a couple of times 😦

This is the spot we picked to bust out the picnic. I’ll tell you what. Sitting up there with that view and a bit of pork pie is probably my idea of heaven. I bloody love pork pie. If Gem Dogs Mum had been there at that point I would have kissed her face.

Again I’ve helpfully marked out our route, only this time we left the map reading to the two tarts. So instead of heading down to this beautiful little cove, having a bit of a paddle and then back down to the village, they decided it would be better for us to carry on walking along the cliffs.

Don’t get me wrong, the cliffs were amazing, but I’m not exactly Hasslehoff. I burn under the lights at work. Spending more than 12 minutes outside in anything warmer than 16 oC is going to end in tears. It might not look that far this route but IT WAS VERY HILLY.

We were pretty tired but luckily Gem Dog brought along some nitrous oxide so we all sat down and had a couple of balloons half way down.

She’s always thinking that girl. Some of the idiots we walked past had water and back-packs. Fucking dicks.

When we got to the bottom we saw a beach. Brilliant. We can have a paddle and and head back along the sea. It’ll be wonderful.

Nope!

Now by this time we were all pretty tired and slightly heady from the sun and laughing gas. We sat down and worked out that we were still about 5 miles from the car in either direction. Turning back wasn’t an option what with all those hills and judging by the numerous burnt out tanks along the route, I don’t think they were joking about the potential of losing a leg. Given the location you could say we were in a veritable no mans land. HA! A bit of war humour there.

Anyway. I’m a bit bored now. We ploughed on. The bird moaned. We went to the pub. I had the lamb, the girls had fish, I can’t remember what Lewis had. Then we drove home stopping at Wembley Maccers for a Mc Flurry. Mine was grim.

The end.

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My 1st trip to the doctor in 3 years


Had to register with a new doctors last week.  Went in to pick up some new patient forms.  They also give you a little pot to take away and bring back full of wee week.  The handover’s a bit embarrassing but at least it gives you a chance to flush yourself out a bit before you give it in.  My appointment was in the morning, it’s never giving a piss sample first thing is it?  All Oringina-y and stinking of sugar puffs.

To get a nice colouring I had planned to fill it up the night before, but it slipped my mind.  I had to get up early and down a few pints of water to thin it out a bit.  I didn’t think it was going to work its way through in time but I just managed to force a decent one out and get there on time.

It was still quite warm so there was a fair bit of condensation in there as well.  I don’t know if that affects the results.  I was going to pop it in the fridge for a bit but I was in a mad rush.   I’m not sure if they give you any feedback or if they just pop a bit of litmus paper in there and see how you compare to various bars of soap.

I got a bit confused and tried to hand it to the receptionist with my forms.  To see someone recoil from your pot isn’t a nice feeling, especially after going to all that effort.  God knows what her reaction would’ve been if it had of been the first slash of the day.  I had to scramble it red faced back into my pocket.  It’s weird sitting there with everyone aware that you’ve got piss in your cardigan pocket.

While I was waiting I got talking to a old guy called Stanley.  Stanley Rag.  He was nice.  I don’t know what it is about doctors surgery’s that makes people think they can tell a stranger about their reasons for being there.  He was telling me in quite a bit of detail about his kidney infection and how much it hurt when he went to the toilet.  He was being quite candid and I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed, so I told him about the piss handover fiasco to try and make it a, we’re all in this together chat.  He didn’t really seem interested.

I would help any of these women pick their leggings out of their fanny. Apart from Paris Hilton. I'd push hers further up. Maybe out of her mouth.

He also said that he has a cupboard full of pots and he occasionally just pops into the hospital unannounced with a little sample to see what’s going on.  I think Stanley is great.  I got the impression that the staff though he was a bit of a pain in arse though.

Poor ol’ Stanley, I think he just gets bored and wee’s in stuff to keep himself occupied.  I hope I live to an age where I can get away with shit like that.

I’ve got to go to the asthma clinic on Monday because that’s where all the cool kids go.  Trying to swing one of those hayfever injections as well to stop me being such a fucking baby for 4 months.  I’ll let you know how get on obviously.  I know you’re riveted.

Oh.  I almost forgot.  While I was waiting I saw a lady pick her leggings out of her fanny.  I’d never seen anyone do that before.  Perhaps if you have a hungry fanny then tight leggings aren’t really for you.

RnR!

p.s. I have normal blood pressure.  I’m 14 stone 2 pounds and a couple of cm’s short of six feet three inches.  I also have nice hair and a handsome face but the nurse didn’t put that on my forms because she’s a twat.

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There’s always one dickhead that forgets it’s non-school uniform day!


A page from my leavers book

Saw a boy on the bus today who had forgotten it was last day of term at school and was wearing his uniform.  All his mates were in their jeans giving him grief.  There’s always one dickhead!

I was pretty close to jumping into the argument and fighting his corner though to be honest.  I’d rather be in uniform, save the quid and not have to wear an Ed Hardy t-shirt.   You can imagine them in lessons today getting fuck all done, just whispering about what girl’s looking the best in their tightest casual clobber.  Lucky boys!

It’s a great day to check out how the birds are filling out, and if you played your cards right you could secure yourself a nice little toss off.  Them were the days.

I always used to raid my brothers wardrobe on non-uniform days.  A fine selection of Ben Sherman’s and denim jackets, had to race home and get them off before he got back from work and I got the old “who’s the king….say I’m the king” treatment though.

I was the da main man 3 times a year.  Well, I thought I was anyway.  I didn’t get much action though.  Probably a bit too unapproachable I reckon.  Yeah, that must’ve been it.  I know the girls loved my highlights.  Knocked ’em bandy they did.

I remember being in my final year and a 1st year rocked up on the last day of term with a carrier bag full of games.  I used to love that in Primary.  A day of eating party rings and playing top trumps.

Poor little bastard, what a massive fail.  Probably went through 5 years of senior school always being known as the fuckwit who bought in Pop up Pirate.  He got massive beats for that, and relieved of his games.  Best day in the common room that day playing Buckaroo…well….apart from when the proper nuaghty lad shut our head of year’s fingers in the door.  That was pretty cool.

I hated school but I loved that all that playground shit.  Dead legs, camel bites, peanuts and cupping farts in you mates face while all the girls sit around reading Smash Hits and bemoaning the fact that we were “SO immature!”.  Cars don’t make the man you know.  Being able to wipe bogey’s on your teacher without them noticing is pretty fucking hot as well.   Stupid cows.

Ummmmmm.  I’ve kind of of lost the point of what I was going to write about now.

Oh yeah.  Our unscrupulous landlords are kicking us out of our Hackney Palace so I’m moving in with the bit of fluff this weekend.  Got ourselves a nice little gaff just around the corner in Hackney proper. The bird’s obviously well chuffed getting to have me to herself.

What a way to spend a 4 day weekend.  Moving shit and trips to Wilko’s for toilet brushes and bath mats.  Right laugh!

I’ve got a stag do, a house move and the breaking-up of me and Harry Malteaster to fill you in on, but I guess I’ll do all that next week.

Have a wonderful Easter.  If I were you girls I’d steer clear of the eggs.  Summer’s just round the corner and most of you could probably do with shifting some timber, not putting it on.

Bye de byeeee.

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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Jewels & Muffs. How it went down!


It’s been a while. Sorry sorry sorry.  I’ve been busy dealing with shit in the real world. Fucking real world!  I’ll get to it.

The arts and crafts for that party of ours consumed me for the best part of two weeks.  Cutting out stencils, making signs and pimping up a hoody takes time you know.  So does liberating an industrial sized sub woofer from a City gym and typing up a 380 strong guestlist for a party meant for 180.  I shit myself a few times I can tell thee.

It went off alright anyway.  We had a few teething problems.  Lewy Pooey and me don’t know our arse’s from our cocks from our elbows with anything technical electrical, but we somehow got the PA going. Luck more than judgement.  Took a few tweeks from the people who actually knew what the fuck they were doing but all in all it didn’t sound half bad.

The lightswords came out too early.  The sweets and bubbles didn’t come out at all, and people generally thought I was peddling poppers when I went round with the glow sticks……me!…..poppers!….my arsehole is wide enough mate.  Minor problems.

Being a warehouse, being 4th floor and being only one toilet…..that’s more of a problem.  Alot of piss flowing down 60 feet of stairs apparently.  I didn’t see it, but I imagine it looked quite beautiful.

I played first and busted out my now standard reggae/soul set.  It was early.  No-one cared.  Gilbey rolled into town and smashed it to pieces, the two Scotsman were visibly shaken at the prospect of having to follow what he put down, but true to their word they played the hits.  Plenty of sing-a-longs and hands in the air.  It was an over-sized house party and that’s what we wanted.

A sign and hoody crafted by my own fair hand

A right pair of lovelies

I think they're both dead. Worth it though.

Gilbey and his Deejaaaaay stance

They were a quid. The pound shop is ace for shit partys!

Some nice people.

Chop her fucking head off! Go on!

These two thought I wanted to be Calvin Harris. Plums.

Unfortunately just as we were getting going the police rolled into town and gave us the heads up on an imminent raid (needless to say alot of people would have been in a bit of trouble) and closed us down.  Bloody bastards!  We mooched on for another half hour but had the plug pulled at 3 a.m.  It could’ve been worse….it could’ve been much much better!

It was great crowd.  Brilliant to see some old faces, meet some new ones and have a laugh.  Apologies if I didn’t get the chance to speak to everyone.  There was a lot going on.

I think we’ll do something again.  Somewhere licensed.  Somewhere with more toilets.  Somewhere we don’t have to worry so much.

That was that.

Big love to Hannah for the sub and glow sticks.  Harry Malt for the flyer.  Gilbey, Paul and Alan for the tunes and you ‘orrible lot for coming along and getting involved!

Until next time!

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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