It's true...

...I saw it with my own eyes.

This mini-bus full of women pulled up next to a portaloo and every single one of them piled into the one cubicle.  At the same time.

When they left they all had immaculate hair & make-up.

'Owzat!

In all the fuss over some grasshoppers winning some ash or some other such nonsesne, it appears true sporting brilliance goes almost totally un-noticed:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/4235210.stm

As a matter of public record:

As usual, life spirals along without any notable incident.

Those of you with eyes may like to feast them on the new photographs on my fotopic site.

*Ow*

So Del just tagged me on some crazy blog thing (if you ask me a bit too violently. I bruise easily) so I must list 5 songs that I'm diggin' at the mo. They be these:

1. Amerie - One Thing
2. Herbaliser - Something Wiked This Way Comes
3. Mogwai - 2 Rights Make 1 Wrong
4. DJ Nite - Franzie Wonder
5. Gorillaz - Dirty Harry

And, according to the law, I thus tag the following folks:

My Sis, Ali
Lazy James
Nicky
Idiot
and, er, Jimmy the Dog

University of Life

Here are a few lessons I have learned over the past few days:

- Boots 'Roast Vegetable and Hummous' salad appears to contain
neither of its title ingredients. This is presumably some sort of
joke directed at the poor herbivore health-food types who are too weak
and malnourished to complain.

- Flirting outrageously with girls at military events will be at best
ineffective and atoworst potentially hazardous.

- One should not drink more than one could lift.

- Photographs from the Congo tend to focus more on the
violence/poverty of the area - I am yet to see documentary evidence of
Um Bongo consumption. I feel lied to.

- You can Still get Wham! bars. But probably shouldn't.

- If one is facing a long and arduous walk home, the burden of a 17"
CRT monitor does nothing to improve the journey.

I hope these brief insights are helpful.

Bike Rage

The Edinburgh Festival brings people in their millions to this
relatively small city during August, and it's certainly noticeable.

Last night, cycling through a busy part of town I was surrounded by
hundreds of human livestock, herding endlessly through the streets
stopping only to wipe the drool from their chins and seemingly too
enraptured by some Jeremy in a jester hat trying to get them to go and
see his pathetic university play about what it's like to be a suicide
bomber to bother looking when crossing the road. They were in my way,
basically and I wanted every last one of them to instantly contract
rabies and die frothing atthe mouth, their spines snapped under the
force of their own convulsions.

I was secretly quite enjoying hating these people. I don't really
have anything against tourists at all (in fact, I quite like the fact
that people travel just to come and see this city), but I do rather
enjoy swearing in my head. In fact I just thought of several very
rude words and nobody heard me do it. I'm dead subversive, I am.

Just as I was really getting into a good brain-rant, I noticed that I
had a plastic bag caught in my bike wheel. Great, I thought.
Something else I can hate the interlopers for.

The bag was properly stuck, giving me ample time to revel in my
internal bile-spouting as I wrestled it from around my spokes. Some
useless gawping moron was to blame for this, littering MY city with
THEIR crap.

Then, a hand appeared out of the blue instantly releasing the bag from
the wheel for me and depositing it neatly in a nearby bin. As I
uttered my thanks to this stranger, he replied in some foreign tongue,
instantly replacing my anger a sense of gratitude and the realisation
that no matter where you are, even in a crowd of gawping buffoons,
theere are nice considerate people. The bastards.

Cwithpth

An idle thought. Here is a list of potential crisp flavours unlikely
to grace your newsagent:

- Roast owl
- Oat 'n' Dust
- Cumulo Nimbus
- Gary Lineker's Manly Discharge
- Anthrax 'n' Vinegar
- Morse Code
- Aborted Foetus

Feel free to suggest your own. The winner gets 1 full hoover bag.

Am I exited?

OF COURSE I AM

Four Tet and Explosions in the Sky on the same bill? In Edinburgh?

Apparently so

Hooray for that.

I R Damien Hirst

Hooray for me. I have acquired a shiny new mouse at work, with a
scrolly-wheel and everything.

"So what?", I hear you say.

Well, if you look at 'stevious says' sideways and scroll up and down
REALLY FAST it goes all wobbly. Like art and that. Proper.

This effect is compounded if you mash your head against the underside
of your desk whilst plugging a mouse in, though.

Avert your eyes

My cunning and hilarious joke in the post below hasn't worked (I don't
usually talk in HTML like that). So if you could just pretend it's
not there until I get to a proper computer and fix it that would be
grand.

Troublegum

I had a listen to some Therapy? this week. I loved them when I was
15. All those shouty songs about being a total loner and wanting to
stab people to death. Perfect for a teenager who thinks that growing
your hair long and dressing like a bin-man marks you out as an
individual, as opposed to just a knob. They nearly won the Mercury
Music Prize, but lost out to M People in the end. I think they're
stil touring.

On a similar note, I had my first physiotherapy session this week (See
how I did that? Classy. Smoother than a bag
of gravel;, and more subtle than Abi
Titmuss).

I never thought it would be the case, but physiotherapy is fun! To
correct for my kneecaps bing in the wrong place and my feet being
funny-shaped I have to do the following exercises:

The Slow Policeman: This involves standing with my feet pointing
forwards (actually quite difficult for me) and bending my knees with
my back straight and holding it. Kind of like doing that 'ello ello
ello' thing that policemen don't ever do, but in slow motion.

Toe push-ups: Feet flat on floor, curl middle of foot up whilst
pushing down on toes. Apparently doesn't count if I use rock-boots
for this.

The Flamingo: Pretty much as you'd expect - standing about on one
leg. I like doing this whilst on the phone at work.

OK, so the exercises are actually pretty dull, but I only have to do
them for a week and then I move on to more advanced ones. Here's
hoping that in a few weeks time I'll have to do spinning handstands
whilst juggling a medicine ball with my feet. Who knows? Maybe after
all of this my knees will be slightly less knobbly, thus reducing my
chances of winning a free bottle of Asti Spumanti at Butlins.

Look!

More pictures on my fotopic site .

Peek-a-boo

Hidden tracks. What exactly is the point?

I imagine that the intention is to make the listener feel special, and
maybe create a sense of anticipation. Like I'm delving into the
unknown to touch upon a special creation that nobody else will
experience, because they don't have what it takes to be a proper fan
and wait seven-and-a-half minutes to hear this mind-blowingly
inventive compostion.

In reality, though, I just fast forward the blank bit to find some
2-minute bum gasp written by the drummer. Or in the case of Ash's
1977, the sound of someone violently emptying their stomach in public.
In some cases, I'll forget that the album's still running and
promptly fill my breeks when the unexpected racket starts up.

In the odd rare case that the track is any good, just put it on the
album properly. Nobody's fooled that putting a good song somewhere
awkward makes for a better listening experience. If they do then they
probably shouldn't be allowed a stereo in case they try and breed with
it or something.

Otherwise, just put the bloody song on a b-side, or your website or a
large pyre. Or give it to someone wank like Embrace to put on their
album, thus preventing me from having to listen to it at all.

Close Encounters

The fax machine (remember them? Like email from the 80's) is making
some mighty strange noises at me today.

Maybe it's some sort of extra-terrestrial being trying to contact me,
and if I can just decypher the code I could understand the message of
universal love, and cure all of mankind's ailments.

Or maybe I just need a more interesting job.

Dreich

One of my favourite Scottish words.

Means 'It's mincing it down outside'.

Which, of course, it is right now.

Choonz

Distinct lack of musical ranting here of late, so here's some recent
boat-floaters:

Gorillaz - Demon Days:
I hate you Albarn. I thougth I had it all figured out. The speccy
one was the good one in Blur, and you were responsible for the rubbish
bits, as evidenced by 'Think Tank' (load of arsewater) vs 'Happiness
in Magazines' (really quite good). But now you've released this and
it's brilliant. At least I can pretend it was made by a bunch of
drawings instead. Christ, I even like the song with Shaun Ryder on
it, it must be good (or I have contracted some form of mentalism).

The Chemical Brothers - Push the Button:
Hooray. the Chemicals are back on form. And they're using
glockenspiels on some of their tracks. Rejoice!

Bloc Party - Silent Alarm:
I'm not entirely sure why I love this album so much. Maybe it's
because it sounds like the drummer really needs a pee so he plays
everythign at full speed all the way through the album. Maybe it's
the slightly melodramatic lyrics. It could be the 'Pixies mixed with
Explosions in the Sky' guitars. Most likely though, it's the
occasional use of glockenspiel that does it.

The Magic Numbers - The Magic Numbers
Mmmmm. There's just something so warm and comforting about this
album. Kind of like a nice bowl of soup. But without the bit where
you burn your mouth on it, or accidentally drop your bread in it. The
sort of mushy sentimental stuff I don't want to admit I like. With
added glockenspiel.

The Prague Glockenspiel Orchestra - Greatest Hits Vol. 2
OK. I made this one up, but I'd probably like it if if did exist.

Centurion

Scotland can be a tough place to be a climber in the summer time. The
weather is often indistinguishable form that of an English winter,
with the rock often dripping wet and unclimbable. And then when the
rain and wind stop, out come Culicoides halophilus - the Highland
Midge.

Millions of these minute vampires swarm around the Highlands with no
respect for your personal space, trying their best to drain you with
blood. If you've never experienced these evil little bastards then
you may well think that I'm whining about nothing, but they are an
utter menace, and would test the goodwill of even the most Zen monk.

But then there are some days that will make you forget about all of
those times you've had to hide under a boulder from the rainclouds or
endure a zillion minute insects all trying to invade your nose, and
Saturday was one of them.

It was the first time I'd been to Ben Nevis in the summer, and the
weather had given us blue skies and brilliant sunshine. The cold,
dark slog I was used to taking up the Ben was replaced with something
far more bright and sunny (still a bit of a slog, though).

Today's objective was the classic rock-climb 'Centurion'. Taking a
steep line through some impressive rock, even looking at it from the
ground was awe-inspiring. Jo and I had been wanting to do this route
for quite some time, and I felt a bit intimidated as it loomed above
me.

The climbing itself was perfect. For over 200 metres the route never
once relented, each pitch exciting enough to be considered a classic
in its own right. Once you're on the route there's no easy escape,
adding more to the excitement and making the whole undertaking more
serious. Each movement required thought and finesse, every moment a
joy.

All those days couped up inside watching the sky collapse fade were
worth the wait, and every midge bite no more than a passing nuisance.
Days like that are what keeps us coming back, but unlike the drug
addict trying to re-capture that first perfect high, we come across
those days again and again, and never grow weary of them.

Yeah. Scotland's great.

Settings and things

hello mofos

This post is actually just to test that I've got my automatic
publishing thing set up properly.

If you're reading this then it is. If you're not reading it then
there's some sort of crazy telepathic shiznit going on and you should
market your talents. I want 10% of the cut for coming up with the
idea, mind.

Right. Off to Ben Nevis for the weekend. Bye!

Da Bomb

Well done to the second round of cowardly terrorists.

Through your incompetence you’ve outlined the utter pointlessness of your endeavours.

Clearly these people didn’t have Lego as kids.

Internet cafes suck.

I tried to write a post last night in the internet café but was distracted by there being lots of people on MSN, and the bloke next to me was looking at some utterly filthy pictures which kind of derails any train of thought. It was probably going to be about how great it is cycling around Edinburgh or something equally as smug.

I did, however manage to achieve a few things: I updated the links on the side bar, and I set up a thing where I can email blog posts in from anywhere I want. Yes, that’s right, I can now blog from work, which may mean a bit more posting round these parts. Most of it, as always, will be drivel (and if you don’t like it you can sod off and look at your loser schoolmates on friends reunited or something).