inbuilt_guilt

I'm a bah humbug and for a bloody good reason and that reason is flashing Christmas lights. Especially multi-coloured lights but ESPECIALLY flashing multi-coloured lights in windows. Somebody, please God, anybody, point out to me what the purpose of flashing multi-coloured lights in windows actually is. I don't think anybody can and the excuse 'Because it's festive' is just not good enough.



OH! Piss off christmas lights!

I'm a bah humbug for a bloody good reason and that reason is flashing christmas lights.
Somebody please point out to me why people can't be tasteful when it comes to Christmas, I mean, surely a nice christmas tree

It takes a person to know where Hell is
And I been on its fires all too well
Spent my time burning just to dwell
On its un-sacred, ghastly smells.
Now, I don't know where the next person belies
Whether a trip to the moon or eyes looming in these unpleasant skies,
Time will spit them out when no more is required of their lives lies
Until it's a pose to carry them out over the shoulders of The Maker,
A reluctant guess but who can pinpoint a faker?

We're all in a mess and we're all just swimming,
Whether with fishes or life-long wishes,
Gasping for truth, screeching for air
Whistling for underground fires to restrain their stares.
I have climbed but never seen
A healthy man praying on his noble knees,
A mother to a child who clutches at the breast,
Breasts by design to lure their young to rest.

We won't learn from printed guess
Until memory props up the past on a broken stool,
To wail and torture 'Drink up from that rusted glass, you fumbling mule'
This bread will mean nothing when broken in two,
When there's simply nothing more left for me or you.

- - - - - - - - -

Now that's off my chest, last night I listened to some LCD Soundsystem tracks (Ed- Bye Bye Bayou is the upcoming and coming single and, you know, as far as tracks like All My Friends or Too Much Love, are concerned it just ... It doesn't match up to the debut or Sound of Silver or the Intron stuff, fuck! I'd even take Franz's All My Friends version than this unlucky wobble!) I also had a gander at some free downloads from Wire, (Ed- I especially enjoyed nnnj - Goopscoop) and as I was feeling, shall we say, obscure and willing to invent and explore, I watched the film take on Burrough's 'Naked Lunch' 1991.

All together now, "Say, would rub some bug powder on my lips?"

Although Burroughs was a huge influence from 14 to ongoing, I sometimes feel that we can, by all means, try and understand what he's saying but we'll never actually know. Burroughs took drugs for a reason, drugs are taken for reasoning, everybody needs to pluck a reason to slip some Junk in the system, but we try and make sense but we're not making any sense 'cause Burroughs didn't even have a clue what he was on about himself.







(The James Murphy picture was taken by Jake Walters for any Morrissey fans)

I'm sure we all have things that we regret but often with the bitter taste lurking upon the tongue of a somewhat wild salad-days I have some good memories. These are mainly records and for each record introduced to me there was always a memorable time and place.
It's somewhat bitter-sweet, that kind of juxtapostion that isn't and wasn't all that kind at times.
Here are some of the albums.... P.S - Some lady just rung from London in a busy call centre. She seemed so kind and she was very softly spoken... Then she must of been so relieved to clutch the phone to its rightful place after she'd spoken to my gruff Northern voice.

So despite having two exams today (Stylistics at 3.00 and something I never did for communication in technology) I'd like know what everybody's Desert Island Discs are.

Now, I'm no Kirsty Young but I do like a good chin-wag over music. So, if you know the drill then that's wonderful and if you don't know the drill it's:

- Eight records
- A book
- You're automatically given The Bible and The Complete Works of Shakespeare
- One luxury item
- One record out of the eight to take to the island

You couldn't really make these up even if you tried and so I'm not trying. Let's just hope they are not Morrissey fans.

.............I'm still speechless. Ok, so, the NHS have jobs to do but why do they feel the need to force their workload on me?! How can they be sure that I'm even getting any action?

Do I really look like the sort of person to do The Dark Deed without contraception? I wobble to shit when I have to watch porn at the thought of contracting an STD or WORST .... Getting preggers *shudder*

The next bit that I'm going to quote actually made me spit my coffee everywhere, "REMEMBER: Using a condom every time you have sex can reduce the risk of getting or passing on Chlamydia"

Now, you may be sitting there thinking "How can this plonker be so immature about this?" And yes, you are quite right but the fact is I've always been the same. When those health nurses gathered people in the sports hall in Year 7 to tell girls about periods and shit, I didn't want to know! And guess what?! Nothing has changed because I still don't want to know!
I never went to these meeting because quite frankly I had better things to do with my time.... Like doing a one-girl protest against the council to not kill the frogs down Larkholme Lane.

So, best wishes to you too, The Chlamydia Screening Team, but I'll pass. Cheers.

Well, I'm sat in the University libray away from everybody and surrounded by nothing more than Art books, or so it seems. (See inset)




This is all fine and well but what isn't fine and well is that I have a Semiotics exam in an hours time. Great, so now I am trying to cram as many A.R.T, U&G and Uses and Gratifications Models and Theories into my head... Oh! And what's that? You have a commentary to write up for today?!
I'm a giant wanker. Why the hell do I leave everything 'til LAST LAST minute?!!




Even this song by Electrane called 'Enter Laughing' can't help me this time.

Firstly, I thought I'd add this picture from The Devil's Rejects, simply because it made me giggle and I'll do anything for a cheap laugh.

I finish my first year of University soon, I literally have one assignment and three exams to do but the thing is I've got that gut inscint that I'm not going to get on to the second year. Ok, yes, so I've done all the assignments and exams and I've never been below 60% but I've never been 80%. I'm always stuck in the sixty/seventy bracket and it's frustrating, so for this purely I think that I can wave 'bye-bye' to year two.

This time last year I would of been living in Paris. It would of been cold, I would have poor (not much changes, however thanks to the student loan cats *thumbs up*) I would survived purely on wine, bread and cheese (again, nothing changes) and the person I was living with would have a heavy coke problem, beat me and then tell me they loved me.

It's funny, isn't it, when you think back to how and what you were like last year or the years gone past. I was a mess, bit of a drink problem and thought poetry could explain every thought that crossed my mind but it doesn't.
I move from Paris in Decemember to spen a dreadful week in Barcelona where I'd spit at my youth intoxicated and juust lounging with cross-dressers. How avant-garde of me!...... But Johnny Rotten had it right because 'avant-garde' really does stand for 'bullshit'.

I'd steam away in an intoxicated state with one person on my mind and different conversations in my heart to Malaga. Malaga would be perfect, it served as a chance to no longer whistle from windows to petty drug dealers down below, or prance around the streets in scarves malingering with cheap wine outside metros for the party to arrive but suddenly three o'clock in the morning catapults you in an argument and you simply have to leave.
Malaga, for all it's worth, was good for the state of mind because it was quiet enough to tip-toe around but yet still have a plausable conversation. Even if it is in a tiny bathroom with some Spanish whore fluttering around you. What do you do? Where do you turn?

You do nothing. You sit down and enjoy the show with that bottle of Tequila trickling down that broken throat of yours.

You're trying to forget the past and you can't so you drink more and more and more until you're practically on the verge on being killed by a tramp coming out of a club at 5 in the morning. You swear to the Holy Mother that you can go another night with drink but there's no other way other than suicide so you drink more and more and more and more and more and suddenly you're with another person.

This person gives you their jacket to shelter yourself from the early morning Spanish drabbles of rain and although it smells so nice, it smells of what you ran away from in the first place.

Blood, tears, agony, shambolic affairs, brutal affairs, stone cold steps that tell a million stories, broken glass, broken noses, broken thoughts, broken hearts, peak of death and finally You and Me.

http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/?p=2191








What the fuck?! No seriously, now! This is my bike.. How can you sit there and literally diss 'The Stable One 5000' ?!!!

HOUSE OF A 1000 CORPSES

I'm desperate for my nephew, Michael, to watch Rob Zombies 'House of a 1000 Corpses' and 'The Devil's Rejects'. I reckon that he'd love Captain Spaulding, not just because I do but because it's the reckless humour that I'd like him to grow up having instead of a poncy kind of humour. There's nothing more than I'd love to see than my sister recoil in horror on Christmas day as he tore away at the wrapped to discover... Oh, what? No socks?! Well, these are better kid!:


or this...



I don't think there's anything wrong with buying your 12 year old nephew something which may (possibly) turn them into the local town murderer. He's moving after Christmas so he'll haver to jazz up his bedroom 'cause he can't just impress peeps with his new Geko! So I was thinking maybe these posters would get him some new friends...





My own personal experiences with Captain Spaudling are good ones. I've got the mask (which I may or may not of stolen from my old workplace just in case old bosses are reading) got the DVD's and have strange obessions with frightening children with Spaudling's one liners and I'm not THAT fucked up. Probably.

My cool cat friend, C, sent me this link to a website called ' peopleofwalmart.com '
She'd told me about the folks that shop there. Considering Walmart and Asda are part of the same super-chain I feel cheated that I am not able to gawp at these people ((even though I don't shop at Asda))

If I knew that Dog The Bountyhunter was roaming around Asda I would be there every...single....day....











I sincerely hope that these people don't book a flight to Manchester and get the next train to my house and beat me brutally.

Ok, so, I have two animals, Alfie, who's my dog and River who's my cat. Alfie is the little boy because he's very childish and River tends to be the teenager because he's moody 'n stuff.

Rivers closes is eyes directly at me quite a lot, what does this mean? Is he telling me to go and ram bananas upself in Feline language or what?
He sleeps in my room, on my bed obviously, but the other night I was playing Solitare on my Netbook and suddenly he just jumps up in my face goes 'Mowwwww' and then lies back down.

What the fuck? I hope he was telling me that he loved me because before this strangeness he'd hurled all over my carpet and I cleaned it up. Any suggestions?

Alfie meanwhile just doesn't care. As long as he's up on the table having a nosey and a friendly growl then he's happy.

The amount of grief I felt putting the Morrissey ticket stub in my hand envelope aka a jiffy bag with a piece of paper on the top and some masking tape, was unreal. Very weepy doing it. Still, £35 extra in my pocket and I might get Super Mario Bros on Wii! Hurrah!

So this bullshitting Stylistic assignment has to be in for tomorrow and I just can't focus on it. 50% because it's boring weepy bollocks and 50% because I feel like I'm being stabbed in the stomach by all the knives in the world. If my stomach is this bad tomorrow then I wouldn't be handing in my assignment and I won't be going to University (so now I'm praying that my stomach is just as bad tomorrow then it'll give me an excuse to not hand anything in. Hurrah for lying!)

I had an interview for some work experience in some Disability and Mental Health charity case yesterday. I kept thinking 'They may not take me on. The interview was THAT bad that it doesn't really matter if it's volentary'
The reason why I'm doing this is because I was told it'll look good down on paper. The Mexican school thing got me this position and they must be taking a chance because of the CRB fees and the travel expenses.

I made the first mistake of sitting down and putting my hands in my coat pocket. I soon realised what I was doing. I tried not to sit with my back straight upwards, after all, I'm a twenty year old in the 21st century and NOT a fucking seventy year old applying for the managers postion at The British pissing Legion.

I got my mother to ring up in the morning because she's got ape-steel-bollocks when it comes to doing stuff like this. She 'aint scared of NOOOOO telephone, people! Anyway, I made her do this because I had in fact forgotten the directions! (ED - Are you starting to realise just how pathetic I am now? Forgetting the travel details? What a wanker!)
So, after half-an-hour begging and pleading with 'You don't love me, do you mum? You've never loved me! I ask you do to do one thing and you won't do it!' I knew she'd do it but she kept saying that 'jokey-northern thing' 'Well, ring the NSPCC if you want, love, but I doubt they'll take a newly twenty year old seriously'.

P.S - Should get my presentation results back tomorrow. I've got the rope ready and the lampost on stand-by.

You know, it's a shame that every kid these days aren't being influenced my music, regardless of background, race or age. Once upon a time music told an enchanting story for those who were able to influence and guide those whom listened to it, now it's nothing more than a lick of reluctance with a child gurning off e-numbers, slobbing it in front of a tv screen gaining sore thumbs from the XBox 360 controller, reeking of ancient tea-time stains on their grubby pyjamas.

This comes from when I asked my nephew what he would like for Christmas and he cheekily answered "A new XBox 360 controller" at £30/£40 a piece? I think not. Usually for Christmasses and Birthdays I will get him some music, although I am filled with dread for what it actually is. Last Christmas I got him Kayne West's first album, which quite frankly killed me buying it. When I was his age I was downing myself in hardcore rap and preaching Nas's 'Illmatic' to my grandmother. Kayne West has an attitude problem in real life and it rubs off on Michael, Michael is my nephew. He finds it somewhat more entertaining to interrupt conversations with 'Yo, imma' let you finish but.... You're gay'. That's his joke. Bad, isn't it?

Now, why can't we switch that Kayne West bad attitude to a respectful, gangster attitude? Huh? If we take a slice of 2Pac who may of had beef with various 'peeps' but none-the-less respected those who surrounded him, I believe they say that they had each other's backs. I'd like this more than Kayne West's obnoxious antics.

I've given my nephew a list of rap albums and I'd like to buy him at least one of these:

-Nas - Illmatic
-Cypress Hill - Black Sunday or the self titled debut.
-2Pac - All Eyez on Me
-Wu Tang Clan - 36 Chambers

There's a similar problem away from the art of old school hip-hop beats. Michael is a little bit Emo, is it 'Emo'? I still live in the name calling of 'Mosher' I simply cannot distinguish between all these names of musical genre bullying because to me, regardless of the tunes you jump to, you like that music and your style may or may not be influenced by this particular genre but anyway, where was I? .... Oh yeah, Michael is a fan of The White Strips, which he thinks enables him to gain an attitude problem. I can just about deal with The White Stripes, I have a couple of early albums somewhere but it's the other music. Bad, bad taste! No Rage Against The Machine, no Deftones, no Smiths, no BB King, no Billie Holiday.... All these timeless characters he's missing out on.


This years he wants a Blur album which is OK I suppose but only for the song 'Song 2' Hopefully he will understand the greatness of 'Beatlebum'. It makes me sad that he's missing on Interpol's 'Turn on The Bright Lights' or old time Belle and Sebastian EP's.

I've decided to buy him Blur's 'Greatest Hits', Nas 'Illmatic' and Interpol's 'Antics'. I'm not trying to be forceful but I'm trying to save him from Hawaiian shirts and comb-overs. Now this is off my chest I can finish fitting the bathroom light-bulb.... But where the hell did I put it?....

Julian Plenti, the frontman from Interpol is playing the Academy 2 in Manchester.

Interpol crowds always tend to be stoned... Even if they haven't been tugging on a joint then they always seem to act like stoners. That's good though because it means that I don't have to dance or anything, I can just tap my foot and nod my head.

LOL. All the bobbing heads in Morrissey's - Irish Blood, English Heart always makes me laugh.

QUOTE OF THE DAY......

"I'm sorry you lost your sister. That sounds very careless. I wish I could lose mine."

....And mine, Steven. She's destroyed my plans to run away to an island, probably the Isle of Man, for Christmas. GUTTED.

I dragged myself along to see The Airborne Toxic Event last night. They played at The Ritz in Manchester, just around the corner from Oxford Road, if you're interested. They were fantastic! Such energy, great connection with each other and the auidence, so humble and very proud to be in Manchester.

A.T.E actually did more songs that what was on the setlist and winged in some Smiths tracks, 'Ask' and 'Panic' as the frontman quoted 'Fuck, Manchester's like a Mecca to me'

It'll all be Solo later, I hope, but they are a great band and for strange reason the bass player and the drummer kept looking at me. Then when I was standing at the front ready to leave the bass player shook my hand and the drummer gave me his setlist. How odd!







TRAIN STATION EVENTS- 12TH NOVEMBER:

1) I was for my train and my old boss, who wasn't really a boss more of just a brown nose ponce, walks through the barriers, I'm happy to let him walk past but he spots me and comes over all 'Oh, give me a hug! Fran misses you so much' I'm like 'Yeah, go fuck a sheep' but not literally, of course. Fran was my old boss, next thing it's small conversation and he said, I need to ring Fran anyway, I can deal with Fran but not Javi. Oh woeful joy, I have to speak to Javi. I sat on the train thinking 'I'm glad I don't know those people anymore'.

2) I was sat on the train coming back and this drunk couple got on at Preston, they were sat on the other side from me and clearly weren't paying attention where they were going. The bloke eating Oreos that he'd found and the blonde piece just being ..... tipsy.
Next thing, it goes quiet and the bloke says 'We haven't got past Kirkham and Westham yet, have we?' I say 'Yeah, we stopped for 2 minutes' neither of them believed me, suddenly the tanoid bloke pipes up 'Poulton-le-Fylde'

HA. I WIN YOU FUCKING IGNORANT KIRKHAM AND WESHAM PEOPLE!