die another day

the following may well be read as grossly smug. read it at your peril if you're not happy with that, but don't say I didn't warn you.

a couple of times in the last twenty-eight years i've had a moment of clarity where everything seems to fit in place, where all that is happening to me makes sense. the first one perhaps shortly after birth, realising why i had been curled up in a comfy annex that more recently had been feeling like it needed some sort of extension. perhaps a conservatory. i have a morbid recollection that as i rolled down a road in islington at 50mph after dropping my bike i may have partly accepted the inevitability of the event as a brutal poetic justice for someone who was basically being an idiot. there have most certainly been others, most likely involving my long time confident: the troubadour, a certain evening in a tiny village with tisch, and standing on a high up volcanic rock as the sun set over the great white lake in the middle of nowhere, mongolia.

i can't help but have a spring in my step as i meander my way to work this morning; after a spectacular 10 days centred by my birthday, a fine selection of happenings enhancing my 28th like dolby digital.

the order went something like this:
a lovely evening with the lord and lady monkhouse: the 'rents who made it all possible. indian food and fine conversation, what more is needed?

being rescued from a disappointing evening with the new work mates by whackwit, and having a much more pleasant evening with him, a pint of finest and a handmade burger.

a day kicking terrorist ass with the troubadour, followed by a genius party for the duchess involving high spirits, high notes and an array of highly attractive young ladies. more of one of those later.

a very pleasant date with a girl who could be mistaken for natalie portman.

pub quiz with some of my nearest and dearest, accompanied by bangers and mash - the choice of a new generationX. we didn't win but at least i now know what piacrete is.

to the theatre with some more nearest and dearest to see a show that is just about the closest to manly that a dance show could get; about a family of kung-fu stars who spend all their life training under their kung-fu master grandfather. the nearest it gets to a story is when 2 burglars try to break in to the house and they end up having a half-hour martial arts fight. utter genius.

then the troubadour and i whacked out a very tasty odd cast within only a few minutes.

the biggest disappointment was when i found out my wonderful friend xany was suddenly unable to come to my birthday party, but i managed to swap an evening with her for an evening with the - frankly delightful - miss budd; a very easy-on-the-eye, pint-sized blonde with a filthy sense of humour and turquoise eyes you could swim in. life dealt me lemons, i made long island ice tea.

a very enthusiastic lie-in on saturday was quickly followed by ale & pie, shopping with The Budd, more drinks with nearest and dearest which involved (quite thrillingly and against all odds) xany appearing from nowhere. battles had been fought and variables had been conquered and there she was in the pub we had chosen but minutes before. i still don't quite understand how it happened, but will happily remain in the dark, marveling only at the way the world works sometimes.

more food, mexi-CAN. by this time, my stomach was making some noises of complaint and one or two worrying gestures. nothing a good cocktail couldn't fix, mind.

then onto shunt, my favourite of all london clubs; possibly the only one i actually like: a selection of darkened tunnels weave their way under london bridge. a series of manmade caverns and hidey-holes and pinball machines, where between 20 and 30 wonderful people joined me to share in the wonder of 28 years of jonathan. so many thanks to all who came, i spent the evening with the funniest men and the most beautiful women in all of christendom.

and that's just an overview. how could i pick a favourite bit?

perhaps the x-box 360 i bought myself as a birthday present.
perhaps the dedication of The Fox, who queued for 2 hours to get into my party after being stuck on a tube, only to be mildly concussed by a hurtling drum stick soon after she got in. thank you jenny.
perhaps the crazy chain of events that suddenly leapt in our favour and xany magically appearing from the depths of the midlands.
perhaps the spectacular time i spent with The Budd, who by now must be aware of my growing affection and doesn't seem to mind responding to my poor-witted (and sometimes rude) text messages, and with whom i share a love of geese and trickle vents.

i literally cannot find fault with the last 288 hours. if you have seen me or sent me a message in that period you have contributed to the spring in my step and the whistle in my suit. or something. it has been a feast of great joy and for a while i forgot how close i am to turning 30.

fuck.

indecent proposal

remember kids:

eagle vs. shark

(it's likely that you will now encounter a very bad metaphor...)

typical. you wait for a bus for a good few months and suddenly out of nowhere two come along at the same time. two very beautiful buses.

your brain tells you to take the first one and disappear into the wide blue yonder. but there's a wildcard; your heart tugs you to the second one. it's a bit of a walk, but it's got a CB radio.

and it's a really very sexy bus.

my happy ending

almost famous

it's been far too long since i went to my last gig, but thankfully the drought was ended with a brilliant evening spent with shoelace and his old school pals from devon, the rumble strips.

a long while ago i heard their song "motorcycle" which is frankly nigh-on anthemic, disguised as a sort of lo-fi garage recording. not only is it a catchy little number, but also came onto my radar at pretty much the same time i passed my motorbike test and got myself a crotch rocket. the 'strips encore performance of said song bought those pleasurable feelings flooding back and i was momentarily back in the fresh air with the wind in my eyes and flies in my teeth.

in the very hip new proud gallery, camden (£5 drinks... urgh) the rumble strips played to a small but energised crowd. there was an honesty to the set, a result perhaps of a group with their feet still on the ground; becoming famous, but not yet suffering from the fall out of mega-stardom (despite collaborations with mark ronson.) anyone who knows me will know i will always favour the underdog, the independent, the cult... and this band is happily within this gamut; certainly for now. though there's something unpretentious and genuine about their writing that implies they could remain untainted for a good while.

brilliant, don't ruin it.

deliverance

shunt

i must tell you about one of the best venues and one the the funnest cabaret ideas what i did experience on friday, these...

shunt is an awesome 'members club' underneath london bridge, hidden in the shadows of railway arches amongst the strange, the circus and the unusual. it's a performance art club and anything goes.

anything.

the time i went before, the evening was interrupted by a rather large naked dude who ran amongst the revelers only to have a bucket of tinned tomatoes fall from the ceiling on top of him. after throwing himself around a bit in a frenzy of ketchup manufacture he ran onto a small stage where another bucket (this time of sand) fell atop his head. more writhing about then back into the crowd/dancers/audience whereupon a bucket of water drenched him and anyone standing nearby.

he was one of the owners it turns out.

so yeah.... anything.

but last friday i went off to the good old freakshow in support of an old friend of the troubadour's who was performing with her band - karauke - please do go to the website for information, but in short they are a ukulele band who put on karaoke gigs. like karaoke, but with a 15-piece ukulele band instead of a little machine with a microphone attached to it.

check them out. go and see them. and sign up early to do a song. don't hesitate like i did and by the time you've psyched yourself up enough to go on stage and you're really excited... time has run out and the gig is over.

shame, because my ukulele backed rendition of kaiser chiefs "oh my god" was to be the stuff of legend...

karauke

basic instinct

fight club

a view to a kill

view from the top

for those of you who give a monkey's, some more things of my new job that is nice, yes.
a big fat screen

deep impact

i did my first day of my new job.

i was given a lot of information.

my head feels like it will burst open.

this is sort of like my new office and that:

east bound & down

well, that's it. my time at central hall, westminster has come to an end. at the risk of sounding institutionalised it's been my life since december 2005. jeez, that sounds like a long time.

working there has been a big fat mixed bag o' nuts, featuring the all time lowest points of my mental and physical states, all the way up to laughing uncontrollably and the occasional immense & warming sense of pride in my abilities and dedication. i will miss the place, whether i like it or not. there are some fantastic people there, a couple of fucking morons, but generally through the years i have seen some brilliant people come and go. and it's been great to be honest.

i'm so glad i'm leaving to go and do a new, interesting, varied, better-paid, different job... but as my emotions got a little better of me last night at my good-bye drinks it turns out i do actually really love the place and it's a bit hard for me to leave. thanks to all who turned out to my leaving do, loads of people came to see me off (probably to make sure i was actually going), i think you are all excellent.

also thanks to those who didn't come but gave real reasons.

i'm sure i'll see you all when i pop back now and again. the cafe does a mean jacket potato.

the lost world

right now i'm watching a documentary about steven hawking and how he proved that the world is being sucked slowly into a kind of warp thing made by the sun. he's said that stars shrink to the size of atoms and eat light, and that the entire of existence was once "infinitely small" and you could've fit the universe in your pocket. he can 'prove' that the universe began from a singularity, but doesn't know what a singularity is.

it's a very interesting theory, but one that he can't prove until he manufactures a black hole. which is impossible. i'm not denying that he is a very intelligent man. stupidly intelligent. but while he can put a load of maths and physics to his hypotheses, it is still speculation until it is demonstrated.

i think that black holes are created by space monkeys who build them using a machine that looks like a petrol generator with a bucket under it that you throw clam shells at. if you give the monkeys ikea furniture then they'll rustle up a new galaxy for you.

i can prove it with this diagram:

lonesome town

Beneath the ounces of foundation and mascara'd lids you can almost detect a sense of immense beauty. She hides it away under number seven and a layer of self depreciation. The late night holds a secret; some shocking encouragement so forth her lap is filled with a thorntons white chocolate easter egg.

Half eaten.

Melted milky magma coats her fingers and fingernails like something off-white and unspeakable. Her sweet banquet is momentarily blocked by the gaggle of unbalanced party goers rocking into the train, all high-heels and legs and giggles and indiscriminate flirting.

She sighs and places the egg back in its package. It nestles guiltily. Licking her fingers is her final battle.

inner space

a bunch of my energy has recently been directed to The Odd Cast. you should subscribe too it if you haven't already. do it here if you like:
subscribe to the odd cast

it's the hard knock life

yes, you are right; i haven't written in a while. not at length anyway. the age-old excuse will suffice - i've been busy at work dear. to be honest it's been a bit ridiculous and the last few months of last year drove me quite near to the edge of insanity. i was only ever at work, barely a spare moment to myself let alone to the ones i love. there was actually a point around mid-november where i realised i hadn't seen any friends or family for a month. four weeks! to be honest, that's just utter stupidity: work/sleep/work/sleep, for 28 days. nothing social in that time, only a selfless contribution to someone else's paycheck. this in the midst of a whole year of nightmarishly hard labour and dwindling social activity.

then a meeting, with some monkey who supposedly manages the company. "as a department we thrashed our targets to pieces this year, individually i have been instrumental in this and have taken on the work of someone in an entirely different pay scale. how about i get a pay rise and some indication as to when i will stop having to work 75 hour weeks?" said i.
"unfortunately the rest of the company didn't do so well so your department's contribution isn't really worth a rat's cock," came the reply, or something similar, "and we can't give you a pay rise now because you only had one 11 months ago and we can only look at salaries once a year."
"because of what reason?" me.
"because that's how it works." him.
"oh, that makes perfect sense. and what about the unreasonable amount of time that i've spent in this building over the last few months?"
"you won't find a job in this industry that allows you a 40 hour week, mate."
"don't call me 'mate' you ignorant patronising fuck."
(i may have paraphrased that a little for dramatic effect, but the sentiment was certainly there)

well, to cut a longish story short i handed my resignation in a few days later; when i found that i had spent 5 days in a constant state of teetering on the edge of losing my temper. bearing in mind that i've only lost my temper once before in my life and that was when when someone hit me with a mercedes, this wasn't a mind set i enjoyed wallowing in. so i quickly wrote a letter and gave it in.

it was a nice feeling. then i thought - i should get a new job, then..... um, yeah.

"you won't find a job in this industry that allows you a 40 hour week, mate."

except... i have.

here:

and they're going to pay me much more money.

suck on that you morale-destroying cocktard.

oranges are not the only fruit

i have recently spent a stupidly large amount of money on a lovely mac laptop. i will be running this (what i am typing on right now) and my windows based PC for the time being; subconsciously comparing the two i guess, whether i want to or not.

much as i am purposefully going to resist becoming one of those horrible self-righteous militant apple users that you encounter far too regularly, it does seem that OS Leopard is quite ridiculously a lot better that XP. no surprise there i suppose.

as long as i don't have to go any where near Vista, i'm a happy man.

the italian job

if - by some very strange and pleasant set of coincidences - the gorgeous girl i met today with a coat of the same name and trouble with her mackerel, is reading this... please do get in touch. this would be most agreeable.

super mario bros.

the odd cast

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the young ones

i casually look out of the side of my eye at the menu on his ipod; as i like to do when i'm sitting there waiting for my wheeled tube to reach its destination. i like to see what different people choose to hear when they adjourn. you see

he wears a conservative trenchcoat and business tie. grey makes cameos on his temples. his shoes are sensible, but to him a luxury. the celebrity page of a badly written free newspaper holds his attention.

he is listening to a dora the explorer audio book.

walk the dinosaur

for all of those thousands of readers out there who are completely enamoured by everything i do and say, you have another chance to update your life on my life on a regular occasion. me, shoelace and troubadour have just embarked on a slippery route to recording a podcast. i've bought a load of recording equipment and we've sat down and talked inanely for a few hours.

click here and you'll be whisked off to a page where you can download "The Odd Cast." eventually it will be on iTunes and you can automatically do it for free automatically. presently there's only the first episode, with more to come very soon. the first one is a bit rough, but bear with it they are getting awesome.

or just listen to it here:

The Odd Cast Episo...

of course you may just be completely bored by it, but it passes the time on a journey to work now and again doesn't it?