The erratic adventures of shay & jax
So, the UK has voted, and the system that we rather optimistically refer to democracy has rewarded us with one of the most unrepresentative parliaments I can recall. And before anyone accuses me of being a poor loser, the fact is that the UKIP loons should currently have 80-odd seats . The prospect of a Tory/UKIP coalition should terrify any sane person, but at least that would be an honest reflection of the will of the nation. As it stands, our system effectively renders the votes of 2/3 to 3/4 of the electorate meaningless.
And then we wonder why people are disaffected with politics. What I do find quite interesting is how Tory voters seem to be keeping their heads down about the whole thing – or at least they are in public. Three people I know have ‘fessed up. Given that one of them is the daughter of a hedge-fund manager, and the other is a Conservative councillor, I wasn’t surprised by their votes, but I know quite a few other people who are Tory supporters who have been very quiet about the whole thing. Possibly they are feeling a bit sheepish about having cast a vote for five more years of kicking the poor, the disabled, and anyone that doesn’t have a Home Counties accent. The main defence I’ve heard offered for voting Tory is that ‘they’re better than Ed Milliband’. Now I would struggle to argue with the fact that Mr Millibean has spent much of this election campaign making himself look like an unelectable fuckwit, but is he really worse than the party that told us, up front, that it planned to make the most vulnerable poorer, repeal the Human Rights Act (and apparently replace it with something that's like, totally different, and loads better) and jimmy the next election in their favour? Then again, when you’re choosing between a well-meaning idiot and a slick sociopath, it almost makes turd sandwiches and giant douches look appealing. And Argyle are still crap. Anyway, at least my beard is looking good. Priorities an' shit.
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The Algorithm were very good, as were the local support acts, but the cellar bar venue was the hottest fucking place on earth. I watched a commendably energetic pit of people who must've struggled to get served at the bar going mental in front of a strip of blur carpet that served as a stage, while sweat rolled down the walls. Classy as fuck! And I reckon that I had 10 years on everyone else in the audience. I've become that old dude who made 18yr-old-you wonder what the fuck he was doing in the club. Happy days...
Anyway, I skipped the Hardcore night tonight and caught up with season whatevs of True Blood. Bloody awful. It's declined since the high point of seasons 2-4, but I thought that the last season was a very ropey and the first two episodes of this one don't look any better. I mean, it's never exactly been high art, but it was good, pulpy fun for a while. Now it just seems to be a rehash of old ground, utterly gratuitous sex scenes and Sookie become ever more annoying. Ho-hum. The TV series of From Dusk Till Dawn looks promising, and I still have True Detective on the Sky+. As Rice might say: Two of the best things ever, surely? Or three, as boobs tend to come in pairs (they mate for life, I hear). So three of my favourite things. Then again, could a moustache could be considered a pair of moustaches, one either side of the philtrum? So three, or possibly four of my favourite things, depending on definition. Wow, that intro really lost steam, didn't it? Any way there were some fine examples of both (or all, as the case may be) at the second Kinky & Quirky show I've attended. Although not on the same person, which is terribly inefficient. And in Chichi Revolver the hula hooper there was also a heavily inked lady, which is another of my favourite things, and a chap in a fantastic cricket jumper/jacket/smart trousers combo, which is another! This brings us up to, what? Six? I'm not sure, I lost count (and the will to live -Bread's brain) some time ago. * I had a very mild existential crisis on how to spell this shortening of legend. Ledge sounds right, put is a word in its own right. Oh the perils of actually caring about not misspelling stupid slang... The photos are courtesy of someone we met on the night: Max D. Fontaine (Paul to his friends). The D stands for Danger. Or, if you believe his girlfriend, for Dickhead. There's every chance that these were taken with the lens that Paul got a 'hard earned' discount on by flirting outrageously with a gay Jessops shop attendant, while his girlfriend stood next to him. That's dedication, that is. The Boss and I thoroughly enjoyed the show, the after-party performance by Mr B the Gentleman Rhymer, and the pleasant few hours we spent chatting to the future Mr and Mrs D. Fontaine. We blew far too much money, including buying a painting of probably our favourite burlesque performer, but had a fine old time doing it. And I got to dress up like I was attending a Countryside Alliance rally. Spoddon. Not a great deal to report in Popmundo. I blogged a little bit for Shay, promised TLBTF a follow-up message, and then have either been drinking, sleeping of being hungover since. Sorry flower!
Anyway, nothing else to see here - carry on with whatever it was you were doing. Not much to add really, but I'm trying to make these a little more regular at least. V is mooching in LA. She went to meet someone new, who subsequently left town. As she as nothing else planned, she may as well lurk at her apartment for a few more days. Shay was inspired by Banjo's new ti- err, new-found talent to write a quick 16 bars that might get worked up into a song soon. And the weddings of the decade are coming up in Melbourne on the 12th and 14th (assuming Phil and/or Joni don't bottle it...)
I'm off to a burlesque show with the boss on Saturday, and it will be a chance to see Mr B the Gentleman Rhymer live. I'm undecided about him. He's never going to be a great MC, but I've found some of his work entertaining. A good live performance will certainly swing me into fandom. Plus it's a chance to dress up; I can be a dapper motherfucker when I try. I think that's about it, unless anyone has any specific requests? Bagel wants another blog post, and who am I to disobey? Unfortunately, not a lot has happened with V or Shay lately. So...
In the wider popoverse, Rice wrote one of the best blogs ever for Joni. It mixed the usual insanity with old-skool geekiness, and brought a smile to the face of someone who grew up on Steve Jackson's Fighting Fantasy books and text-based adventure games. I know I cuss her, but it's only because I love her. The lady behind the Foulquiers (nee Cookie - as another Cookie has some along I'm going to revert to TLBTF for clarity) is doing some fantastic writing that may expand beyond the popoverse. I had an enjoyable couple of hours proofreading (proofreading being a politer way of saying 'being a picky fuck') some of her stuff last night, and I am looking forwards to seeing where it goes from here. And outside in the real world, the building design that won the two local awards also picked up Best Small Development at the southwest regional awards, and will be going forwards to the national awards in London in November. I've also been asked to be my mate's best man, so I am currently researching pubs and B&Bs in Dartmouth. In the meantime, V is quiet and Shay is quieter. You must all be very relieved! The other day I posted someone a 2000 character PM. Well, nearly - I think I had about 8 characters left on the limit. Proof, if proof is needed, that I talk too much! In fairness, Shay only really did two things and said one line of dialogue; the rest of it was fleshing out the scene/off topic whittering [delete as applicable]. Perhaps I should interview for Test Match Special; I'd be great at talking about cake, and birds, and hanging baskets, and passing buses rather than just dealing with the cricket. :D It's the Boss' birthday today. It was twitchy bum time for a bit as to whether her prezzie would turn up in time - the perils of being a disorganised fuck, I suppose. This tends to filter through all aspects of my home life (I'm surprisingly together at work) which means that V and Shay are still to pull their thumbs out of their bums and get back on the road. Other than that, I don't think there's any real in-game news to report. I am currently being slightly intrigued by this image that has worked its way onto my FB feed: Why is 50 Cent doing a camp double-teapot? Why is Remy Ma wearing day-glo briefs over her jeans? Is it some sort of superhero thing? Who is going to look into the camera viewfinder that is pointed straight up? Is it for a giant cameraman, or are these miniature versions of everyone's favourite mumbling oaf and attempted murderess? So may questions... England's defeat last night means that the majority of pre-tournament predictions that we wouldn't get out of the group stage should prove to be true. It's actually been interesting to see a tournament lead-up without images of Stevie G leering from the front pages of the tabloids alongside the words "WE CAN WIN THIS!" reaching saturation point. Yeah, there was some tub-thumping in the lead up, and there'll be some moping and reactionary nonsense about sacking the lot of 'em today, but unreasonable optimism beforehand and end-of-the-world disappointment after defeats are a part of football. I wanted England to win, but I'm not a slavering fan by any means. My slightly detached view is therefore that we've lost two close games by the odd goal. We are what we are - a top 15-20 side with a bunch of decent pros, no world class player, and Phil Jagielka. I few of my celtic friends and family are enjoying themselves, but it's all good fun. Opportunities to sneer at Scottish, Welsh and Irish defeat come around so much more often but I don't bother - I think the fact that I don't actually give a toss infuriates them even more. Okay, I have a wife to attend to, so I'll leave you with an image from the first decent FB page recommendation I've had in forever, the extraordinarily cute Liz Katz: And a track from the new(ish) Glitch Mob album Love Death Immortality, which has been improving my productivity at work no end. They've come a long way from being the glitch-hop group I fell in love with back in 2008. Their new album is more a collection of festival crowdpleasers than their more introspective (and better) 2010 debut album. I'm not convinced the album is as good as some of the praise I've seen lavished upon it, or as bad as Sputnik Music made out - then again, rules for Sputnik reviews seem to be 'if anyone has ever heard of them they must be rubbish' - but it's a solid 3/3.5* effort. The first single Can't Kill Us is closer to the sound they had when I first got into them and is maybe my favourite track on the album, but I think I'll annoy you all with something a bit more hectic: Whilst having a bit of lunch on Thursday I listened to an interview with Arsenio Hall where he pointed out that he thought Vanilla Ice was a fantasist and a bit of a bellend. No great shocks there then. But, for reasons best known to themselves, some clown had posted a rant about 'some chick' who gets naked and then doesn't want to have sex. His complaint seemed to be that if you don't rape her she'll tell all your girlfriends that you're not a real man, and if you do rape her you will, quite unreasonably, be arrested and thrown in jail.
And then someone called him a beta fag. *le sigh* Now let's put aside the fact that any woman that changes her mind during a sexual encounter is probably quite unlikely to be sitting around drinking coffee with friends the next day going "and the fucking little beta fag didn't even slap me around and rape me! Where have all the real men gone?" What exactly does being an alpha/beta male have to do with being a bit rapey? And yet it was brought up because certain kinds of men feel the need to constantly make out that they are peak of masculinity. And it does my fucking head in. Now look, I don't have any problems with masculinity. I'm a short, fat hairy dude with a beard - no-one is ever likely to accuse me of metrosexuality. I grew up listening to hip hop and hardcore punk, two musical styles not exactly renowned for for being overwhelmed with touchy-feely New Man types. Even so, it seems that cult of the alpha (and the closely linked cult of the Dominant) is everywhere at the moment, with a small but vocal collection of numpties opining on how all women are bitches and sluts (presumably this does not include their mums, but I suppose you never know) and the relative merits of creatine brands, brah. That'll push humanity forwards then. And yes, the cult is alive and well in Popmundo. Think about it: how many male characters are handsome, sauve, dominant, infallible and hung like a babies arm? Too many, that's how many. And it doesn't seem to matter whether the writers are male or female. At least we are, thankfully, relatively free of the more aggressive kind of meatheat - small mercies. Okay, rant over I guess. There's nothing wrong with a well written alpha male, although they are probably going to be an pretty unlikable character. But, hey, it worked for 50 Shades and Banshee, right? The problem (in inverted commas - it's probably only a problem for grumpy bastards like me) is when they are presented as good guys rather than deeply flawed. That's having your cake and eating it. Right! Enough of that! First person to call me a beta fag gets a biscuit. Shay and V have been a little sleepy the last few days because I have either been drunk or asleep (or lifting, or fucking bitches brah!*) Those 'let's pop out for a quick pint' evenings are deadly... I promise to be a little more talkative next week. You must all be over-joyed... :P * If the boss sees that, I'm going to get such a whithering look... I hope yours were as good as mine!
I'm not long back from a (not particularly) sunny jaunt to the seaside with a bunch of friends. Much fun was had, mostly eating and drinking too much as we avoided going out in the rain, but a few of us also too a trip to the Execon comic convention, where I pretty much stole sketches from the super talented Dom Reardon and Steve Sims (as we all know, this blog is followed by numerous celebrities*, so if you're reading, guys, £5 a pop is way too cheap!) I will be uploading them to the Book of Faces this evening, so I may well put them up here too. We also played Cards Against Humanity, which is brilliant as long as you play with a bunch of mates as despicable as you are. :) Anyway, I'm catching up again now. After a few weeks of being back, it seems like Alanna is going to take another dirt-nap, which is a shame. Hopefully her PM (aka Tapioca) will continue to lurk here. Apologies to Butters for not being about more for Madi's big day. Let me know if I'm behind on anything else. Pics of heavily tattooed women, cricket references and links to weird music you'll hate will return next blog - promise! *Okay, just one, but that's one more than you lot! :D PS - I've scanned the sketches, and here they are: So, in Hip Hop parlance, shit got hectic for a bit there, as work went (even) crazy(ier) and I had to get stuff done for my dad's 60th birthday party. Everything came together reasonably well though, and this week should be a bit easier. Not much to report on the Popmundo front. Shay is currently at his new gaff with Océ, gettin' snuggly. It looks like he'll be going to Madi's Hen party dressed as a bearded lady. And, most importantly, one of my all time favourite Popo-nutters - Δlanna - returned from her coma. Let's hope it lasts as she's a great character. :)
I was 'working' from home on Monday and Tuesday, and mostly catching up on news and tumblr, for a heady mix of informed comment and ranting loons. One thing that's got my goat is the recent kerfuffle about Belle Knox, the Duke student and pornstar who was outed by one of her wonderful classmates, leading to threats of physical and sexual violence. In fairness, there's every chance the guy who outed her didn't think it would come to that, because there's every chance that he never stopped to think at all. Now it's not difficult to argue that if you make pornography while you hang out with large groups of young, perpetually horny people, there's every chance that your secret is going to come out, but that's not really the point here, is it? Let's be optimistic and assume that he's some kind of moralising busy-body, or just another troll fucking with people for the lulz, because it's pretty easy to extrapolate much less pleasant reasons as to why he was moved to blow her cover. But what's really annoyed me is the way that the bickering between both paid an unpaid commentators seems to go down the lines of: "Well she was gonna get found out anyway." "Yeah, but now she's getting threatened." "But she'd just parlaying that into media coverage." "But the media are portraying her as a terrible person." "But how can she make porn and call herself a feminist?" "But she chose to make those scenes." "But they perpetuate the idea of women as accessible sexual objects for men!" "But she says they make her feel empowered!" Maybe I'm too engrained in the BBC culture of 'balance', but I don't understand why people can't grasp how all those things can be true at the same time! I do believe that she genuinely enjoys that kind of sex because I know men and women who feel empowered by being sexually submissive. I believe she made her own choice to make the scenes she made but, like all of us (especially you young people *coughButterscough*) she's a product of a patriarchal society which sends out messages, every day and through every form of media, that to be a woman is to be a sexually available object (and yeah, I'm well aware that men are under similar pressures too, but not to the same degree; if this had happened to a guy he'd probably be getting free drinks, not death threats!) The problem is that people seem to want to boil arguments down to the binary so that they can a) not have to think too hard about difficult issues and b) bully people into telling them that they are right. It's like the situation in Ukraine; we have a section of the population that, having realised that Western governments might not be the even-handed purveyors of liberty and justice for all they purport to be, now believe that anyone who opposes them must be the good guys. Y'know, like that nice Mr Putin... The idea that this might be two groups of shady motherfuckers playing power games to the ultimate detriment of a smaller independent country just doesn't seem to compute. I guess this is because that means they would have to do things like consider opposing opinions, fact check their sources, and think about things in depth. Far easier to just post glib shit on social media. *sigh* It seems I've got a little carried away and done a proper teal deer, so I will stop here. I was going to post some pictures of heavily tattooed women, as these pages have been woefully short lately, but given my little feminist rant earlier, it seems wildly inappropriate. As for cricket references, well it's just too depressing. :( Not just mine (although that too) but everyone else's it seems. People getting out and enjoying the start of spring, hopefully. :)
Really considered packing the whole Popmundo-thing in over the weekend, but I figured that if you act in haste, you repent at leisure. Shay and V will never be a success, but it doesn't take much to keep them ticking over. V is a bit of a lost cause, socially speaking, but I at least have an idea of what to do with her career-wise. Shay will remain mired in metal mediocrity, but I could probably get him out to meet some new people. I should probably blog the two-thirds of a song I wrote for him too, just so his blog isn't so depressingly nekkid. :P On the plus side, the sun is shining and beer festival season has started. I'm swamped at work though, so most weekday evening I shall be drooling on the sofa, watching the idiot-box. At least until the evenings get lighter, anyway. Hopefully your exams/work/whatevs go well. |
WTF?!This site contains out-of-character information for characters and events in the MMO Popmundo, as well as general navel-gazing and apologies for never updating. "If you are offended by words like: Shit! Bitch! Fuck! Dick! Ass! Whore! Cum!" Ice-T
Who the Hell?!
The author is a professional person in his mid-30s, old-school Hip Hop head, Punk Rock fan, Plymouth Argyle supporter, comic book reader, and general lo-fi nerd. He lives in the countryside with two cats and newly-wed wife, all of whom seem to be above him in the pecking order. He is a big fan of tea, fig rolls, H.P. Lovecraft, facial hair and quiffs. While MPB robbed him of his quiff-rocking dreams, he does sport a dope handlebar moustache. Categories
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