The Da Vinci Code
... was actually quite good. The film, I mean. The directing was excellent and the performances brilliant, spot on. It should be ensured that the screenwriter never work again however, some of the dialogue was just laughable. But yes, good film, nicely pieced together. I need to read the book I suppose. I do like my religious mythology and I'm sad to find that I wanted the premise of the film to be true. Any excuse for the Christian faith to be taken down a peg or two, I'm all for that.
Don't know what's happening to the website. It appears to be, as we webdesigners call it, "fucking up". We'll watch the next few days with eager anticipation. Hmmm.
I quite like The Kooks' album, for all concerned. I don't know if you get it with the CD, but the LP comes with a second live disc which is pretty good. It appears I've crossed almost entirely into Indie City. Sigh.
And after checking, the site appears to be reignited. Well, how quaint.
Oh Ricky
I heard that Ricky from the phenomenal Kaiser Chiefs was nearly killed in a hit and run - his jumping out of the way ensured that he escaped with minor injuries.
I laughed heartily, disrupted in my mirth by the realisation that he is still alive. Even so, I was compelled to write these lyrics.
Oh RickyI'm sorry Ricky for what I did
I didn't even try to slow down or skid
I'm sorry Ricky for what I'm to say
I just wanted the Chiefs to go away
Your lyrics are awful and your dress sense is shite
There's just nothing that you cunts can do right
And so when I saw you there in front of me
I put my foot down, hoping I'd be lucky
Ricky
Oh Ricky
I really wish you were underneath my car
I would have toasted your death
And cheered on your last breath
And told all my mates at the bar
You can hear this song at
www.myspace.com/tmdt
Oh Ricky
I heard that Ricky from the phenomenal Kaiser Chiefs was nearly killed in a hit and run - his jumping out of the way ensured that he escaped with minor injuries.
I laughed heartily, disrupted in my mirth by the realisation that he is still alive. Even so, I was compelled to write these lyrics.
Oh RickyI'm sorry Ricky for what I did
I didn't even try to slow down or skid
I'm sorry Ricky for what I'm to say
I just wanted the Chiefs to go away
Your lyrics are awful and your dress sense is shite
There's just nothing that you cunts can do right
And so when I saw you there in front of me
I put my foot down, hoping I'd be lucky
Ricky
Oh Ricky
I really wish you were underneath my car
I would have toasted your death
And cheered on your last breath
And told all my mates at the bar
You can hear this song at
www.myspace.com/tmdt
jikokeno
Crikey. How much time do I have? Should I do the complete what-happened-since-last-entry thing? Probably.
Well. First of all, lookie here! I finally managed to work out how to integrate the diary into the jikokeno look, which took me a small age to do. But it's done and it makes me feel all nice and that I've accomplished something. Simple things, and all that. But yes. Lookie, nice.
The weekend has been, for lack of a more profound and less overused word, awesome.
Spent Thursday night at Brenda's, of course, for House night is not something you miss. Plus, Bubonic Plague! How many medical dramas diagnose the black death! Haha, made me chuckle like a bastard.
Woke up Friday pretty early, did my bits and pieces on't internet and received the t-shirt delivery for the bar staff for the summer ball. I head into town with the shirts in my bag after a phone call from Lisa (met at the Enterprise School, remember?) asking me to find some orange wrapping paper. I don't find the wrapping paper, but I do find a sound system with a turntable, CD player, radio and tape deck, with speakers, all encased in an antique finished oak case. It is with a heavy heart that I admit to purchasing this beautiful thing for £59.99. I wish I had the cash to be doing things like this. I have about £60 in my business account, and if I'd have invested this £60 into it I could have at least got some business cards printed. Damn my impulsiveness. I had to phone cousin Emma to ask her to pick me up from town, given that my new buy was heavier than a Jonathan Bentley™.
Met Lisa for lunch and handed over the t-shirts. The rest of the WIN (That's Worcester Innovators' Network to you and me) joined us shortly after and we (yes, we, I agree to make the t-shirts for them and all of a sudden I'm a member; crazy.) spend the next hour or so putting stickers on cocktail stirrers and heading up to a classroom to play frisbee; we were giving out these frisbees to people who gave us their details so we decided to quality test them. They worked.
Got to The Dive (have I told you that our SU bar is called
The Dive?) at 8ish, meeting Graham and Nathan - both WIN members, though Nathan joined that night. The rest of the group followed suit, and with any luck I'll remember their names; Char, Matt (the head honcho), Lisa, Steve, Chris (I'm not sure if he was a member, but he's going out with Char), Lucy and Paul... the others are Sauri, Tonya, Alex and Rich, though they didn't come. The evening was pretty good, played pool, drank tons of Diet Coke, and didn't spend a penny. Seriously, I don't know what it was but I didn't even touch my wallet for the duration of the evening. Pretty fly.
Feeling pretty jazzed about the evening, I got in at about 1 and listened to
Hands by The Raconteurs; It was karaoke night at The Dive and I needed an antidote pretty sharpish. Went to bed and reawoke at half 7 on Saturday morning.
Met Lucy and Matt (giving me and Lucy a lift) at 9ish and we all went for a fry up. I had scrambled eggs on toast, which was pretty damn awful; I kicked myself as soon as everyone else was given their full Englishes, with their hash browns and perfect looking fried eggs.
Well, The Green Apples Co. have proved themselves to be fantastic; the t-shirts for WIN were flourescent orange with the WIN logos on the front and back, and they were done by GA - and they looked fucking brilliant. Top quality; I wasn't sure as it was the first time I'd used the printer I used but they came out fantastically. In bulk, they're super cheap too, I made quite a profit (if that's not Innovation I don't know what is); if only they were that cheap to make the individual ones, it'd take all the work out of it for me. Oh, incidentally, if you press alt+g, you too can experience the wonders of Green Apples.
We all went over to the SU at 10 and set up the stall; it was the day of the Summer Ball and WIN were the sponsors, hence the new uniform for us and the bar staff. And it was a brilliant day - there was Laser Quest and a bucking bronco and a bungee run and crazy golf and Gladiator style jousting and a free barbeque, and we managed to give away most of the frisbees and get shitloads of forms back - a good day. And I feel like part of the society as well, which is even better; I get on with everyone and I didn't feel uncomfortable at any point; never underestimate the power of the frisbee as a bonding tool.
We all dissipated at around 5, and I went home and instantly got changed - I've not worn anything that bright since I was 10, when I used to have shirts in every horrific colour there is. Went into town, had me a Maccy D and bought some munchies; chicken korma, pappadums, apple pies and Diet Coke. Met Wax Boy as I was cooking my korma as he was on't way to Tesco - got him to buy me 2 bottles of Diet Coke so I could get my free World Cup glass. I don't want any comments about this.
Dressed; black shirt, jeans, dug out my army boots and wore my silvery silky tie. Did my hair (haha) and wore my hat. I actually thought I looked pretty good, which isn't something that happens very often, so I was quite chuffed. Met Lisa, Paul and Nathan at the Dive and once everyone else had arrived the WIN lot sat around to judge the ideas competition we'd done throughout the day. We picked the winner, and got into the Dive.
The DJ set was pretty shite, but it served as a talking point between me and Char, who have pretty similar tastes in music (not that I subconsciously and instantly judge people based on their musical tastes or anything), though she does like the Kaiser Chiefs, which I had to tell her about. It was pretty awesome, we just hung around throughout the night, occasionally dancing to the one good song they decided to play and she's awesome to talk to. Course, she has a boyfriend. I don't think it's actually possible for me to start to like a girl who isn't already attached. In fact, looking back, that might by an impossible. Christ.
The Lines came on next, the fellas who won The Battle Of The Bands a couple of months ago, and they were fucking brilliant. They stayed away from the normal uni band powerchord and songs of heartbreak shite and played some inventive and danceable indie music... I wasn't surprised, however, to see The Stone Roses listed as one of their influences on their
MySpaz page.
Chappers and Dave, who apparently are the sidekicks to a couple of DJs on Radio One, came on then, and their set was fantastic. They engaged the audience and played music to dance to! Seriously, I can't remember what came before it but Feeder's Buck Rogers is always on hand to make me dance like a bastard. And dance like a bastard I did.
Once Chappers and Dave had finished, god himself appeared. Well, you could have mistaken him for god, given the amount of fuss that was made. We couldn't leave the humid and suffocating club because "the area's being secured for Trevor Nelson".
Trevor fucking Nelson. I'd never heard of the guy before but I already hated him. Was he so important that he needed the area to be secured? If he was that important, he wouldn't be DJing at The University of fucking Worcester, would he? But that's not all. He played terrible music. Now, I was in the mood to dance around, I didn't particularly care what to at this point, but He played slow, laid back R 'n' B. Oh yeah, and Gnarls Barkley's Crazy, which had already been played twice throughout the day - that's bad DJing in my opinion, and I'm hardly a connosieur. We all left about 15 minutes into his set. Complete tossbag.
So, an awesome night. Jazzed up, I come home and write a song which is pretty negative but encompasses my feelings at the point. I just get like a euphoria going after nights out; the dancing, the friendship, the good times, man.
Woke up at around 2 on Sunday afternoon. Didn't do that much after that; showered, dressed, ate a breakfast of pappadums and apple pies, wrote all of my songs and poems into my new hardback book (I noticed that on
deviantART and the
FOruM that they were all just jumbled around and I wanted them in the one place) and set off into town - it was about 4pm at this point and I wanted to buy the new Kooks record, forgetting completely that town might be shut due to the Sundacity of it. Got to HMV at 4.30, and it was just closing. Ran in, got the record, paid, got out. Got a taxi to Brenda's; I was carrying a week and a half's worth of laundry, and that shit's heavy.
And here I am. Conclusion. It's just started to throw it down, and I mean that. It's not falling down, it's being fired with celestial water cannons. Poor Paulos, he's got to come home from work in this. I'm getting a lift home. That's pretty awesome.
