Saturday, August 04, 2007
Biffy Clyro- Folding Stars
Friday, August 03, 2007
My morning
8:02- turn on sink on for cat, vow to buy a kitty water fountain
8:05- head downstairs to read NME, er, foreign policy journal, before getting ready for work AKA throwing clothes in dryer for a quick de-wrinkling and spraying hair into Horrors-looking shape
8:50- put on makeup on in the car on the way to work (I'm not driving, of course).Listen to "Car Park Catchphrase" on Radio1. Moyles is amusing. Adore Jo Whiley.
9:05- make coffee. Coffee v.v.v.v. good and vital to my not falling back asleep
9:07- first attempt at re-formatting store business cards
9:09- mmmmmmm, coffee
9:15- give up on business cards. Jack around with stereo for a while. Seems like a Mark Ronson, Paul Weller, Aretha, Teenage Fanclub and Blur sort of day
9:20- make a second pass at fresh arrangement that I started on Thursday at 4:30PM. Goes better this time
9:25- text Kaz with important Kasabian, er, foreign policy-related information
9:30- second attempt at business cards
9:34- mmmmm, more coffee
9:38- divvy up samples stolen, ahem, OBTAINED, at gift show last week
9:45- phone rings. As person on the line is supa dupa annoying, play hot potato with phone. Am successful in avoiding convo
9:47- Mmmm, Diet Dr. Pepper
10:10- go outside to hang balloons on sale sign. As is extremely humid, sunglasses fog up immediately upon leaving air conditioning
10:11- hair goes straight to hell
10:15- go into cooler to get flowers for an order
10:17- emerge from cooler to hear a man talking loudly to my mom and co-workers from the showroom
10:17-the hair on the back of my neck stands straight-the-fuck up
10:17- Mom sends me a "Holy hell, what is going on?" look
10:17- grab my cell phone and head into Mom's office
10:17-call the store's line, and ask Mom if she wants me to call someone. She says "yes."
10:17-call Traci and ask her if her dad can come over, STAT
10:18- crazy tweaked-the-hell-out guy starts screaming about fireworks, potato salad and the Holocaust. Am not kidding.
10:20- call neighbor, who is married to an Iowa State Trooper, to get her hubby's cell phone
10:21- call cell phone. Leave VM
10:22- Tweaker starts ranting about how much he loves Jesus, and how he's also a country songwriter.
I'm like, "Dude, you can love Jesus as much as you want, but you're still off your head on Drano and anhydrous ammonia."
10:23- Notice that he has on a Iowa Hawkeyes hat. Just a coincidence, I'm sure;)
10:24- possible escape routes are running through head
10:25- Tweaker McTweakersons feels the need to prove that he is actually a budding Willie Nelson, and goes out to his car to get some examples of his work
10:26- we all freak the fuck out
10:26- Mom calls auto dealer next door and asks them to send someone with testosterone over
10:27- Tweakaleeza Rice reappears, bearing the fruits of his labor. An old Quad Cities Times and an issue of Country Weekly with Carrie Underwood on the cover. Am suspicious for some reason.
10:28- Tweaky tells us that he's not trying to scare us, he's just happy and loves the Lord. Strangely, I'm just as reassured by this as I am when a boy tells me that he's "just a nice guy, and women don't want nice guys......"
10:29- Tweaker Aaron Presley leaves the building. Mom casually goes over and locks the front door, then sprints for the work room
10:30- I stand near the window in the work room, and copy down Tweaker Limbaugh's license plate number, make and model of car, and a description of the person in the car with him. Am grateful that my hours of watching 'Law and Order: Criminal Intent' have finally paid off.
10:31- Tweaker Cruise whips out a paintball gun and starts waving it around in the parking lot
10:31- I hit the deck
10:31- Briefly think that if I die before I see Primal Scream, The Fratellis, Dirty Pretty Things, The View, Diamond Lil, Oasis, Kasabian or Grahhhhhmay in concert, I'm going to haunt the hell out of someone.
Bitchiest. Ghost. Ever.
10:32- They leave the parking lot10:33- Traci's bad self shows up, as does a guy from the auto dealership next door.
10:33- Being the daughter of the town's fire chief, Trace has the non-emergency police number programmed into her phone
10:34- call non-emergency number. Dispatcher is impressed with the amount of info that I gathered. Resist the temptation to tell her that it's all due to watching Dick Wolf productions (the non-Fred Thompson ones- he's just irritating to me)
10:39- Traci and the guy from next door leave. We re-lock the door
10:43- Oooo, new email. I'm so glad I can check it on my cell phone. And it's celeb gossip from QB! YAYS! Hmmm, what could it be about...... did Peter do something stupi.......
10:43- Oh, fuck-Tweakeriffic pulls back into parking lot. We hit the lights, and pull everyone into the office.
10:44- He tries to get in the door. Is unsuccessful
10:45- After leaping about, leaves parking lot
10:46- we freak the hell out
10:50- Traci calls and says that the cops have the guy pulled over at a gas station up the road, and are searching the car
10:52- cops let the guy loose, he dances in the parking lot, then heads north
Obviously, we were a bit wigged out. And may I point out, this all happened before 11AM and my third cup of coffee this morning.
Hopefully, tomorrow will be less exciting.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
If this is true,
If there were any doubts about Amy Winehouse being a trans-Atlantic sensation - there ain't now. The jazz babe has been afforded the ultimate accolade - the front cover of American Vogue - on the orders of ubercool editor Anna Wintour.
Ice queen Anna (pictured below) insisted on the singer after falling in love with her award-winning album Back To Black. Our Amy was then chosen to front the style bible's September issue, traditionally the highest-selling of the year.
A mag insider tells us: "An order from Anna Wintour is like a royal command and the order was 'get me Amy'. "Anna loved Amy's album so much that she just had to have her. But at the end of the day, it's not just about the music, it's about her rawness, her kooky style and her outspokenness. "She's very much a one-off - but incredibly talented with it."
The shoot by world-renowned photographer Bruce Weber was done in Miami where Amy and hubby Blake Fielder-Civil got married. Our insider continues:
"Wintour was instantly delighted with the outcome and thought Amy oozed cool."
Random Ten
2. Fuck Me Pumps- Amy Winehouse
3. Girls Just Want To Have Fun- Cyndi Lauper (WTF?)
4. When You Are King- Sadie Frost
5. Fire, Fire- M.I.A.
6. Manic Monday- The Bangles
7. Voulez Vous- ABBA
8. Take Me Out- Franz Ferdinand
9. Laid- James
10. An Innocent Man- Billy Joel
Bonus-
11. Butterfly- Corinne Bailey Rae
12. What's He Got?- Graham Coxon
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
My taste in music scares the shit out of me
The song is very Fabulous Thunderbirds.....and quite catchy, no?
But what's next? Fall Out Boy? I need a megadose of Libertines, STAT!
Stanley! Get down from there this instant!
The Damned Personals- 'Orange Felix'
from QB, via email
Monkeys On Film
MANCHESTER has been the back-drop for a radical new documentary following indie sensations the Arctic Monkeys as they played their landmark gigs at Old Trafford over the weekend.
The band, who played to around 100,000 fans over two nights at Lancashire County Cricket Ground, were being followed by uber-cool Britflick director Shane Meadows - the man behind acclaimed films This Is England and Dead Man's Shoes for a new rockumentary.
The Sheffield band are huge fans of the director - and even played clips of his films on big screens at the gigs on Saturday and Sunday night.The new film was made over five days, following the lads as they prepared for their massive open-air concerts and as they relaxed with family and friends at the five-star Lowry Hotel in Salford.But the twist is that the "star" of the film is fictional break-dancing roadie "Le Donk", a comedy character played by movie star Paddy Considine and first created by the actor with long-time collaborator Shane eight years ago.
Well, crap
MINNEAPOLIS (Reuters) - A highway bridge collapsed and hurled vehicles into the Mississippi River in central Minneapolis during evening rush hour on Wednesday, killing at least three people, officials and media said.
...
A 500-foot (150-metre) span of the eight-lane steel and concrete bridge, which was under repair, buckled and fell into the river and onto concrete embankments at about 6:05 p.m. CDT (2305 GMT).
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
The mysteries of fangirldom
-Comments about dimples
-mentions in idle conversation that certain footie-god guitar players resemble pirates and/or The Prince Of Darkness (no, not Justin Hawkins)
-Dan Abnormal in a dress
-Carlos just being his Timmy-baiting self
-Stanley's hoodies
- realizing that Graham Coxon's glasses=hot, hot sex- well, there's really no pattern....
Yeah, I'm a dork. And so are my friends. So I'm not embarrassed at all to reveal that I actually fell off my desk chair when reading the bit in bold-
Kasabian brought the iTunes festival to an emphatic close in London tonight (July 31st). Playing to just 300 people at London’s ICA on The Mall, in what was one of their most intimate performances in recent years, the band played a set which included hits from both their albums.
After opening with an empowering rendition of ‘Shoot The Runner,’ the bands lead singer Tom Meighan – who took to the stage in his now familiar black spectacles - thanked the crowd for “coming down to the nice little venue” before launching into first album smash, ‘Reason Is Treason.’
Meighan continually praised the crowd throughout the performance which he boasted – in reference to the intimate venue - was “like being in bed with Kasabian.”
JESUS, Thomas! You're trying to kill me and Kaz! Play nice!
I can't explain it, there's something about them, something about ALL the bands that I fangirl, that I really just adore. Glasses and comments about bed just confirm our how noble and pure our love is. Okay, maybe not so pure....
What. An. Asshole.
Upon hearing this, most normal people, fans or not, would hope for a speedy recovery for Christina. Not this dickhead, who is affiliated with Baptists For Brownback. This is his statement-
Christina Aguilera Finally Tastes Her Just Desserts!
Folks, sometimes God works in mysterious ways. He’ll do something for reasons you, in your puny mortal ignorance, cannot fathom. So be it. It is not up to us, and especially you, to question His wisdom. However, events such as tornadoes, earthquakes and the unending persecution of President George W. Bush can have the effect of drying up your well of faith. Jesus and I understand this, even as we rebuke you for your weakness.
But then, every once in a while, the Lord will take action so obviously necessary, so clear in its intent, that Christians everywhere find their faith-wells overflowing with the sweet, crystal waters of Christ’s eternal justice. Just such an event occurred over the weekend.
I am speaking of course of the “upper respiratory infection” that has struck down Miss Christina Aguilera, her “dancers” and various members of her “crew”. A “singer” of popular “music”, Aguilera has lost her voice, and has been forced to cancel a series of concerts in Australia. Lord only knows how this strumpet contracted her throat infection. I do not want to know. But suffice to say these lyrics, from one of her songs, provide a clue:
“Hush now, don’t say a word,
I’m gonna give you what you deserve.
Now you better give me a little taste
Put your icing on my cake
You nasty boy (boy)
Oh no, ooh there I go again
I need a spanking,
’cause I’ve been bad
So let my body do the talkin’
I’ll slip you that hot, sweet, sexy lovin’ (lovin’)”
Those words come from a song titled, “Naughty, Nasty Boy”, which may as well be the official anthem for harlotry and sodomy. One can only imagine how many unplanned sexual events occurred as a result of impressionable young minds being exposed to such filth.
But thanks to the majesty and power of God, the blaring megaphone of Chrisina Aguilera’s sexual terrorism has been muffled. And Praise Jesus is all I can say to that!
In Christ’s Name,
Tobin Maker, resident pastor, Baptists For Brownback 2008
Several things-
a- It's Just DESERTS, shit for brains
b- If God is sending natural disasters as "punishment for the unending persecution" of Bush, then why does the south keeps getting hit repeatedly? Hmmmmm?
3. Those lyrics are crap. However, I've seen dirtier. USUALLY SUNG BY MEN.
Oh, but that's DIFFERENT. They're allowed to be sexual beings. Not women, though. Nope, no sexy time for them. Unless it's for procreation, of course. And they shouldn't enjoy it, even then. Just lay back and think of the snowflake babies.
Also, if there's an "official anthem for harlotry and sodomy," I'm not thinking this is it. Isn't it interesting how everything boils down to the buttsex for these people?
Hmmm, what would be a good anthem for harlots and sodomites? To the iTunes!
4. Strumpet. Hee.
5. If this asshat is on the same wavelength as Jesus, which I somehow doubt, why is he taking pleasure in the misfortune of another? I must have slept through that bit at church. Was the edict to kick people while they're down issued during Jesus's "lost weekend," when He got liquored up and.....
Oh, that didn't happen, either. Sorry.
6. "Sexual Terrorism" would be a great name for a band. Someone needs to make this happen.
Crap like this makes me slightly crazy. But not as crazy as this motherfucker, though.
Monday, July 30, 2007
I'm just going to cry
HE admits he's barely strummed a guitar in the past year, but who needs rock 'n' roll when you can take the art world by storm instead?
Former Stone Roses legend John Squire unveiled his new artwork this week to critical and commercial acclaim.I hear that just a day after the launch he's already sold more than half of his collection - with pieces ranging from £2,000 up to
£28,000. And John tells me he's enjoying his art so much that he's now shelved-for good - any more music projects. He says: "Music and art are both disciplines that fulfil the same need, that is the need to create. I get the same buzz from creating a successful painting as writing a great song - it comes from the same place.
Contrary to
REPORTS in today's papers claimed the Spice Girls had found their much-needed fairy style godmother in the shape of Donatella Versace, who was said to be designing £200,000-worth of designer stage outfits for their comeback reunion tour - but a spokesperson for Versace has denied that this is the case. "It's simply not true," he told us. "I have no idea where the rumours have come from." The Nineties supergroup appeared under-styled and sartorially out of tune at the photo call to officially announce their reunion last month and, without the backing of one of the world's most highly-respected fashion houses, they may yet be delving deep into their wardrobes for their trademark platform trainers, leopard-print catsuits and Union Jack minis. (July 30, PM)
Go lads!
Arctic Monkeys have played their biggest shows of their lives, as they performed at Lancashire County Cricket Club's Old Trafford ground this weekend (July 28 and 29). Recalling generation-defining performances from the likes of The Stone
Roses at Spike Island or Oasis at Knebworth, the band performed to 100,000 people over the two shows.Despite suffering a bit of technical trouble on the first night (28), the band rose to occasioning, playing two storming sets.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Gorgeous
They call it manufactured pop, as if that was something to be ashamed of- but we are a manufacturing country. Down our conveyor belts come cars, and shoes, and biscuits, and guns and pop bands. Useful things and beautiful things. Things that make us go faster, and things that make us feel like we're going faster. Things that we love passionately for a day and then throw away, and things that we love passionately for a day, and then keep forever.
Being able to plan for and make our necessary things- instead of relying on accidents or nature to supply them- is one of the first signs that a society has achieved civilization. And what could be more necessary than pop? What else should we aim to pump out in such greedy, thrilling, giddying amounts?
The factory is a democratic place. Sometimes, people working on the floor come cruising in on a Monday morning, still wearing Saturday night's makeup, and Sunday morning's smile, and say "sod this." They pull off their hairnets, and jump on the conveyor belts themselves. They announce that they are pop stars, now. They make a band.
That's allowed, in the factory, because we are a manufacturing country, and that means we are also allowed to manufacture ourselves. We are allowed to change our futures. We are Girls Aloud.
And in the band that we manufacture, we don't have to smile, if we don't want to. We won't have dance routines that ruin our hair. We don't sing songs where we pretend we're scared, or that we can't run in our heels, or that we don't know exactly what we want. We don't need no beauty sleep. We think you're off your head. We text as we eat. We flirt while we work. We flick our finger to the world below. If we'd know, or if we'd care, we would have stood around the kitchen in our underwear.
When Jack Kerouac wrote On the Road in 1957, he said that the people that he oved the most were the Fabulous Yellow Roman Candles, who were mad to live, mad to talk. We saw it on a t-shirt once. But anyone who was mad to live wouldn't want to be a Roman Candle. Roman Candles are the rubbish ones. They're over in thirty seconds. They don't even spin, or fly. If we were a firework, we'd be a limousine full of dynamite. And we'd put the fire out with vodka. If we could be bothered.
If you know someone that sounds like us, we'll give you a tenner. If you like someone better than us, frankly, we don't care.We're Girls Aloud.
We're Made In Britain.