Man In Black

So I'm relatively certain I've written before about my love of Johnny Cash.

About my rad JC tee, as illustrated above, with the just-as-rad tee belonging to the one and only Chris Hall. About the bad January week a few years back in which I didn't open my curtains once, barely left my room, and listened to Johnny Cash on repeat [this was before anyone uttered the words "antidepressants"]. About the first time I worked on a film set - a couple weeks' working with the Production Designer - and got paid expenses - and a burned copy of the Johnny Cash Unearthed boxset. About how 'Girl From The North Country' with Bob Dylan is one of my top five all time favourite songs. About the amazing BBC docs and old Jools Holland footage they aired after Cash's death. About how when we got robbed a couple of years ago, two Johnny Cash LPs I'd ordered had turned up and when I walked in the house and discovered we'd been burgled [and once over the horror of having had my laptop nicked] I wondered aloud at the fact that these two amazing LPs had been left sitting on the table and that the burglars hadn't wanted them. About how recently Johnny Cash is pretty much all I've been listening to, on repeat...

A friend was telling me how someone she knew had seen that Walk The Line film and gotten into Cash as a result - but said she only wanted to buy the film soundtrack, as she didn't know if she'd actually like the original material. *Retarded*. It was a pretty good film, but face it, there ain't nothing like the original.

While I'm here, I should also say, y'all should check out the Million Dollar Sessions - Cash, Carl Perkins, Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis; all in the studios at Sun Records, jamming, and Sam Phillips just left the tapes running...


Oh and also, on a totally different note, I know I wrote about how the Cobra Starship song was on repeat a couple weeks ago. My love has grown greater since I read the hilarious bio on their site - CobraStarship.com - and the fact that my lovely friend Alex Suarez of Ivy League is playing bass on tour with them. Godspeed, Cobra Starship.

Get Busy Living or Get Busy - Being Turned Into Rubber Dolls??

From: Dan
To: Me
Subj: I'll get you this for Christmas

LOLOLOL

Thanks Dan. You know me too well...

multitasker

So earlier on I was listening to East Village Radio archives [this computer is so rubbish it doesn't even have itunes or something similar to play CDs] - in particular last week's Misshapes radio show:

Girl: "He used to come to Misshapes a whole lot... He had funny hair-"
Geo: "There's a lot of people with funny hair at Misshapes, let me tell you."

LOL.


So anyway, back to the multitasking: right now I'm currently swinging between three jobs. Once I've finished writing this it's back to jumping between doing stuff for Lula, for C&B/Littl'ans, and then perhaps for the job I'm actually here being paid for. But everyone has already left for the day - for the record, it's only 3:30pm, no wonder the NHS is in a state - and I'm solo, so the incentive to work is nil.

TONIGHT: Ladies, Gents, small furry creatures, head on down to The Spitz [Commercial Street, E1 - nearest tube is Liverpool Street] and be aurally assaulted [in a *good* way] by the delightful Littl'ans...

[New Yorkers - never fear, we're bringing them to you this fall...]

this one time, at band practice...

Who the fuck wants to work during a London heatwave?? I bunked off work to go to band practice and photoshoots, and discovered this:



Why did no one tell me they'd built a beach in East London?!? It's between Brick Lane and Commercial Street. How brilliant? I do miss the beach being a mere [40 minute or so] subway ride away. And yeah, okay so a real beach with some sea would be better, but it's still a neat idea.

I felt a little sorry for the boys having to rehearse in an unventilated basement during this weather, gotta say. They sounded really good.



But clearly the tambourine player felt he didn't need to practice too much...



So me, Ronnie and Jackie disappeared up to the other end of Brick Lane to go get beigels. Mmmmm.

I realise I've only been back in a shitty 9-5 office job like - what, ten days or something? - but I do relish the days of freedom. Office jobs suck. If only freelancing was financially sustainable [big words].

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

*Umm possible spoiler, if those kinda things bother you*

Hey Kevin Smith, does the new Superman movie [surprisingly better than I thought it would be. Wasn't really to bovvered about seeing it, but I actually enjoyed it. I didn't, however, enjoy the broken A/C in the cinema, on one of the hottest days. Oy.] answer your old questions??

Brodie: It's impossible, Lois could never have Superman's baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle the sperm? I guarantee you he blows a load like a shotgun right through her back. What about her womb? Do you think it's strong enough to carry her child?
T.S. Quint: Sure, why not?
Brodie: He's an alien, for Christ sake. His Kyrptonian biological makeup is enhanced by earth's yellow sun. If Lois gets a tan the kid could kick right through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular chicks is with a kryptonite condom. That would kill him.

[Mallrats, 1995]

holy heatwave, batman

supposedly the hottest day of the year so far, the hottest day in july on record. it's about 99F out there. my offices have no AC. this is the thermostat in the hallway. i need a block of ice, stat.

summer nights

That letter I wrote to British summertime a few entries back clearly worked. We've been smacked with a heatwave. And of course there's no a/c on public transport. Or in my office.

It does mean we turn all continental and eat out in the backyard, with our mix-and-match chairs and bbqs that take hours to fire up [and then become unuseable after my sister leaves marshmallows on the grill then forgets about them].

Say NO to PDAs

I got the night bus back from Camden last night after a fun-filled Friday night of... work. We were at Hammersmith bus station, driving round the central hub and there was a couple shagging against the wall. No jokes. Dunno if they thought they couldn't be seen or whatever, but there they were in their full Friday night glory, having sex against a grey metal wall at Hammersmith bus station.

*Classy*

i can see the venom in your eyes

i know, i know, everyone has already blogged about the cobra starship/snakes on a plane song, but i have to admit i too am totally obsessed with the song. and the video.

we've been working all evening [it's now twenty past midnight and we're still here...] on stuff that's like so not "discemo", as i believe it's now being called, but i just can't stop listening to this track.

not cobrasnake

friday afternoon

Our boys:
[well, our boys + Pete Doherty. And the fuzz. And some other hangers on]

Join us, my friends:

Crash & Boom

Littl'ans

New York, we should be seeing you for CMJ. Woot woot.

odd dreams

I had a dream last night that my dad was having an affair with Teri Hatcher, by text message.

And I woke up thinking "that's weird, dad doesn't even know how to use text messages."


Yeah, 'cause that's the weird part...

thursday night

Come one, come all, to The Fly on Thursday night. Come and see aforementioned Dior models and rockstars and hipsters who seem so young that looking at them wrong could land you in jail. But what's a night out without a little risk, eh??

dear british summertime

please come back, all is forgiven.

yours fondly,

the ever hopeful british public
xo

they rawk we bankroll

Having drinks & dinner with rockstars/producers/Dior models & Chanel muses is a guaranteed way to feel like Plain Jane 2006.

But hurrah for new projects!

On that note: I started a new temp gig today [finally] - it's to do with caring for old people [in an admin capacity] and there are whole filing cabinets labelled "R.I.P."

Oh no, this job isn't even the slightest bit depressing...

oh dear

Cost per can of Strongbow Super bought from an off-licence and drunk whilst sitting on the traffic island opposite Camden Palace [or do I mean Koko?]: £1.00

Having to get up early after an unintentionally drunken night before that ended up in East London talking French to some kids at the bus stop: painful

Train ride to Highbury & Islington complete with headache: £2.50

Juice to combat dry-mouth and nausea: £1.48

Minutes arrived early for appt thus allowing for fresh air to blow the cobwebs away: 20

People walking dogs or pushing strollers on Highbury Fields: too many to count

Getting to the appointment and realising I'd had my flies open the whole time: priceless...

ribbit

Frog. Sneaking in on guest lists. Strongbow. Polaroids. Random people. Hot boys. Boys in bands. DJs. Photographers. Sounds like old times…

Ended up missing both bands that played [one of whom was Good Shoes that I’d actually wanted to see] ‘cause we were sat on the floor talking to the Blaggin’ Scenesters. Using This Scene Is Dead as a fabulous excuse to approach anyone and everyone. Some kids getting the whole LNP/Cobrasnake thing, but most not – but still happy to pose. Talking to one guy about how LNP had become an excuse for people to take off their tops – and within seconds: