Freshly Spilled Thoughts

I had a weird dream last night, where I briefly went into bungling crime. With no prior explanation, I was immediately in what must have been a bank vault with some other bloke I had no prior recollection of, who was as amateur as they come. I have no idea how or why I ended up in there.

All of a sudden, he stuffs his pockets with wads of illegitimate cash and I’m standing there thinking, “WTF, I need to get out of here and I’m inexplicably with this dufus“. He signals me to take the rest of the cash remaining. By this stage, there don’t seem to be many other options, so I pick up what’s left in the bag and we go.

Adrenaline surges through me.

This isn’t how I would have done things. Not even close.

We made our way out of the vault and there are cops already waiting. At this point, my unplanned associate pulls a gun and they reluctantly back off. We get out of there and into the daylight by the skin of our teeth. I know it’s just a matter of time before they catch us, and all I want to do is give the cash back and be free.

F*ck the proceeds of crime. Freedom wins. 

I must have had this dream because I was talking about Bonnie and Clyde yesterday, so let’s finish up with a few more words of imagined wisdom from Bonnie in the afterlife.

I’ll leave the rat-a-tat-tatting to her….

Elegy with a Trigger Finger

They say love kills,
but they don’t say how sweet the aim feels
when it’s shared.
We were poetry in crossfire,
a headline in waiting,
a kiss with a timer.

Now I watch the world survive itself,
each soul robbing time in slow motion.
Me? I still keep one hand on the wheel,
one eye on the past
because the getaway never ends.

This old Miami Bass video from the early 90’s called “One Leg Up” by Half Pint is pure filth (for want of a better expression).

It used to be on The Box, back in the day, before YouTube and the internet were a thing and I distinctly remember it being on a lot…

LOL it’s so bad it’s almost good, although I don’t think I will be listening to it in public.

“Dean, what you listening to?”
“Erm… One Leg Up by Half Pint”
“I’ve never heard of that. Was he trying to cut down on alcohol?”
“Not exactly. There was this thing in the early 90’s called Miami Bass where people shook their asses a lot”
“Yeah?”
“It was a 90’s thing”

Whatever you think about this track, one thing for sure it the energy in it is absolutely insane. Nobody needs caffeine while this thing is playing. Apparently the main guy was drafted in because people went crazy whenever he was around.

Imagine him as a warm up guy for gameshows. Oh dear, we don’t need the studio audience doing this sort of thing do we.

I always wonder how they cast people in these kinds of videos. It probably went something like this:

“We’ve got a video thing we’re doing for a track, where we just need you to shake your ass and put one leg up. Interested?”

There’s people that actually said “Yes” to that. Beats stacking shelves in Asda I guess.

“I was going to work for NASA and become an astronaut but the Miami Bass scene came along during studies and I got distracted.”

The day will come when people will proudly announce: “I can still do one leg up at my age and I don’t need a tri-walker.”

That’s a victory of sorts isn’t it. Right, that’s enough lewdness for one day!

If Bonnie hadn’t met Clyde, we’d probably never have ever seen a printed poem written by her.

Yet Bonnie Parker was the talented one, with her gift for poetry.

Sort of tragic isn’t it really; Bonnie being the moll with a knack for the written word.

Fame and notoriety gives you the platform for the talent. Talent speaks for itself.

What would Bonnie say today if she was speaking from the afterlife to the modern world as it is now?

Maybe something along these lines:

The Digital Outlaw

The headlines forgot my name,
But hearts still play the same game.
New masks, same ache,
New screens, same fake,
And fire still answers to flame.

I’m up so early this morning that the birds aren’t even twittering yet 🐦🐦‍⬛🦜.

I love this time of day – you can just sink into your thoughts for a bit before the world wakes up and prods you in the ribcage.

As SNESDrunk once said, “You have a great rest of your day.”

Which at the time of writing is pretty much all of it…

… some say it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

I liked this one as well…

An actual photograph of a Banksy artwork in real life + a few silly additions from moi…

I really miss the days of rap that told a story.

None of this coffee shop shit by the likes of Stormzy.

Gang Starr were legends in their own lunchtime. I never knew about him (Guru – one half of the duo) when he was alive, but this one’s a banger:

It’s called Lovesick…

I was touched today by someone at my old gym unexpectedly leaving a nice comment
on the book of faces.

I have blurred out some of the details for privacy reasons…

It might seem weird, but I do clap without realising to motivate myself to the next set.

In the gym I am in war mode.

Strictly Come Dancing is such a fake show. It’s full of people pretending to be so happy they are dancing, they’d have you believing that when they leave the dancefloor, an official from Camelot hands them a check for £10 Million. After that they get whisked off to a tropical island to sip Pina Colada for the rest of their days.

It’s not the dancing I have a problem with, it’s the people falsely smiling continuously like fully paid up members of the Stepford Wives. I don’t know what the male version of that is, but they’re the same as well.

Not even a smurf on crack looks as happy as they do.

I can just imagine the floor managers/producers telling all contestants and paid up members of the fan club to “Smile your tits off as soon as they say we’re on air. The viewing public are depressed and we need to make them believe there are happy people in the world that don’t shovel an ungodly amount of Prozac down their necks in between meals”.

I think it’s actually some kind of cult. If there’s such a thing as a learning to dance cult, that is surely it.

Fake as f*ck. I know the Queen wouldn’t have put it that way, but I just did. Fake happiness is the worst kind. I’d rather watch an interview with Lou Reed telling journalists they are the lowest form of life. At least he meant it.

Honesty and authenticity is in short supply these days, dear reader. Everyone is pimping their wares for a dollar.

Goooooooood morning Vietnam! It’s 0600 hours. What does the “O” stand for? O my God, it’s early! Speaking of early, let’s hear it for that Marty Lee Drywitz. Silky smooth sounds, making me sound like Peggy Lee…

You know when you think it’s a good idea to put 100kg on one of those things you push up and down the gym?

Well, I went overboard into full on Rocky Mode, up and down it so many times I lost count.

It’s not even a rookie mistake, it’s sheer folly.

Seems like a good idea at the time.

Know what I did two days later?

Interval training on a treadmill, sprinting for 60 seconds at a time.

Men are stupid. Throw rocks at them.

Extra. Extra. Read All About It

I sharpened the obsidian quill and penned two new blog posts:

If I Had To Write A Personal Ad…

and

When God Lived In Kentish Town

King Harold II met his maker at the battle of Hastings, after being shot in the eye with an arrow.

Is there a more epic fail in the history of the world than that?

The only thing I can think of is people that fall off the Taj Mahal, when stepping backwards to take their own selfie.

When I was 8 my dad came home from work one day, clutching a tape in one hand, given to him by a friend at work. It was a game called Manic Miner.

He handed it to me and I loaded it up, not really knowing what to expect, but already filling the gaps in with my imagination. It’s hard to explain why, but the whole thing was mesmerising to me, to such an extent that Matthew Smith from Wallasey (the guy who made the game when he was 16 or something) is one of my heroes.

When he made the game, he used to do it a night when everyone was asleep, because the kettle boiling in the house used to trip the power out. Matthew didn’t go on to become a millionaire living the high life, but none of that matters, because he will always be remembered for this (well, for as long Generation X is kicking around anyway).

I know games are seen as pointless or ‘immature’ to many adults, but I was a kid that grew up with not a lot and all of this was a big deal to me. At their best I believe they can be works of art and fit into a place somewhere between dreams and reality (I’m not including shit like GTA in that statement). More than that though, for me it was part of my childhood.

Here it is re-imagined with an orchestral soundtrack, “In The Hall Of The Mountain King”.

Every other bio: ‘I love spontaneous adventures.’
Translation: They once chose a different takeaway pizza topping.

These are the same people that say redundant things like:

“I love nights out, but also nights in.”

Isn’t that just describing… being alive? 🙂

Raise your hands in the air, ’cause today…

From city to city and coast to coast, Friday night is the night they like to party the most 🙂

Before mobile phones and messenger apps existed, it was ‘fairly’ normal for people to turn up at your door unannounced/on spec. These days, though, social etiquette dictates that this is frowned upon, and if you do it more than once you’re definitely a stalker.

Unfortunately, some people didn’t get the memo.

The people in this convo shall remain nameless, of course. What made me laugh was that this person, who used to live in the same area, drove miles out of their way to pick up anti-freeze from a shop, just as an excuse to call around… half-expecting to be invited in for a cup of coffee or something (which didn’t happen).

Said person was then miffed at not being cordially invited in and zoomed off in his 4X4, staring straight ahead (this is the bit I found funny). Men may have gone into battle for king and country, but they can also be fragile souls when it comes to ego…

Ha ha… still laughing at the looking straight ahead and zooming off part.

One of my favourite 90’s films is a comedy with Vince Vaughn, called ‘Swingers’

I never watched this film for YEARS because I thought it was actually about Swingers (you know, the filthy ones). I once watched a Louis Theroux programme about Swingers parties. It was the opposite of ‘sexy’ – to the extent that it left an indelible ‘viewer’ mark upon my person. I don’t know why people would meet up to shag ‘en masse’ on old mattresses with strangers, there’s nothing romantic or alluring about that.

At least put a few rose petals down first or something.

Side Note: My mate once enticed his (now wife) with chocolates from the bathroom to the bed before proposing to her. I asked him, “You didn’t put any coffee flavoured ones down did you, because some people don’t like coffee?” (he was very WTF about my curveball question but Revels roulette, where you try to avoid the coffee ones, is actually a thing).

I find the notion of Swingers (like the ones in Benidorm) quite amusing, but in real life I’d rather have fish and chips than go down that rabbit hole of depravity.

Anyway, I told one of my friends I’d never seen this film. To my surprise, he said it was his favourite comedy of all time.

So I watched it and he was right,  it was awesome. Not a mattress swinger in sight… THANK GOD!

Swingers – Always double down on number 11 and remember, “You’re so money, and you don’t even know it“.

I have a bit more time for no-talent ass-clown graffiti artists if they blend in humour with an appreciation for future visitors. The other day I noticed this one (much better than Hue with his black spray can)…

Hue’s best graffiti was “Walk It Off :-)”, which I presume was aimed at the Sunday pub lunch brigade. I was tempted to write “& Cry” after his name as well. “Hue & Cry” (he wouldn’t know who that was, would he?)

When you cross the mental bridge to Terabithia, nothing can defeat you…

Nigel Planer from The Young Ones was on the radio the other day, talking about the time he was injured by a giant twenty-foot chocolate éclair, and about when he once answered an ad for a room while dressed as Che Guevara. His book sounded quite interesting.

I’ve never been injured by any type of cake, but I did once fall down the stairs in Jimmy Spice’s, when I obscured my vision by looking at the change I had jingling around in my pocket (such a rookie mistake).

I also once enthusiastically waved goodbye to someone and fell over a wall. After that happened, I made my farewells decidedly more static.

Before Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift shagged up the pop charts and turned music into a 4 letter word, there was a time when music was tongue in cheek, and it was all the better for it.

What would you rather have? Ed Sheeran boring everyone to death about meeting up with mates he doesn’t give a shit about, on the castle on the hill, when he used to get pissed on Hooch and Lambrini sprawled over a car bonnet… or Positive K with “I Got A Man”

How long you had that problem. What’s your man got to do with me.

I’m not trying to hear that, see.

It was all a bit of fun wasn’t it.