I returned from the pub quiz somewhat worse for wear at about 1145. Meg, Mash, Duncan and I came in 4th with 27 points. This week was easy, in my view, which crowded the field somewhat.
On getting back into the flat I spoke to Ewan for about half an hour. We're both looking forward to Scotland next week enormously. At the end of our conversation I saw Ben doing something pretty fucking peculiar out of the corner of my eye. Ewan suggested that I recorded it for posterity, and he was right - very amusing stuff:
February 27, 2007
February 26, 2007
Those About To Rock
Back in January last year I took delivery of my bass guitar. I blogged about it here. I'd been playing guitar for a good 7 odd years before that, but never really got anywhere with it because I never really approached it in a structured way.
I was keen to start learning bass properly, but living out on a farm and working silly hours meant that this wasn't practical. When I moved to Winchester in June last year, I found a teacher and started having lessons more or less every week. I blogged about the start of that here.
You find other musicians through friends, ads in shops and the internet. I wanted to dip my toe in, so I created a profile on a site called musofinder. A couple of weeks ago I got a message from a band called the soho dolls who were after a new bassist. I checked out their myspace page. They all wore mascara and top hats. Not really my look.
However, last week I got a message from a chap called Ade.
So I wrote back. It turned out that the drummer they got wasn't terribly good. But they still needed a bassist, and yesterday - Saturday - I ended up round his house, jamming for the first time in my life. And it was just the most incredible thing. After spending years playing in a room by myself and getting nowhere it was an awesome release. It was like a first date in a lot of ways. I was hugely apprehensive beforehand. My heart was beating so fast. Almost indescribable. It's the best thing that's happened for me in a long time.
Ade is in the army at the moment, but is leaving in the summer. The other guitarist, Dan, has just dropped out of his course at Southampton and is working over in Romsey. Both of them have a great attitude towards the whole thing. They really want it to go somewhere, but not to the cost of everything else in their lives. No one has a big ego, there's no criticism etc., just support. We played 3 songs on Saturday - Day Tripper (which is a fucking bitch of a bassline to start off with!), one track they'd written themselves and a led zep song. I think I acquitted myself. Well, they've asked me back anyway. This week we're polishing those three and learning another led zep one and 'The Bends' (the song, not the album). The longer term plan is to recruit a drummer, start rehearsing in a 'proper' rehearsal room rather than Ade's house and then bring in a singer, then start gigging.
I really can't wait for us to meet up again. It was the most incredible feeling in the world. I have no idea how this particular setup will fare, but it feels so great to have done it. I can't wait to see where it goes.
I was keen to start learning bass properly, but living out on a farm and working silly hours meant that this wasn't practical. When I moved to Winchester in June last year, I found a teacher and started having lessons more or less every week. I blogged about the start of that here.
You find other musicians through friends, ads in shops and the internet. I wanted to dip my toe in, so I created a profile on a site called musofinder. A couple of weeks ago I got a message from a band called the soho dolls who were after a new bassist. I checked out their myspace page. They all wore mascara and top hats. Not really my look.
However, last week I got a message from a chap called Ade.
Hi Tom,
I am currently in the process of putting together a band in Southampton. At the moment, we have two guitars and as of yesterday a drummer. We are at a very early stage in the process and are just attempting to get the right people in place and integrate musically prior to generating a set list.
In terms of the musical direction; think Radiohead meets a kind of 'high octane' indie!
My personal musical background is more rock based - but I'm willing to make compromises!
I hope that this is something that you could be interested in. We are quite laid back and are just concentrating on getting the music right and to be honest the proposed set will be initailly very simple.
If you want to get in touch email me at blahblah or call me on blablah.
Look forward to hearing from you.
Ade
So I wrote back. It turned out that the drummer they got wasn't terribly good. But they still needed a bassist, and yesterday - Saturday - I ended up round his house, jamming for the first time in my life. And it was just the most incredible thing. After spending years playing in a room by myself and getting nowhere it was an awesome release. It was like a first date in a lot of ways. I was hugely apprehensive beforehand. My heart was beating so fast. Almost indescribable. It's the best thing that's happened for me in a long time.
Ade is in the army at the moment, but is leaving in the summer. The other guitarist, Dan, has just dropped out of his course at Southampton and is working over in Romsey. Both of them have a great attitude towards the whole thing. They really want it to go somewhere, but not to the cost of everything else in their lives. No one has a big ego, there's no criticism etc., just support. We played 3 songs on Saturday - Day Tripper (which is a fucking bitch of a bassline to start off with!), one track they'd written themselves and a led zep song. I think I acquitted myself. Well, they've asked me back anyway. This week we're polishing those three and learning another led zep one and 'The Bends' (the song, not the album). The longer term plan is to recruit a drummer, start rehearsing in a 'proper' rehearsal room rather than Ade's house and then bring in a singer, then start gigging.
I really can't wait for us to meet up again. It was the most incredible feeling in the world. I have no idea how this particular setup will fare, but it feels so great to have done it. I can't wait to see where it goes.
February 25, 2007
The $10m Wedding
Remember the heady days of 98/99? Venture capitalists everywhere went giddy for the internet and started lavishing unheard of sums of cash on bright eyed young things who were selling things called 'altered paradigms'. No one knew what an altered paradigm was worth, but $10m seemed like a fair enough price.
The market for venture funding is subject to fashions as much as any other. For a spell, online communities were the Next Big Thing. Someone somewhere sees an article in the FT or The Economist about how communities are an electronic goldmine. He calls his people and demands to know what they're doing about investing his cash in this exciting and self-evidently lucrative area. Cheques are duly written to bright young things.
One such bright young thing was/is our very own Ewan. His unrivaled experience with online communities made him that rare thing: someone who knew what he was talking about. Or, at least, someone who sounded like he knew what was talking about. What's the difference? None at all to someone who needs to be rapidly relieved of cash. I'd worked with Ewan on a number of websites aimed at bringing young people together. This followed on from his work in a similar area for AOL. At the time, we didn't have a business plan. Or any type of plan, to be exact. Chat rooms, bulletin boards, 'user generated content' as it's now known - we had no clue how any of this was going to make us money, but knew that it was fun to play around with the new technology and interesting to see people use the technology to meet and interact.
To attract investment, we needed something a bit different from what we'd done up to that point. The new community was to be a community for young professionals. An online private members club. The revenue stream was to be part advertising, part revenue share / tie-in. Ewan and I spent an exciting but brief period of time putting what was to be the first of many incarnations of the website together to show to the investors. I dimly remember a conference call where the name was decided. This was over christmas and I'd just got out of hospital after having my appendix removed. Didn't have time for appendixes. Needed to build a website.
Once we were up and running, in would come all the city boys and girls (CashRichTimePoor was the phrase - to be said without spaces) who needed some guidance from a trusted source on where to dump their ill gotten bonuses. We pointed them in the right direction and creamed off 5%. Advertisers bit their appendages off to reach our audience. We made lots of money and retired. That was the plan. However, small problem...
It turned out that the city boys and girls were happy in their actual private members clubs rather than in our online one. Instead, the chat rooms and bulletin boards were full of people who'd frequented the sites we'd set up before. They were almost without exception young, jobless and cashless. "TimeRichMoneyPoor" was a joke I tried to crack once. No one else in the team thought it was terribly funny. There was some concern. The people visiting and using the site were not in our target demographic. This undermined both main revenue streams. On the other hand, the raw numbers - visits, pages etc. were looking good. And dwell time was exceptional. At the time, the average visit to a website lasted 10 minutes. People were staying on ours for hours - to chat, to participate.
And what great people they generally were. The technology wasn't a barrier to them communicating and interacting at all, they totally embraced it. When we upgraded bulletin board software, new features were picked up and used instantly. Chatroom etiquette was much less of a headache than you'd have thought - there was a lot of self-regulation. There were some cliques, but most people were really welcoming. Many were keen to play an active part in things - creating content, moderating etc. It was absolutely fascinating to watch personal relationships develop and evolve. It was a great time, and a very welcome diversion from uni work and drinking and smoking. I even met a girlfriend through it, a girl called Jenny. What a fantastic job.
As interesting as it was, it wasn't paying the bills. Reality struck and I left to pursue a career in, well, anything that paid. The site went on for a good few years in various formats and guises, enjoying considerable success and recognition. At one point Ewan was richer than David Beckham. This is almost certainly not the case any more, but at least Ewan doesn't have to put up with Victoria.
So why bring all this up now? Well, Jenny got married yesterday and Ben just got back from the reception. Ben stayed in touch with her, which is something I'm not terribly good at doing. It seems a good number of her mates are people she got to know via the website, or people that she got to know via people from the website. Ben reports that a few of them raised a glass to Ewan, he and I for putting the thing up in the first place. And, well, that's given me a bit of a warm glow for the evening. Don't get me wrong: there's no sense that I'd claim credit for those relationships any more than a landlord would claim credit for a relationship that started in his pub. But it's nice to know that we contributed in some way, that all that work wasn't for nothing, and that the community that I enjoyed watching form is still active.
They say you can't put a price on friendship. $10m in 1999 prices is, however, probably a little steep :)
The market for venture funding is subject to fashions as much as any other. For a spell, online communities were the Next Big Thing. Someone somewhere sees an article in the FT or The Economist about how communities are an electronic goldmine. He calls his people and demands to know what they're doing about investing his cash in this exciting and self-evidently lucrative area. Cheques are duly written to bright young things.
One such bright young thing was/is our very own Ewan. His unrivaled experience with online communities made him that rare thing: someone who knew what he was talking about. Or, at least, someone who sounded like he knew what was talking about. What's the difference? None at all to someone who needs to be rapidly relieved of cash. I'd worked with Ewan on a number of websites aimed at bringing young people together. This followed on from his work in a similar area for AOL. At the time, we didn't have a business plan. Or any type of plan, to be exact. Chat rooms, bulletin boards, 'user generated content' as it's now known - we had no clue how any of this was going to make us money, but knew that it was fun to play around with the new technology and interesting to see people use the technology to meet and interact.
To attract investment, we needed something a bit different from what we'd done up to that point. The new community was to be a community for young professionals. An online private members club. The revenue stream was to be part advertising, part revenue share / tie-in. Ewan and I spent an exciting but brief period of time putting what was to be the first of many incarnations of the website together to show to the investors. I dimly remember a conference call where the name was decided. This was over christmas and I'd just got out of hospital after having my appendix removed. Didn't have time for appendixes. Needed to build a website.
Once we were up and running, in would come all the city boys and girls (CashRichTimePoor was the phrase - to be said without spaces) who needed some guidance from a trusted source on where to dump their ill gotten bonuses. We pointed them in the right direction and creamed off 5%. Advertisers bit their appendages off to reach our audience. We made lots of money and retired. That was the plan. However, small problem...
It turned out that the city boys and girls were happy in their actual private members clubs rather than in our online one. Instead, the chat rooms and bulletin boards were full of people who'd frequented the sites we'd set up before. They were almost without exception young, jobless and cashless. "TimeRichMoneyPoor" was a joke I tried to crack once. No one else in the team thought it was terribly funny. There was some concern. The people visiting and using the site were not in our target demographic. This undermined both main revenue streams. On the other hand, the raw numbers - visits, pages etc. were looking good. And dwell time was exceptional. At the time, the average visit to a website lasted 10 minutes. People were staying on ours for hours - to chat, to participate.
And what great people they generally were. The technology wasn't a barrier to them communicating and interacting at all, they totally embraced it. When we upgraded bulletin board software, new features were picked up and used instantly. Chatroom etiquette was much less of a headache than you'd have thought - there was a lot of self-regulation. There were some cliques, but most people were really welcoming. Many were keen to play an active part in things - creating content, moderating etc. It was absolutely fascinating to watch personal relationships develop and evolve. It was a great time, and a very welcome diversion from uni work and drinking and smoking. I even met a girlfriend through it, a girl called Jenny. What a fantastic job.
As interesting as it was, it wasn't paying the bills. Reality struck and I left to pursue a career in, well, anything that paid. The site went on for a good few years in various formats and guises, enjoying considerable success and recognition. At one point Ewan was richer than David Beckham. This is almost certainly not the case any more, but at least Ewan doesn't have to put up with Victoria.
So why bring all this up now? Well, Jenny got married yesterday and Ben just got back from the reception. Ben stayed in touch with her, which is something I'm not terribly good at doing. It seems a good number of her mates are people she got to know via the website, or people that she got to know via people from the website. Ben reports that a few of them raised a glass to Ewan, he and I for putting the thing up in the first place. And, well, that's given me a bit of a warm glow for the evening. Don't get me wrong: there's no sense that I'd claim credit for those relationships any more than a landlord would claim credit for a relationship that started in his pub. But it's nice to know that we contributed in some way, that all that work wasn't for nothing, and that the community that I enjoyed watching form is still active.
They say you can't put a price on friendship. $10m in 1999 prices is, however, probably a little steep :)
February 22, 2007
Hot Fuzz
Frequently laughoutloudfunny and will support a second viewing. Best film I've seen in a while.
In other news:
Headed up to bracknell for a meeting about pulling lots of data together. For some reason I expected everyone to have their shit sorted. Of course not. Cue lots of fucking about in SQL trying to find the table I need out of 584 others. Naming conventions? We've heard of them.
"There's a technical manual," someone said "But George had it last."
"Where's George?"
"Sick."
Plan was to head from there to go and see Gran. She's in hospital in Haslemere. Mum phoned me in the morning to forewarn me that the hospital was tiny and near on impossible to find. Tomtom would have been useful. Sadly, it was out of charge. Sadder still, it emerged that the cigar lighter charging plug had been worn down to the wire a couple of weeks ago when I got the wire stuck in the door and dragged it along the road. Drove home thinking 'fuck it' a lot. Then decided to rely on bare wit, printed out some maps from google and with some encouragement from astor, headed over to the hospital. Gran was in pretty fine form, considering. She had a very nasty fall at the weekend and is going through physio. This seems to be a case of mitigation rather than fixing the problem. They're trying to work out how to sort her home out to make it more workable. A stair lift is the preferred option, but the stairway is small. Gran brought my mum and my uncle up in that house. It was originally built by Dennis (makers of fine fire engines) for their workers, of which my grandfather was one. The most significant non-physical issue is Gran's confidence. I hope that will come back with time.
We had a good chat and catch up. Gran, being religious, recommended a book - "God Calling". And you know, I think I might even look it out. I've spent a little bit of time reading non-christian books over the last couple of years to support my claims of agnosticism. It might be interesting to see how much christian stuff I remember. Her faith is playing a significant role in helping her through. Today, the pastor's wife brought her some scotch pancakes because she missed out on pancake day yesterday. All the kids from Sunday school have made her cards. You can question the foundation of the whole thing, as I generally do, but it's remarkable to see what it means to people.
My faith of course is materialism. Hence I have ordered a PS3. Did I already mention that? Well, it's important. My most precious precious headphones got broken earlier in the week (I may have dropped them). Even though they're out of service, Bose are going to fix them. Doubtless it won't be cheap, but they've certainly got their shit together. Tomorrow a UPS returns box will arrive, I'll put the headphone inside and summon a man in a brown van. Then I'll get a call telling me how much the repair will cost and be asked if I want to proceed. Super.
Lots of driving. Tired. Bed.
In other news:
Headed up to bracknell for a meeting about pulling lots of data together. For some reason I expected everyone to have their shit sorted. Of course not. Cue lots of fucking about in SQL trying to find the table I need out of 584 others. Naming conventions? We've heard of them.
"There's a technical manual," someone said "But George had it last."
"Where's George?"
"Sick."
Plan was to head from there to go and see Gran. She's in hospital in Haslemere. Mum phoned me in the morning to forewarn me that the hospital was tiny and near on impossible to find. Tomtom would have been useful. Sadly, it was out of charge. Sadder still, it emerged that the cigar lighter charging plug had been worn down to the wire a couple of weeks ago when I got the wire stuck in the door and dragged it along the road. Drove home thinking 'fuck it' a lot. Then decided to rely on bare wit, printed out some maps from google and with some encouragement from astor, headed over to the hospital. Gran was in pretty fine form, considering. She had a very nasty fall at the weekend and is going through physio. This seems to be a case of mitigation rather than fixing the problem. They're trying to work out how to sort her home out to make it more workable. A stair lift is the preferred option, but the stairway is small. Gran brought my mum and my uncle up in that house. It was originally built by Dennis (makers of fine fire engines) for their workers, of which my grandfather was one. The most significant non-physical issue is Gran's confidence. I hope that will come back with time.
We had a good chat and catch up. Gran, being religious, recommended a book - "God Calling". And you know, I think I might even look it out. I've spent a little bit of time reading non-christian books over the last couple of years to support my claims of agnosticism. It might be interesting to see how much christian stuff I remember. Her faith is playing a significant role in helping her through. Today, the pastor's wife brought her some scotch pancakes because she missed out on pancake day yesterday. All the kids from Sunday school have made her cards. You can question the foundation of the whole thing, as I generally do, but it's remarkable to see what it means to people.
My faith of course is materialism. Hence I have ordered a PS3. Did I already mention that? Well, it's important. My most precious precious headphones got broken earlier in the week (I may have dropped them). Even though they're out of service, Bose are going to fix them. Doubtless it won't be cheap, but they've certainly got their shit together. Tomorrow a UPS returns box will arrive, I'll put the headphone inside and summon a man in a brown van. Then I'll get a call telling me how much the repair will cost and be asked if I want to proceed. Super.
Lots of driving. Tired. Bed.
February 19, 2007
On this occasion, we regret you have...
Went for a job interview with branson's new singing/dancing/uma employing meedja company on Friday. It was a second interview. The first one went very well. The one on Friday was awful. The chap interviewing me was a proper c*nt. He took a very adversarial posture (which I should have expected, it just seemed a bit, well, childish to me) and kept on telling me he didn't accept my answers or that I hadn't convinced him.
I guess I fell for it the first couple of times and tried to restate answers to make him understand where I was coming from. After the third time I just told him that the nature of interviews was that as much as one might want to demonstrate behaviours, you could only really talk and hope that the other person trusted what you said. That put an end to that, but he had obviously read the David Brent guide to interviewing people and had a number of other tricks up his sleave.
I swear, there was one point where I answered a question, he started saying that he agreed with me and then he just stopped talking and stared at me for a full 5 or 10 seconds like he was trying to psych me out or something. I mean, come on. Be an adult. What a bell end. I've interviewed literally hundreds of people in my job. I make it a policy to never play mind games with people. I don't think it's professional and does nothing to build rapport or trust with people you need to work with.
The thing he was most concerned about was that the job wasn't 'sexy' enough for me. And he was absolutely right. And I certainly wasn't going to try convincing him that I was feeling a massive urge to spend time with him emanating from my loins. I was convinced that I'd have been effective in the role, and there was lots about it that interested me. Despite the fact it represented a hefty pay drop and a 100% increase in days worked / year. I'm quite stimulated by the idea of returning to full time work, of owning something and seeing it right through, building relationships with people that last for more than a couple of months and knowing what my favourite number drink is from the coffee machine. You know. Like normal people. I told him all this, but I guess he just didn't buy it.
But really - I don't know anyone with a sexy job. If you have one, please correct me. A lot of people have interesting parts to their jobs. But the grass is always greener. The interesting stuff to bullshit ratio is normally something like 1 to 5. Admin. Emails. Politics. Showing Face. Compulsory Meetings with no value. Saluting the corporate flag. Juggling priorities. Escalations. Making sane voices heard. During my last proper job as a software developer the organisation insisted that everyone had to go on a course. Visions Values & Goals it was called. It was supposed to make sure everyone was 'pulling in the right direction'. Bag of spanners, I thought. They ran something like 8 sessions at great expense. The first 6 or so my boss got me out of because he couldn't face the idea of me not being around. I mean who the fuck puts a 23 year old in charge of a system that handles £150k worth of business a day and then fails to train anyone else to look after it? I swear, there was a two year spell there when if I'd been hit by a bus or if my frequent attempts to drink myself to death had succeeded then they'd have been totally turn-the-lights-off-and-go-home fucked. Anyway, I've digressed from my tangent. I was the only person who never went on the course because I was too busy doing something called 'work' rather than twatting around with flip charts in a hotel and telling some arse how I felt about working for them.
Back to virgin. So I got a call saying I hadn't got it from the agent, which was ok because on the drive home I'd thought over the whole thing and realised which way it was going to go. They said the reason I hadn't got it was because they thought I'd get bored with it quickly, which is possibly / probably true. This was upsetting for two reasons. 1) I had promised myself my first significant holiday in 2.5 years to somewhere hot if I got the job, because for once I wouldn't need to be near a phone in case it rang with a job offer. More significantly, 2) I was faced with the problem I had when I quit working full time over a year ago. What do I do now? When there's so much that's possible, what's the right thing to go for?
Those questions are of course rhetorical. Here's one that isn't: how do you go about deciding what you want to do? You may have gathered that sitting around on my arse for a few months playing bass, going down the pub and reading the paper in Costas has not contributed meaningfully to determining a strategy. Hopefully a much touted big project over in Croydon is going to come up and provide some financial kick to things. However, even if it does, it gets me no closer to working out where to divert my energy long term.
Don't get me wrong. Working this little and living like this is not bad, it just feels so temporary.
I guess I fell for it the first couple of times and tried to restate answers to make him understand where I was coming from. After the third time I just told him that the nature of interviews was that as much as one might want to demonstrate behaviours, you could only really talk and hope that the other person trusted what you said. That put an end to that, but he had obviously read the David Brent guide to interviewing people and had a number of other tricks up his sleave.
I swear, there was one point where I answered a question, he started saying that he agreed with me and then he just stopped talking and stared at me for a full 5 or 10 seconds like he was trying to psych me out or something. I mean, come on. Be an adult. What a bell end. I've interviewed literally hundreds of people in my job. I make it a policy to never play mind games with people. I don't think it's professional and does nothing to build rapport or trust with people you need to work with.
The thing he was most concerned about was that the job wasn't 'sexy' enough for me. And he was absolutely right. And I certainly wasn't going to try convincing him that I was feeling a massive urge to spend time with him emanating from my loins. I was convinced that I'd have been effective in the role, and there was lots about it that interested me. Despite the fact it represented a hefty pay drop and a 100% increase in days worked / year. I'm quite stimulated by the idea of returning to full time work, of owning something and seeing it right through, building relationships with people that last for more than a couple of months and knowing what my favourite number drink is from the coffee machine. You know. Like normal people. I told him all this, but I guess he just didn't buy it.
But really - I don't know anyone with a sexy job. If you have one, please correct me. A lot of people have interesting parts to their jobs. But the grass is always greener. The interesting stuff to bullshit ratio is normally something like 1 to 5. Admin. Emails. Politics. Showing Face. Compulsory Meetings with no value. Saluting the corporate flag. Juggling priorities. Escalations. Making sane voices heard. During my last proper job as a software developer the organisation insisted that everyone had to go on a course. Visions Values & Goals it was called. It was supposed to make sure everyone was 'pulling in the right direction'. Bag of spanners, I thought. They ran something like 8 sessions at great expense. The first 6 or so my boss got me out of because he couldn't face the idea of me not being around. I mean who the fuck puts a 23 year old in charge of a system that handles £150k worth of business a day and then fails to train anyone else to look after it? I swear, there was a two year spell there when if I'd been hit by a bus or if my frequent attempts to drink myself to death had succeeded then they'd have been totally turn-the-lights-off-and-go-home fucked. Anyway, I've digressed from my tangent. I was the only person who never went on the course because I was too busy doing something called 'work' rather than twatting around with flip charts in a hotel and telling some arse how I felt about working for them.
Back to virgin. So I got a call saying I hadn't got it from the agent, which was ok because on the drive home I'd thought over the whole thing and realised which way it was going to go. They said the reason I hadn't got it was because they thought I'd get bored with it quickly, which is possibly / probably true. This was upsetting for two reasons. 1) I had promised myself my first significant holiday in 2.5 years to somewhere hot if I got the job, because for once I wouldn't need to be near a phone in case it rang with a job offer. More significantly, 2) I was faced with the problem I had when I quit working full time over a year ago. What do I do now? When there's so much that's possible, what's the right thing to go for?
Those questions are of course rhetorical. Here's one that isn't: how do you go about deciding what you want to do? You may have gathered that sitting around on my arse for a few months playing bass, going down the pub and reading the paper in Costas has not contributed meaningfully to determining a strategy. Hopefully a much touted big project over in Croydon is going to come up and provide some financial kick to things. However, even if it does, it gets me no closer to working out where to divert my energy long term.
Don't get me wrong. Working this little and living like this is not bad, it just feels so temporary.
February 16, 2007
Take me to your dealer
Tonight, Covent Garden
Me: [Insightful and extremely witty comment after lots of alcohol]
Her: [Just as drunk] Ha Ha Ha. Got any coke?
Me: What?
Her: Coke?
Me: What?
Her: Drugs?
Me: What?
Her: Cocaine?
Me: No. What? No.
Her: Oh. Shit. Sorry. You just seemed like the sort of person who'd have some.
September 2004, Cambridge Circus
Me: [Erudite commentary after lots of alcohol]
Another Her: [Just as drunk] Ha Ha Ha. Got any coke?
Me: No
Her: Ha Ha Ha. Got any coke?
Me: Ha Ha Ha. No.
Her: Ha Ha Ha. Really?
Me: Yes.
Her: Got any coke?
Me: No.
[Pause]
Me: Wait! Come back!
Sometime in 1998, A Theatre I Worked In
Manager: No, really, are you on coke?
Me: No
Manager: Ha Ha Ha. No. Really?
Me: No, seriously, why?
Manager: It's just. I don't know. You're so fucking arrogant all the time.
Me: Don't be so fucking daft!
Manager: Seriously. Got any coke?
May 2006, Amsterdam Airport
Nick: Right! That's customs taken care of
Greg: Excellent. What's first?
Nick: Well, call me old fashioned, but we need to sort some drugs out.
Me: And a limo
Nick: You know, I'd really like to see you [me] on coke
Dan: That'd be fucking hilarious
Me: What?
Greg: Yeah
Me: What? Why?
Nick: Can you imagine?
Greg & Dan: [Laughter]
Me: What?
Nick, Greg & Dan: [More Laughter]
Me: What? Fuckers.
Me: [Insightful and extremely witty comment after lots of alcohol]
Her: [Just as drunk] Ha Ha Ha. Got any coke?
Me: What?
Her: Coke?
Me: What?
Her: Drugs?
Me: What?
Her: Cocaine?
Me: No. What? No.
Her: Oh. Shit. Sorry. You just seemed like the sort of person who'd have some.
September 2004, Cambridge Circus
Me: [Erudite commentary after lots of alcohol]
Another Her: [Just as drunk] Ha Ha Ha. Got any coke?
Me: No
Her: Ha Ha Ha. Got any coke?
Me: Ha Ha Ha. No.
Her: Ha Ha Ha. Really?
Me: Yes.
Her: Got any coke?
Me: No.
[Pause]
Me: Wait! Come back!
Sometime in 1998, A Theatre I Worked In
Manager: No, really, are you on coke?
Me: No
Manager: Ha Ha Ha. No. Really?
Me: No, seriously, why?
Manager: It's just. I don't know. You're so fucking arrogant all the time.
Me: Don't be so fucking daft!
Manager: Seriously. Got any coke?
May 2006, Amsterdam Airport
Nick: Right! That's customs taken care of
Greg: Excellent. What's first?
Nick: Well, call me old fashioned, but we need to sort some drugs out.
Me: And a limo
Nick: You know, I'd really like to see you [me] on coke
Dan: That'd be fucking hilarious
Me: What?
Greg: Yeah
Me: What? Why?
Nick: Can you imagine?
Greg & Dan: [Laughter]
Me: What?
Nick, Greg & Dan: [More Laughter]
Me: What? Fuckers.
February 13, 2007
What about the Women?
"What about the women?" Ewan asked. Thanks for getting straight to the point :)
The last few months have been relatively female free. I met up with my first ever girlfriend which was an interesting evening, but not romantically significant. I've been out a couple of times recently with a girl called Becky. We get on really well, but I don't think there's a spark / chemistry. Tricky stuff, innit?
I hate to say it, but it's really not a priority for me right now. There have definitely been times in my life when I've been single that I've felt a real gap in my life. It's just not something I'm bothered about at the moment. Who knows what the future will bring? I am looking forward to valentine's day enormously, however. Hot Fuzz is out.
The last few months have been relatively female free. I met up with my first ever girlfriend which was an interesting evening, but not romantically significant. I've been out a couple of times recently with a girl called Becky. We get on really well, but I don't think there's a spark / chemistry. Tricky stuff, innit?
I hate to say it, but it's really not a priority for me right now. There have definitely been times in my life when I've been single that I've felt a real gap in my life. It's just not something I'm bothered about at the moment. Who knows what the future will bring? I am looking forward to valentine's day enormously, however. Hot Fuzz is out.
January
January should be easier to recall since it's more recent. However, not much happened.
Spotting a theme yet?
I didn't drink the whole month. Apart from one slight lapse when the brewery released its first beer. I also had huge sleeping issues. From the start of the year, right up to now actually, I've been unable to get to sleep at a normal time. Most nights I get to sleep around 2am and wake up around 10. Sometimes it's 4am / 12pm. There's no pattern. I've cut caffeine out to no avail. Fiddled with the diet. Tried lots of exercise. Tried lots of mental activity. Tried not a lot of exercise (this came relatively easy). Tried all sorts. I reckon it's because I don't have anything to wake up for and don't have anything to do with my brain all day. Which suits me fine.
Astor and I continued our almost daily Rise Of Nations games. I won more than I lost, but it depends on the handicap level. From 0 to 2, I generally win. 3 is dodgy. 4+, she wins.
In the game, you have to conquer the other player's cities until you take over their capital. This requires a lot of tactical and strategic thinking - attacking from air, land and sea from different directions. Missiles, tanks, soldiers, planes, helicopters etc. This seems to be too much for her tiny female mind sometimes, and so she doesn't bother with all that. Astor has perfected a strategy that I call a 'reacharound'. Instead of all that tedious thinking business, she bombs my capital with 200 planes and then sends all her men running past all mine (so 90% of them are massacred) and then wins a hollow victory. Rubbish behaviour! I believe we even played one game against Ewan, but he was even worse. Despite a generous handicap, Macleod lagged seriously behind us in terms of technological progress. My tanks vs. his spear throwers from bongo bongo land. Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eyes lads etc.
What else? Well. Let's be honest. Not much. A typical day consists of this:
Wake up around 10
Put the Chris Moyles show on via bbc website (see, I've even time shifted breakfast radio to accommodate my bizarre sleeping patterns)
Catch up with emails
Go to Costa, read paper
Have lunch
Play astor
Play bass for an hour or two
Have dinner
Go to pub or watch a DVD
Go to sleep
Did I mention we're doing cricket practice at the Rose Bowl now? That's Hampshire's stadium. They have excellent nets. Sadly, I'm still the least effective member of the team - which is really saying something. Quite an achievement. Sometime in January a ball hit my foot (rather than the big wooden bat thing you're supposed to hit them with). That buggered things up nicely for a week. After training it got worse and worse until I couldn't walk on it. A 2am adventure to A&E followed. Fortunately, nothing was broken. Limped about for a couple of days. Christ I'm crap at that game.
During January I developed an obsession with the band Elbow. Leaders of The Free World was rarely out of the CD player in the car. They're magnificent, it's stunning stuff. I really can't wait for the new album, which rumour has it they're currently recording. Radiohead too, in fact. So 2007 should be a great year for music. There was lots of good food in January too. Mash roasted a duck, Debbie made a brilliant shepherds pie and I did lots of fiddling with english stuff. Toad in the Hole. Proper nice. There was an ice rink in the cathedral close over christmas - always seemed to be rammed with people when I was walking past so I didn't bother. Benny went with his work and came back with a very wet arse.
I lost Poker. Al won. Bastard.
Spotting a theme yet?
I didn't drink the whole month. Apart from one slight lapse when the brewery released its first beer. I also had huge sleeping issues. From the start of the year, right up to now actually, I've been unable to get to sleep at a normal time. Most nights I get to sleep around 2am and wake up around 10. Sometimes it's 4am / 12pm. There's no pattern. I've cut caffeine out to no avail. Fiddled with the diet. Tried lots of exercise. Tried lots of mental activity. Tried not a lot of exercise (this came relatively easy). Tried all sorts. I reckon it's because I don't have anything to wake up for and don't have anything to do with my brain all day. Which suits me fine.
Astor and I continued our almost daily Rise Of Nations games. I won more than I lost, but it depends on the handicap level. From 0 to 2, I generally win. 3 is dodgy. 4+, she wins.
In the game, you have to conquer the other player's cities until you take over their capital. This requires a lot of tactical and strategic thinking - attacking from air, land and sea from different directions. Missiles, tanks, soldiers, planes, helicopters etc. This seems to be too much for her tiny female mind sometimes, and so she doesn't bother with all that. Astor has perfected a strategy that I call a 'reacharound'. Instead of all that tedious thinking business, she bombs my capital with 200 planes and then sends all her men running past all mine (so 90% of them are massacred) and then wins a hollow victory. Rubbish behaviour! I believe we even played one game against Ewan, but he was even worse. Despite a generous handicap, Macleod lagged seriously behind us in terms of technological progress. My tanks vs. his spear throwers from bongo bongo land. Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eyes lads etc.
What else? Well. Let's be honest. Not much. A typical day consists of this:
Wake up around 10
Put the Chris Moyles show on via bbc website (see, I've even time shifted breakfast radio to accommodate my bizarre sleeping patterns)
Catch up with emails
Go to Costa, read paper
Have lunch
Play astor
Play bass for an hour or two
Have dinner
Go to pub or watch a DVD
Go to sleep
Did I mention we're doing cricket practice at the Rose Bowl now? That's Hampshire's stadium. They have excellent nets. Sadly, I'm still the least effective member of the team - which is really saying something. Quite an achievement. Sometime in January a ball hit my foot (rather than the big wooden bat thing you're supposed to hit them with). That buggered things up nicely for a week. After training it got worse and worse until I couldn't walk on it. A 2am adventure to A&E followed. Fortunately, nothing was broken. Limped about for a couple of days. Christ I'm crap at that game.
During January I developed an obsession with the band Elbow. Leaders of The Free World was rarely out of the CD player in the car. They're magnificent, it's stunning stuff. I really can't wait for the new album, which rumour has it they're currently recording. Radiohead too, in fact. So 2007 should be a great year for music. There was lots of good food in January too. Mash roasted a duck, Debbie made a brilliant shepherds pie and I did lots of fiddling with english stuff. Toad in the Hole. Proper nice. There was an ice rink in the cathedral close over christmas - always seemed to be rammed with people when I was walking past so I didn't bother. Benny went with his work and came back with a very wet arse.
I lost Poker. Al won. Bastard.
February 12, 2007
December
If November was a flurry of inaction tainted slightly by 10 or so days of work, then december was a riot of idleness. December was seriously slow. I spent the first two weeks doing very little indeed. There were two days of work (I almost fainted with the stress) in there and the usual badminton / bass / coffee + papers stuff. We met up in London on the 1st for a contractor's drink near trafalgar square. I helped a friend work through a spliff underneath nelson. That was the first time I've smoked tobacco in three years. It was very nice.
Ewan and I went to see Rick Mayall in a new statesman orientated show later in the month which was excellent. The meal afterwards was more enjoyable than the show - it's always nice to catch up. The gossip during the meal was better than the food. I bluetoothed him a movie of a woman having an apple inserted up her bottom which, I think, had been sent to me in a traffic jam. Ewan subsequently, inadvertently, showed it to some colleagues. Richly amusing stuff.
Step brother Tom passed his driving test, which is excellent news. I lost another of our montly poker games. Tom, Joe, Mum, Fred, Ben and I went to Charles House for a pre-christmas christmas dinner which was very nice. Crispy duck over limp turkey any day, I reckon. The proper christmas dinner was an awesome affair. Ben cooked and did very well. Roast beef and all the trimmings. Lovely. No good presents though. Christmas presents are getting worse and owrse I reckon. I got benny an ipod shuffle, mum a big box of bathroom stuff and fred a room at the hilton on park lane for the tour de france in july. I know it's supposed to be about giving and not receiving, and it's genuinely enjoyable being thoughtful about this kind of stuff. I'm difficult to buy for, apparently. Christmas used to be so exciting - the presents, the food, the tv, the booze. Now it's not such a big deal. It's almost an anticlimax. Gran came down for dinner, which was nice.
After Christmas we had a genuine treat. Dad flew down for a few days - the first time we've seen him down here in five years. It's not always easy talking to him. He often wants to talk a lot rather than listen. But it was lovely spending that time with him. It meant a lot to me.
New Year's was the (now) annual fancy dress thing down the pub. Everyone had to go as a beer. I went as a trappist monk. Loopy turned up as a monk as well. Ben found a beer called Crippledick, so he went as that. His was a very literal costume. Not pleasant to look at. He had bandages and ketchup for blood and everything. Deeply disturbing.
Sometime in December I think Rob won control of his company, which put an end to a very long period of uncertainty. The struggle to make it lucrative remains, obviously. But it was a positive step and gave everyone a lot of cheer.
Ewan and I went to see Rick Mayall in a new statesman orientated show later in the month which was excellent. The meal afterwards was more enjoyable than the show - it's always nice to catch up. The gossip during the meal was better than the food. I bluetoothed him a movie of a woman having an apple inserted up her bottom which, I think, had been sent to me in a traffic jam. Ewan subsequently, inadvertently, showed it to some colleagues. Richly amusing stuff.
Step brother Tom passed his driving test, which is excellent news. I lost another of our montly poker games. Tom, Joe, Mum, Fred, Ben and I went to Charles House for a pre-christmas christmas dinner which was very nice. Crispy duck over limp turkey any day, I reckon. The proper christmas dinner was an awesome affair. Ben cooked and did very well. Roast beef and all the trimmings. Lovely. No good presents though. Christmas presents are getting worse and owrse I reckon. I got benny an ipod shuffle, mum a big box of bathroom stuff and fred a room at the hilton on park lane for the tour de france in july. I know it's supposed to be about giving and not receiving, and it's genuinely enjoyable being thoughtful about this kind of stuff. I'm difficult to buy for, apparently. Christmas used to be so exciting - the presents, the food, the tv, the booze. Now it's not such a big deal. It's almost an anticlimax. Gran came down for dinner, which was nice.
After Christmas we had a genuine treat. Dad flew down for a few days - the first time we've seen him down here in five years. It's not always easy talking to him. He often wants to talk a lot rather than listen. But it was lovely spending that time with him. It meant a lot to me.
New Year's was the (now) annual fancy dress thing down the pub. Everyone had to go as a beer. I went as a trappist monk. Loopy turned up as a monk as well. Ben found a beer called Crippledick, so he went as that. His was a very literal costume. Not pleasant to look at. He had bandages and ketchup for blood and everything. Deeply disturbing.
Sometime in December I think Rob won control of his company, which put an end to a very long period of uncertainty. The struggle to make it lucrative remains, obviously. But it was a positive step and gave everyone a lot of cheer.
November
November's a long time ago now. What was I up to? Let's have a look at the calendar.
Okay. I was working up in Liverpool for a while. That was quite good fun, though the commute was terrible. It takes 3 hours 40 minutes to drive there. On average, the journey took a lot longer. Stop start. Hours trying to find local traffic bulletins and cunning routes. Etc. In one especially amusing incident, I wound down my window to pay the M6 Toll and then it wouldn't close again. By the time I managed to get it shut I was closing in on Oxford - soaked on the right side of my shirt from the rain and deaf in one ear from the roar of air rushing past my car. Looking back on it I guess I should have stopped, but such is a the deranged brain of the feral commuter. I also managed to get a permit to park outside my house. That was awesome news.
What made Liverpool more bearable was having a new laptop and taking my bass up there in the back of the car. Hotel living's never been so good. The work itself was pretty good as well. We did some interesting stuff in terms of data gathering. Otherwise it was same old same old.
For fireworks night Meg, Mash, Benny, Laura and I went up St Catherine's Hill and watched the displays from all over winchester. It was awesome up there - the city's beautiful at night any time of year - but the fireworks were a bit crap because they were so far away. Half the fun of fireworks is feeling the explosion, which is tricky when you're miles away. I had lots of brandy in a flask, so I was happy.
The project was over by November 11th. After that, it's all very bitty. Weekly bass lessons, Daily Bass practice, weekly games of badminton against step brother Tom, reading the papers down Costa with a decaf cappuccino. Occasional expeditions to the gym.
The brewery I blogged about in October, well, I spent more time there helping out with stuff. I spent a lot of time working with kazoo rob on their website as well. Some people who may still be reading this helped out with that, comments and things, so might we worth a look now it's up and running. More about that in December.
Laptop Hell: I couldn't wait for apple to send me a new one. So I bought one at the apple store in birmingham on the way to liverpool. I didn't cancel the online order in time and ended up with two laptops. I sent one back. Then I put my old one on ebay. When the guy I sold it to got it, he found out one of the memory bays was bust. Lots of arsing around. It's never fecking simple.
I can't be sure, but I think there was lots of good eating in November. We've got into that quite a bit lately.
Lots and lots went on, but let's not try and dress it up. In November, not very much happened that wasn't connected with lazing around. And that was very nice indeed.
Okay. I was working up in Liverpool for a while. That was quite good fun, though the commute was terrible. It takes 3 hours 40 minutes to drive there. On average, the journey took a lot longer. Stop start. Hours trying to find local traffic bulletins and cunning routes. Etc. In one especially amusing incident, I wound down my window to pay the M6 Toll and then it wouldn't close again. By the time I managed to get it shut I was closing in on Oxford - soaked on the right side of my shirt from the rain and deaf in one ear from the roar of air rushing past my car. Looking back on it I guess I should have stopped, but such is a the deranged brain of the feral commuter. I also managed to get a permit to park outside my house. That was awesome news.
What made Liverpool more bearable was having a new laptop and taking my bass up there in the back of the car. Hotel living's never been so good. The work itself was pretty good as well. We did some interesting stuff in terms of data gathering. Otherwise it was same old same old.
For fireworks night Meg, Mash, Benny, Laura and I went up St Catherine's Hill and watched the displays from all over winchester. It was awesome up there - the city's beautiful at night any time of year - but the fireworks were a bit crap because they were so far away. Half the fun of fireworks is feeling the explosion, which is tricky when you're miles away. I had lots of brandy in a flask, so I was happy.
The project was over by November 11th. After that, it's all very bitty. Weekly bass lessons, Daily Bass practice, weekly games of badminton against step brother Tom, reading the papers down Costa with a decaf cappuccino. Occasional expeditions to the gym.
The brewery I blogged about in October, well, I spent more time there helping out with stuff. I spent a lot of time working with kazoo rob on their website as well. Some people who may still be reading this helped out with that, comments and things, so might we worth a look now it's up and running. More about that in December.
Laptop Hell: I couldn't wait for apple to send me a new one. So I bought one at the apple store in birmingham on the way to liverpool. I didn't cancel the online order in time and ended up with two laptops. I sent one back. Then I put my old one on ebay. When the guy I sold it to got it, he found out one of the memory bays was bust. Lots of arsing around. It's never fecking simple.
I can't be sure, but I think there was lots of good eating in November. We've got into that quite a bit lately.
Lots and lots went on, but let's not try and dress it up. In November, not very much happened that wasn't connected with lazing around. And that was very nice indeed.
Three Months in the Wilderness
It turns out that if you don't blog for three months, life pretty much goes on.
It turns out that if you don't work for three months, life actually improves.
So here we go. A restart. False dawn or regathering of energies? Who knows.
It turns out that if you don't work for three months, life actually improves.
So here we go. A restart. False dawn or regathering of energies? Who knows.
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