Writer's Block

It's 4am and I can't sodding sleep. Not six hours ago I was complaining about being tired and I still can't sleep. Anyway, time for an announcement of sorts. If they'll have me and logistics permitting, I will be performing a stand-up show in Edinburgh and London in August 2016 entitled "The Wilderness Years". This is a concept I've had floating around my head for the past three years at least, but I've continued to put it off. No longer. The time feels right, mainly because I now have a source of income that will allow me to take the inevitable financial hit that this venture ensures without completely ruining me. And the show will probably be about failure, unemployment and Winston Churchill. I'd rather not still be banging on about those subjects into my thirties.  My stage persona is largely that of a low status loser with everything conspiring against him. I would like to put that version of my act to bed with this show. It's difficult...

Oh my God. I am so tired. More tired than I should be after eight hour shifts on consecutive days. I'm an insult to Chilean miners and Sports Direct warehouse employees* everywhere. I'd spent something like 12 of those hours with someone from another shop, who I imagine is probably sick of the sight of me and my inability to do complicated stuff that needs to be done because I'm new. Anyway, I've pretty much crashed out now and there is too much tension in my neck. Anyway, everyone else seems to have decided that Donald Trump is a terrible man now. Rather than several years ago, as they should have done. I'm getting pretty sick of social media now and resent having to have various accounts to keep up with people in the world. Perhaps I can just get rid of Twitter, that might be a start. Thank goodness I have a day off tomorrow. I will be going to Kingston and the delightful sweatbox that is The Fighting Cocks to watch Kris Roe play solo. He was the singer in a ban...

Bridge Of Spies concerns James Donovan (Tom Hanks), an insurance lawyer tasked with defending Rudolph Abel (Mark Rylance), who is accused of being a Russian spy in 1957. Donovan is keen to ensure a fair trial for his client. Despite being found guilty, Donovan successfully convinces the judge to hand down a prison term instead of a death sentence. When Gary Powers is shot down in a U2 plane on a suvelliance mission over the Soviet Union, Donovan is charged with negotiating an exchange (without government assistance) between the two nations in Berlin. Predictably, matters become a little complicated, not least due to the construction of the Berlin Wall. Marc Maron interviewed James Corden recently for his WTF podcast. In it, Corden said he felt there were two types of actors. Actors who are aliens capable of shapeshifting into a role and actors who represent the common man on screen. Tom Hanks certainly falls into the second category and I've greatly enjoyed his work over the year...

"Day off* and Manchester United getting knocked out of the Champions League tomorrow. Woo, hooray". Nailed it. I've been through this so many times before as a football fan. It seemingly doesn't make it any easier though, as I launched a plethora of expletives at the TV during the 3-2 defeat to Wolfsburg. To lose away from home to a painfully average PSV team was unacceptable. To fail to win at home to a painfully average PSV team even more so. Four points instead of one would have made losing to a good Wolfsburg team somewhat more palatable. Instead, it's a result that knocks United out of the competition and a series of events that leads an allegedly world class manager to put on two youth players in a must win match. I know the five people who read this blog don't give a shit about this. But it's currently the only thing on my mind. The short of it is this. Hundreds of millions of pounds have been spent on a team who play insipid football and are...

The FA Cup proved to be an early theme of this blog so it seems only right to return to it now as the Third Round draw for this year's competition was made this evening. I watched it at work. Apparently it's frowned upon to shout "Fuck off, fuck off" and bang your desk as your team get the second worst possible draw from 126 separate combinations*. I made so much commotion that one of the youths in the shop asked if I was a Sunderland fan. Indeed I was, lamenting their away tie to Arsenal where they lost two days previously. Manchester United have a more favourable draw at home to Sheffield United but it's difficult to feel optimistic about any of their fixtures at the minute. My boss is a Yeovil fan and his team were drawn away to Carlisle, a 328 mile journey to an area currently badly affected by flooding. The Carlisle team announced yesterday that they were willing to offer assistance to anyone in the local area who requires it. Kudos to them for acknowledgin...

Another day of taking bets and taking names. Mostly taking bets, if I'm being honest. In the spirit of the blog and the 250 word minimum I have imposed, I intend to revisit all of my previous blogs to ensure they are of the requisite length before 1st January 2016. Will I succeed? Probably not. Will I have to insert information that I have now but didn't have at the time the blogs were originally posted, giving them an anachronistic feel? Who knows. Arc Prints are doing some nice stand-up comedy related screenprints to raise money for Shelter. I purchased a Sara Pascoe one earlier in the week and it looks rather fetching on my wall. The quote "If Adam and Eve can't make it work in Paradise, what chance have I got in Lewisham?" is one of my favourite bits from her stand-up and also partially encapsulates my disdain for Lewisham*. There are a number of others available from the above link including Mark Watson (his is rather negative, even for my tastes), Alex Ho...

"Crawl" is the last track from "From Here To Infirmary", the record that pretty much acts as the bridge between the raw punk rock sound of Alkaline Trio's early stuff and the gothic pop influenced stuff that was to follow. It's a dark, broody track to close a largely bleak album, featuring amongst others the largely self explanatory "Bloodied Up" and "You're Dead". It follows a trend of a lot of my favourite songs in that it's miserable but in an eloquent way. The chorus for example: "Never ran away for the sake of scars, tried not to move, but she was armed and shots were fired. Now there's a hole in the head of this wounded liar. Never had a drink that I didn't like, got a taste of you, threw up all night. I got more sick, with every sour second rate kiss. Everything I never would miss again" It's a superb, evocative description of a destructive relationship, as the protagonist constantly finds himsel...