How to avoid a hangover.

The easiest way to avoid a hangover is not to sober up.

This tactic has worked very effectively for me the last few days. Since Sara arrived I have had a drink in my hand at all possible times. Fuck sobriety. It's over-rated. Just ask Oliver Reed. No, wait, you can't, he's dead.

I know I will have to sober up somewhat before I go back to work on Sunday but that's three days away. So, Pass a glass and the Vodka. The boy is on a mission.

Drink may be the legal way to get Mr McMelted but I spent the best part of my 20's drinking so I stopped for a while and took to swallowing Acid, Speed, Extasy, Hash and other chemicals as a way to get off my tits. Whether or not this has addled my brain is another thing. People who know me would probably say so but what do they know? I'm immortal.

The Rum Diary.

I've been at the club the last few hours with Sara. The Rum and Coke flowed freely and old friendships were renewed.

I first met Sara about four years ago when she began work at the club. From then on I was smitten. She is one of those people that you can't not love as though she was close family.

Sara is currently asleep, after claiming that she is very drunk, and I'm sitting watching Richard Pryor live in concert with a Vodka and fresh orange juice. I'm nowhere near drunk. Damn shame. But gimme a couple of hours...

When the weblog hits the fan.

Blogger is doing my fucking head in.

If I see one more error warning stating "Document contains no data" I'll swing for something. Possibly my monitor. If I am driven to this point I will sue the balls off of blogger to recoup my losses. Or just send them some real viscious E-mails.

Off to the pub.

My friend Sara arrived this afternoon and we are about to go get smash-arse drunk. Send in the dancing girlies. It's drinky time.

If you need me I'll be at the bar.

Wish upon a star.

I stare out my window into the night sky and search the heavens for Orions Belt.

I thank the spirits of the stars for allowing me to see them shine for another day.

I think of a life that could have been but wasn't. I smile to the stars and open my heart and show the face my child never saw. Peace be upon you, Via con dios my little one.

I think of the effects upon my former love. It kills my heart in stages. It begins with a gentle pang of wonder and escalates to an avalanche of emotion.

I think these things and I smile to the faces I do not see, Can not touch, Can not love. Yet I still smile.



In Memory of love lost and love never known. K & K.

Coming soon to a place near me.

Here we come, Walking down the street.
We get the funniest looks from, Everyone we meet...
Hey hey, We're the... What are we supposed to be?

My friend Sara (Front) Arrives from Sweden today. It's going to be great seeing her again and spending some time with her. No doubt I'll be relentlessly picked on by her for not having left my shit-hole job but if it were not for that very same shit-hole job we would never have met. I'll probably get my ear chewed for posting this pic on the net as well. Selah.

Around the world in a day.

All is good on the Good Ship Ross' blog.

According to my statcounter I am beginning to get returning visitors. Quite what I write that you find so interesting is beyond me but I'm not about to question your wisdom. You gotta be smart to keep coming back. Thanks for that. It's appreciated.

This morning was spent paying a visit to the wonderful world of IKEA with my Mother in full on shop mode. I have no idea how she manages to have so many opinions on furniture and fittings. Perhaps it's a woman thing. Should she ever feel like a change of career she'd do a good turn of trade in the interior design business.

Until this morning I didn't know chairs, stools and office furniture had personalities. In my mothers opinion they do. A very nice stool I spotted for at my computer desk was dismissed in the blink of an eye as having "No character."
"Fuck me" I thought, "I want to sit on it, not spend the evening quaffing sherry and discussing politics with it." But so it goes.

After about two hours of bank holiday hell I finally snapped and pleaded to go home like a little girl out on a school trip who can feel warm piss running down her legs. It was pityful; But it worked and I got to go home and have a cup of tea, a cigarette and a lie on the couch while my mother reminded me to change the sheets for Sara arriving tommorow.

The rest of the day has been spent idling about in the house watching Richard Pryor, Bill Hicks, Twelve Monkeys and the final episode of Roots while practising my Diablo technique.

All in all a rather enjoyable day.

Moto GP update.

The final winter test session for Moto GP came to a close yesterday at the Circuito de Jerez in the south of Spain.

Lap Times for the top 10 were as follows.

1. Nicky Hayden (Honda) 1'39.983
2. Marco Melandri (Honda) 1'40.291
3. John Hopkins (Suzuki) 1'40.418
4. VALENTINO ROSSI (GAULOISES YAMAHA TEAM) 1'40.539
5. Loris Capirossi (Ducati) 1'40.559
6. Alex Barros (Honda) 1'40.569
7. Sete Gibernau (Honda) 1'40.662
8. COLIN EDWARDS (GAULOISES YAMAHA TEAM) 1'41.284
9. Makoto Tamada (Honda) 1'41.380
10. Max Biaggi (Honda) 1'41.431

Listen Tonight.

The Last Great Wilderness demo "American Pornography" is aired tonight on BBC Radio Scotland.

Top of the pops.

I've been meaning for a while now to do a list of the things I enjoy. Today I'll do my favorite Movies.

Movies.

• Monty Python. Life Of Brian.
• Catch 22.
• Twelve Monkeys.
• Back To The Future trilogy.
• Pink Floyd. The Wall.
• 2001. A Space odyssey.
• The Matrix.
• Happy Gilmore.
• Doctor Strangelove.
• The Lawnmower Man.
• Blade Runner.
• Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
• One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.
• It's A Wonderful Life.
• Leon.
• American History X.
• Young Frankenstein.
• The Hustler.
• Colour of Money.
• Being John Malkovich.
• Caddyshack.

This list could go on forever but I'll leave it at that. For now. No doubt I'll add to it.

Celebrate!

I'm on holiday. Whoo hoo. A whole week of doing whatever I feel like doing.

It's marvelous.

Right now I'm going to roll a joint. Pardon me for a couple of minutes will you.

That's better. Now where was I? Oh yeah, I'm on holiday! But, you know this already, so why am I telling you again? Just to rub it in. That's why. Ho ho. He he, It is to laugh.

tomorrow is Easter Sunday for almost everyone I know and while they are all traipsing up and down hills to roll hard boiled eggs I'll be in my bed all day watching the entire series of Roots on DVD. Fuck all that wandering about in the hills nonsense. I'll leave all that guff to the monkeys. Enjoy the walk moron. Remember, Deep Breath, Wheeze, Deep Breath, Wheeze, Wheeze, Short breath, Wheeze, Clutch Chest, Grimace, Heart attack & Die is the correct order.

If you're gonna do it, do it right. If not, why even bother?

Carpe Diem. And a Happy Easter to you if you are so inclined.

Pondering.

I am mind. In a physical body. This physical body is geographically located on a planet that is spinning in space. This planet is revolving at 1040 mph. The Earth revolves around the Sun at a speed of about 18.5 miles/sec. Our galaxy is spinning at 155 miles/sec. Yet I feel like I'm standing still.

Ohm.
Deep breath.

"All matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, We are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is but a dream & we are the imagination of ourselves." [Bill Hicks.]

I am mind. Ohm. I am mind. Ohm. Ohm. I am. Oh my I am Ohm. Oh my I am, Oh my God It's full of stars. OHM.

The countdown begins.

I'm officially on holiday in 11 hours and 50 minutes. ohh joy of joys.

At the end of my shift tonight at the club I'm going to be free for the whole week. Emancipation! Bring on the dark rum & dancing girls. All will be good. Tommorow will be spent laying in my bed watching DVD's. No doubt about it. The only thing missing will be someone to keep me warm.

But... This is not a bad thing. Watching movies with me can be something of a nightmare. If anyone was to want to lie in bed with me watching movies they would be reaching for a pillow to smother me within about 3 minutes.

Fighting off tiredness...

I sit.

Searching desperately for the answer to the one true question. "Why am I here?" Fucked if I know... Any clues? Go on. Just a small one. Be a friend. No? Fine then. I'll find out what the secret is on my own. And don't go thinking I'll let you in on the secret Bubba. You're on your own. As we all are.

I've been sitting here in front of my PC for about 3 hours drinking Stolichnaya Vodka with banana and orange juice, Smoking soft black hash and surfing the net. In that three hour space of time I have followed no specific criterion for logic at all and I have come to the following conclusions...

• JFK's assasination was ordered by a parakeet named Joey.
• Jesus died so the annual profits of Nestle increases at the same rate of the Bolivian National debt.
• A Lesbian is for life. Not just Christmas.
• The Welsh should be blamed for Hitlers rise into power. They never take any responsibility for anything.
• I am not a member of the illuminate.
  
• Porky Pig did the voice of Mel Blanc.
  
• Fanny Farts are funny in certain situations.
  
• I've had too much to drink.

Not a very productive night so far. I'm sure you'd agree.

♫ It's always better on holiday, So much better on holiday... ♫

Dig out "Love shack" by the B52's boyo, 'Cos the Dude is on holiday soon.

Ahhhh, The joy of knowing that in less than two days I will be on holiday for a week. It's a great feeling. I'm sure you know what it feels like. You, no doubt, have had this satisfying succour in your life. If not; You really should consider taking a break. You look like you need one.

At 1am on Sunday morning I will be officially on an unpaid break from my job at the club. Sweet. The only bad thing about it is that it's an unpaid holiday. Because of my request to have four weeks in May to go to Africa I'm over-running on my holiday allowance. But so it goes. I'd rather be unpaid for a week, and spend some time with Sara while she's here, than working.

Because of Sara's arrival on Tuesday it's going to be a busy week for me. Sunday and Monday are all mine though. I fully plan on spending Sunday in my bed watching DVD's and Monday will no doubt pass in the blink of an eye with the jubilance of seeing Sara the next day. Just like Christmas was when I was too young to know better about the whole organized religion thing being nothing more than a yoke upon the shoulders of the stupid.

Tuesday is all set to be a day of drinking heavily in the club with Sara and the regulars. What is a guy to do? Get stuck in like there is no tomorrow. Purely because there is no tomorrow. Only this moment, which is now passed and will only exist as a stored meme in the Universal Mind.

Ohm.
Deep breath.

Ohm.
Deep breath.

Ohm.

Cue delightful realization...

Dance Katie Bairdie.

The mystery deepens.

After receiving the strange E-Mails #1 #2 #3 from "Katie Bairdie" I'm still of the mind that this is a very elaborate ruse to play a trick on me.

I've spoken to "Katie" on my messenger a couple of times since our last mail to each other. And as much as I'd like to say the game is up and I now know who "Katie" is I cannot. 'cos I still don't know for certain if this is a real person or a stig sent to dupe me.

I have been trying all day to figure out just why someone from the net would be so damn keen to talk to me. Still can't. I'm feeling a little like Alice In Wonderland. I'm tumbling down the rabbit hole with no idea what awaits me at the bottom...

One thing that got me wondering was "How far would you go to wind up a friend on the net?" So in the spirit of Inspector Clouseau I asked my mate Andy Dougall the same question.
"Dougall, how far would you go to wind up a friend on the net?" I said.
"As far as I needed." He replied, confirming that it was not only I that thought that way.
"Would you spend a couple of days at it? If it was necessary?" I Asked.
"Fuck aye. If I really wanted to get someone I'd spend a couple of weeks on it mate."

I explained to Andy the situation and he also thought that I was being had.

This really has me wondering. I know it's sad that I've been fixating on this problem like it was the Worlds oil reserves and I'm the American Government but I really do have a lot of time on my hands and need to fill them in somehow. Doing this keeps me away from model aircrafts. A good thing all round I'd say.

Where it is all leading will no doubt be a spectacular disappointment to me. I'm that certain that "Katie" is the product of skewed humor. Whatever. It has certainly given me something to write about.

I will of course be keeping all my faithful readers updated. Haha. Faithful readers... Sure. Righty ho.

Bugger.

I found out today that my Mother had six tickets to see Noam Chomsky at the McEwan hall lecture. And what did she do with them? Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zip. Fuck all.

To say I was a little bitty annoyed would be an understatement. But, Selah. So it goes.

Hide the porno's, Momma's coming to visit.

I'm shamed. Beyond belief.

My mother came to visit me this morning to continue the torture of re-decoration. She was in the cupboards, drawers and storage spaces quicker than Michael Jackson gets into a kindergarten.
It was a frightening experience. For both of us.

I was panicking that she wouldn't discover my box of porn mags. She was worried about seeing a spider.

I thought I had all my porn hidden away well enough to evade her. It was in a locked cupboard for fucks sake! One thing I have learned is that Mothers can pick locks. Or somehow have the ability to open locked cupboards.

Leads a merry dance.

Following the mails I got from "Katie Bairdie" today I am more and more of the mind that "katie Bairdie" is in fact my friend jenny. Ahh, well. Who knows? Not me. It's a minor puzzle to be sure.

The reasons for me thinking that "Katie" is Jenny, Or possiblly someone else I know, are many and I'm not about to waste a night of writing trying to figure it out. Fuck it. One thing is certain; until I meet "Katie" in the flesh there is no way of knowing for sure. So I'm not going to dwell on it. Selah.

*No offense to "Katie" is meant if you are not, as you claim, someone I know.

It's the communist in me.

Stolichnaya vodka with Coke over ice. Sheer bliss.

It's been a very easy day for me today. I've done nothing much other than smoke joints and drink vodka & Coke while surfing through porn galleries and sending E-Mails.

I've not heard anything back from "Katie Bairdie" as yet nor do I expect to. I strongly suspect that it was, after all, an attempt by a friend to wind me up. Who know? Who cares?

Not all of today was wasted though. I have arranged my hat collection onto my new shelves.



Nice huh?

GP gets going.

With only fifteen days until the start of the 2005 season the official Moto GP test at Catalunia was held this weekend.

My tip for this years crown, Gauloises Yamaha rider Valentino Rossi, placed second in the test with a fastest lap of 1'42.270 and commented afterwards...

"I'm happy because we did a great job here today during the test. Yesterday and Friday we had some problems and we didn't really understand why. We tried to follow a different way but it wasn't right. Today was much better. I made a small mistake in my hot lap in the qualifying session and I was second, but anyway I feel much happier.
The bike was much better to ride and felt good on the race tyres. It's fun to ride again, which is an important thing for me. We've still got a lot of work to do so hopefully we can continue in the same way at Jerez and find a good base setting for the circuit."

First place, and a brand new BMW series 1, went to last years runner up in the championship Sete Gibernau...

"Over the past three days we've found a good set-up for the bike and worked very well with Honda and Michelin. My pace has been fast and consistent and that is a credit to the hard work done by the team all winter.
That is the most important thing about this weekend although it was nice to finish with the fastest time - particularly for the fans, who came out in force to support us today."

Colin Edwards, who I have tipped for second place in the coming year, finished the weekend test in 7th place with a time of 1'43.131 saying later...

"I'm not disappointed with today but I have to say I'm not totally happy either. The main focus of the day was to run through a whole bunch of stuff that we could then either eliminate or proceed with. That's what these tests are for and from that point of view it was positive.
We've also done a lot of work on the tyres and at the moment I would say we've got a top five bike on our hands. Next week we've got to keep working, test a bunch more settings and make sure we've got the number one bike in time for the first race."

My third place tip for the championship, Troy Bayliss, finished the test in a dissapointing fiftenth place on the Camel Honda...

"I think that the times don't necessarily reflect the situation exactly because the day was a little weird. There were those who used a soft tyre in the timed session and those who did afterwards, those who made the most of it and those who didn't, and there were also those who improved their time from yesterday using race tyres. I'm one of the latter, and I'm particularly happy because I did it towards the end of the day, when the track was a lot cooler.
Apart from continuing with the set-up, I have found a front tyre that gives me confidence, so I'm anxious to get to Jerez to confirm these positive feelings."

Final times were as follows...

1. Gibernau (Honda) 1'41.851
2. Rossi (Yamaha) 1'42.270
3. Hayden (Honda) 1'42.507
4. Melandri 1'42.797
5. Tamada (Honda) 1'42.823
6. Biaggi (Honda) 1'42.977
7. Hopkins (Suzuki) 1'43.117
8. Edwards (Yamaha) 1'43.131
9. Barros (Camel Honda) 1'43.274
10. Capirossi (Ducati) 1'43.531

Katie Bairdie.

So It continues...

Hello again,
Very touching. I can see why your tutor liked it. There is a sense of emotion being given
wholeheartedly in it that is extremely difficult to fake.

I'm reminded of something I lost once by your poem. Moreover I'm spookily haunted as the something
I lost shared a name with you. Small bells ring in the meme that is me.

And on...

Oh dear maybe I'm bugging you now reminding you of things that are maybe best left alone! I can say that I don't think our paths have crossed in the same way that my poem implied at least not to my knowledge!

More?

Not at all. I'm just overanalyzing. It's a curse. I'm rather enjoying this mad little spurt of
thoughts and emotions over a telephone line.

So...

Do you overanalyze a lot? You're starting to keep me back now..I'm supposed to be typing up a set on meeting notes and agenda's for a design firm!! Real interesting. Anyway take some time and give me a chance to get this done a bit more. Tell me more about yourself.
Kate

And on, and on...

I work in a bowling club. It's duller than dishwater but it allows me to pay the bills, spend
the nighttimes writing and the daytimes sleeping.

Sorry for putting you up on my blog but I like to post at least once a day if I can and I couldn't
think of anything to write about. Hope you don't mind. Think of it this way, in two centuries time
when people are worshipping us like gods and geniuses these mails will be sellable in book form.
All things work out in the end.

Continues...

I don't mind. It reads quite well. Who knows if we end up as great mates or old marrieds one day we'll have something to look back on in cyberspace of our first meeting. I suppose that makes me your Particeps Criminus!!! I notice you like the use of a Latin phrase. Seize the day indeed!

Ad nauseum yet?

Hello again,
To say I overanalyze a lot is an understatement. But so it goes.

There's nothing much to know about me. I'm just the average 33 year old curmudgeon who has been
let down by the education system, local government, Scottish parliament, British government and the
UN.

I'm single, No surprise there, and live in Edinburgh with a large stereo and a pizza, kebab and
Chinese takeaway habit to feed. I have no pets. (If you don't count the occasional rogue spider
that I take a liking to.)

My favortite movies include Monty Pythons Life of Brian, Grosse point blanke, Catch 22 and far too
many more for me to list. I read a lot more, I suspect, than anyone else that was in my class at
WHEC ,(Wester Hailes Education Centre. That's an oxymoron. It was nothing more than a factory for
future McDonalds managers.).

I gotta be honest about the Latin thing. I just like using it to give a little credence to my
writing. When a monkey talks it only surprises you, when it talks in Latin scholars take note.
Hehe. If you don't tell I won't.

So what about yourself? I picture in my mind shoulder length darkish hair and green eyes, a nice
smile and a warm heart. But like I said, I overanalyze. Perhaps you are a crazed serial killer who
roams the world on stolen credit cards and false passports killing randomly based on my apparent
lack of care for humanity and it's foibles. If so please let me say I do have lots of love for
those in society that are thought not of by the general populace. I buy the big issue! Please
don't kill me!

Whoops, the mask fell for a second there. And the light shone through. Many possibilities that
remain in the mind. Ramble ramble ramble.

Generally I'm just your average arrested development poster child trying to make sense of life.
And failing. Spectacularly, in my opinion. How about yours?

I wonder where all this craziness will lead?

Haunted by my memory.

Following up on the strange E-mails I just recieved I have just been sent this small note that "Katie" has sent...

Maybe this will help...it's nothing exciting but it did help me graduate from second in prose!!
Don't laugh...my tutor liked it and it was written about something (or should that be someone?) that meant something at the time.

Growing...

capturing the moment
swirling around
blackness and darkness
flowing through sound

spirits depleted
empty despair
heart full of woe
lacking in care

emotional wasting
head heavy and sore
clouds descending
grey at the core

isolation and longing
quiet in pain
sense does not function
breathing no air


shrouded in misery
no laughter just woe
memories and confusion
why did we not grow?

This poem kicks the shit out of me because of the personal experience of my lifetime.

Me thinks I'm being had...

I just got this E-mail...

Hi Ross,

Hope you don't mind me e mailing like this. I came across your site by accident and wanted to say I really enjoyed it. You're a talented guy.

I really liked some of your views on life and the poems are really nice, very moving and creative.

I am currently studying english which I know is a bit boring but I am a writer as well and it helps with that. Comedy is not my thing though, it's more thought on current issues and I would like to get into biography writing eventually, at least I think I do.....but there's a lot of options out there!

I know this is a bit forward of me but I think you and I are a lot alike...obviously I'm basing that on what's on your site! I'm considered a bit off the wall by my friends because I have an opinion on things that don't always comply with the norm!

I won't bore you any further just now but if you'd like to reply and chat I'd really like that.

Pro Tempore

Kate

Thinking it is a wind up I pinged off this reply...

Nice try.

Jenny or Nikki. Whichever one of you it is.

Carpe Diem.
Ross Douglas.
Http://wakeup.to/ross
http://cnut.blogspot.com
the_poetmaster@yahoo.co.uk

To which I got the reply...

Sorry Ross, not sure what you mean? I can only assume you think this is a wind up!

Katie

And so...

I do think this is a wind up. Appologies if it's not.
I'm thinking that way because I seem to be attaching the name "katie Bairdie" to a work colleague.

Thanks for the comments. It is very rare that someone takes the time to send a note of praise.
Good for you. Civility costs nothing. And E-mailing costs less.

Do you have any writing I can have a look at? a webpage perhaps? (this would also help me to
accept that this is not a wind up.)

Maybe I'm just being a cynical cnut but I'm sure you will understand.

Carpe Diem.
Ross Douglas.

To which I got the reply...

Hey,

I totally understand...after all I came out the blue right?! My name is Kate but the name Katie Bairdie is a long standing nickname my grandad gave me..everyone calls me that even though I'm 28! I take it you have a colleague who is called that as well? What do you do for a living then?

I work from home in between the studying doing secretarial work for local businesses. It's meaningless but pays the bills!

I don't have a web page as yet but it's definitley something i'm looking into. I am a little worried that if I publish my writing on line someone will nick it as their own. It's a tough world!

I'm not sure how else to make you see me as "real"!

Anyway it's nice talking to you..

And now I'm totally confused. Is this a real person? or is it a workmate at the wind up? It's possible that I will never know. Selah.

International Bright Young Things. Updated again.

The populace of more and more countries come on board The Good Ship Ross' Blog and I'm proud to announce that I am now being read in...

• Holland.
• Chile.
• Malaysia.
• India.

I solemnly promise you now that I wont let it go to my head.

I'll never go so far as to announce a Jihad to kill all the capitalist pig-dogs or ask people from my country to defeat the axis of evil or anything like that. Though I do still want to wreck Billy Pipers career. Hey, You can't be all good.

Africa Update...

I have finally gotten permission from my bosses to take the month of May off to go to Africa to stay with my cousin.

Repetitio est mater studiorum.

As I will have a lot more time on my hands from now until after my return from Africa I'm going to be spending some time working on my Comedy routine. Whether writing or practicing my delivery.

I will also be looking into doing some Stand-Up workshops when I return from Africa.

All told I'll be posting a fair amount on here to fill the time, so if there is actually anyone out there that is taking a mild interest in my life, keep checking back to see what is happening in the life adventures of Ross Douglas.

Propria manu.

A car sweeps past the window on a street covered with rain as Neil Young plays "Dead Man" and my mind is set to wandering.

It's going to be a hectic week for me. On the 29th of this month my friend, Sara, arrives from Sweden to stay for four days.

Because of this my mother is doing her level best to drive me insane by "getting the house looking respectable."

It's never occurred to her that I may not want my house to look respectable. I like my little bachelor pad looking like the men behaving badly set. The Led Zeppelin poster on the wall, The Dutch TT flag draped over the fireplace, The stolen RAMP road sign above my bookcase next to my skateboard, The stereo that can shake the foundations of the building and the drum kit gathering dust in the corner are all more me than the hellish vision she more than likely has in mind for my house. I bet there will be chintz involved. Or least a throwrug. Whatever the fuck that is.

I dread to think.

I'm looking forwards to Sara coming over as it's been ages since I saw her. (For all I claim to love to write I sometimes lapse on keeping up with things in Sara's life.) After Sara leaves I'll be knuckling down to get the money together for Africa. So it's Goodbye to spending too much money on cigarettes, alcohol and drugs,.. Chinese takeaways, Pizza, Kebabs and Curries,.. And Hello to living on fish fingers, sausages, beans and the cheapest known to man chicken kievs. Drastic, I know, but if I'm too have as much fun (See; Money) on my African trip as I possibly can I'm willing to sacrifice as much as necessary.

Horas non numero nisi serenas.

And Rightly so. Righty ho. On with the wisdom...

There has always been something in my mind that told me I'm different. I think it's called Psychosis.

A Fool and his money are easily parted. Unless he's Scottish. In which case you'd be better off trying to teach a brick to jump when you call it's name.

A one legged man will never kick you.

You will never experience a drug as powerfully as the first time you tried it. But you can try.

You can lead a horse to water but you'll never get it to do calculus.

If you cannot see the woods for the trees; Cut a tree down, make a plank of 4x2 and have someone hit you in the head with it until your brain spills out.

Schrodinger's hamster never got the fame it deserved.

DIY trepanning should not be performed with a Bosch hammer drill when you've been drinking.

Violence solves nothing. But it does settle arguements in less time than a lengthy discussion.

Chomsky in Edinburgh.

World famous political commentator and linguistics expert Noam Chomsky will be lecturing at the McEwan Hall in Edinburgh University at 5:15PM GMT on the 22nd of this month.

Due to the large demand for tickets and the event selling out there will be a live web broadcast from the university. Click here to watch the webcast.

Chaos on the horizon...

There is to be a re-enactment of the crucifixion of Christ in Edinburgh on Easter Saturday and I'm going to go along. Just for the laughs.

Nothing much about the crucifixion is very funny, you may think, and you would be abso-fuckin-lutly correct about that. But imagine being there and seeing a guy with a large banner reading "Nail him up!". That's funny. This is what I shall be doing. While wearing a T-Shirt that says Suicide Bomber.

Now; You may be thinking that doing this is highly offensive to Christians all over the world, and once again you would be correct in this assumption, which is exactly why I'm going to do it. Religion is the biggest mindfuck ever invented by mankind and for what it's worth I'm going to tell as many people as I can that this is so. The time has come to realize our full potential, let's drop this bullshit about there being an invisible bogeyman in the sky and wake up to our destiny. A world of Peace and love.

I spoke to my brother in law who is a brother in law (he's a cop.) to see what, if anything, I could be arrested for for protesting in public. He said I would be asked to move on.
"And if I don't?" I asked.
"You'll be told to move on."
"And if I don't?" I enquired further.
"You'll be arrested." He stated.
"For?" I asked.
"Public nuiscence or breach of the peace." He said.
"What's the punishment for that?" I asked.
"Fine. Probably a couple of hundred pound. You may get bound over to keep the peace for a couple of months." He told me, then asked why. So I told him my plan. He shook his head and said quietly, "Don't", Which I knew to be him warning me that it would be frowned upon by my family.

I'm not bothered about any flack I may get from my family, or from anyone else for that matter, so I'm going to do it and let what is to happen happen. If I do get arrested I'll be filling a tickbox on my list of things to do before I die so there's nothing to worry about.

The only possible thing I may not be able to control in doing this is that I may be lynched by a gang of angry Christians. They may re-enact the Crucifixion in more ways than one.

Things start to look up.

I finally found out from my bosses that I can get the month of may off to go to Africa. Whoo fucking hoo.

This is great news. I'll be blogging my visit on a new blog that I'll get closer to the time.

I'll be commandeering my mothers digital camera to post pics from the trip so you will be able to view them at your leisure.

Vote now.

The last great wilderness are in the running to get their demo "American Pornography" played on BBC Radio Scotland. Please vote for this song to win the demo vote here.

Cacoethes scribendi

It's been a long couple of days. I've not slept much more than an hour since 2pm on Thursday.

The Comedy Writers Masterclass was on Friday. At 11am Friday morning I was standing outside St Andrews Square bus station drinking a 6 esspresso shot latte coffee, smoking like the Marlboro lab workers favorite beagle, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses in the pouring rain. At 12:15 I was in a bar opposite Buchanan Street Bus station in Glasgow drinking rum and coke.

The venue for the masterclass was The Stand comedy club on Woodlands Road. It went well. A lot of hints on where to send scripts and how to format them were gained. The knowledge I now have stored in my head will be put to use over the coming months to put together some of my comedy skits into some TV companies. Only time will tell if I'll get something put out on air. I'll keep you up to date on any happenings so stay tuned and all will come to fruition. I hope.

I'm also putting together a project with my friend Steff involving us making a few small comedy skits and filming it to put up on the net. This should be fun. We also plan on doing a lot of stuff when the Edinburgh Festival is on in August. Street interviews, mad scenes in public areas, etc etc.

Oh come all ye faithful... Honda aint triumphant!

The Moto GP season gets underway on the 10th of April and even though I know it's all fixed by the organizers before the season gets underway I'm still looking forwards to watching Valentino Rossi, Sete Gibernau, Max Biaggi, Colin Edwards, Troy Bayliss.. Et al ride millions of pounds worth of motorcycles to their absolute limit. And, on occasion, beyond.

I've loved watching GP's faithfully ever since watching BBCs Grandstand when I was still wearing shorts. Not that I have stopped wearing shorts, In fact, I'm currently wearing a pair of rather fetching Bermuda shorts...

My tips for this years championship in the Moto GP class are,

1. Valentino Rossi. A man who, it would seem, does not believe in physics and if he does then only acknowledges them when he really must. Possibly the greastest rider of his era.
   
2. Colin Edwards. I'd love to see Colin Edwards lift the trophy but I fear he will not be given the same support from the team as Valentino will. Colin has always been a consistantly good rider who will make a bike, whether it is a World Superbike or a GP machine, do seemingly impossible things.
3. Troy Bayliss. Just 'cos he's from Australia and because he can light up the rear and smoke the tyres on any bike and make it look easy. Which it isn't.

ad captandum.

Tommorow Is the day of my BBC Comedy Writers Masterclass.

Stay tuned...

Sunlit stairway.

Sunlite stairway.
Originally uploaded by Ross Douglas.

This is the view I get as I walk up the last flight of stairs to my flat. It's not that much as views go, but for residents of flats all over Edinburgh this view is always associated with home.

Notice, if you will, the two toned wall covering which still holds close to its bosom the charm and atmosphere of a 1970's lunatic asylum. This view is what drives many a man to drink, drugs and desperation. Women and children are not safe either.

Picture this...

I have now joined flickr to allow me to post pics onto my blog.

Now all I need is a decent digital camera to allow me to take pictures worth posting. I do have a digital camera but it's as reliable as a 1986 Vauxhall Chevette and for some reason never takes a picture that isn't blurry. I think it may be possessed by the spirit of Oliver Reed.

I think I'll invest in a decent camera. I'll more than get my moneys worth out of it. Plus, you'll be able to look at my pictures and not wonder why anyone would give an epileptic a camera to play with.

I'll also be able to use it to post my pics from my African trip... If my bosses ever get the finger out and let me know if I can take the time off. (I spoke to one of my bosses today and he told me that the reason I had not been given a decision was that at the last management meeting there were not enough committee present to make up a quorum.) Yeah. Sure. Righty Ho! It aint rocket science. Ahh, Fuck 'em.

I'm also starting to become interested in how I can get the most out of this blogging gig and will be trying to change the look of it and get more content and links onto here. I signed up for blogrolling two days ago and have not recieved a confirmation mail yet for some reason. As soon as that arrives I'll be adding links as and when it takes my fancy.

Right now all that takes my fancy is food. Time to eat.

The Daily Grind...

Continues. So it goes. Selah.

There is still no word from my bosses at the club as to whether or not they will allow me to take a month off to go to Africa. How I keep my sanity and don't go on a killing spree is beyond me.

My bosom swells with pride...

I have to say even though this blog was started as a bit of a fuck about I'm rather enjoying writing it. I only hope that you enjoy reading it.

Such fun I've had.

While I was randomly searching amongst the pages of the wikipedia yesterday I stumbled across this page of Latin phrases. Nothing special in that you may think. But you would be wrong. Very wrong indeed. Using a small sample of the phrases contained I managed to convince at least 4 dozen people that I'm able to speak Latin.

Until yesterday my entire knowledge of the Latin language was "Romanes Eunt Domus" and I only knew that because of the graffiti sketch in Monty Pythons Life of Brian. But no more! I am, in the minds of others, able to understand Latin.

So in the interest of science, and to share the laughs with you, here's how to bluff that you know Latin.

Phase 1.

1. Learn a few of the phrases on this page.
2. Memorize your chosen phrases and their meanings.

Phase 2.

1. Use one of these phrases in a conversation with the unsuspecting "victim" of your bluff.
   

(In order to make sure that your victim doesn't know Latin themselves it's important to use a phrase you have memorized the meaning of &, if possible, try to use the phrase in the right context. My tip; Keep it simple.)

If everything goes ok and you carry your performance off well enough the person you were just talking to thinks you speak Latin. I've been doing it all day. It's been a hoot.

Aegri somnia

Two military jets just flew over my house at an altitude of about 2000ft. The window I sit next to shook as they roared overhead. The birds on the rooftops opposite took off and flew in either a state of shock or as a challenge to the winged invaders on their patch. Who knows? Possibly the pidgeons but they ain't telling anyone.

It could be something to do with the rugby international being held at Murrayfield today between Scotland and Wales. Or it could be that Edinburgh Airport is involved in a major terrorist situation and the RAF have been ordered to attend... I'm inclined to think it's for the rugby. Edinburgh airport is as much a terror target as my kitchen is. In other words; It ain't. On the global map of terror targets Edinburgh is only just above Costa Rica, the Galapagos Islands and the Isle Of Man.

If I were to believe everything I see on the news, then I may start to believe that Terrorists are, at this very moment, lurking in shadowy corners plotting unspeakable acts upon you and I. But I ain't that gullible. I hope you are also not that gullible. You always seemed rational enough to me.

I'm fortunate that I live in Scotland. A lot more fortunate than some poor swine who lives in a country that when he hears a military jet fly overhead he wonders not what sporting occasion is taking place but wonders if this is the white noise that brings death and destruction to his door. The last blinding flash he sees is not that of the afterburners kicking in as the jets whoosh over a housing scheme and head into the distance but is that of his life being stolen from him by a missile that cost enough money to feed his offspring for centuries.

And this is the world that we live in.

Why?

And so ends another day in the life of...

Me.

And a damn good one it was too. As they all are.

Be afraid. Be Very afraid.

Put your hands over your eyes, Scrunch a cushion into your face, Hide behind the sofa, Do Anything, just make sure you do not see the new series of Doctor Who when it launches onto the gogglebox. Spend some time in the garden, Go for a jog, Climb Everest, Swim to Greenland, Join the foreign legion if no other way out presents itself to you. Just DO NOT, for the love of GOD, Watch this garbage.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not lambasting the Doctor Who series of programs in any way whatsoever, I'm just appealing to the general public to help me generate viewing figures so low that they pull the plug on Billy Piper's career in acting. It's a mercy killing. Trust me.

Now, Before you all start thinking I'm some mad Doctor Who fan let me clear this issue up and say I'm not. I don't go in for all that dressing up as a cyberman & attending fan gatherings to discuss plot holes and swap amusing anecdotes bullshit. I evolved past that. I realize IT'S ONLY TV!

* I did attend a Doctor Who exhibition once. Only because my Brother insisted on seeing it and my Mother wouldn't allow me to wait in the pub. I was only six, so I can let her off the hook. But my Brother? I'm still considering it.

It's not too much to ask in life is it? I mean come on, If the BBC really insist on making a whole new series of Doctor Who using the latest CGI technology and spending £1million on each episode, Why the hell do they fuck it up so spectacularly by giving The Doctor an irritating blonde midget for an assistant? Was the ginger bint Bonnie Langford not enough?

Perhaps this was how the phone call at/to the BBC went...

Producer; OK you guys, let's do it. Let's make a new Doctor Who series. I want it BIG. ENORMOUS. HUGE. I want ILM, CGI and Spielberg. I want it to be a large American-market-friendly spectacular. I want merchandising. Lunchboxes, Duvet Covers, Calendars, T-Shirts, DVD's, Action figures & Pinball machines. I want a family show. I want women's flesh for the Dads to ogle and rugged good looks for the Mums to lust after. I want monsters for the kids, Science for the geeks and gore for the freaks. I want Buffy meets Back To The Future with ET's, MIB's, LGM's, Davros and DALEKS! DALEKS! DALEKS!

Poorly Paid BBC lackey; Will that be all your Evilness?...

Ad libitum

I received a letter from the BBC about attending their Comedy Writing Masterclass. On headed paper. Oooooo, I feel so privileged. Yeah sure. My itchy arsehole I do.

BBC Scotland

10th march 2005

BBC Scotland Writing Comedy Comedy Masterclass

Thank you for your interest, we are not sending out tickets, but if you would still like to attend your name will be on the door.

Friday 18th March
The Stand Comedy Club 333 Woodlands Road Glasgow G3 6NG
Event starts at 2pm, please try to arrive for 1:45pm. Should run for around 1hr 30mins.

Thank You


BBC Scotland
0141 338 3491

It's good to see that they are taking me seriously enough that they have decided to put my name on the door. Perhaps I'll get a twinkly star and a mirror with lights around it as well. It's all just so real.

Work time again.

It's never ending. I wake, I wash, I work. Etc etc etc. Ad Infinitum. And so the cycle of life goes. Fuck all that ascent of man bullshit. No doubt you have days like this. If not, Why not?

Googlewhacking.

Damn and Blast.

For the last hour I've been sitting trying to find a googlewhack. I thought I'd found one, with kleptomaniacal speakerphone, but according to the Whack checker on Googlewhack.com I do not have a Whack! To add to their stack. Why this is I have no idea. Fuck what they say. I'm claiming it.

Babel Fish double translation game. [ Babelfish 二重翻訳ゲーム。 ]

This tool is very cool. It also can be seriously funny.

1. [ この用具は非常に涼しい。それはまた真剣におかしい場合もある。 ]
2. [ This equipment is cool very. In addition as for that when it is strange seriously, it is.

Take any semi-random sentence & translate it into a different language. Then take the result for the sentence you just translated and translate it back into your native tongue. Instant laughs.

1. semi-random 文を取りなさい及び別の言語に翻訳しなさい。そしてあなたがちょうど翻訳した取り、あなたの母国語に翻訳しなさい文のための結果を。即刻の笑い。
2. Do to take the semi-random sentence and translate in another language. And translate in the taking and your native language which you translate exactly the result for the sentence. Instantly laughing.

Hey I know it aint that funny but I liked it.

What is a man to do?

When faced with the question...

"It's 01:26 and I have work at 09:00. Should I go to bed and try for some sleep? Or use the half gram of base I have in my wallet to stay awake & alert and write all night?"

What should I do? Hmmm. It's a teaser. I'm in two minds. Seriously.
I need to look at this closely. Should I once again put my health, both mental and physical, at risk just for the sheer hell of it? Just for the kicks? I really shouldn't, but the little voice in my head is telling me to go for it and pull the trigger. But then again, that's what the little voice always says.

It's not like it would be the first time I have pulled the trigger on a mad night of drugs and doing whatever I fancy like I'm possessed. I'm known for doing shit like that. In fact; I revel in it.

I regularly tell people at the club of my insane drug consumption. My boss makes ironic observations about me being a Skyhighatryst. Club members [who will remain nameless] have sold me drugs! How insane is that? This is the state of lawn bowling today... Sir Frances Drake would be ashamed.

But I digress. Where was I?
Oh yeah, Should I light the blue touchpaper, retire to safety & go to bed? Or should I let my fingers do the walking & write?

Maybe I should go to bed. That'd be the right thing to do.

Super-cool-&-funky-music-recommended-by-me... Update.

This week has been a time for retrospective looks into time with music from my collection of LP's as my guide.

I've been listening to...

• Happy Mondays. Pills, Thrills & Bellyaches.
  
• Madness. Greatest Hits.
  
• Bad Manners. Hits.
  
• The Stone Roses. The Stone Roses. & Second Coming. (Which I rated 5* even though most didn't.)
  
• ZZ Top. Deguello.
  
• Queen. Killers. Hot space. Night at the opera. Day at the races.
  
• Pink Floyd. The Wall. Dark Side of the moon.
  
• Led Zep. I, II, III, Four symbols & Houses of the Holy.
  
• Bob Marley. Legend.
  
• Public Enemy. Nation of millions.
  
• Warren G. Regulate.
  
• Meat Beat Manifesto. MBM.
  
• The Kleptomaniacs. In Colour.
  

In doing so I have spent the last week firmly rooted in the 1970's and the 1980's. Fun days indeed. For me anyhoo. I have no idea about you. Perhaps you are reading this in the future. Fucked if I know.

Pan galactic gargle blaster anyone?

How cool a tool is this?

International bright young things. Update.

Ahh the joy of being read on an international scale. I feel giddy.

I am now being read in

• Japan. (Which is the reason that this post is in Japanese.)
  
• New Zealand.
• Brazil.

By whom? I have no idea but you are all very welcome. I feel like buying you all a drink. Honestly, I'm not just saying that, I mean it.

イエス・キリストの神聖な従卒

私は日本語である誰かによって今読まれている。

Reading update.

I've not been reading a hell of a lot over the last couple of weeks.

I occasionally have little periods of time when I do not read anything much more than I can possibly avoid. Mail remains unopened on the floor behind the door, Newspapers sit forlornly on the coffee table, web pages gather information at the speed of light and I plod merrily on through my life with a smile on my face.

No news is always good news.

Yesterday as I walked into town with my friend Steff I saw a Barnardos shop with a large book display in the window. I popped in and bought...

• Michael Crichton - Timeline
• Charles Dickens - Dombey and son
• Dave Gorman - Googlewhack.

I also purchased a second hand copy of Black Grape's "It's great when youre straight. Yeah!" Which I have been singing along to as I listen to it for the first time since I last heard it years ago.

A man I never knew.

I never met Gene Pulley but he did have a profound effect on my life. Indirectly. He created a friend of mine. His Daughter Sandra.

May he rest in peace and may Sandra find peace in his rest.

Poto Voce.

The little voice tells me "That which you dreamed of is yours to have."

Do I dare follow a dream? Why not? An old African saying I once read states "You are the dream of someone dreaming you" Or something like that. I can't be fucked looking up the source. It's from Richard E Grant's film diary "Withnails" if you wanna look it up.

I'm drawn to the thought of life as a dream. Why the hell not? Cultures the world over talk of dreams being wisdom from the gods, Aborigibal tribes of Australia tell tales of the "dreamtime", Humanity dreams of a life where we love one another, Martin Luther King had a dream, John lennon was a dreamer and Bill Hicks said it best with.. "All matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, We are all one, there is no such thing as death, Life is but a dream and we are the imagination of ourselves."

The dreamers are remembered. We are legion. Let the dreaming begin.

Africa update.

I have been mulling over whether or not I should go to Africa for the month of may and have come to the conclusion that if I don't go then I will be adding to my own personal "What if" list. I have too many "What ifs" list already. I don't want anymore.

So, I have just written to my bosses asking them for the month as a holiday. I should find out if I'm able to get the time off at some point tonight. If my bosses decide not to give me the time off, Fuck it, I will quit & go to Africa anyhoo. I have one life and I will have many jobs in that timespan.

Decisions decisions...

It's a difficult choice. Should I go to africa for a month? Hmmm, It's a toughie.

As I posted previously I have been invited to Africa for a month by my cousin and today I found out that it's only £300 for the flight. I'd be mad not to take this opertunity. Very mad.

My only worry, as far as I am concerned, is my house and what to do with it while I am away. I was thinking of renting it out for the month but I can't see anyone wanting to rent a house in Edinburgh for only one month.

I'd give it up and get a new gaff when I got back but my Mum is telling me not to as she thinks that is a stupid idea. Her reasoning is that it's a council house and if I were to purchase it I'd be able to sell, or rent, it and get some money behind me.

My Dad, on the other hand, says "Fuck the house. Go to Africa."

I'm inclined to follow my Dads advice. It's only a house to me. It's not home. I'm not sure where home is yet. As far as I am concerned my flat is merely, as George Carlin said, "Somewhere to store my shit" and somewhere to sleep at the end of the day. Nothing much more.

I will be thinking about this one hard for the next few days. I'll keep you updated one way or the other.

♫ "Kick out the jams...

Mother Fucker."
♫ Dada dada dum de dum, Dada dada dum de dum. ♫
"Well I been selected to rock your asses till midnight. This is my term, and I've jammed up my perm but it's all right"
♫ Dada dada de dum de dum, Dada da dum de dum ♫
"I solemnly swear to uphold the constitution, Got a rock and roll problem? Well we got the solution, Just let me be who I am, And let me kick out the jams, Yeah!" And so on, and so on.

The Presidents of the United States said it best.
In life you must take NO shit and kick out the jams. No matter what you do. Do it with style & elan. Go BIG. Or don't go at all.

Stab in the dark.

I've just booked two tickets for my writing partner & I to go to Glasgow on the 18th of this month to attend a BBC Comedy writers workshop. It's all part of the Glasgow comedy festival.

We're hoping to get some ideas on how to write for screen.

If it sucks like a cheap hooker we'll get rowdy and tape it all on the camcorder.

Open debate.

This story was written by me. It's a story of how not to go about getting a cup of coffee.

This version is what the editors at utterpants did to it.

Which do you think is the better? Please let me know. I'm a curious kinda guy.

Cyber Whore.

A voice in my head tells me I should be ashamed. It calls me horrible things. Things that NO person should ever hear. Terrible, vicious, spiteful things.

Why does this voice in my head say these things to me? Because it knows that I have just finished listing my blog on five directories. Shame on me. In a little less than a week I have gone from being a mild mannered occasional blogger to a relentless whore for hits. How low can I stoop?

I can't help it. I think I may have a deep void in me that needs filling up with platitudes from strangers. It may be I have some deep rooted issues. Who knows? Not me.

Weather report.

Tonight it is very cold. My hands are a strange purple colour and my fingers will not co-operate to hit the keys properly. Or in the right order. I really should put the heating on but I'm going to bed in less than half an hour so why bother?

The Pentland Hills in the distance are blanketed with snow.
The Water of Leith rushes along taking the Pentland Hills to the sea grain by grain.
The Firth of Forth swallows the Water of Leith like a Blue Whale.

( Which would all look spectacular if half of Edinburgh was bulldozed to allow me to see the view. )

Out of Africa.

Mucho surpriso! I've been invited to go to Africa for a month.

I got an e-mail from my cousin asking me if I'd like to go over for the month of may. Need to bash a few details out firstly before I can say yea or nae.

Wanted...

A laptop.

Preferably at a price of less than £100. Nothing fancy. Just something that I can wirelessly post to my blog.

If I had this capability I'd surely be President of the World in less than a month.

Personal appearances.

I now see myself as some kind of minor celebrity. All because of my 100 blog hits, 7000 spoof headline hits & 2900 webpage hits. Sad I know but hey, I need something to keep me interested in breathing.

As a minor celebrity I figure I really should start doing personal appearances. Not for the kudos; you understand, but for a little extra money and to give me something exiting to write about.

If you should feel that your Stag night, Corporate event, Bar mitzva or childrens party needs a little added ZANG drop me a line letting me know what time the limo is picking me up and I'll try to squeeze you into my schedule. ( Please note; I may dress like a drugged up madman but I like to travel in luxury so nothing less than first class is acceptable. )

Next thing I feel I should get is a Personal Assistant. Please send CV's to my usual address.
( Women with long black hair, blue eyes, big boobs, sexy spectacles and loose morals will be given preferential treatment. )

International bright young things.

I recently put a free counter on this blog to see if it is being read and fuck me if I aint had 100 visitors to my blog since I installed it.

What surprised me was that some of the visitors are from other countries.
So far I have had hits from...

• USA - ( Kansas. California. North Carolina. Washington. New York & Southern California )
• Canada - ( Ontario & British Columbia )
• Spain - ( Valenciana & Madrid )
• Australia - ( New South Wales )
• France.
• Germany.
  

International fame awaits me.

No more sitting in a cold one-bedroomed council house in Edinburgh for me. Build me a hilltop mansion in the Bahamas, Buy me a Mclaren Mercedes SLR & Bring on the dancing girls! I'll be in the study with a bottle of Johnny Walker & a Cuban cigar. Send in a midget with a tray of cocaine on his head and I'll be happy.

In need of guidance.

I feel I'm missing out on something... Some grand secret only obtainable after a lifetime of study and dedication (or huge amounts of drugs over a period of more than half your current lifespan) has not yet been revealed to me.

(I qualify on grounds of the second way to enlightenment by the way.)

Maybe it's the ten to fifteen joints a day habit I have... Ahem. Cough.. Cough... GargleGaspHackCough.... There goes a lung. Fuck it; I have another one.

Super-cool-&-funky-music-recommended-by-me...

It's not often I stumble upon a band that I'd shamelessly promote or tout to my friends and family, I do that mostly with comedians I've heard, but Last Great Wilderness is a different kettle of sturgeon.

I "discovered" LGW by random chance. I was playing yahoo pool and bumped into the lead singer, If you can bump into someone on the net that is... anyhoo, while we were playing he informed me that he was in a band. I told him I'd be interested in hearing some of their music. He then went on to tell me that if I gave him my E-Mail address he'd send me a couple of their songs. So I gave him it & promptly forgot all about ever receiving any music from him.

Until I got two mp3's in my mailbox the very next day.

So there I am. Sat in front of my PC wondering whether or not I should download them and have a listen.

"What the hell" thought I.

Clickety click.
Download.
Clickety click.
Play.

One of the tracks had me sitting up and taking notice. A rare thing indeed when you're as scatalogical as I am. A jolt shot up my spine as American Pornography fedback into the sonarscape in my head. 4 minutes and 37 seconds later I played it again. The effect did not differentiate. A good sign. So I played it again. Still no change in opinion. To say I was shocked at what I heard would be an understatement. I was Nuked, Fried & Blown away. Get some.

A singer/songwriter just starting to hit the UK pop charts, with the track "They" from her debut album Finally Woken, to keep a close eye on is Jem. With tunes like Flying High, Come On Closer and It's Just A Ride it's certain we will hear a lot more of Jem in the coming years. Get some.