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HappyNewtEars. Comin' soon. Nige's 'Guitar Bar' - a live informal music venue in a city/town club pub or coffee bar. Coming very soon. it'll be like the Hard Rock Cafe. Except the guitars won't be sealed in glass cases on the wall, they'll be leaning against the wall waiting to get picked up and played.... If I can get funding to advance the project! (shit)
Don’t watch X Factor. Don’t like the way everyone is gagging for fame. I know ritualistic humiliation goes on in the Industry (it’s ‘part’ of the industry!) but I’m a snob and I find seeing it displayed as entertainment tasteless. And By the Way: How dare they demean drug use by associating it with a shabby little X Factor contestant. I, for one, will never take cocaine again.
The Pleasure of Recording Whole Series and Watching Complete Boxed Sets.
The Killing: Apart from creating a bit of a fad for chunky mohair knitwear, after watching all of series one over 4 days I’m actually thinking in Dutch. Better than last year when I watched the Wire and Sharpe concurrently and was speaking in mixed patios of Bostonian drug dealing gang-member and broad Sheffield brogue. ‘bloody by‘eck motherfucker’
The Killing: The OCD procedurals of CSI and the intrigue of a Steig Larsson novel. But it’s the governmental inter-office too-ing-and-froing that really intrigues me.
Movies End of Harry Potter: Seems like ages ago. Where are they now? Harry actor ’Dan’ Radcliffe is going to do a Gary Oldman…That’s a move to LA, get drunk for 10 years and (yet still manage) to hopefully have a career in his late middle age. Gary managed to marry a 19 yr old Uma Thurman when he was in LA at the height of his razz addiction too. Not bad. I bet Hermione is getting offered a few ‘Black Swan’ scripts…
Bridesmaids. ‘Cos it’s funnier second time and reminds me of Ab Fab which (I hope) will be great this Christmas too, along with Dr Who which I always hope (?) will be great…It’ll probably be a ‘magical’ storyline this year. The Fighter (again) for the bickering female ensemble. Didn’t actress Melissa Leo take out Hollywood Trade Ads promoting herself to win an Oscar? What Chutzpah!
Rash of Sci-Fi Movies in 2011- Thor, Green Lantern, Sucker Punch, Captain America, Transformer 3 Pirates of the Caribbean 4 …(All vaguely landfill/film dross. I find the experience lessened by the constant business-like BS of the Media and the Film Industry who’re seemingly more interested in what a project cost and how the achieved the effects than the merits the film itself. It’s the irritating pseudo-industry-speak of our Thatcherite entrepreneurial go-getter culture.) Liked X Men 1st Class, The Adjustment Bureau and Rise Of The Planet of the Apes. Even more planned throughout 2012 X Men 3, The Avengers, and Spider Man, re-webbed. World War Z (Shot partly in Glasgow) Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3D And Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter. I HOPE that it sticks to the history and doesn’t besmirch his legend.
And I enjoyed Everything Must Go. But I enjoy Will Ferrell in almost anything. A vaguely transcendental film. Television; A Reworked Star Trek series featuring a young Jean Luc Picard. The actor better be bald!
A dyslexic Childs' Christmas Wish.
“I really hope I get lots of great presents off Satan”
Adele’s Pre-Gig Rider – 12 beers and one bottle of red wine. It’s nowhere near enough to get the party started is it? Where’s the kingsize Rizla and army of dwarves carrying silver salvers piled high with premium grade cocaine? Oh, Daniel O’Donnell’s tour has snaffled all the midgets and skins again! Here’s a handy sore throat cure Adele, you fat insipid MOR bland Lidl level diva. An Innocent organic yoghurt smoothie is a great place to ‘hide’ a 25cl shot of vodka. Nutritious and uplifting. Well, if it worked for Susan Boyle…. Talking of fat arses, Jenny from the Block and the Fiat 500 Advert campaign has hit the skids. Jennifer Lopez squeezed her bulbous arse into a tiny Fiat 500, but couldn’t bring herself to visit her old Bronx stamping ground to shoot the driving scenes. La Lopez shot her footage in LA instead. J-Lo driving a titchy Fiat 500. Somehow I doubt it…If pigs could fly… Talking of pigs, Alex James, the plummy, grinning one from Blur defends Jeremy Clarkeson. What do you expect? They like to hang out on their big country estates, milking each others’ ample breasts, and industriously churning the yellowy curd into select cheeses that smell of pure, pungent, refined, indolence. ...Anyway, what’s wrong with Jeremy Clarkeson airing his ‘jokey’ ‘satirical’ viewpoint and being his good-old predicable and opinionated self? The real problem is the stuffy staleness of The One Show and the inability of it’s pair of nodding dog presenters to challenge Clarkesons views by calling him a rich, obnoxious boorish twat, who’s rubbery lolling jowls actually ebb and flow with the waxing and waning of the lunar cycle. And for all you aging New Lads out there who still think Jeremy ‘tells it like it is’ etc.., Jeremy thinks you’re a stinking chav criminal gypo OCD retard who should be conscripted immediately so you can all go and die in a needlessly barbaric and pointless war!
What’s the matter, can’t take a joke?
PS: His name is Jeremy. I mean, come on, ‘Jeremy’.
I bet everyone was as shocked and appalled as I was seeing that You tube clip of a deeply offensive drunk and racist woman with a small child on the London Underground this week? It seems we’ve all been PUNK’D. It was infact a flashmob of actors free improvising the whole scenario! Lead actress Monsserat La-Grange admitted her ‘Alf Garnett’ was entirely stage-managed. ‘The child is our directors lad, Augusto Bontempii’, we were going to do a song and dance scene from Grease, then our confrontational director Augusto, or ‘Gus, for short, really wanted us to push the envelope.
It’s been a slim news week for me as I’ve been busy watching the original series of The Killing in it’s entirety. All 20 hours over the last 3 days. I’m now actually thinking in Dutch! Still, it’s better than last year, when I watched The Wire and Sharpe concurrently. I ended up using mixed-up patios consisting half Baltimore drug dealer street slang and half early1800’s broad Sheffield brogue. 1979: Richard Branson signs the Sex Pistols at the height of their notoriety, now Branson’s Virgin Group have bought loss-making bank Northern Rock. Who knew that over 30 years later he would literally be making Cash From Chaos? PS: The Northern Rock taxpayer bailout cost Brits £13 a head. I wonder if I can get any credit on my Virgin mobile phone contract in exchange? It’s the 30th Anniversary of the Brixton Riots. How do you propose celebrating that? Maybe a national holiday, some Molotov Cocktails lobbed through a supermarket window, a rucksack full of bricks for chucking at the cops and ram-raid JJB Sports for some Reebok before going home to watch Strictly with the family on our brand new Plasma liberated from Currys. Silvio Berlusconi releases album ‘True Love’. Seeing as he’s alleged to have paid for sex with underage prostitutes at his notorious ‘Bunga Bunga parties’ he does have some pretty immaculate rock’n’roll credentials. He’s already booked for Glastonbury next year and there are plans for a tour with Pete Doherty. If only Silvio had the courage of his convictions and joined the 27 Club! Adolf Hitler’s monogrammed bed linen is to be auctioned in Bristol next week. Go on, make a neo-nazis Christmas, buy him Hitler’s pillowcase and see the little crypto-fascists face light up on Christmas Day morning. You could even sellotape a stray pube to the linen and let him think it was one of Adolfs. Freebass have split up! After five years work on an album, bass-playing trio Mani (Primal Scream) Andy Rourke (The Smiths) and Peter Hook (New Order) have split over ‘Musical Differences’. On what alternate reality was it ever a good idea for three BASSPLAYERS to consider recording material together? God only knows what it sounded like. Five years noodling around a studio recording ‘bass’. Not one, but three basses. Allegedly, it was so bad, that even Chris Moyles wouldn’t play it. And Moyles would play the sound of an ant crawling over his scrotal sac if he thought it would get him some publicity. I must hear this album immediately! Recent figures show that the biggest rise in youth unemployment in 17 years has hit the North worst in the UK. And there are more redundancies expected in Britain’s biggest youth employer, the Retail Sector. That’s less dead eyed monosyllabic staff in JJB Sports and River Island. It’s not all bad news though, pot-holers have linked a network of caves and tunnels in Lancashire joining Cambrian and Yorkshire cave systems. So, (hear me out) why not turn this labyrinth of caves into a movie themed underground roller-coaster/ghost-train? I’m thinking of the manic rickety tram ride in Indiana Jones: Punters speeding through dank caves and down deep chasms chock full of young unemployed Northerners dressed as Orcs, Zombies and characters from Harry Potter. Come on, it’s got to be better than spitting in the food at Burger King or pretending you give a shit about coffee in Prêt. BMA push for smoking ban in cars. How about a farting ban? My dad farted in an Austin Allegro in 1989, the smell was so cloyingly acrid and burningly pungent, no amount of Fruits of the Forest hanging tree air fresheners made a dent in it. He had to sell the car two months later. The new owner had it scrapped a week after after that. It’s probably been recycled, so that stinging burning hair death taint is still out there somewhere.
I’m fed up of television lazily remaking so-called classic shows from bygone eras. Jimmy Car doing Countdown and Shane Ritchie remaking Jim’ll Fix it. It’s literally a no-brainer for Broadcasters. Old format new audience! These quiz shows will reflect NOTHING of life in modern Britain; the broadcasters need to commission something that properly addresses life in the UK. How about ‘Class War’ a quiz hosted by Stephen Fry and Len Goodman, where The Poor compete for a prized slap up meal for seven in a Toby Carvery of their choosing (off the North Circular) whilst The Rich play to get Kenya re-annexed and placed again under British Sovereign Rule. And Alain de Boton actually explains just why (on so-many-levels) Freddy Starr ate that hamster.
As the Travellers quietly return to Dale Farm, The British Film Industry have commissioned a feature film covering the tumultuous eviction event of a few weeks ago … Tinkers, Trailers and Private Security Operatives Destroyed My White Goods With An Axe, stars James Nesbitt in dual roles as both hot-headed 'head of the Pikeys' 'Jinco' and as post-traumatic, ex-alcoholic ‘maverick’ local lawman 'Baneman' who, predictably takes the Law into his own hands bareknuckle fighting the pikey Queen. After Banemans violent impregnation, he lays a brood of giant pulsing gray eggs in a petrol station forecourt, that actually stands over a dimensional parallel portal awaiting a signal to deploy it's 'Thought bombs'.... Sorry shoulda said 'Spoiler Alert'.... Silvio Berlusconi vows to resign. A sleazy old sex addict as prime minister is bad enough, but if you use ruthless racketeering murderers like the Mafia to sell, so called ‘Goodfellas’ pizzas then what do you expect. Italy is clearly as morally redundant as it is financially bereft. Can you imagine a similar scenario in the UK? B&Q’s new range of ‘Fred West endorsed’ bin-bags, quick drying cement and patio redesigns a big DIY hit this Christmas.... John Leslie for PM. A Christian couple who were ordered to pay damages after refusing to let a gay couple stay in their Cornish guests house are appealing against their conviction, telling judges that they are allowed to hold ‘outdated’ beliefs. Obviously this could become a legal test case. Should the couple get away with holding their ‘Outdated Beliefs’, the Catholic Church could forever remain completely unaccountable. A crew of six Russians stay cooped-up in cramped windowless conditions for nearly two years to simulate a mission to Mars. Easy I say! Just do what oil riggers do. Take a terabyte hard-drive full of porn and wile away those endless spare hours wanking yourself insensible. Want to inject an element of psychological distress to proceedings? Simple. Hide the mouse! It’s Big Brother with hard ons… Defence team for convicted Jackson doctor take new tact and lodge appeal. Fresh claim that Conrad Murray purposefully ‘dosed’ wacko with Propofol overdose to ‘Protect the Children’ at core of new defence strategy. Judge offers to do Jacko style moonwalk and don single white glove promises to acquit death doc Murray if he double doses Joe Jackson senior and LaToya ASAP… Scottish Scientists have created the worlds’ healthiest sandwich, consisting of gluten free bread, rocket, lean turkey, cherries, vinegar and blue cheese. Now if they’d cover it in a thick layer of sausage meat and deep-fat fry it for 40 minutes, someone in Scotland might actually eat it. It’s something of a landmark: 17 year-old Justin Bieber has allegedly fathered a child. Before sprouting his own pubic hair. It certainly gives young people something to aspire to doesn’t it? …And ‘Confirmed Batchelor’ Hugh Grant 51, has knocked up his next-door-neighbour. He popped in to see the baby then jetted off to Germany for a date with a 21 year old singer-songwriter. He’s now known (in this house) as being the ‘Actor With The Wettest Penis in Showbiz’. Previous title holders G Clooney and G Butler. Good to see Ewan McGregor in those UNICEF ads urging the public to give a fiver to Africa. If only he could convince his friends Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt to bail out Greece. They’d have a whole country to raise their multinational clan of kids. Maybe they could grow olives and become philosophers instead of following the usual route: becoming just another bunch of dead-eyed, drug riddled, underachieving doomed celebrity offspring?
Why did the news channels choose to pixellate footage of John Terry calling Anton Ferdinand a black bastard? To protect us, or him? Obviously Terry DID call Ferdinand a BB; otherwise they wouldn’t have needed to pixelate his gurning spittle strewn mouth in the first place. News fail methinks. The truth is that footballers routinely swear and spit at other footballers because ‘the beautiful game’ is utterly bereft of dignity, nobility and sportsmanship. The only emotion football engenders is abject, unfocused hate aligned to shrill, teary hysterics. Player on player hate, player on same-team as player hate, wag on wag hate, fan on fan hate, father and son hate, husband on wife hate and spit-roast a glamour model hate. Basically, any insult will do when you’re on the pitch in the midst of ‘battle’. If you’re tall, short, ginger, and spotty, with a big nose and funny ears, or got a fat ugly old slag for a mother, somebody is sure to comment. The only thing that’d make me watch this rabble of spiteful retards with their stupid tattoos and expensive wrongheaded haircuts would be if they hired a panel of voice recognition experts to analyse every game and give us a word for word account of every-single on-pitch expletive uttered, shouted or screeched. Maybe then the players would get a tad more creative, they’d have to resort to utilizing arcane and obscure swearwords to throw the lip-readers off the scent… “Rooney just called Nevin a ‘flaccid, facile flibbertigibbet’ Nevin responds by challenging Rooney’s sexuality, branding him ‘a rotund, uncouth, pug-faced decrepit old nancy boy’. I’d watch it then. Cnuts United!"
So the BBC wanted Kylie Minogue to judge new singing competition: The Voice.
What next? Ozzy Osborne to give online elocution lessons? Silvio Berlosconi to present a 12-parter on Fidelity and Moral Rectitude? Michael Barrymore fronting a one-off on Colonic Irrigation? Boots the Chemists’ Here Come The Girls - winter ad campaign features a distressed, depressed, pale and thin young girl, clearly the worst for wear. She’s seen tearfully gubbing down a handful of Morning After pills in a bleak, drab and dreary vomit strewn back bedroom flat in Swindon on dark and rainy Christmas Day Morning. Grand Theft Auto V: The brand new gameplay scenario will be set in the present time, on a recession ravaged world where, instead of playing as the usual lone hood rising through the criminal ranks by killing sundry prostitutes and gangsters, you’ll play as a group-collective comprised of radical counter-revolutionary anti-capitalist Anarchists. Gamers avidly cyber-hack and ‘Actively Disinvest’ multi-national corporations and conglomerates, taking their obscene wealth and power and dispersing their ill-gained revenues equitably whilst simultaneously kidnapping all the billionaires and super rich. Players then get to torture their captives mercilessly until they give up their pin-numbers, sort-codes and Facebook passwords. Players then get to shoot their captives through their lolling heads with a good old-fashioned AK47. GTA V AVAILABLE 2012 FROM SONY- RRP £49.99 It’s a Gaming Revolution. A Virtual Revolution. Anyone fancy a cheap night out in Central London next week? Then why not crash-out in one of those allegedly empty tents pitched outside St Paul’s Cathedral? It’d certainly save on hotel fees. And you can pay for your camp bed by having your face painted. Maybe even get a few ‘white boy-dreadlock’ hairbraids done. I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a unicycle and juggle a couple of burning batons whilst seriously pissed off my face on 8 cans of Tenants Super with extra added lungfuls of dodgy Soap Bar smoked through an improvised bong made out of a riot shield an empty Innocent smoothie bottle and a Stabucks’ coffee cup. Maybe I’ll even get a Banksy tattoo done on my inner top lip with a Stanley Knife sterilised in warm piss and Echinacea. Ebay Quick sale: Gold Plated 9mm Handgun. One Owner. Never Fired. Caked Blood of 6,597960 Libyans on Handle. Will accept gold, oil, Yen, traveller’s cheques and Amazon Gift Vouchers as payment. Definitely NO Euros. Frankie Cocossa has that rare of gift: The gift of making women want to mother him. Yes, they want to mother him with a hot bath, scrub his ballbag with a nailbrush and get that stinking cowpat of a haircut sorted. “I’m going out to pull a Stunner”? I hope, by that, he means a riot cop with a Taser. Will Young criticises X Factor, saying it’s turned into a ‘soap opera’. Harsh words from a man whose version of the Doors classic Light My Fire was so insipid, Jim Morrisons’ spirit rose from his grave and flashed his ghost penis at a dead Mary Whitehouse, who promptly complained to God which got Jim a serious talking to, and an eternity banished to the fires of Hell. The old Lizard King finally got his wish. Light my fire! "A life unexamined, is a life not worth living"- Socrates 399 BC . "Yes, but why?"- Buckrates 13.52 Tuesday afternoon.
ALASHAPALOOD BROTHERS AND SISTERS
Coming soon: Nige's Guitar Bar. A Bar in every city featuring live music 24/7. A Bar that eschews plasma screen/Sky Sports in favour of regular guitarists playing solo, duo, combos. Any combination and any music styling on-show everyday & every-night. Run by musicians for musicians and anyone else who fancies a bit of live music too ....
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