"If I only knew the answer, I wouldn't be bothering you"

Evening all!

Are we all ready for Christmas then?
Well, I'm not. Due to my perilous financial situation I have been unable to buy any presents at all thus far. Nish. Nada. Zip.
This Friday sees my quarterly bonus turn up in my malnourished bank account, so Friday & Saturday will be a blur of last minute gift-getting. Excited? No. Scared? A tad.

So far I have received one potential CD cover for "Backlash" &, by crikey, it's very good. I hope you haven't all forgotten about that. I shall naturally be reminding you at regular intervals.
Whilst on about my new album, I find myself writing more songs than is good for me. Though I'm very taken with my latest effort. It's only partially written at this point but it contains one of my best lines ever. Of course you'll have to wait for it.

Now then, I have every intention of hosting the annual Flashy awards later in the week. And I'd like suggestions &/or ideas for how I can spice up this years ceremony. Last year I had that little kitten Charby co-hosting with me plus a red carpet for all the guests to show off their finery. Should I have a co-host this year? If so, who?
Also I would very much welcome any ideas you may have for a new award or two. Go on you know you want to.
I am having an extreme amount of trouble deciding on the winner of one particular award. It's even worse than last year's Hard-fi or Maximo Park conundrum. So I ask you, oh dear reader type person, is it acceptable to have joint winners in one of the most prestigious catogories?
Well, is it?

So I saw "Casino Royale" during the week. I thought it was very, very good. I also thought that Daniel Craig was an excellent Bond. I believe ST was talking about this the other day but I grew up on Roger Moore & Sean Connery, who I personally thought were ace. Both of 'em. I actually liked George Lazenby too, for what it's worth.
I was a huge Bond fan as a kid. My Dad would always take me to the flicks to see the films & they are very fond memories. In addition to that, the movies were always on the telly back then, before the days of videos & multi-channel TV.
From the age of about 16 onwards I pretty much gave up on 007. I have since seen a few of them since "A view to a kill" (surely the best Bond theme, no?) but I never thought much of either Timothy Dalton or Pierce Brosnan. Daniel Craig, however, struck me as a very believable James Bond. So praise to him.
I watched the film at home on a copied DVD. I really don't like to do that, the quality is usually pretty shitty & I've found it really has hampered my enjoyment of several films in the past. Needs must though & the net result is that I got to see the film I really wanted to see.
I humbly apologise to the film industry in general & I promise not to do it again (unless I have to).

Is it wrong of me to want to have some sort of ruck one evening just so I can title a post with "Last night I had a little altercation..."?

Can anybody possibly offer an explanation as to how Samuel L Jackson has just been touching my ear while I was in the bath?

FunnyDance has been in town for a few days. He's hung out here at Flash Towers for three evening's this last week, which has been quite smashing.

Anyway, I really haven't got much of note to say today but I wanted to show my face.
So let's have your thoughts on the Flashys.
What you waiting, what you waiting, what you waiting, what you waiting, what you waiting foooooo-ooor?

"She takes her clothes off, one by one..."

Greetings!
So I had a smashing night out with the guys on Friday. We had a couple of beers then an Indian, then some more beer & then we went to Urban Tiger; Northampton's only Lapdancing emporium.
Now lapdancing has been mentioned a couple of times in Blogland lately, so I thought I'd give you my views on the subject.
I like it.
Shocked? Of course not.
Now I do consider myself to be a fairly switched on 21st century sort of man, but I am indeed a man. And I'm a man who loves women. (Even though half of 'em are mentalists!) And I like looking at women, & when those women are scantily clad or naked, I enjoy looking at them even more. Strange? I do hope not.
Do I think the girls are being exploited? I don't think they are. I don't think it's the same ball game as street prostitution, where many girls work out of a great need or are even forced into it. I feel the lapdancers have made an informed choice. A choice that, I have to confess, would not be difficult for me to make were I a lady in possesion of the right "crudentials". I actually got chatting to one of the girls in a very normal manner. She was 23 & she drove from Lincoln (Some 60 or 70 miles) twice a week to work at Urban Tiger. She told me that she earns a reasonable amount of money which is helping to fund her gap year. She also told me that she loves being on the stage & doing her thing. She said it makes her feel good. Fair play to her.
I had a private dance whilst there, funded by TheStoryteller. I very much enjoyed the experience. I found it to be exciting & fun. Harmless fun.
Some of my mates had to go back home & lie about where they had been. They had my sympathy & understanding. I had similar issues with Temper Tantrum & it wouldn't be worth the inevitable shit-storm to mention it. So I'd lie, like they did. Of course, these days I don't have that kind of worry. My rather smashing girlfriend was pleased that I had gone out & enjoyed myself. It's so lovely not to be worrying about covering my tracks. It's the way it should be.

I did strange celebrity looky-likey thing.
Hugh Jackman-Good
Jeb Bush-Bad
Victoria Principal-What?



I have to be at work again at 1am (Don't ask) so I had a little spliff to help me have that rarest of beasts; an afternoon nap. The side effects of said smoke are that I seem to be waffling a bit.
So I'm just gonna bugger off the bed.

"We only want to get drunk"

This year my company are not having a christmas party. That sucks, eh?
So, tonight is going to be the closest I get to one. In just over half an hour, I shall be meeting Crisp Fiend down at 'spoons & shortly after that the Silver Fox will drive us over to Northampton where we will meet the other two members of the lab team; DelusionsOfGrandeur & AnotherForestFool. And our genial host, who is our rep from the company who supply all our process chemicals. He's a good old boy who I shall name The Storyteller.
Bless him, he takes us out every year for crimbo. Last year was bowling, the year before that dog racing.
The most wonderous thing about tonight is that, theoretically, I should need to part with very little of my own money. Thank crikey for that eh?

Tonight's itinery goes something like this; Pub, meal, lapdancing, club.
Nice!
I forsee myself getting royally bladdered.
That's what christmas do's are all about, no?

Let's 'ave it!

"I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!"

My blood is boiling.
What the fuck was I thinking all those years ago when I agreed to marry that vile, wretched bitch?

My son is ill at the moment, he suffers from Asthma. He hasn't been troubled by it for some time, but it's flared up pretty bad. His mother took him to the doctors this afternoon; he's been given some stronger medication & if that hasn't helped it settle down by the end of tonight then he may have to go into hospital.
I looked after him this morning at mine & though he's wheezing & coughing a lot, he remains in reasonably high spirits.

As my hideous ex-wife was telling me all that an hour or so ago, she also slotted in that because I smoke it's "willful neglect & abuse". Now, before I go any further, I must point out that I DO NOT smoke around The Boy. When he's at mine I smoke in my bedroom with the door firmly closed & the window open. My bedroom is strictly off-limits to The Boy for that very reason.
So; Willful neglect & abuse.
Naturally, I did not take that very well.
My words were along the lines of... How dare you say that to me? Shortly afterwards I hung up on her.

Unfortunately, there was some unfinished business. I rang her back, make the arrangements & then ended the conversation by warning her that I intend to seek legal advice because I do not want to deal with her anymore.

Of course, she wouldn't let it lie there. She phoned some minutes later saying that if I was to take that path it would mean my access to The Boy being greatly reduced & that I would be expected to explain to him why he wasn't seeing as much of me as he's used to. All without bad-mouthing her.

It's been left for now, but for a couple of shitty texts she has sent me.

The thing is this is not unusual behaviour for Temper Tantrum, I let so much go because I like a quiet life & have little stomach for a fight.
A couple of weeks ago she rang me out of the blue one evening & opened the exchange with "Hello Flash it's Temper Tantrum, you're going to have to start coming round here in the evening now & again so that I can go out".
What?
"You can, in theory, go out every night if you so desire while I'm stuck in & I can't afford a babysitter."
To be honest, if she had have asked me if I'd be willing to do that for her I may have begrudingly agreed. But she didn't ask, she demanded.
So I told her No. I am not her babysitter
"You're his father, you have a responsibility!"
Yes I do, and I feel I already fulfill that responsibility more than adequately.
Of course, this made me a selfish bastard.
Naturally.

Right now I am absolutely incandescent with burning rage. A rage that I have no outlet for.
My life is difficult enough at the moment, but I can deal with the bailiffs threatening me, I can cope with the excruiatingly dull dead end job that I have to do, I can handle the worry of not having bought a single Christmas present yet, I can just about manage to carrying on living on a pittance because my outgoings are greater than I earn & I can even deal with a representative of the magistrates court knocking on my door today to present me with a £430 fine from March 2004 that I (100% honestly) had no prior knowledge of.
I can deal with all those things because I do have it in my power to change all that (somehow!).

I cannot change the venomous attitude of the one person in my life that I really, really do wish I had never set eyes on.
And bearing in mind what I said in the last paragraph, I cannot afford a lawyer. So I really don't see a way out.
Should I kill her?

"Quite some time ago when I was younger..."

Evening all.

So, today I have been inspired by the wonderlicious Cat.
She's been reflecting on what she was up to 10 years ago.

That's what I'm going to do too, I'm also gonna go back 20 years too, because I'm old enough.

So Ten things from ten years ago...

1. I was working in the same bloody place that I'm working now. I was a quality auditor back then, with a brightish future. Pah.

2. I was in my first year of marriage to Temper Tantrum, & was probably reasonably happy.

3. I enjoyed a fantastic holiday in Gran Canaria, where some truly smashing people were met.

4. I discovered what live music was really all about; jumping about & getting sweaty to some raucous guitar music. Highlights included Oasis at Knebworth & The Manics in Manchester with Super Furry Animals & an then unknown Stereophonics supporting.

5. My favourite albums of the year included Everything must go by the Manics, 1977 by Ash, A maximum high by Shed Seven & Coming up by Suede. Though I was a year late, I also discovered The Bends by Radiohead.

6. I was extremely worried about Dave Gahan & feared that Depeche Mode would never release another record ever again.

7. My favourite film of the year was Star Trek: First Contact, which is still undoubtedly the finest of all the Trek films.

8. My beloved Leeds United lost the league cup final 3-0 to Aston Villa. Shortly after the final whistle my phone rang. I answered with the words "Fuck off, you big nosed bastard!". Luckily for me it was my Villa supporting mate on the line & not my mum.

9. I met Dream Girl for the first time.

10. I looked like this (with my smashing sister)



















20 years ago...

1. I left school with little in the way of qualifications (not because I wasn't intelligent enough but because I spent most of my school life larking about & acting the goat. Right DOJ?) & found myself working in a tiny, antiquated sports shop in Ossett for £27.30 a week.

2. I lost my virginity to Horny As Hell. Ah, happy days, the thrill of the new, etc...

3. I went on holiday to Skegness with Gentle Giant & his family. It was a hoot.Bizarrelyy, 3 different girls on 3 differentoccasionss told me that I looked like George Michael!

4. I went to what was only my 2nd gig ever. Erasure at Bradford Uni, where me & my chums were lucky enough to meet Vince & Andy before the show.

5. My favourite albums of the year included Depeche Mode's Black Celebration (quelle surprise!), Erasure's Wonderland, Scoundrel Days by A-ha, Please by Pet Shop Boys, Notorious by Duran Duran & The Queen is Dead by The Smiths.

6. I performed on stage for the only time with Irrelevance. A duo that involved me writing, recording & singing everything while the other bloke stood around (hmm, see a pattern there?).
I also made some of my first recordings which included a song called "Backlash".

7. Oh dear, I'm going to look pretty dull here but my favourite film was Star Trek IV: The voyage home. Sorry.

8. Leeds United could have been doing anything they bloody well liked & I wouldn't have cared. I had no interest in football at all 20 years ago.

9. I met Funny Dance for the first time.

10. And I looked like this... (with my chums, including the DOJ on the right there)

"A bunch of Belgian businessmen & a strange drinking game, oh god why?"

About a month ago, I was taking a little break from the "Studio", when, on my way to the shops, I accidentally trod on a pixie.
Yes, a pixie.
Sadly, it's wounds were too serious & the poor little blighter died shortly afterwards. I was mortified, though not half as mortified as his pixie mates who followed me home.
Once indoors they revealed themselves. (No, not like that you bloody perv!).
They told me that I had to pay for what I had done.
I explained that it had been an accident, that there was no malice on my part & if they wanted money then they had certainly come to the wrong place.
They then explained to me that their own sacred rituals demanded that when one of their clan is felled by one of the "big people", then the rest of the clan are expected to take instant revenge on the "big" assailant.
Sadly, their rituals didn't have a contingency plan of what to do in the event of the "big person" claiming it was an accident & being a "thoroughly lovely & charming man" (Their words, not mine).
Eventually a compromise was reached.
The usual punishment for killing a pixie is the severance of all one's digits.
So it was agreed that I would suffer a temporary "severance" of my fingers.
I was told to make a fist with each hand & then the pixies bound my hands up with some sort of high tensile cloth. Finally a large helping of pixie-dust was administered to each hand, rendering them totally immovable.

The Pixies returned this morning to remove my "hand-cages". And now my fingers are free!
So, after a month without them I can now...type!
Hurrah!

As some readers may recall, this time last year I was taking my first tentative steps in the bewitching French city of Lyon. I actually arrived there on November 20th & thus began my constantly surprising 12 months of travel.
November to March in Lyon.
May saw my unforgettable trip to see Hyde in New York City.
June meant a trip to Germany for the World Cup.
July brought a very chilled out long weekend in Amsterdam, Holland.
September brought me a couple of weeks in the Czech Republic, including a weekend in Prague.
And then to round of that 12 month period I spent another week away in another country I'd never previously visited.
On November 13th I got in a company vehicle & drove all the way to Belgium's 3rd largest city, Ghent.
My mission was very simple; one of our customers has their European headquarters in Ghent & I had to check through their stock received from my company to make sure that all the parts were labeled correctly. I was accompanied on this trip by a young fella who we shall call JustinNoTeeth, a lad in his early 20's who bears quite a resemblance to a certain Mr. Timberlake until he opens his mouth. Now, JustinNoTeeth is a pleasant enough chap but we have very little in common & he's not much of a conversationalist. This made for some pretty dull evenings, I'm afraid. Also, he doesn't drive, meaning I had to do all the driving (No mean feat with Pixie-bound hands, I tell thee!).
Still, it did give me the opportunity to see some more of the world on the company dollar. Hurrah for that! And Hurrah for the company having little choice but to put us in the finest hotel I have ever set foot in. Proper luxurious, result!

Ghent is a very pretty city.














Note: Pixie-bound hands concealed from public scorn!



Sadly, most of my exploration time came in the late afternoon/early evening period of the day which is why the photos are mostly a little dark.
These pictures were taken on the Wednesday of my week out there, which was far & away the best day.
Our work for the day was completed pretty early & had taken place at a warehouse some 20 miles north of Ghent. Finding the bloody place had been a chuffing nightmare thanks mostly to the bloody SatNav in the car.
In our efforts to find the warehouse we actually crossed the border into Holland, albeit briefly.
When discussing this with a very friendly Belgian chap who was helping us. He explained that many local folk made the 20 mile trip to the City of Terneuzen where they could legally purchase weed from the coffee-shop there.
Hmmm, a plan was hatched.
We drove the short distance to Terneuzen upon completion of our work, where we would buy some gear & proceed to have a couple of smokes prior to going out that evening in Ghent.
We arrived in Terneuzen & proceeded to have a walk round the centre.
Terneuzen is in a geographically odd part of Holland, in that it is completely isolated from the rest of the country & only has a border with Belgium, fact fans.
Thus, it had a strange feel to the place & I felt very much like an outsider. Regrettably, I did not have my camera with me or I would have posted some piccys.
Eventually, said coffee-shop was located. As we opened the door & the aroma hit our nostrils, my young companion had a very swift & astonishing change of heart. He pretty much legged it. Being that he was the only one of us to be carrying cash, I begrudgingly followed. (I didn't fancy explaining that away when the company received my credit card statement!).
He never really explained his sudden turnaround, though I know it's not any kind of anti-drug stance has he's quite partial to stuff much more potent than a spliff.
As Toyah once memorably said; It's a mystery.

We then returned to our hotel in Ghent. On getting back I announced that I was going to have a wander around with my camera for an hour or two, & that he was welcome to join me. Which he did. And that's when the photos were taken.
That evening we descended upon the Irish bar that was our local for the week, to watch the friendly between Holland & England. It turned out to be a good night culminating in a small bar recommended to us by our lovely waitress girl Kate (who's real name I never found out, but called her Kate on account of the frightening similarity between her & the heroine from Lost. She was most pleased with me when I mentioned it!) where they had Karaoke on. Yes!
Fuelled by several pints of Stella I was in fine form. I was even being a bit of a performer as well as a singer. Whilst doing Jet's "Are you gonna be my girl?" I even strutted up to a non-ugly local girl to deliver the line "you don't need no money with a face like that, do ya honey?". He hee.
I also did a storming romp through Arctic Monkey's "When the sun goes down" complete with authentic Yorkshire accent! I even got a request! I say request but it was actually more of a challenge. This Irish fella I'd been nattering with said "Aye, you're ok but I bet you couldn't do justice to "Through the barricades". Of course, I bloody could! Tony Hadley's got nothing on me matey! So I did & I did it more than justice, if I do say so myself. Eat your words Paddy!
Around 1-ish I tottered back to the splendour of my sumptuous hotel room.

On the Thursday we completed all our allotted work for the week by 2pm. So after a quick shower it was decided that we'd make maximum use of our free time & take the 40 minute drive to Brussels.
The drive in was notable for burning down a very long, twisty-turny tunnel which led us to emerge on the edge of Belgium's capital city.
Much like the previous day in Ghent, the exploration of Brussels took place in rapidly fading light. It was also a very brief visit as we were only there for 2 hours or so.
That said, we managed to cram a lot into those two hours. We saw the Royal Palace, the "Old England" building, what appeared to be the equivalent of Oxford Street & several other sights.




























Nothing compared to the utterly astounding Grand Place.
The architecture was absolutely magnificent. A cobbled open square surrounded on all four sides by some of the most spectacular buildings I've ever seen. The second photo here shows a building so dark & spooky looking it must have been used in at least one Tim Burton film.
































This is the jaw-dropping Town Hall of Brussels, the constraints of the square made it impossible for me to fit the whole thing into shot. It's giant tower can be seen rising up to the clouds in the first Brussels picture.
The visit to Brussels was worthwhile just to see Grand Place.
Marvelous, bloody marvelous.

It was then time to return to Ghent for an early night in preparation for long drive back to Crapsville. Which incidentally, seems even crappier after every one of these beautiful places I visit.
So that was Belgium. The sixth country I visited in my twelve months of travel.

Back home & back into the studio...

The Album that won't record itself is coming along. I've made a bit of a discovery on the software I use that is proving to be a bit of a double-edged sword. Without going into detail I've found out how to do some extra stuff that can only have a positive effect on the recordings. The problem being that it's eating into my time.
I'm still hoping to make my tentative release date of January 29th but it will be touch & go.
I will be loathe to put the date back but I'd rather that than rush ahead with something that wasn't quite finished.
At present there are 4 tracks complete & a further 3 well underway. In terms of songs, I've got more than enough & I'm finding, just as I did during the recording of "Confessions of an idiot", that new songs & ideas are coming thick & fast.
Speaking of "Confessions...", I have an idea that I have been patiently sitting on ever since it's release.
I hereby cordially invite all & sundry to play a part in the new album.
It seems to me that most of us bloggy types have some creative leanings, so I'd like to offer the opportunity to do the artwork for the new album to anybody & everybody who reads this. Honestly, anyone can have a go! I am also asking some "real life" people to join in.
I really love the idea of getting other people's input on this & I also love the prospect of having several different sleeve designs to choose from.
I would be honoured & extremely gratified if you, the reader, would take part.
There are only 3 stipulations;
Please submit your artwork in the actual size of a CD insert.
Please keep it within the realms of decency & good taste.
Please ensure it features the name of the "band", which is Gnu Cnu & the name of the album, which is...(drumroll)
"Backlash".

I sincerely hope this proves to be a popular idea & I'm giddy with anticipation at the prospective creations I may see.
There is no rush, though I'd hope to make a final decision by mid-January.

Right, after all that it's about time I caught up with my fellow bloggers out there. Bloglines is telling me I only have 676 unread posts.
Doddle!