the great scouse novel

King Kenny got his Dirk Kuyt

2012-01-28T16:38:00.000Z

There was some beaut manc TV channel doing research on Scousers v the mancs.

They asked some manc "What do you think of Scousers?" Manc in bad 80's leather bikers jacket, bleached De Nimes shitstoppers and greasy wig goes "I just hate Scousers generally."

Then they cut to the streets of The LIV and fronted some auld fella with the reverse Q. The auld Scouse stick just goes "There is no rivalry, we're just better dan yez," and continues his sortie up the road. Hip.

Fucking get in!

Thats the pair of the manc gobshites knocked out of 2 competitions in 3 days.

And by the way, my hair is excellent. I pity the man with the straight hair, for he has no volume. Straight hair is mute and gelling it up is a redner.

2012-01-27T12:08:00.002Z

mystery

2012-01-26T07:10:00.000Z

And are you hip to the 'Saigon Triangle'?

Its an area of South East Asia, close to The Mekong Delta, where all common sense suddenly disappears. Its as if good manners, public decency and intellect just "poof" drop off the edge of human consciousness.

As Manilow B put it in his song about that other famous triangle..."...don't go too near."

big ants

2012-01-25T09:28:00.000Z

Sometimes we open our email.

Imagine being the bellend who designs junk mail and shit that gets sent to us. Can you imagine thinking that thats what work is? That that is an existence/employment to be respected?

Being that bellend geek who sends shite unto us.

If anyone knows who they are then tune me in and I'll blip'em. Clean out. And I want a personal pow-wow.

*****

Some taxi driver had a pop at me the other day. It was comic central as he flipped his boot as if he had a shotgun in it. I'll tune yez all into this scene as soon as I leave it.

The human race really, really needs to stop breeding.

Just have some fun. Stop fucking breeding. Its quite simple yer selfish twats.

book review: see below

2012-01-24T15:10:00.000Z

Yakety Yak

moonies

2012-01-22T13:18:00.000Z

Happy New Year to all youz Far-Easterners and werewolves out der.

Ders a party in town. A big one. Loads of cats dressed up like dragons all a-banging and a-clanking. Burning faux spinach on the pavements. Necking cans. Flying golden stars. Woo-ing over fireworks.

It has nothing to do with me.

I've voyeured everything in this culture. One night under fairy lights doesn't make it Paris.

Or even Blackpool.

I loathe this city. I sometimes hook onto freak tourists for a few mo's for a gab. They are all non-plused about the turn-off they've just pulled.

I'm hip.

As is the Moon.

The moon doesn't need a motorbike.

book review : No Angel by Jay Dobyns

2012-01-20T01:09:00.001Z

Mata Hari Krishna

2012-01-18T02:48:00.000Z

Gosh!

What what.

Isn't it?

Yar.

Surveillance these days is galore. Fools are spying on some other saps via facebook, arsewipe or twatter. What these people fail to realise is that if you go looking for other peoples shit...you're only gonna find yer own.

All that energy wasted just to revisit what you had for dinner last night.

I had a plate of bucatini with vegetables in a passata. I was sure of that. I had no requirement to go checking.

Self-confident, cocky, boss, fuckin' Scouse Legend.

Heres another chance for yez to view me C.V....

The very epitome of vegetarian, rive gauche cool.

A playboy of the champagne anarchist set.

At ease with drumstick or paintbrush.

Muscular, wild and free.

References: Available for you to write yer own.

shiva (wing man)

2012-01-16T16:26:00.000Z

Scally weed

Twigs n seed

Poppin'?

Don't know abar youz lot but I'm a far-out cosmic spirit, just kickin' back and momentarily experiencing a quite excellent physical form.

Mekong Delta snaps

2012-01-07T22:34:00.000Z

This is the main river-y part. The floating shacks are 'fish farms'.

Delta kidders.

The ajummas huge sun-visor hat exquisitley profiled here, and between her and herr ajoshi you can see another ajoshi who arrived with his annoying family 30 minutes late and then proceeded to scowl and smoke skinny fags all day.

Muy turista.

This kind of thing in the Delta innit.

Little streams n shit everywhere.

bullshit united

2012-01-06T14:55:00.000Z

Heres a sensitive flower who abhors the 'N' word.

the struggle

2012-01-06T13:58:00.000Z

I write around the web...

and so-far the reviews have been 'just terrific'...

'cos Im dead fucking important.

And yer damned right I know my way around a tuk-tuk rank.

Never get in a tuk-tuk thats driven by anyone who comes from a country beginning with the letter 'I'.

I wouldn't normally tell you all this but its too hard not to.

*****

Im a realhead temporarily dwelling in a realm of naiive amateurs and stiffs. I've met every single type of tefl teacher abar 5 times over now. Nothing gets new except the bottom line on my bank balance.

Found a new gym the other day and bouldered my way out of it, after 2 hours of be-littling the free weights, to find a pub doing fairly decent Czech style gargle. I plotted up, got talking to some English fella. He was the type of expat who first of all wants to tell you that he's different cos he 'met his Vietnamese wife in England'.

'Beaut', thinks I more miles on the clockishly than Polo M.

It doesnt really matter. I found teaching the English to the Foreigners to be a good way to travel around bits of the world and so to live in different cuntries and all that goes along with that. But when you've done the whole scene and you know that you can walk into any gig and boss the set it loses its mistique.

And thats why Im going back to Tipton to work on a production line making flash executive chairs for multi-millionaire bankers.

But they're all gonna be laced with fart cushions.

stitched up by The Fergusson Association

2012-01-04T07:11:00.002Z

Liverpool statement:
It is our strongly held conviction that the Football Association and the panel it selected constructed a highly subjective case against Luis Suarez based on an accusation that was ultimately unsubstantiated. The FA and the panel chose to consistently accept and embrace arguments leading to a set of conclusions that found Mr Suarez to "probably" be guilty, while in the same manner deciding to completely dismiss the testimony that countered their overall suppositions.
Mr Evra was deemed to be credible in spite of admitting that he himself used insulting and threatening words towards Luis and that his initial charge as to the word used was somehow a mistake. The facts in this case were that an accusation was made, a rebuttal was given and there was video of the match. The remaining facts came from testimony of people who did not corroborate any accusation made by Mr Evra.
In its determination to prove its conclusions to the public through a subjective 115-page document, the FA panel has damaged the reputation of one the Premier League's best players, deciding he should be punished and banned for perhaps a quarter of a season. This case has also provided a template in which a club's rival can bring about a significant ban for a player without anything beyond an accusation.
Nevertheless, there are ultimately larger issues than whether or not Luis Suarez has been treated fairly by the Football Association in this matter. There are important points we want to make that overshadow what has occurred during the past two months.English football has led the world in welcoming all nationalities into its Premier League, and Liverpool Football Club has been a leader in taking a progressive stance on issues of race. The Luis Suarez case has to end so that the Premier League, the Football Association and the club can continue the progress that has been made and not risk a perception that would diminish our commitment on these issues.
Liverpool have supported Luis Suarez because we fundamentally do not believe that Luis did engage in a racist act. Notably, his actions on and off the pitch with his team-mates and in the community have demonstrated his belief that all athletes can play together and that the colour of a person's skin is irrelevant. It is time to put the Luis Suarez matter to rest and for all of us to work to stamp out racism in every form.It is for this reason we will not appeal the eight-game suspension of Luis Suarez.
Luis Suarez statement:
I would like to thank everyone for the help and support I have received. Thank you to my family, my friends and everybody at LFC. I understood more than ever what 'You'll Never Walk Alone' means. I was born and raised learning what respect, manners and sacrifice mean. Never, I repeat, never, have I had any racial problem with a team mate who was of a different race or colour to mine. I am very upset by the things which have been said during the last few weeks about me, all of them being far from the truth. Above all, I'm very upset at feeling so powerless while being accused of something which I did not, nor would not, ever do.

book review : An Evil Crading by Brian Keenan

2011-12-30T07:52:00.000Z

An Englishman, an Irishman and an Islamic Jihadist walk into a pub...

chinese chess

2011-12-28T12:57:00.000Z

Im a great player of Xiangqui.

Had a boss game last night. Defended with me elephants, launched me catapults, got me chariots motoring and then when it looked like I was gonna get beat I threw the board on the deck.

So officially I cant be said to have lost.

*****

The year is almost over. Started for me supping a cup of bubbles on a balcony in The Elephant in dat London (dswatpl). Ending in Ho-Chers where if I had a balcony I might throw myself off it. Spent a lot of the year in The Pool of Life having a refreshing break from teaching The English to The Foreigners.

Next year Im going to Inders then Im going back to civilised Europe to finish my 3rd book. But I'll be sure not to give it to this tit to review...

Destination: the remainders bin.

The (comparitively) rich world is full of beauts who make a lot of noise but produce nothing of worth. The reason why the fool above and twats like cowell and m*d*n*l*s get followers is cos most people seek out stupidity and convenience. All just part of the machine of idiocy. Do you really want these tits to be yer spark plugs?

(by the way the above pictured whopper is an irrelevance, just thought that we might all have a quick buzz off the geeks mugshot).

*****

Im surrounded by geeks n nerds in dee office. I teach at the (presumed) highest level in tefl so my company employs all deez cats with teaching degrees n dat who all claim to be beautiful hippy buddhists. They are generally a crew of well-meaning yet naiive shitehawks. I've been around the block 10 times doing press-ups...and never met any fucker who has ever gone through with the promise to 'help the orphans'. Its all me arse; its bums on seats and keep the director rich. If yer in it you know dat, and if yer don't know dat yer soon out.

*****

Hey, lets have a disco...

sign here...

2011-12-24T23:36:00.002Z

https://submissions.epetitions.direct.gov.uk/petitions/18914

Geldof

2011-12-23T16:31:00.000Z

Its Christmas Time,
And theres no need to be afraid,
Unless of course you are a turkey.

Or a Brussels sprout.

I recall an evening in the fuckin boozer with Scouse as Yer Like watching a footy game. Some student in front of us had the worlds most pathetic pony tail going on. Scouse remarked "Look at this blert with a Brussels sprout plonked on the back of his head." It was funny.

When ye get ripped by a Scouser yez wanna be proud of yerself. It's something to tune yer future generations into, like getting nutmegged by Diego Maradona.

Thats why I have to rock around the globe giving people shit...Im fucking self-less with the abuse I give out. Sure to be medalled-up by The UN for me charitable work. Have the saps queueing up like at some holy womans feet just to get told "Nah, lose the earing", "Shit tattoo that kid", or even steal The Cafs classic "What are they on yer feet? Jesus, I wouldn't put them on a tinkers dog."

Im not expecting any chrimbo presents this year.

book review: A Picturebook4adults by Erique Bravo

2011-12-22T23:07:00.000Z

The undergrounds latest classic (whatever that means).

This book is fucking cool. Its about reading and writing and speeding and all three things combine to conspire so that you find the holy grail of literature and hep philosophy.

The book isn't for sale so email Bravo direct at ... culturebook@yahoo.com ... for a pdf copy. And tell him I sent you, and thats a bit of cheese off.

hot, fresh, new talent

2011-12-22T07:01:00.000Z

I've just started a new band...SexPest.

Well when I say band, theres actually only me in it.

Musically its a kind of beat box thing, only with the beat element replaced by a quantity of panting, growling, howling, slobbering, whistling and "Cworrrr-ing".

I'll be doing a few strategically sited guerrilla gigs over the coming weeks at venues such as close to the entrance of women's public toilets and around female fitting rooms in department stores.

It looks like I could be a major act on next summers fezzy circuit.

black is black

2011-12-21T12:43:00.002Z

Hey

Take a sip of the night,

You'll find friends here.

People like you who wanna travel around to strange places.

Folks who just wanna savour a break from the humdrum.

So,

Whadaya say?

Special Brew.

4 cans for £5.99.

*****

Its in the interest of people who make a stand against racism for racism to exist (likewise homophobia etc). Cos if they admited that racism doesnt exist, they'd be out of a job. Turkeys dont vote for Chrimbo as the saying goes. Am I a racist? I take the piss out of all types of people. Thats what all types of people are there for. The anti-racist campaigner could be viewed as the ultimate racist because they want everyone to be the same, to be like them. A race of dry, humourless stiffs, regardless of anyones colour.

My generation of Scousers and those that have since followed grew up subject to the bigotry of the rich English establishment, they never wanted us to have, or thought we deserved, a chance in life. This establishment are the offspring of the people who enslaved and ripped-off Africa, Asia and The Americas, the proceeds of these 'exploits' are the reason today that they continue to be the establishment. But now they use the mainstream media, that they own, to flog hardline anti-racist stances to us. They promote themselves as setting an example against all bigotry whilst letting their mates in business and finance continue to enslave the people of the world, regardless of anyones colour.

What a fucking stitch-up.

Three letters....SIR... Alex Fergusson.

*****

Heres The Army...

*****

I handed my notice in the other day. My reason..."motorbikes and stupidity". I'll lay a full run down n Ho-Chers on yez after I've left.

Now piss-off for yer last minute Winter Solstice shopping.

silly little man

2011-12-21T03:22:00.000Z

Looking at the photos I can say that I haven't seen this many tear stained cheeks, this much mass grief and this much fear for the future of mankind emanating from The Korean Peninsular...since my one-off visit to a Busan Poetry Plus event.

Kim Jong Il...he was more of a 'popular Korea blogger', than all the other 'popular Korea bloggers' put together.

And that is quite an achievement.

During my time in The Korea I met The Dear Leader many times. For there is a bit of him in every ajoshi. Whether you find him vomiting copiously on the pavement, drunkenly attempting to sing and dance, marching around the mountains with a transistor radio blurring out 'trot', mailing a finger or two to Japan or sucking his teeth down your ear-hole on the subway; all Korean men have an aspect of the 'angry little man' about them. An aspect usually found between the top of the thighs by the way.

But what was it about K J I that made him different and stood him apart from all the other ajoshi's? Was it his terrible hair...erm no. What about his fashion sense...nope. Well could it have been his foul kimchi fumed breath...not really. No, indeed they're all the same.

Kim Jong Il...King of The Ajoshi's...1942-2011

stu n fro

2011-12-18T18:49:00.001Z

Weavers of bullrushes...

The more I live the more I'm hep to the fakt yo dat youz dont wanaa go chuckee-ing all yer eggs in the one basket. Cos yez don't wanna be a basket case.

Get me?

Some beings go 'travelling'. I go 'living'.

Hope dats cleared it up for yez.

*****

Of course my contemporary challenge is to grow my wig as big as poss before it gets borderline silly. Then I'll invent a visa stamp plus tax for all dose who want a hand-run through it. Lonely Planet dat all dee amateurs. Complimentary 1.5 litre of eau...natural, glued to yer fuckin hands.

Yes, my bouffant au luxure has its own flag that represents an abhorance of conformity, it flies high, wide and handsome and its listening to 'Scorpio' by G.Master F. and The Furious F.

I'm inviting a selection of VIP's to my Christmas-hair-do this year: Vince Hillare, George Berry, The Real Thing, The RealHeads and anyone who digs a curly Scouse pyab in their chrimbo pudding.

Calm down girls...its only a pyab.

book review : The Vulture by Gil Scott Heron

2011-12-16T12:51:00.000Z

starship

2011-12-11T17:15:00.000Z

"Knock knock".

"Whos der?"

"Fuckin' no-one. Dey've all gone out on a protest march. So lets rob der fuckin' 'ouses."

*****

The plazee faced Prime Sinister of the auld colonial power is a massive tit. One of his bumchums came out with a quote like, "Its terrible that kidders today only look up to x-factor nobheads and footballers and not people who worked to be successful."

All of the so-called 'cabinet' were born millionaires.

One day a real rain will come and wash all the scum off the streets.

We are that cloud ... we are the people. We are the ones to make a better day so lets start beheading the cunts.

*****

If only we had a royal family who followed through with their divine right to protect the people.

What a fucking carve-up.

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland is lingering behind museum glass, a brief annotation in the global conveyor belt life-style of C21.

With its last breaths...The Isles must wake up and realise that the chance of a Class-War based revoltion has still not quite yet passed by.

Create and defend your own media outlets.
Send the foot soldiers out to wreck and loot tax dodging capitalists.
May the musicians and artists inspire.
Farm the land as one.
Leave the past behind ... in the shelf...labeled 'shirts'.

We built this country on our own cool imagination.

cunts are still running the world

2011-12-07T12:27:00.000Z

Kingdoms may rise

Kingdoms may fall

Nations refuse to hear Gods call

But the search for a manc who isn't gay goes on forever...

*****

Some squat Canadian kidder rocked up to the co. this week. I took him aside to tell him how to behave and to blag a bifter off him. Kidder has been in town for 2 months and is worried cos after a 3 stretch in Taiwan he aint feeling the yellow fever at all here. I said...

"Well kid, yer carrying a pot belly that just makes the chicks hungry for fried dead animals with bread and sauce. Yer as short as a dwarf la', and wid dat wig yer may as well be cleaning pans with yer fucking head."

Im nice like dat.

Don't cheat the people...to paraphrase the great metalist filosofer, Smalls, Derek...he wrote dis.

*****

Theres a black girl from SanFran in the co. She has a terrible cough. I think it would be awfully offensive if I, thegreatscousenovelist, tried to tell a joke and she coughed over it. Cos shes black and black girls dont like comedy.

But the reviews for my joke have been 'just terrific' so-far.

*****

I know a little place here amid the shite and stupidity, that knocks out the pilsner urquell aka the prazdroj; they also do a line in Slovak wine. And it is Slovak not Slovakian. Martin Sktrel is a Slovak. Get it right hipsters. Be polite. European sofisticats like me...know dis shite. In talks with the Bohemian Girl last night we've decided that we may go back there in the future is unwritten to translate the complete works of myself into Czech.

To paraphrase Ice Cube n dat...if it aint Scouse it aint me...

-82-

2011-12-05T13:43:00.000Z

Socrates wore the gold shirt like a second skin. Only with a bit of breathing space; unlike all the fat middle-aged fellas who probably support Chelski or Arsenal and who insist upon donning Brazil shirts when out at the local beer garden.

Apparently Socrates drank and smoked like a fucking navvy. Good on the boy. But lets not dwell on mourning here.

Instead, lets celebrate someone who is a wonderful gift to the game of futbol.

Me.

Although my career with the round ball has still yet to peak I've scored thousands of fantastic goals, got people sent-off, been sent-off, caused 10 man brawls, managed at international level, got a cardboard box full of huge broken trophies and brought moments of genius with my set-piece routines of abusing referees.

deep fried in west derby

2011-12-03T18:13:00.000Z

Most of the people who live in manchester are gay.

Nothing wrong with being gay.

Bare with me...it'll get even more silly.

'Silly' is my favourite word. But I dont use it regularly enough. In this city one finds oneself saying 'cock', 'nobhead', 'arsewipe' and 'peasant from the delta who obviously isn't sophisticated enough for city living', with metronomic regularity.

Yes, almost as regularly as some silly people re-hash the story of babopalooza in Busangeles. Its one of dem...

Look ajoshi's, it was shite. If it had been what youz make it out to have been then youz'd all have been lashed out the country at the time.

Button it. It was shite.

I heard that some other comedians served up warm, fresh human piss to a Korean gangster. So get over yerselves.

*****

It was me sisters b'day today so I called her. She couldn't wait to jib me off the line cos her husband had just come back from the chippy.

Can't argue with dat. We know and love our own.

*****

Yours,
curry, rice n chips halfnhalf
Mine,
likewise with a can of irn bru and a portion of scallops.

Plenty of salt n vinegar.

Falling off the map

2011-12-01T12:37:00.000Z

"Are we there yet?" youz ask, clutching a swinging sick bag in the booster seat of an auld Austin Allegro.

"No. Because you don't know where you are going," I reply cosmically. "Yet."

Its Dec. one and the heat is the same as it ever is. I hate this city, its laying the drabs on me. Colour is excluded. Peace and quiet are not words in the language. But I've lived in many a place, and am accutely hep to finding a way through all temporary situations of jargraphy.

When I was a youth, people who were 'well tavelled' were envied. Even a kidder who'd been The Dam on a 'smokers weekend' bus had licks.

Ive taken that concept far. I don't believe that anything can freak me out now. More likely to disgust me. I've taken The TAZ to some pyar rive gauche locales. Theres nothing to chat about over candles, vin rouge n crudites. It wouldn't be polite. Im a Scouse Scally Hippy. I always will be.

The party MUST go on.

one outre, all outre

2011-11-29T14:11:00.000Z

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeell Doggie!

Twistin' the night away here in The TAZ.

Charlie Organaire settin' de rotations.

A million miles from agricultural or, even worse, industrial labour.

While the spread-sheeters and fatsos who spend their bleak durations wedged into a shirt, tie and desk combo aboard the gravy train formally known as 'The British Public Service Sector' go on strike tomoz...

...I'll be pouffing up me 'fro n frontin' up a few creative writing lectures....whilst pondering ...Sri Lanka nebo Kerala?

Focus group dat shit yer beauts. Marx K. on flexi-time...that must be a riveting fucking read. 30 grand.

book review : Welcome To Hell

2011-11-26T16:57:00.000Z

Who dunnit?

Just a couple of things...

2011-11-26T16:53:00.000Z

I collected notebooks from a class. One of the boys had written 'manchester united be champions' on the 1st page. So I stuck a fucking big picture of Anfield over it. He cried when I gave it back to him.

Told.

Or taught, rather.

No-one is plucking more Green Tea for teaching than me in this town. Im like Percy fucking Thrower. An expert horticulturist.

Rock into the class, tell em to put their boring books away and proceed to set up projects through which they teach each other. PM me for a load of abuse.

Lets face it. I've been all over the place in this game for a while.

*****

Picked up 3 cans of Beer Lao today. For Asian gargle its probably the best of a bad lot. Asian beer is like Asian music. Shite. And although the Beer Lao isnt as bad as The sHite or Gass, the Changover or the overly sharp Jap brews...youz don't wanna be caught out as the nob wearing the T-shirt.

Cos if youz go wearing a T-shirt of Beer Lao...

Yez aint gonna make it with anyone anyhow...

Well, maybe with a hairy Israeli chick on the backpacker circuit. But dats your business.

Myself and The Bohemian Girl prefer a long lunch over a table filled with a home-made mezze...

Globaly authentique...en La TAZ.

book review : Off the rails in Phonm Pehn

2011-11-24T12:54:00.000Z

slip jig vs. jarg wig

2011-11-24T12:50:00.000Z

Me spa in the office is a chubby lad from small town Kansas.

Hes married a Vietnamese chick off the net and has so condemned himself to a long stretch here cos Uncle Sam aint welcoming this particular tired n weak. He did have a crack in the Ukraine previously like but cupid didn't strike there.

Hes a good lad and shares my abhorance of all those who declare themselves to be an authority figure. I prefer to lie in wait for the perfect mo before giving Opertaion Boss Take-Down the go ahead...but this kidder is bang on it all heave-ho.

I undermine the so-called authority by drip feeding them the truth about how shite they are before the full slap strikes. My 'Bro' doh steps right up to the oche and chucks straight at the bull.

Of course we are both both feared and hated in the dump.

I make a fool of so-called authority figures by saying little and sowing seeds of self-doubt in their tiny minds. He runs over em in his Great Plains plough.

As I said to everyone when we demanded to take over the only window desks in the entire dump ... "We are flying this fucking craft. Now I'll give yez 5 to sort us hot towels and get us a few packets of Big D and throw a Bergman flick on."

*****

Some tit rocks over to the cockpit today and pulls the most plazee forced smile in the world and goes to shake my 'Bros' hand and wish him happy thanksgiving. WTF?

"What are you being thankfull for?" I asked this fat yank stiff with a terrible wig and a wife n kid here?

"Cos we got rid of the Brits." He attempted smart-arsedly con kiddy smile.

"Well youz've done a fucking good job since 'aven't yez."

Again ... just drip feeding who and what is boss.

The whopper puts so many letters after his name that hes a train station in Anglesey. And aboout as interesting as too.

I sliced the baguette open and them me 'Bro' filled it...with one of the most forthright declarations of 'you are crap' Ive ever seen done face-to-face.

Deadly. Yez had to be there.

I dont expect to last there long. Which is fine by me. Im tired of teaching non- realhead speakers.

Get me?

*****

Outside The TAZ the 3rd space never stops. Its shit noise, stupidity and cacophony from 5 in the a.m. So I pick up my tin whistle and charm myself unto the day.

I am the 1%

2011-11-21T13:47:00.000Z

I am amongst the 1% of people upon this oblate spheroid who are actually able to and/or willing to think and act for themselves.

Thats the key to the matter.

No point in declaring capitalism to be a load of unjust shite if you spend yer days glued to a car seat and scoffing the flesh of murdered animals. Sorry but I can find no symapthy for the plight of the general p. They bring their shit sketches upon themselves.

This occupy giggle aint a bad statement in a student union 'Lets have a sit-in in the Deans office' kind of way. Youz know, its a bit gay. But it works as a spectacle. Its a tourist attraction.

None of dem would be plotted up outside a church in L13 doh. Be sure of dat. And Im sure St Paul was a bit of a Jew so dats probably why they built the cathedral in the City in the first place. "Money makes money", n' dat to quote an accquaintance who was murdered in the Swan last year.

And if they weren't a bunch of middle class media studies undergraduates then the beef would've well steamed in on dem by now.

All Im layin on yez is dat I am the 1% and I fucking hate camping.

Let alone urban camping.

Mind youz, wid Glasto now finished I wouldn't be surprised to hear of a few scouse kidders rockin down der with 4 Stella in a rucksack and a reprise of the auld "Tommy. Tommy are you in der la'?" tapping on de tent door routine.

And I noticed Scouse As was 'out of the office' according to his email for a few days last week.

Dalglish la'

2011-11-18T13:18:00.001Z

I am the son

And the heir

Of a Scouseness that is criminaly vulgar

I am de sun n hair n dat kid. Ye wha?

For all the kopites

*****

I'll tell yez what. That Patrick Evra is a cunt. With the backing of the hard-shoulder shitting knight of the realm he's decided to act like a kindy kid who cant sit next to the girl he likes. Fuckin' poofter.

Ive given out and taken on footy pitches all over the world. Its meant to be a mans game. Even got followed around the pitch by a black lad once who threatened to break me legs next time I got the ball bang in front of the ref. He was picking on the star skinny white boy. Arsed? No. Picked it up in the centre circle, went straight at and around him and played the striker in to slot home. The black lad then said "Well in lad." And dats how it is. Dats de game. Evra is a cunt. Hes a black, manc, cunt. Fakts. And Im a white, Scouse, legend.

*****

Of course Ive never been nob enough to try and claim ownership over an animal. But I share The TAZ at the mo with loads of really hep gekos. The little buggers are a buzz and even give me a fright sometime when I go for a slice of white n 2 of em are already feasting on it. They usually eat the ants and mozzys. But I love em. Theres always 4 or 5 of em glued to the wall or scurrying off on some tickle or other. The albini ones are a pyar freak out. As are the albino Viet Cong.

There are many fucked up n ghastly sights galore. Its all thanks to the USA, youz know dem democrats who dig freedom. And they really want us all to be free so if we dare to disagree with their concept of freedom den dey blow you up or drop dioxins n agent orange on yez.

I think its typical of the USA's respect for foreigners that they refuse to help out the thousands of people in SE Asia who were brutally mamed and born freaks due to their fucking 'anti communist wars.'

I dont really help them myself bar the odd $5 hand-out in the street. But its still $5 more than them USA/FBI/CIA whatever cunts give them, and I didnt even do it to 'em.

Get me?

Bomb the fucking White House.

There aint no need for yez...

charlie and the coca leaf factory

2011-11-16T13:03:00.002Z

jing,ching kajingle....

Enter L'hipster U unto blog. Page fuckin centre.

Bosses his way past the tins of beans and loaves of toasty bread, chucks a few sherbet dib-dabs in his pocket, flicks a flump at the £4.50 an hour and lays this here literature on the top shelf.

Its approaching teachers day here in 25cc land and the reviews for my work have so-far been just terrific. Envelopes to shame Cloughy and 'Onest 'Arry Redknapp, paisley cravattes and sketch books...de kidders know me.

If I was cloned all other teachers would immediately be jibbed off. But I learned all about sweating charity from Mr U. in the boss take-down gym in Kenny and so I allow a few backpackers, sap year whoppers and alcoholic sexpats to do the shit low-paid gigs.

Meanwhile, I bank £2G a month...in the fucking 3rd space. Rattle, rattle, FaKEhipPy jewelry, FaKEhiPpY jewelry.

My philosophy is simple...if these fucking peasants wanna fill their own environ with honda hairdryers and pollution then Im filling my pockets with their fucking lemon balm. They pile up at the cross roads...I pile up the doc leaves.

*****

Went to a Vietnamese wedding the other day. Really camp in a jarg kind of way. Descended into a load of local teds doing bad karaoke.

Why do all Asians think they can sing? Name me one decent band or song to ever come out of Asia. Even the stuff thats good and a bit alt/ug is shite. They just cant do it. If yez have all got regimented haircuts and clobber + no decent persians = dont even bother trying to do any music.

They can't gargle either.

Sexy looking chicks and warcraft. Lets leave it that shall we.

*****

Some BogMan wandering around the office all week trying to hype 'a party in the jungle next weekend.'

Tit.

'Yeah we're all meeting up at go-go bar and going up there'.

Tits.

Id love it if a load of 3rd world kidders rocked over to Athlone, Meath or wherever and started on the rice wine and got to wrecking the sweet green leaves and grass of Erins Isle.

Cultural Imperialism its called.

As is the global promotion of the English lingo.

Serves me well and I do it well.

Exeunt L'hipster U. to even more just terrific reviews.

book review : Bliss to be alive. The collected writings of Gavin Hills

2011-11-15T23:59:00.001Z

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, but to be young was very heaven!

scouser tommy

2011-11-11T12:58:00.001Z

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury...

I stand accused...

Not of love in the 3rd degree.

but a 4some with de bananarama girls...Id still consider it.

Guilty.

But I stand accused of being a full-on Scouse Internationalist who lives up to his principles.

Do you think The Poor Scouser Tommy got shot by that ald nazi gun for call centres? For camoron and his toffs cutting off all hope from the needy.

No, did he fuck.

And when the battle it started the next morning, under the Arabian Sun, he wasn't thinkin' "Glad Im here so a load of lazy faux-ho's can sign on forever whilst wandering around Lark Lame pretending to be pooets."

Or was he?

Get yer ouija boards out n let me know on dat tickle.

This is for all dose who resepct their own freedom, who enjoy it and who don't go around ripping others off on the back of it. Its for the people who stood up.

For without dem...there would be a load of badly dressed and shize couiffered herrs n fraus doin' dis gig instead of us.

And das wud be bad.

Almost as bad as dis video. Must get back in de lab.

half man half moped

2011-11-07T13:08:00.001Z

Just giz some psychadelic 5 string chops over the amen drum break and I'll free base yer sweds

realheads

Let me tell yez now

Confrontation its me v 4 million motorbikes. And upon dem motorbikes no fucker is glued in to any nasty riddim n ting. Dem motorbike man is goin nowhere bahhhhhhhhhh but the abatoir.

Smack em down drop kick em, just flick em down wid me pijin.
Stand em back up and do it again.
Finish em off with their own fuckin chain.
My fashion my passion my game.

Insert coins.

Ive done all dat backpacker ting. The Mekong in Laos, the hovels of le Haut Atlas, the Euro beach-bum, the train stations, M5 lay bys and camp fires. Its all The TAZ.

Youz can pass through any sketch on a month visa vatever, but if dont ever live there no fucker can authentically know it. It is the 3rd space out der. As soon as I leave The TAZ its der. It reeks, it gets all over yer, it pisses yer off.

I don't do it half arsed. Im on the local busses every day. And 3rd space public transport is pyar cattle class. Its sights, smells, sounds and battles. Im on it toujours in me proffessional finery, avec android blower y scouse attitude. I believe dat most people are a waste of air but I take me half Celtic half Liverpool hat off to meself and all the others who travel in this most hep mode. Theres vomit and thieves, babies and bails of hay, drivers mash-up banging on the horn like duracell bunnies. But that is la vie authentique. 4 million twats clog up the narrow rues in useless face masks. Cant blame em for trying to hide their shame.

And when I tred the paving I crab walk to block the nobs who come up me arris on their hondas. One clip of me ankle, a touch too much, and the saps go down on a painful stretch as me bicycle-kick takes em back to the pits they came from.

For a fucking brain change.

People who know no better if anything at all, and who hang out at cocktail bars 9 floors above the slums consider me a pirate. Cos Im on a self-professed mission to take as much young salad out of this dump as possible. They'll go home and no-ones impressed, yeh vatever, we saw yer pissed fotos on facebook. What a year.

Stop n search me. Youz'll only find de truth in me pockets. Dat an a flabsim of tokky rocky. Jo, Jsem authentik. Fakt. Jo.

Heres The Army...

book review : Hardcore Zen

2011-11-06T07:00:00.001Z

Skate buddhists, hard as hell.

brillo pad

2011-11-03T12:07:00.000Z

Theres a little Korean place around the corner from The TAZ. Its opposite a hotel that has coach loads of the dreaded Hana Tour groups passing through everyday.

I occassionaly pop in there for a dolsot bibimpap. And a chance to shout Korean/Scouse around the dump in a commanding timbre.

Lets laugh at the manager for a while. For this is text book ajoshi. He wears a perm on his head that is curled so tightly that it looks impermeable to water. His clobber sand wedges yer into a grimace. Its fiercely driving range in a cheap creme v-necked tank-top over a tangerine shirt way. Regulation pissing-against-a-wall- whilst-yelling-about-Dokdo slacks and offensive tan canoes on foot.

He orders his local staff around as if they are given 15 seconds per roll on the gimbap. I feel sorry for them, they scowl and mutter at him when his back his turned. I haven't seen anyone as angry as him since I clocked myself in the window of a Seoul subway carriage that was full of kimchi-stinkbomb salarymen. They all were to be honest. Phew.

scouse virtuoso

2011-11-02T13:19:00.000Z

Living in a country where the locals spend most of their time between sticking their fingers up their noses and riding horrible dirty mopeds all over the shop, its no surprise to come down with a bit of a chesty cold now n den.

But it doesn't keep me from the classroom. Im too dedicated to my art. Im too good. Theres a constant flow of newbies being sent to observe my classes in order for them to get 'it', even just a little bit.

I've completely mastered this shit. Have taught everything everywhere. All levels all courses. I get dropped bails of pak choy for just turning up and tuning in the future drop-outs.

Its just a matter of what I turn my hand to improving next.

theatre review: The 'Scottish Play' @ Saigon Opera House

2011-10-28T17:49:00.000+01:00

"Is this a load of shite I see before my eyes?"

"Verily forsooth it fucking well is."

Annual Redner

2011-10-26T00:38:00.000+01:00

Exclusive pictures here can reveal that MattSid is planning to really pull-out all the stops at this years Busan Halloween ~~Nobhead Festival~~ Party...

vesuvi-ass

2011-10-24T13:08:00.000+01:00

I spent the day in the office. Just staring out the window at the towers, the clouds and the circulating pollution. Then I got bored of dat shit and went to you tube to watch videos of the yellow trams of Plzen cruising around a previous fodding ground of mine.

It was tremendously romantic. Over a 2 stretch there I must have spent almost 10 months ploughing through that frozen gray sludge. I wonder whos bossing the arrows board down The Panther these days?

But I don't wonder for too long. Cos I soon have to leg it to the khazi to deal with this case of the wildies that I picked up over the weekend. Its a warm orange sludge that youz certainly wouldn't wanna be ploughing through.

Talking about shit....Lionel Ritchie.
I was in the lift with one of my PA's the other day and she asks me what music I like.
"Little Richard", I told her.
"Oh Lionel Ritchie, very good. Do you know blahblahblahsomefuckingshitballadorther?"

You must understand that domestic popular music is so bad here that they consider Korean K-Pop to be the height of cool.

I mean..."He-llo...!"

blowback

2011-10-22T11:28:00.000+01:00

The pictures of Gaddafi Duck getting toasted were as unsettling as those of Sadam Who'sSane? hanging out. Now dont get me wrong all youz Che ash tray using millitants. Im all for laying waste to exploitative evil mentalists. But I'd like to think that when we catch Bliar for his crimes he'll be given a fair trial then torture and bread and water for the rest of his days. Its better to make 'em suffer. The only comfort we have in Thatcher still being alive is that she's a total basket case these days and has to get her nappies changed for her. Its true, her rectums gone after she gave it up to Reagan for all those years.

*****

The sliver of respect I had for The Stone Roses for writing abar 3 decent tunes has gone. Typical manc hypemasters. A load of middle aged office bods donning their flares and toddling off to some park to give 60 odd bullets to a load of equally ald old coke heads. Thats entertainment folks. You get what yer pay for. The only thing thats ever good the second time around is last nights pizza leftovers after its slept in the fridge for 8 hours.

*****

Saigon sketch....
"Motorbike?" A local asked me for the 33rd time that day.
I angled my head as I drew level and flashed Tha Fod at his nenger.... "Ambulance?" I suggested.

The importance of being stupid

2011-10-19T12:57:00.000+01:00

Pulled a small muscle between ribs 3 n 4 on dee left hand side. Serves me right for clean and jerking that truck full of washing machines that I saw near the gym the other day.

Should've warmed up with something a bit lighter really.

No stranger to thunder and lightening down this way. Either that or its the universe papping me. I tell yez theres so much flashing going on I'm half expecting Shwbz to turn up with a blag laminate.

But the 6pm darkness is marker pen highlit in a pink and purple. The entire sky glows for a second and whallops you with a hue of bruised rose, like Purple Aki on a field trip in Cheshire Oaks, at half-term.

"Pop or slash?" demands the sky. And we are popped with thunder and slashed on vertically with warm wet filthy rain.

Big shout to all the Khmer n Thai kidders at the mo...

Here's The Army...

I was looking at a few random weblags the other day and it really hit home to me how stupid this here particular weblag is.

And forgive my modesty but thats the whole fucking point.

welsby

2011-10-15T17:49:00.000+01:00

Heres that Man Ure line-up in full...

GK - Billy Bum Fluff
D - Smelling ... Rapist ... Daffy Duck Coke Head Pervert ... Embarassing Cheat
M - Kimchi Stinking Acne Ridden No Hair Style Can Save you Ugly Fuck... Frankensteins Monster... Pig Ugly ... Has a wank on You Tube...Fucks his Brothers Wife.
A - Wellbad

And on the bench.... Granny Shagging Married to a Scouse Minger ... Little Penis... MJ

Manager... The Purple-Faced Hard-Shoulder Shitting Knight of the Realm.

heavy metabolistics

2011-10-13T23:05:00.000+01:00

With complete indifference I has renounced my existentialism.

'To be' is no longer my favourite verb.

Quite simply 'I' am not reality.

Just a figment of your imagination.

But 'you' also don't exist.

film review: Sans Soleil

2011-10-11T13:50:00.000+01:00

She wrote me...

I sell a curtain with an onion pattern.

Harajukoo
Shinjukoo

Wish you were here.

Q's for youz....

2011-10-11T12:56:00.000+01:00

Okay all youz Tefal-fodded-eggheads....let me lay these on yez...

They are straight hetrosexual questions with straight hetrosexual answers..

1. Name the two sports in which neither the spectators nor the participants know the score or the leader until the contest ends.

2. What famous North American landmark is constantly moving backward?

3. Of all vegetables, only two can live to produce on their own for several growing seasons. All other vegetables must be replanted every year. What are the only two perennial vegetables?

4. What fruit has its seeds on the outside?

5. In many liquor stores, you can buy pear brandy, with a real pear inside the bottle. The pear is whole and ripe, and the bottle is genuine; it hasn't been cut in any way. How did the pear get inside the bottle?

6. Only three words in standard English begin with the letters ' dw' and they are all common words. Name two of them.

7. There are 14 punctuation marks in English grammar. Can you name at least half of them?

8. Name the only vegetable or fruit that is never sold frozen, canned, processed, cooked, or in any other form except fresh.

9. Name 6 or more things that you can wear on your feet beginning with the letter 'S.'

10. Fod on dat...!

Britains Bitterest

2011-10-10T09:00:00.000+01:00

The derby match had been over for a week. But when I ran into some Bluenose and his missus who are both from Widnes on Fri night down the pub, they clearly hadn't got over their crushing defeat.

I fancied a laugh so I tapped him on the shoulder. "Im sure Ive met you before. Aren't youz two bitters?"

The fella wasn't pleased at all. And he looked bladdered. Hard to tell though ... lets just say that when God was giving out the good looks....these 2 were in Widnes. he mumbled some shit about 'fair play' and 'be ashamed to win like that' and 'diving daego bastard' etc etc ...

I thought it was hilarious so continued to wind him up good n proper. He became so 'bitter' that I eventually had to walk away so that he didn't attempt to punch me.

It was the best part of Friday night to be honest. Look forward to seeing him again. I'll ask him if he wants a Pint of John Smiths to make up for it.

Occupy The TAZ?

2011-10-09T12:23:00.000+01:00

Big shout to all the sisters and brothers occupying the home of modern slavery in protest at our own stupidity in letting these vampires get away with it for so long.

But I was a little put out this a.m to wake to find that the stiffs had done a twist on it...

Tune... I woke to a cacophony of banging and yelling. As per usual the regular sunday morning 'roast of free love' was swinging in The TAZ. Like a scene from David Baileys shag-pad in the sixties, minus Mick Jagger trying to blag in and hit on someones chick; it was all nude waify supermodels, pop art extravaganza and half an oz of red leb stashed up someones arse.

The TAZ October 2011

I took a chillum from the freezer and upturned it to snuff out the cathedral candles that had burned all night, and opened the balcony doors to muck out last nights bucket of spunk and was greeted by an angry mob of suited up hooligans. As soon as I clocked how boring their hair was, last nights party-six, 2 bottles of babycham and a Harvey Wall Banger returned to my throat...in a bile style.

I donated a quick shower of frothy puke to the cause down below and nipped back in to find a faux yak skin shawl to wrap around me to combat the shivers n shakes.

-------middle 8-------

all these geeks going on that Steve (nob)Jobs was some kind of revolutionary...please be sure that you are hip to the fact that all his i phone malarky was made by chinese kids in sweat shops.

-----------------

Meanwhile. Jean 'The Leech' Leechton had clamped her rouge pout around me long n hairy so I got Vidal Sassoon to cut her off and then I heard a 'ding' from the dumb waiter. Great, 'Brekky' thinks I...'a champers n passion fruit smoothie', and I swept over and opened the serving hatch....

....fucks sake....

.....'Tharp la'...what are you doing in there? Yer popular Korea blogger.'

Showbiz was wearing some kind of laminate around his neck and had the look of that chubby overtly camp chap in LA who stalks celebrities. 'Star dust...star dust...me precious...' he salivated.

I slotted him a doggy bag of a few roaches, a pair of some Jap chicks slimey knickers and planted a sweet goodbye fod on his cheek then slid down the little door and sent him down to The Basement.

Back outside the business studies graduates were all doing stupid things with their hands and running around like blue arsed flies. 'Them un-hep nobwipes wont spoil the day' I knew. 'Wheres the Leech? Leechy? Leechy?' I called. But all that came running to me was some boy with short hair.

The 60's were over.

snaps and rips 2

2011-10-09T08:57:00.000+01:00

Some great trees in this country.

Whats in the basket?

A capsule of a dodgy looking big wheel. Reminded me of pac-man...the pill popping freak who inspired the Rave genertaion.

This fucking homosexual 'hipster' thought he'd look cool if he spent the day wearing his shorts around his knees. Twat didn't look so hep later however when forced into donning this ridiculous cheap piss coloured plastic poncho no-no.

Apparently Vietnam has only one train track in the whole country. Its still better than the Britsih rail network after Thatcher and her pals had their way with it.

The rarest of sights in Ho-Chers...empty road.

The word 'phuc' has many meanings and uses in Vietnamese...none of them are sweary but that doesn't hinder people like me from loking for unamusing examples of it all over town.

sunflower Gerorge: Scouse Legend

2011-10-05T13:26:00.001+01:00

Shuffle on the hi-hat (a touch open)
clave clave

And here I am. Under the full beam of the same moon that shines upon the duck pond in Falmer village and that shines upon you.

Wherever you are, you are ...here...

quack quack

It was the magic mushees that made me who I am. Just the one or a few thousand, doesnt matter. The mushees tuned a lot of city kidders into some good shit and is in many cases the only time in someones life where nature teaches them something.

The abuse of nature is unending and is generally conducted by meat type people. Back in blighty they hide it from you through the blindingly see-through facade of cellophane and the preposterous recycling bin. The 3rd space way has no such disguises, they'll cook any gibblets right there on the street and then throw the plazee bag into the gutter.

So wherever you stand, or blob about- breath stinking of mechanically retrieved flesh- you'll find that vegetarians are the most enlightened and progressive of all homo sapiens.

Im really looking forward to this one...

"The thing that repelled me about eating meat was the idea of killing animals. But the main issue is that it's not healthy and not natural." - George Harrison

write 50 - 100 words on one of the following subjects...

2011-10-04T15:08:00.002+01:00

The clouds are space invaders

All the hacked up phlegm in Asia

A drinking sesh with a pelican, or an elephant

Tony Blairs spiritual guru

To have no life options but to collect litter in Vietnam

3rd space heave-ho

2011-10-03T11:03:00.000+01:00

The gym at the Workers Club Saigon District 1 is a staunchly male environ.

Retrieved shrapnel, pieces of tanks, lumps of granite lay all over the deck below a mass of sky blue benches.

And the heat...its a sweat lodge as no one is feminine enough to inquire as to how to turn on the fans.

No need for changies here and the shower is a hose without a nozzle.

They charge 50p for all day. My type of set. I'll be crushing Boa Constrictors with my bare hands within days.

Newphemisms

2011-09-29T13:35:00.000+01:00

I deal in lingo every day.

People pay me to.

Im forever explaining context and meaning and appropriateness.

And I was an early contributer to Rogers Profanasaurus back when Viz was funny...

So Im always on the lookout for new angles with the Queens.

I've brought you a few good euphamisms here...

Off the top of me swed I can recall....

"Young gentleman with a lisp" - a homosexual

"Solvent" - adjective to describe an attractive woman

and so on.

Well my man Showbiz (buy his book, hes got a wedding to fund) has just inadvertantly just popped up with a new one...

"Popular Korea blogger" - a complete and utter tit.

eg. "Hey do you fancy checking out the plastic bag museum this weekend?"
"Fuck off. It'll be full of popular Korea bloggers."

Get on it.

Pooem: for Little Richard

2011-09-27T14:51:00.000+01:00

I am a great ape
Lee Perrys Super Ape
On banana vinyl
Nicked from a poseurs record shop
In Englands fashionable London.

Beating my chest
To echo the treasure trove inside
Boo Ya Hoo Hoo Hoo
Daddys takin us to the zoo tomorrow
To liberate the animals.

Settin' em all free with me negativity
Kickin' in cages
Takin' back the trees
Knowin' me roots
Slayin' capitalist beauts.

Can't help it
L'hipster U cant help it...

Mick Jones doesn't but The Sun

2011-09-25T14:25:00.000+01:00

http://www.liverpoolecho.co.uk/liverpool-news/in-the-mix/2011/09/21/lead-guitarist-of-the-clash-mick-jones-why-i-m-proud-to-play-don-t-buy-the-sun-gig-100252-29458165/

'real' head teacher

2011-09-25T12:30:00.000+01:00

26th Sept 2003 was the day I dropped into The Korea to start getting my kicks outta teaching the English to the foreigners. Alongside this shite I've kept a journal all along the trip and its a real treasure trove of buzzez n ups n downs.

cult classic not best seller...the journal cover.

I fell off the plane at Busangeles and met the other 'teacher' at my school, a Welsh rocker with a spikey mullet called Gaz who later came to be known as 'Fists Morgan'. Deffo started on the bottom rung like.

I didn't have a clue when I first started but since then Im badged up and every time I've been assessed by some teaching boffin or other they've had nothing but praise for me. And consequently, I the same for them.

So eight years down the road kiddas and Ive lived and taught in 5 countries, been fired once, walked out of 2 jobs and been kicked out of one city. The best thing apart from the mooching is meeting all the people that you do. Not just the chicks. You meet some great heads and of course some complete fuckin' fruitcakes and a few nobs who you wouldn't piss on if they were a urinal.

What the fuck else is there to do? That is my existentialist Q to you, here, and quite lidderally... now.

Life is a dangerous occupation. But yez may as well have a crack at it.

film review: Hearts and Minds

2011-09-25T03:34:00.000+01:00

Uncle sam really really wants you to be free...but in the meantime he'll carpet bomb you and spray you with millions of gallons of agent orange and dioxins.

Nevermind is Bollocks

2011-09-21T00:36:00.000+01:00

Its some fuckin anniversery or other of Nirvana releasing some album or other.

Nirvana are the 2nd most over rated band ever (number 1 is oasis) and I'll tune yez in as to why now...

I'd been going to gigs by all these yank bands for years at the ald Planet X before Nirvana got famous. Probably even seen Nirvana there themselves along with Soundgarden, Killdozer, Sonic Youth etc etc...

At that time the British pUnK scene was full of bands playing fast and loud, we called it Hardcore Punk. The yank bands were doing something simillar just a bit slower and in checked shirts.

The music had been around long, long before some beaut in a SubPop office came up with the term 'grunge' and sold it to the mainstream audience.

QED...anyone who thinks that Nirvana somehow define the coming of a new scene, and that grunge is comparable to Little Richard, '68, '76 or the rave scene... is a top top nobhead eg. an amateur, who just jumped on the bandwagon and was probably listening to Hall and Oates and Bon Jovi whilst I was slam dancing to The Shitlickers on Newcy Brown aged 15 down the ald Planet X.

Smells like yez've just been 'Told'.

film review : In The Year Of The Pig

2011-09-20T14:58:00.000+01:00

film review : Knuckle

2011-09-16T16:57:00.002+01:00

Knuckleheads.

Free School

2011-09-15T16:08:00.000+01:00

If yez have ever spent a mo within the paper fortress of accademia, youz'll know dat dat de whole place is full of geek whoppers.

Geek whoppers who jump on a salary scale and start writing theories n Hite about the likes of you n I n I. Doing a few weeks in the slums, with the underclass or with some bankers...vatever. Then fucking off back to their office to write up their findings that they publlish in journals that are so dry that only whoppers like them wanna read em and its like yeh QED...big fucking wow. Could've told yez dat over a gargle as a passing comment if I could be arsed going to yer local if yer bird was fit enough.

Accademia exists to give middle class tits who possess no bollocks an excuse to geg onto the periphery of anything that is a bit exciting.

I'm banned from accademia. Cos I know too much.

I am too much. Past, present and continuous. My favourite verb is To Be.

6 countries and a load of hippy farms looking after myself and counting.

Youz know me.

Realheads know me.

Is my pooetry on the sylabus?

I am the sylabus.

Get on the bus...

B.A. TAZ studies.

speedoes @ the lido

2011-09-14T00:10:00.001+01:00

Im a patron of the sporting facilities at The Workers Club in Saigon district 1. All the typical working mans liesure pursuits are available such as petanque and tennis and they have a large lido style swimming pool.

Normally when I think of 3rd space swimming holes my mind goes back to that place in the mountains above Pai in The Golden Triangle where Thai rastas pass you a chong and a chang as you complete a length. But this Saigon number is a different sketch. I think it may be a bit erm...'cruisey'. Im mean youre more like to be mingling with fashion designers and P.A.'s than stevadores and miners.

You actually have to do laps in a circle in this pool, its an odd one...they swim like they ride mopeds, and I was just resting up when I found myself being addressed by an unending flow of 'young gentlemen with lisps'.

One of them asks me "Are you bent?"
"What?"
"Are you bent?" His face being the only straight thing about him, "Or are you Itallian?".
"WTF?" Thinks BoHo Chi Minh myself, then it dropped. "Oh you mean am I French? No, I'm a Scouser". And off I swim leaving the poor chap to wait another day to find a white man to wank off in the showers.

The place is absolutely filthy but you have to expect that in a place such as this. I haven't been sick yet, but then as matey above can tell you...I don't swallow at the pool.

Being just 10 degrees from the equator night falls at almost the exact same time every day and putting the dirt and Herberts aside...under the evening moonlight and away from the noise of the moped madness, the pool water sparkles in the most beautiful turquoise. Its a very chilled-out set, in this non-stop 3rd rate 3rd space.

snaps and rips

2011-09-12T01:25:00.000+01:00

Eccentric capitalist millionaires come in all forms. This here robed-up entrepreneur looks to be onto quite an earner.

Vietnam from a roadside cafe. Any rural roadside. Chick on her way down there to ask me if I fancied any 'bang bang'.

These saps belong to a religious cult who believe in Buddah, Islam, Christianity, Confusianism, Daoism etc etc etc...No wonder they all got their heads down.

The lady is a buddah. My local temple sketch.

On a tour to the Cu Chi tunnels some Indonesian kidda rocked up wearing these teribble spongiform flipflopalitises. Not even pitch-black down a tunnel whilst being carpet bombed by B52's kid.

film review : Midnight in Paris

2011-09-10T04:01:00.002+01:00

White man in the Boeing 777-312ER.

film review : Exit through the giftshop

2011-09-04T15:22:00.000+01:00

For over 20 years a piece of A4 has sat in a window of a derelict building in Brighton. Printed on that paper are the words 'shopping is not creating.'

restaurant review : Nha Hang Chay (aka Healthy World), Saigon

2011-09-03T16:06:00.000+01:00

3 years in South Korea...

Half a Showbiz.

Which makes me be on a deliacte shy pinkish blush rather than the full glowing crimson molten hot redner of Huck Tharp.

And during those 3 years I found one decent veggie munch house in the whole fucking place. It was a buffet in Somyeon run by some kind of Jehovas Mormon fuck. Not a bad nose bag though.

Here the righteous diet is celebrated with hundreds of Chay gaffs. Thie above is my local and they do knockout pans of Thai broth that you lash things off the conveyor belt into and let em cook. Its deffo top-end for this city as they are charging £6 for all yer can eat.

They have a veggie shop on the G floor that sells such uneccessary products as fake pigs ears and an unnerving dried vegan fish thing. Swerve.

*****

What with The TAZ now nicely settled in a cool leafy part of town away from the mayhem of the peasantry, Ive taken to getting to know a few of the locals. Im a mancs throw away from a female buddhist temple that has an actual female buddah statue on the porch (Whats wrong with being sexy?) and that has the kitschest flashing light display all over the front gates that are always locked....insert gag here about how its only a matter of time etc etc...

Ive also got a little man who hangs out in the area and tunes me into les mots du jour. Hes a deep mediatator who goes at it for 6 hours non stop and is bouncing with energy and smiles. He carries a handful of lucys in his shirt pocket just to keep his teeth topped up with blackness.

At the other end of the street is the corner stall woman who wont let me pass without going through my bags and telling me that she sells that and that I should buy it off her next time. So I went to pick up a 5 litre agua sin gas off her and she took 3 minutes with a tickling stick de-dusting the cap of the bloody thing. She's there 24/7 amid the rabid chained up mutts, mangey felines and the parade of old whores who follow me around trying to get me to ride off into the distance with them for some 'Boom Boom'.

Yes its all tremendously Bo-Ho Chi Minh. I need to get to the beach asap cos this T shirt tan is making me look pyar guiri. And yez dont wanna classed alongside all the fat white yanks for whom theyve opened a few fucking shite fried chicken branches around town. Fortunately I havent spied any mcshit places yet...good on the commies for dat one.

film review : Lemmy

2011-09-02T12:35:00.000+01:00

Rock'n'Roll eye-wash

repeat to fade

2011-09-01T16:23:00.000+01:00

En la global teatro de la homosapiens, there are far too many souls playing the role of the fool.

So therefore just make sure that you are penning the scenes. Give yerself a leading role and remain stage fucking centre.

I do.

Get me?

Gays call hetros breeders. I call the general P. repeaters. Youz know the cats who get thro' the trip by fitting in where they feel that they should fit in and then playng 'step on a crack-break yer back, step on a line-break yer spine', finding a niche in society...like a fucking pot noodle or a pair of skinny jeans.

Pah.

I'll stick it all together one day and get Scouse as, The Scally Lama, The Unsaved and The Caf to hype me. Now that would be a forword. Or several.

Im at the point now where travel broadens my mind in the way that I never cease to be gobsmacked by the crapness of other peoples existences.

Theres nothing new under the sun, its all underground.

3rd world slum

2011-08-30T12:28:00.000+01:00

The TAZ is currently located bang in the centre of the type of area in which Showbiz would like to be seen spending half an hour or so of his summer hols whilst chowing down on something deep fried and illegible and largely consisting of a Chinamans pubes and toenail scrapings. Thats just after hes fallen off a long distance bus totally pissed of course.

Well Ive spent a week here and no more.

Tomorrow Im on the move to a quiet district full of flowers and temples and modest locals. An elegant ex-colonial villa kind of scene. Scraggs in baggy khaki bermudas and a large GnT on the balcony sketch. Its the difference between 20 quid a week rent and 25 quid a week rent.

I'll lay the story of the Hen of The Baskevilles on yez sometime...stay tuned in...

restaurant review: The Loving Hut, Saigon

2011-08-29T13:28:00.002+01:00

Work finished cos I told it to and I dropped 8 floors into the heat and the rainy season. Im no fool doh as yez know, and I carrying an excellent piece of anti-storm outer-wear, in a pair of blue shades with a silver UV piping that freaked out enough K'd up heads at Shambala last year.

I waltzed on to The Loving Hut. Entered the sketch and "Now den'd" the maitre d.

Maitre D: Zin chao. You must be a Scouser.

L'hipster U: No shit love. Ethical Scouser. Slot us the best seats.

Maitre D: My pleasure and please let me photograph you to add to the list of famous vegetarians on the wall.

L'hipster U: Okay kid. Flick that beaut out the Red Hot Chilli Peppers off the board and fit us in between Voltaire and Anderson P.

The place looks a bit like the conference room in a stronghold belonging to a religious cult, these places often do. Its either dat or some wannabe boho decor. But as soon as they'd fucked the monks off from the top table I was nicely set up and given free run of the menu. I popped for a Thau rice thing and the winter melon in garlic thing with a couple of dem obligatory fresh spring roll capers. And I have to lay it on yez...it was top notch. All of it. Theres no hooch getting nocked out in the gaff but Im sure yez'll be able to smugle a half of Jamos in and lash it in a glass of ginger juice.

Get on it.

*****

The band of the first saigon dragoons?

2011-08-27T08:30:00.000+01:00

Every other morning at around 4 in the anti meridian, I can hear a marching band go past The TAZ. They are a full band too. Brass and percusion playing a funky and jivey, non-military type of tune-age that I thoroughly dig the most. What are these cats up to?

I know not at the mo. But I'll find out.

Just after they've wandered off, the rooster in the back yard crows.

Its SE Asia out there.

2011-08-25T05:02:00.002+01:00

The TAZ is currently situated above a hair salon full of young homosexuals, in the back streets of Saigon.

Pooems...from The Scally Lama

2011-08-21T20:33:00.000+01:00

The Scally Lama is a boooooooodist (Gere, R. every ten minutes), he's also a dab hand with the auld vapouriser.

Well from his esoteric lair of cats on the Smithee Road Front-Line, hes been penning some fine, fine spiritualistic pooetry for us all...

Get on it....

In HCMC with the Bohemian Girl

The Great Scouse Novelist travels the world

Leaving kiddas and followers well behind

To face the tedious daily grind

He honoured us with his Exalted presence

For a while rubbing shoulders with migrants and peasants

But he had to take off in search of adventures

in the time left before he'll be tending his dentures.

*****

From Kenny's streets selling toothless gams

To the balmy heat of Vietnam

From the land of riots and thieving twats

to the land of temples and conical hats

Abandoned, the TAZ, the streets now bereft

A poorer place now HE has left

Fare thee well, your presence is missed

Who says that I'm taking the piss?

*****

Same old mundane shit over here;

Fakehippy trots the globe sans fear

with faithful bohemian consort,

while i watch the local transport

through torn lace curtains, what a sight

the 86 bus: bag o shite.

a stinkin flat, 2 stinkin cats

a stinkin job, aint life a twat

TSOS, my fuckin mantra

enough of this fuckin banter

sign this...

2011-08-18T13:38:00.000+01:00

http://epetitions.direct.gov.uk/petitions/2199

... on the off chance that it makes any difference.

i have zero tolerance for tory cunts

2011-08-17T13:34:00.002+01:00

Hey
Don't blame me. I didn't vote for the fucking morons.

A pair of kiddas get banged up on a 4 stretch for writing some Hite on facebook. Someone else gets 18 months in the hole for nicking a couple of bottles of water from an Aldi... not even Thatchers mob would've tried to get away with this kind of abuse of power.

Its clearly Class War. And they started it.

Dear me.

Oh dear me.

Utilities companies fleecing the masses left right n middle and when you phone them to complain, they're piping a bloody Blur song at ye.

Its cheaper to fly around the country than to jump on a train. Cos some foreigner owns the tracks, another foreigner owns the trains, another foreigner owns the stations, another foreigner owns the buffet etc etc and they all wanna fucking huge profit out of us.

The government are in the pocket of some ald Aussie cunt who also pays the police to turn a blind eye to his 'journalists' who are hacking everybodys phones.

Our traditional footy clubs are being bought by vampiric foreign twats who didn't know what togger was till they heard there may be an earner in it.

Well fuck this for a game of 'being exploited by the rich 24/7/365'... I'm off to the 3rd space. Last one to leave this corrupt crumbling old relic ... please turn off the lights.

And oh yeh...Smiley Culture stabbed himself in the heart...during a police raid....right...

2011-08-15T17:49:00.000+01:00

Charlie Don't Surf / Apocalypse Now from Cinque Lee on Vimeo.

museum review: Museum of Liverpool

2011-08-14T13:39:00.000+01:00

From some angles it looks like a pair of futuristic Camberwell carrots laid across each other. But there are no real drug connotations inside. The drugs bit is taken care of by the Maritime Museum around the corner. In fact there is no shortage of museums in The Pool. No shortage of drugs either.

Knowing The LIV as I do, I went down to this newly opened sketch expecting to be greeted by a load of Beatles n Footy memorabilia. Of course theres all that shit in spades (not huge ones in the bath), but a lot more besides.

The first floor has an exhibition about Liverpools connection with Shangers. The Bund indeed seems to be a copy of The Pier Head and the cities are twinned. The best part of this bit is at the entrance where you'll find a pair of buddah statues that the label most aptly describes as having been 'looted from Burma'...its in our national blood you see! You can't blame the youth of today when we've been proudly looting for centuries.

The cultural section upstairs is the best bit. A cool Beatles film features The Fabs in stickman animation form being chased by a load of chicks and the togger film shows The Mighty Reds lifting ol' Big Ears 5 times whilst The Bitters are able to boast of Bob Latchford having set a goalscoring record back in the late 70's.

Theres a lot of good stuff here. Music and literary wise... one young kidder upon walking past a framed platinum disc was heard to remark to his father "Dad...look at this giant CD!"

Theres a good film about the Scouse accent and idiom and clobber and attitude in which a few people who are interviewed on the streets rip into the mancs good style. And a nice natural history set where you can ponder the origin of the Liver Birds and upstairs theres even a life size replica of one which someones just gotta paint orange for a buzz.

Anyway, get yer arse down there yer tits... its better than a fucking ceramics carnival in the arse end of Seoul.

England swings

2011-08-09T09:54:00.000+01:00

Did you see the stylish kids in the riot...

But I never realised that the youth of England had such hatred towards carpet shops.

And members of the ever amusingly moronic general p. are calling for "...the army to be put on the streets"... just like in Libya and Syria. And what are they gonna do anyway? Tanks firing all over the shop.

Twitter riots. Hillarious. Hyper realism is all around us.

Kleptoparasitism

2011-08-08T17:46:00.000+01:00

Capitalism is finished.

All thats left of it is being picked at by scavengers.

Of course there are many types of scavengers.

The mindless majority of MP's were caught fiddling their expenses. All they did was offer to pay it back, only one or two were sent down for this piss-taking acts of theft.

One of them got off prison by saying that he was gay and that he had to have a second home (paid for by the tax payers) cos he didnt want his parents to find out that he was a fan of 'bum fun'. With this in mind you'd've thought he wouldn't be able to wait to drop soap down The Scrubbs.

All property is theft...and in London (dswatpl), Proudhon's words can be taken literally. In London (dswatpl) however, these two imposters are rarely treated just the same.

the parable of the Tory government (rptd)

2011-08-07T10:49:00.000+01:00

Blessed are the kidders who had a fucking good crack at the bizzies in Tottenham last night. For they will inherit new laptops, mobile phones, clobber and a load of hooch out of the smouldering supermarket.
Amen.

footy season preview

2011-08-06T14:21:00.001+01:00

The same teams as ever will win everything.

If they are in danger of not winning everything at around chrimbo... then they will spends £100,000,000 buying everyone elses players to ensure that they do win everything.

Man Ure will buy all the refs again but if any ref does give an important decission against them by mistake, then the purple faced (looks like that zit I had on my balls the other day actually), shits-his-own-pants, knight of the realm will call him all the cunts under the sun and Shrek (with the ridicululous hair transplant for fucks sake) will stamp on his face till he admits his error and awards a penalty to man ure.

Every fucking moron and rent-a-gob in the media who makes a few quid out of the charade will declare it to be "The most fantastic league in the world."

Gig review : Stig Noise @ mellomello

2011-08-05T15:46:00.000+01:00

These boys could do with a haircut. Even one between the fuckin' lot of dem.

Fuckin' greebos.

But beyond the credlocks n dat...the kidders can play.

And its a heavy heavy playtime.

Im not usually into that kind of technical jazz/metal scene. TBH its pure Hite. But these go a step further. Up to 11. Its a heavy scene. I didn't know skinny hipsters were into thrash but there yez go.

Grrrrrrr..... et on 'em.

plum sauce

2011-08-04T15:56:00.000+01:00

I was in dat London (dswatpl) the other day. It was pure Hite.

Got taken on a bum steer and ended up plonked in Prickadilly Square. The worst place on earth (outside of Itaewon). So I stormed off and headed into the backstreets of Soho to laugh at the bad trannies and have a few street pushers off.

Only problem was that it was humid as fuck and I was melting. I was sporting boxies under me apres-surf slacks (in a midnight noir with charcoal pin) and said sweaty boxies were getting clingy around me knackers.

Chafin' me.

Sweat me.

Get me?

So anyway on the choo-choo back to Tha LIV I knew there was a little rash down there. But fuck me. It grew and grew and I could barely cycle today as the thing had expanded into a massive big zit. All purple n black n tender and attached to me sac.

It was pyar agony squeezing the fucker but it had to be done. Nasty. Puss everywhere. Its retreated back to a crimson pimple now. Grim.

And the moral of the story is clearly this...Be careful with yer nuts down in Soho.

2011-08-02T15:52:00.000+01:00

tongue n groove

2011-07-29T13:55:00.000+01:00

My mate...I'll call him ViaGary cos his names Gary and he carries an unopened packet of viagara 500's around with him 24/7 told me a while back that he was off to DJ at a 60's psych fezzy in the Dam.

Well he just got back...and he had a blast judging by the email I got off him yesterday...

"... i was in amsterdam, got back on thursday...filled me boots! a cute 22 yr old hungerian who likes having her arsehole licked! she couldn't get enough of it! i went back to her 3 times haha! fuck it, i'm not getting any younger am i?! and its only money..."

Its funny cos I was just flicking through Bravo's Culturebook again the other day and he talks about prostitution in it a lot. Maybe he couldn't get laid on home turf either...I dont know but anyway... After I'd "EEEEEEE'd" at the thought of licking a prostitutes ringpiece Viagary went on to assure me that she was dead clean.

"Well she was after you'd finished!" I quipped.

But the big Q is this...did he ask if he could add her on facebook on his way out of the windowbox?

2011-07-28T18:19:00.000+01:00

All I want for chrimbo is the audio book of Six Years in Korea by Showbiz Chris 'Tharp'.

Really shouldn't encourage him. Great read though. I've already sent it to everyone I know and she digs it. And you can get your copy here...just pop us yer email and a fiver and I'll whack it over to yez. No refunds.

Heads are always asking me when my book is coming out. And my reply is simple..."Dont take the piss."

But seriously, buy his book. He's a pUnK-ROcK Huck Finn for fucks sake, hangin' around in the back swamps n all dat innit? Page 11 is my favourite page.

*****

Im signing on at Kinglake House for a buzz. Kinglake House has all the architectural charm of a maximum security prison in Atlanta. Its fuckin harsh. 10 minutes in there and you can learn every aspect of every trick in the livre on ripping off the dole. See me there tmrw @ 1.45 for a masterclass. They always employ frumpy ageing chicks in these places. Its sure to be cos they think the top scalls wont get too aggressive at someone who looks like their Mum. The security patrol the dump in white shirts on minimum wage whilst lines of taxi's and sports cars wait outside.

Meanwhile, the upper class thieves and corporate paracytes are boasting over the sports day that they have planned for London (dswatpl) next year. Its bonuses all round and gold medals for the ex public school white men. I know a chick (lesbo, wouldn't) who works with freeing sex slaves and she told me that most of the poor women and men who are captured into this shit are done so to order and it mostly surrounds big sporting events such as this fucking joke. Let the truth be out...thats what Im all about here. The I.O.C., FIFA and all the business suits at all dem big companies who rock up on freebees to these events are right at it with trafficked sex slaves. Fakt.

I promise youz dat 5% of the British population are interested in the Olympics. This is 5% that we could easily do away with. In the original olympics it wasn't all running around in a circle on drugs; they had disciplines involving the arts and philosophy and all dat good shit. But seeing as how the general p are so fucking thick these days we can well rule that out. Lets throw a brick around and shoot things or prance around on a horse instead...thats real cool.

The last time I watched the Olympics was the mens 100 m's final in Seoul when the whole field had consumed more persians than has ever been taken in The Korea before or since. If they'd have been English teachers they'd still be in Incheon nick.

AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH....

2011-07-27T12:59:00.001+01:00

Fuckin wig on dat!

You've gorra be totally fucking insane to leave the house with as ferocious a backcombed number as dat shit going on!

Probably cos she's got no reflection, the fucking witch wouldn't know anyway.

Anyway, this is the lady who took the 'Great' out of Great Britain, and sold it to all her rich foreign friends for ten bob.

YTS

2011-07-26T16:48:00.002+01:00

I left school with a so-so hand of GCSE's. My Mum wanted me to have a go at A levels - economics, history...that kind of stuff, whilst as a young PuNK kidder I had my eye on having a crack at something a bit more interesting. But I agreed with a "Yeah,whatever" and within a month I'd sacked it off and dropped out and into the reality of Thatchers 1988.

Everyone knew there were no jobs around - didn't even bother looking for one cos I didn't want one; working would've meant compromising my free time and, even worse, compromising my PUnK clobber.

So it was left to some tit in a careers office to sort me out a YTS. The dreaded Young Thatcher Slave scheme that the milk snatcher had set up in order to disguise the unemployment figures that were currently running at around 4 million.

I was first sent to a shoe shop in St. Johns Market. Rocking up in my para boots the managers face was a picture. It couldn't have been a more innapropriate situation and the manager swiftly hid me in the stockroom and advised me to try "something in engineering".

Next they sent me off to a woodwork scheme at The Rocket. It was a shit shed where Huyton scalls threw sawdust in each others lunches and the volume and proximity of chisels and hammers freaked me right out. I did a day there for £6.

At Liverpool Youth Music in China Town I was to learn how to paint theatre backdrops with horse-glue based paint...the worlds foulest smelling substance. I was also told that I could have free music lessons there. I had 1 lesson I think but to be fair to the place there were a few heads kicking around who were in and went on to be in decent locl bands. In the theatre section down in the stinky basement there was one guy who modelled himself on Prince and another who modelled himself on Michael Jackson and who to everyones horror and hillarity would get-off with the circular steel girder in the middle of the room that held the roof up. The rest of us were freaks. But not as freaky as the management. When the manager found out that I was a vegetarian he sorted me a placement at an animal sanctuary somewhere out by Hale. I wasnt into it at all but he gladly drove me out there and left me one afternoon. I spent a few hours forking goat shit around before realising I had no way home. 3 buses later I was home at around 8.30pm and when I went in to tell the beaut that I wasn't going back there he went ape shit and accused me of hating animals.

After that place with still a year left before I could sign on, but by now on £35 a week (minus deductions for lateness, not turning up etc) I was set to learn how to silk-screen print in a windowless corrugated shed at the back of TJ Hughes's. There were girls doing sewing on the same floor but the lack of things to do meant that most of the days were spent snorting lines of speed off the lightbox and swigging off cans of cheap lager whilst on a 'ciggy break'.

The final YTS I was enrolled at some other so-called 'music college' opposite The Collegiate. I had a couple of jams in there but the most enjoyable thing was seeing the queue every Thursday when the expenses got knocked out. At its peak there must've been 2000 local 'musicians' stretching half way through Everton. The blag was to say that you lived over-the-water so you'd get a bigger wedge for your bus fares. It was fucking bleak but no-one cared by Thursday evening when we were chonging a flim and gargling smuggled in cans on the back wall bench of The Wilson in Wood Street. But thats a whole other scene....

"Fuck the clipboards!"

2011-07-25T19:06:00.001+01:00

I stepped off the train and onto a platform called Sole Street. I'd been told that this was the nearest station to where I was heading to work on a summer school for a month.
Outside of the tiny brick built station building birds sang freely, grass grew long and wild and the overhead sun spotlit me; alone and miles from fucking anywhere.

I called the local taxi company whose advertisment on the train timetable seemed to me to probably serve as less of an appeal for business than as a public service anouncement...with sitars! Ten minutes later a turbaned sikh arrived in a family hatchback to launch me down country lanes that ran through massive apple and pear orchards. There was a final glimpse of C21 Britian as we skirted a roundabout above some M number, then we plunged through posh gates and crunched steadily up the 1km gravel driveway that punctured the private green acres of Cobham Hall.

I was shown to a holding office where the other new staff were already in situ. I soon discovered that a young territorial army type from Chester had been there for an hour already and had been telling everyone that he was from Liverpool. He shut the fuck up about it on a massive redner as soon as I rocked up but I later heard him tell a couple of southerners that "...yeh my Scouse accent isn't as strong as Stu's." Theres a good reason for that thought I. And its the same reason that my Chester accent isn't as strong as yours. This guy had been employed as a house-parent which in laymans terms meant that he had to tell the male students to go to bed every night.

Another of the first people I met was Laurence. Laurence was the activities-manager. A man in his mid 30's with a pierced eyebrow and who dressed like a 12 year old boy dressed like a clown. I dreaded the day that I'd see him (or rather hear him) arriving for dinner sporting deely boppers on his head. He was fucking wacky.

Four hours into the induction spiel the final teacher arrived to join myself, Hadrian and Marta. This was a geeky anaemic junk-food vegetarian with a dyed carrot head and really stale Elvis Costello bins. She was to go on and wreck my head whenever I met her. But Hadrian (Hamish) and Marta were hip. Hadrian was the most English man I've ever met. He was so posh English that he barely ever finished a sentence, it was all "Yes well of course its...er...yes....you know", and when he wasn't finishing his sentences he was coming out with hillariously indepth shit about cricket. He had a cricketing analogy for everything, a previous relationship could have been refered to as being an "...Athertonian innings" for instance. He was fucking funny. And Marta was a sweet Basque girl who spoke perfect English in an alarmingly broad Notts/Sheff accent. We 3 got on well.

I was shown to my room which was a spartan affair with a small leaded window that peered out over the central courtyard where a defunct fountain sat with a sad black plastic bucket over its spout. The Hall was massive, beautiful and Grade 1 listed. The ex seat of Lord Darnley that since the 1960's had functioned as a boarding school for the unwanted daughters of rich foriegners. I got to TAZing my dwelling up with a mosaic from magazine pages and later with a hand painted T shirt. I enjoyed this detournement of an English stately home.

Our first group of students comprised of a handfull of lovely Bulgarians, nice Spaniards and typical Italians. The Italians sat at the back of my classroom behind expensive sunglasses and fell in love with someone different every day. It was to be a 2 week course during which we were to work on a project and make a presentation at the end of the fortnight. I chose that my class should create a fantasy island and populate it with weird creatures, make a national flag, invent a currency, write a newspaper and have presidential elections. It went really well and the kids didn't let me down in the presentation when they spoke about the political scandals on the island in which they accused their political opponents of 'being gay' or even better of 'looking gay'. I couldn't stop laughing and even the boss found it in herself to only mildly chastise me about the tickle.

I managed to blag onto a couple of day trips to Brighton and London and spent a day off in Gravesend and Rochester. Gravesend is shit. A real crap-town full of imigrants, single mothers and greasy spoon cafes. But I did see one of the most amusing busks ever. It was a bedraggled hippy-of-the-road who banged a bongo and actually had a dream-catcher attached to his matted credlocks. Fair play. I dropped him some shrapnel and he replied "Thanks buddy". He was pyar yank. How the fuck did he end up der? Dat must be some love story.

Back at the Hall the food was bringing everyone who didn't eat pork pies down. My frustration reached its zenith when I was dished up a plate of the usual cold pasta with a bland sauce. "Its the same everyday", I protested to the server only for a 'chef' to pop up behind her and say "I can do you an omlette", with a straight face. The head chef then sought me out for a pow-wow. He was pissed off and told me not to moan but tell him what to cook, so I returned 10 minutes later with a list of simple dishes such as baked spuds and salad, lentil soup, stir fry veg etc. and to be fair from then on he produced the goods and the whole place got happier. That was a revolutionary moment there that I brought about. Even the pig eating people recognised an improvement and I wasn't thanked enough for my efforts.

The dinning room was a constant source off annoyance to me as some of the staff seemed to have a Korean dislike of personal space and would crowd up to 12 people around a table at which myself and 3 or 4 others were enjoying a relaxing repast and chat. It was also in the dining room, the day after the slaughter in Norway in fact that a chubby Polish house-parent called Blaize rocked up in full gray camoflage clobber. A decent look in his homeland perhaps...but not where Im fucking eating.

The other communal space was a common room that fell into a natural 2 shift system. In the evening the badly dressed bores of the activities regiment would watch kids films and shit soap operas, then by 23 bells myself and a few other heads took over with wine, lager, tunes and pisstaking. A regular vistor was a guy called Ian. He was some kind of middle manager who walked with a stick and tried to score points - with everything he said being a thinly veiled insult to someone or a boast about himself and his "£500 bottles of wine". He was known to me as a top hooch-moocher. He never brought a drop to the dump but would stick around bumming the odd can or glass till he was nicely toasted and hobbled off. I didnt mind, I quite enjoyed the constant shit that he spouted and he was certainly no competition when the insults were flying.

I left the place a week before the end of my contract following one of my best ever Spinal Tap like moments. I'd been rota-d to go on some trip to London with a multitude of deadly Euro-Teens: The London Eye then Covent Garden (a fucking ridiculous escapade on a Saturday afternoon at the height of summer). I didnt fancy it at all and even less when some stiff told me that I had to carry a bag full of clipboards around all day. I refused point blank saying that I had my own bag to carry and that it was too hot for 2 bags, thus causing all the so-called management to freak out and insist that they had to 'discipline' me.

"Go 'ead den. Discipline me" I fronted.

"Its not that easy, come back in an hour " they shat.

"Can't yez do it any quicker?" I asked before rocking up to my room to pack.

I went down an hour later into the office where a couple of bosses and Ian and Laurence sat around in paro silence.

"Sorted den?" I asked, as Scouse as yer like.

Some chick then proceeded to tell me that I had to write a report down and they would write a report and then some other stiff in an office somewhere would make a decission. I knew she was out of her depth but I let her finish her piece and then stated...

"Nah I'm off anyway. If you back down its embarrassing for you so I'll do you a favour and leave. Just pay me for the 3 weeks."

You could smell them touching cloth as they realised I'd got the fuckin amateurs check mate. They then proceeded to try to get me to change my mind and stay, I already knew that they were short-staffed but I was having none of it. I was clearly too good for them and had just once again proved it. I'd already broken enough of their rules by chonging ganja all over the shop, not turning up for 'duties' and smuggling The Bohemian Girl in without permission.

I said my goodbyes to Hadrian who was plonked in front of a PC watching the cricket and then sauntered back to the office to tell one of the managers to give me a lift back to the platform, at Sole Street.

stu-ationist international

2011-07-21T20:20:00.001+01:00

Know dis...

Morons, fools, imbeciles and simpletons... its said that they come in many shapes and sizes. But I find it generally to be in the form of a human.

Meanwhile, I go about my business changing the world.

Its a revolution that gathers pace the more nobheads that I meet. I have to tell them and thus the word spreads quickly.

appy birtdee girls

2011-07-19T20:23:00.000+01:00

The worlds bossest building is 100 years old today.

Book review : Six years in South Korea by Chris 'Showbiz' Tharp

2011-07-16T09:56:00.001+01:00

The first thing I noticed was that I'd read all this shit before. This is the second book about teaching in The Korea to be somehow published this year and that has name checked me twice. At least Showbiz has actually met me though.

And there in lies the problem of my reviewing this book. I know Showbiz, I gave him his nickname, I dig the cat, even picked him up off the the floor of The Crown a couple of times. Even put him on the floor of The Crown once. He's me mate and I hope to see him again sometime.

But I have to be honest to the realheads and say that I have no idea why this book got published. Well I do really ... I christened him Showbiz.

I thought I might be missing something so I asked The Caf for his own review...

"Six years on The Cass. Redner", he quoted to me.

Go'ead Billy la'...

2011-07-11T17:02:00.000+01:00

constant service

2011-07-11T16:42:00.000+01:00

Last week I visited a town called Gravesend. It gets its name from the plague apparently as it marked the boundry of where they buried all the Londoners who popped off. You can see similar histories in areas of London such as Blackheath etc...

A day out in Gravesend is a small price to pay for a lifetime out of Gravesend.

The town centre is set out upon a pair of High Streets that form to make a cross. Along each High Streets sit lots of Greggs the bakers, Greasy spoon cafes and pound shops. Single mothers push prams around in a kind of anti-Miss World pageant.

I then trotted off to Rochester. The way to visit Rochester is to visit Gravesend immediately beforehand and to thus view the place in a favourable light. Theres a nice old castle and so-so cathedral and the whole village seems to rock on the fact that Dickens lived there for a few years. Naturaly I found every excuse to ask that ever hillarious Q..."Do you like Dickens?"

But yesterday on a perfect sunny summers day I returned to my second home...Brighton, England. Brighton is a superb venue for hipster performances. I sought out the shops and boutiques of The North Laine and stocked up on cheap tie-dyed long sleeved T's, vintage 2nd hand embroidered shirts from India and rayon Hawaian shirts from 1980's Korea. Thats some boss clobber there for yez. And as I necked a long beer on the pebbled beach and ran through some great memories from that very speck...the sun sank and Brighton partied on and on and on....

Spliffendor

2011-06-30T18:58:00.000+01:00

People ringing up making offers for my life...

I had to spew my summer gig in the Pool cos some other gang got hold of me and offered me a much better deal.

Im off down to Kent near London (dswatpl) to get up to some serious hi-jinkage in some Harry Potter type school with a swimming pool n tennis courts n all dat cool shit dat Im into...

Get a few more bunches of curly kale together innit.