The best flowers are stolen ones

I’m not sure I’m cut out for the summer. I managed to get a bit burnt in the shade yesterday. I don’t normally lie in the park due to both my aversion to the sun and my tendency to be allergic to grass but I was tempted into Clapham Common with cider and cheeky grins from the Charmer… remember him? I’m not sure why but I find I can never quite say no to that boy, even though he gives me flowers he stole out of my own garden.

It wasn’t the longest ever lie in the park since I had to be back at The Mansion by 4 for a hairdressing experiment with B. She decided that she want to attempt some home highlights and that I was the person to do them. I managed to force down my nerves… being charged with someone else’s beauty is never to be taken lightly… and take on the challenge. Thank goodness somewhere in amongst the peroxide fumes it all came out very well and I am starting to consider becoming a stylist of some variety.

Once the hairdressing and glamorising was done, Barb, B and I headed off to Earlsfield Station to meet Dawn, Kerry, Emma and Kate for a girls’ night out. Of course chaos ensued. We went from cocktails in Babel to Jagerbombs in The Grand. For Dawn, Kerry, Barb and I, it was like taking a step back 4 years into the past when we were all bouncing around in Boom Bar and drinking cheap wine… ah the good old days.

I made the mistake of wearing my killer heels… and they nearly killed me. By the end of the night I was walking like an 80 year old woman. Oh the things we do for beauty…

Surprisingly unhungover this morning… and hiding out in the lair to avoid further sunburn.

Welcome to Pleasure Ryland… where the drinking age is 9 and underwear is illegal

Last night B and I went gigging again. This time it was Cobra Starship finally live at KCLSU after postponing their original September gig twice.

We arrived just in time to see the lovely MiMi Soya peform Deathwish. The Brightonians definitely have spirit and frontwoman, Hero, manages to be cute without being annoying, which is a special skill in female fronted bands. They reminded me a lot of New Years Day. If you pop over to their MySpace you can get Deathwish for free at the moment.

Next up was the adorable pint-sized Cash Cash belting out synth pop in the style of Metro Station or Rediscover… except they were about 400 times better than Metro Station live. We did get a bit bored with the set and some songs were just a little too dancey for me but the Party In Your Bedroom song is crazy infectious. Gonna have it in my head for weeks.

Our final support was Sing It Loud fronted by stupidly pretty Pat Brown, who we were convinced was Jodie Kidd’s secret clone despite his claims that he was the male Taylor Swift. It was a case of all hair and no talent. though It’s not that Sing It Loud are bad per say, they’re just nowhere near as cool as they think they are and I’ve heard 40 other bands who not only sound almost identical, they sound better.

It wasn’t long after Cobra Starship came barrelling onstage that we realised that Gabe, and quite possibly Ryland and Suarez, were drunk off their tits. It didn’t affect the performance of the actual songs but boy, was Gabe talkative… more than usual. He even decided to have a bit of a go at some poor mohawked boy who was quietly minding his own business at the bar. The dancing was nastier, the lyrics were dirtier and poor Vicky T was constantly manhandled. We loved every second of it. We got an odd little medley of non-singles in the middle and Ben and Pat from Sing It Loud came out to help out with Kiss My Sass and Bring It. No offence guys, but we could have done with the real McCoy (hopefully other FBR devotees will get that one). Here’s a little video I did of The Church Of Hot Addiction.

In the end though it was good old Ryland who stole the show with his intro to Pleasure Ryland where we discovered that his newly acquired Pleasure Island underwear is illegal… punishable by SEX, learned how to do the sun walk and got to hear his impressive British accent. I didn’t get the beginning bit but here’s a snippet of the hilarity.

Pics are here. Enjoy!

Bandit Lee Way – 27 May 2009 – 14.57PST

Confirmed by Mikey Way via Twitter… we have a new rockstar baby to welcome into the world. Bandit Lee Way, born 14.57PST yesterday. Offspring of Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance and Lyn-Z of Mindless Self Indulgence. Massive congrats to both. Absolutely LOVE the name.

Looking for the original story? Here ya go.

Go-Getter Greg

Flash 26
Author’s notes: Another Ludo inspired number. Based on this song…

Diary – 5 March 2009

Things are finally looking up in this dump. I was in my kitchen looking for some beers and I saw this girl unpacking her car. Kinda girl you don’t see around here much. One of those blonde glamour-types, with pneumatic tits. You know, every guy’s fucking wet dream. I knew 205 was open but who’d have thought we’d get a Barbie doll like that? Of course, I’m a gentleman you know so I went out to help her… carry the big boxes you know? Show off the guns. She was loving it. Kept leaning forward so I could see those melons. She’s gonna get it and she doesn’t even know it yet.

Diary – 8 March 2009

Went down to the pool today for the “community BBQ. It’s normally fucking lame but guess who was lying there in the tiniest bikini I’ve ever seen. That’s right, Kristy. That’s her name, Kristy. Isn’t that perfect… Kristy. It even sounds blonde. She didn’t tell me that but it’s easy enough to check her mail before she gets home everyday. Kristy McPhee. Kristy and Greg. Spent hours talking to her. Apparently she’s an actress and she moved here from Ohio to get her career going. Weird though, she didn’t take up my offer to show her around. Apparently she’s really busy going to castings. I’ve got a role she can try out for… Ha ha!

Diary – 15 March 2009

Been watching out for Kristy. Tried talking to her a couple of times since the BBQ but she’s always in a rush. Seems like every time she comes out of her apartment she’s running off somewhere. Better get in there fast. I’ve got that sales dinner for work next week… can you imagine how sah-weet it would be if I turned up with a nice piece of tail like that.

Diary – 20 March 2009

Asked Kristy to the sales dinner. She acted like I snuck up on her or something. I mean sure maybe she couldn’t see me behind the tree in the parking lot but it’s just cos she never stands still for five minutes. She was busy for the dinner so I asked her if she wanted to go to Jose O’Flannegens  for Jell-O shots. Starting to think she might be a bit of a stuck-up bitch cos she says she’s never been to Jose O’Flannegens. I can learn to live with that though. I mean once she’s with the Gregster she’ll learn to chill out.

Diary – 4 April 2009

I haven’t seen Kristy in ages. Seems she has some guy who keeps coming over. Looks like one of those surfer-types. Motherfucker be touching my woman. I managed to get her number from old Mrs Kowalski in 203. It was so fucking easy. I just told her that I signed for some mail of hers and I wanted to let her know to come and get it. I called her like 20 times yesterday but she hasn’t called me back. Dunno what is up with that. I invited her around to watch some DVDs, maybe smoke a fattie with me but she’s not going for it. Bitch.

Diary – 10 April 2009

I found the spare key for Kristy’s apartment. Women are so fucking stupid. I mean if she hides it under the mat she’s asking for it. I figured I’d hide out in her bedroom and surprise her. How her how badly I want to be with her and how much more spontaneous I am than surfer-dick. Bitch doesn’t know how lucky she is. She screamed like I was some kind of psycho. Told me to get the fuck out and she was going to call the cops on me. She doesn’t know I copied the key before she demanded that I give it back. She hasn’t even noticed that I took some of her panties as a little love souvenir. Got them under my pillow right now.

Diary – 14 April 2009

I let myself into Kristy’s apartment today. I felt kinda bad for taking her panties so I thought I’d put them back and then I’d show her how I really feel with a little art. So I painted a big red heart on her bedroom wall with our names together under it. Left some handprints as well, leading to my apartment so she  knows where to find me. I can’t wait.

Diary – 15 April 2009

That fucking bitch. She just doesn’t get the concept of romance.I can’t fucking believe her. She sent her pussy boyfriend around to threaten me. Like I’m going be scared of some surfboard carrying loser. Apparently she’s now moving because I keep “harassing” her. Harassing? Crazy bitch. Little does she know, I put a tracker on her piece of shit car. I’m gonna know exactly where she’s going and as soon as she settles in, I’m gonna get rid of surf-boy and keep her all for myself. My dad always said I was a go-getter. That’s what he used to call me Go-Getter Greg and that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna go get her.

Mixtape – May ‘09

Band Boy may have turned out to be a completely useless creature but I still like his monthly play list idea. So here are the tunes for May.

Woman In Chains, Tears For Fears feat Oleta Adams – I have no idea how I forgot this band. They’re beyond epically amazingly brilliant. Roland Orzabal’s voice is unparalleled.

Ridin’, Chamillionaire feat Krayzie Bone– If anyone doesn’t know the strange story behind this song. Check it out here.

Spiderwebs, No Doubt – Recently saw Gwen and the boys jumping around like loons on American Idol and had to revisit my youth

Last Of The American Girls, Green Day – Busy getting into the new Green Day album. This is the song that keeps sticking,

The French Open, Foals – Foals just make me wanna daaaaaance…

I Was A Lover, TV On The Radio – This month’s inspirational song. Kicked off one of the best flashes I’ve ever written

5 Rebeccas, The View – The one I love the most has turned into a junkie!

Stripped, Depeche Mode – I’m a serious 80’s kick and nothing says 80’s synth like Depeche Mode

All I Want Is More, Reel Big Fish – Although this song relates in no way to me being chucked by Band Boy… it did immensely cheer me up at the time. Nothing like upbeat ska with deathly bleak/hateful lyrics

Lovesick, Friendly Fires – Getting into them now… it appears otherwise I’d be missing out

Tiger Phone Card, Dengue Fever – I really shouldn’t like Dengue Fever… it’s 60’s inspired Cambodian pop for fuck sake but OMG, I cannot stop listening to this band.

Bulls Make Money, Bears Make Money, Pigs Get Slaughtered, Chiodos – In all their overdramatic, wailing glory. “In a world where every girl wants to be a model. What’s wrong, babe? Didn’t daddy give you enough attention?”

If you want to listen to (most) of my playlist (they don’t have Dengue Fever), you can check it out on le Spotify.

Tears For Fears, circa 1983... when people knew how to dress

And my journey through film begins with A…

When I first got Frank (my Mac book, for new readers) just over a year ago, Fabio was kind enough to take away my external hard drive (which he named Paprika) and load her up with loads of lovely programmes for Frank as well as about 400 films that he’s collected over the years.

I regularly plug Paprika in with the intention of watching a film and then become overwhelmed by how long and often unidentifiable the list is and I end up watching something I’ve already seen 20 times. What a waste! I figure there must be some absolute gems on there that I jut haven’t bothered to uncover. So I made a resolution, this bank holiday weekend to watch every single one of the films on that hard drive that I haven’t already seen in alphabetical order, with no excuses.

I’m not sure how long it will take me but I’ve made a pretty decent start. Over the weekend I watched:

A History Of Violence, starring Viggo Mortensen and Ed Harris about a normal small town dad whose identity comes into question when he prevents a robbery in his diner using deadly force. You can see clearly that it has been adapted from a graphic novel, which is a genre of film that I love but the back story is hazy and it lacked a bit of meat on its bones.

Silence... I kill you!

A Scanner Darkly “starring” Keanu Reeves, Robert Downey Junior, Woody Harrelson, Winona Ryder and Rory Cochrane (who, as always, steals the entire film). This is an interesting one because it was made with animation laid over live action film, giving it this weird semi-real, twitchiness, which fits this futuristic Philip K. Dick adaptation perfectly. Exploring the nature of addiction and identity, I absolutely loved it. Definitely worth another look.

Lookit, I'm a much better actor when they make me into a cartoon

Across The Universe starring Evan Rachel Wood and Jim Sturgess. I had no idea this was a musical until one of the characters randomly burst into song.  Set in new York in the 70’s this is a “make love not war” Beatles inspired debacle of a film. It attempts to be psychedelic but falls pretty flat and not even a laughable cameo from Bono or Eddie Izzard in a tophat can save it.

Beware hippies, the merwitch is coming to get you!

Aeon Flux, starring Charlize Theron and Johnny Lee Miller. I feel like I’ve seen this plot before… about 400 times. Future society controls everyone. Rebel underground forces attempt to overthrow then and find that a terrible secret is being hidden. This was a two hour long excuse to put Charlize in ridiculously skimpy outfits and make her do cartwheels. About as original and inspiring as the latest Coldplay album.

Crouching tiger, hidden nipples

I will continue to keep you posted as I get through the list… maybe once a week a little catch-up. Excited for tonight… Akira… I love anime… *GLEE*

Summer kicks off in London

Londoners appreciate summer like nowhere else I’ve seen on earth. The minute the sun comes out and the temperature breaks 20 degrees, the air is instantly perfumed with bbq, the little summer dresses and baggies come out and every beer garden is rammed with Pimms drinking, slightly sunburnt Londoners of every creed saying, “Isn’t it lovely? You don’t think it’s going to rain is it?”

I got in my bbq requirement for the weekend at the G-Spot on Saturday with Barb, Hilton, B, Kolbe and Ant. It ended up being noisy, a little bit drunken and of course, at the hands of Kolbe, the food was delicious. However, I had a headache that got worse and worse and worse until eventually when we decided to hit the Puzzle, I had to concede defeat and go to bed. It seems I missed quite a party.

Yesterday, I decided to go for the beer garden option and joined Dawn, Emma, Adam, Dan, Gemma, Kerry, Pete and a couple of others at the Boat House for a few drinks. It appears we had wandered into the middle of some kind of arts festival that made me wonder if we’d collectively taken acid and forgotten about it.

There was a guy operating a remote controlled, life-size mechanical horse that neighed and breathed fire. It reminded me of something from a Marilyn Manson video. As much as I can appreciate the unusual art form that the horse was… I’m not entirely sure it was appropriate entertainment for children in the middle of the afternoon. This was followed up by a gypsy-esque band made up of the most random group of people I’ve ever seen in my life… including a large man in a dress and an elderly woman wearing a Spice Girls style glitter-spangled dress. In between there was much bad dancing. We ummed and ah-ed most of the afternoon and early evening about going out and eventually decided that we would actually rather just head home and crash. Massive girls night out planned for next weekend though!

In other news, welcome to our new housemate, Wil, who moved in on Saturday and seems to be settling in rather well. Well, he hasn’t throttled any of us yet, so that’s a starting point! Lol!

Cage the Kentuckyite… and other fantasies

Last night Josh, Niamh and I went to see Cage The Elephant at KOKO in Camden. Niamh was running a bit late so Josh and decided to pop into the pub for a quick drink. Turned out to be the right idea since that happened to be the pub where Matt Schultz (Cage The Elephant vocalist for those not in the know) and friends decided to play a quick pre-gig game of pool. I was complete star-hammered (nevermind struck). I’m not entirely sure what I said to Matt… although I know it was lame and fangirly (I did manage to hold in asking to lick his accent) but he was impossibly sweet, not quite as little as he looks onstage and he gave me the biggest hug ever. Here we are. He looks befuddled by fangirl… I look deranged and ginger.  Happy days.

We got into KOKO in perfect timing for their set. The audience was mental but politely. I briefly had a gig boyfriend but when he realised I wasn’t so sure about his advances, he moved onto a new girl. Bless ‘em both. We lost Josh in the crown surfing melee but Niamh and I leapt around like loons through what seemed like a woefully short set. It wasn’t. It went on for ages. Matt had told me before that they were “gunna do nineteen saaaawngs” (imagine Kentucky accent). The new material was gorgeous but the band seemed subdued compared to The Scala show. Nothing takes away from Matt’s drunk tranny dancing though and In One Ear, Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked and Free Love were riotous. Of course the man took his shirt off and fling himself into the crowd, just above Niamh and I. And of course we kept him upright and safe. We may or may not have decided to grab his bum at the time. If by chance we had performed such an action, I could say it was a very nice bum. One wonders though, is this the kind of transgression (if performed) that lands on in hell. Here’s a little video I did of Backstabbin’ Betty. Photos are here.

Post show we headed to Gans Bar for sangria, which is logical after a gig. There were heated debates about Nirvana songs before we headed to the Middle Eastern place next to the Cuban for peppermint tea (divine) and strawberry shisha. We made friends with some hilarious Irish randoms but the last train called and I couldn’t stay for whatever chaos might have ensured.

Ah Camden and bank holiday weekends. I love you so.

Even the best things must come to an end

Today is the last official day of the Playboy Mansion. It was one year ago bank holiday weekend when this photo was taken that our little house in deepest darkest South West London was officially named by a random boy.

Since then the four residents, Michelle, Barb, Kelly and I have  laughed together. We’ve danced together. We’ve drank together, cried together, holidayed together and from dirty pirates to the 80’s worn way too much fricking fancy dress kit together.

But all good things must come to an end and tomorrow Michelle goes on holiday in New York and then moves out of the mansion for good. It’s going to be very strange not hearing her singing along to her music in her room or shouting “wake up, wake up you lazy bastards” through the house to get us up on the weekends. I’ll miss the philosophical debates and the hours of mindless reality TV and fashion obsession. Mich… we’re going to miss you so much.

On Saturday we officially allow boys back in the clubhouse. That’s right, kids… our new housemate is a boy called Wil… or maybe… Hef… I’ll keep you posted.

I’m really enjoying your toilet area

I managed to get yet another text published in the London Lite. I really wish they paid for them. Someone texted in on Monday saying: ‘Sat down on the train, man next to me said, ‘what a lovely bounce!’ Most offensive chat up line ever?” Of course I can top that… I mean I am the original freako magnet and so I replied back with: “Offensive chat-up lines? Having coffee with friend in Soho, passer-by says, ‘you’re f-ing hot. If you weren’t a lesbian I’d so try it on with you.” Of course this is in reference to the now famous Twitch incident. I probably would have done just as well if I dug out the biggest clanger ever from my past.

When I was about 22, I was out at the Baron & Cobbler in Bedfordview (where we were every single Friday night for at least a year) and a guy come up to me, grasped my bottom and said, “I am really enjoying your toilet area.” I am not joking. It actually happened. I responded with, “You’re robbing a village of its idiot!” and swiftly moved away. I will never forget it.

I have not actually seen my text in the London Lite. I was having a coffee with a friend yesterday evening and by the time I went to get on the train they were all gone. It was Kelly who informed me that I was once again famous (Red, SW18… that’s me baby) and that she would keep the paper for me. Unfortunately on her way home a small child was sick on Kelly and the paper was in the right place at the right time providing a perfect vom barrier. Kelly says this is proof that my writing saves lives. I say it’s proof that small children don’t belong on public transport.

Fortunately, my colleague, Jason has promised me a copy. I look forward to it!