I've got a date with John Waters

'Hairspray' my favourite John Waters film, is coming to the West End this year! Although I'm a little nervous to see the remake about to be released (with John Travolta playing the role of the mother that Divine played beautifully in the Waters version) I'm soooooooooooo excited about seeing the stage production. Under this gorgeous exterior lies the campiest of campy queens.

A glimpse into my future...

R.I.P wife, mother..... goat

Rose, the wife of a Sudanese man died last week. She choked on a plastic bag she ate whilst grazing in the street. She was forced into the marriage because she was found fornicating with her owner. Her new husand had to pay a dowry of 15000 dinars for her hoof in marriage. Mr and Mrs Tombe lived a quiet life in the Sudanese burbs until her untimely death. Our prayers are with you Charles Tombe...... you sick sick freak.

I'm having a homesick day, so sue me!

Barca round 2

Last week I went back to my spiritual home, Barcelona to visit friends and just generally kick up my heels. It was so strange going there from here. Its so much more relaxed and everyone just goes about their lives at a much more enjoyable pace. I had to quickly check my Londoner public transport rage at the door because those Catalans were having none of it. Anyways not much to tell. Had a great time, drank too much, nearly didn't get on the plane back here (I left a beautiful sunny 26 degrees in Barca for a cold grey 14 degree London. Someone remind me why I'm here again?!?) The holiday snaps are up and also a few new snaps of London

confessions

I've had this blog for a little while now and I've recently come to the realisation that I can pretty much say anything thats on my mind and no one can stop me. I've never given the address to many friends, so I can say what I like about them. The people that read my blog (with the exception of you my dearest evol) have never actually met me so I can open up my graveyard of skeletons, let my freak flag fly and cut loose (footloose)

So here goes......
As much as I try and deny it, I consider myself somewhat of a music nerd. A musical snob who looks down her nose at those with Take That albums, or those who admit there undying love for that twat Daniel Powter. Funny thing though is that as I profess the genious of Sir Richard Bishop (of Sun City Girls fame) to anyone who will listen, I also have Carpenters records. I've spent many a drunken night telling people of the gloriousness of OOIOO, whilst playing Rumours by Fleetwood Mac at least once a week. And when I gaffawed at someone who had never heard of Animal Collective, what did I listen to the next morning? Dolly Parton. See the thing is that to the average man, Dolly, FM and the Carpenters may seem more embarassing than owning the Grease 2 soundtrack but in reality I have no problem defending the genious of any of these albums. The way that Mick and Stevie layed their tumultuous relationship bare for us all to wallow in was brilliance, and if you've never heard Dolly wailing on Jolene, well then you've never really known heartbreak.

The thing with these artists was that I knew that they were brilliant pieces of important music history that take real investment for people to appreciate. Think about albums like Pet Sounds which is just as brilliant as Sgt Pepper but not even noticed until 30 years past its release date. Same goes for the Kinks Village Green Preservation Society. My latest love though is something I am so ashamed of, I've never confessed its truth to anyone.... until now.

I can't believe I'm admitting this but..... I like Justin Timberlake. Oh God, there, I said it. I like him okay?!? I think he's cute and has this great self depricating sense of humour. Everytime I hear a song of his played I'm inwardly doing the runningman I'm so excited whilst externally moaning more than when my credit card bill comes. I've even found myself flicking through mainstream radio stations hoping to hear it.

Oh man, I can't believe I finally admitted it. I feel so much better. Maybe this will open up the doors for other musical shames to come forward. Oh God I hope not. I just realised theres a Mel and Kim record in my collection that I refuse to own up to.

beauty is pain

shit a brick

A friend just told me that while in New York a few weeks ago doing some VJ-ing he ran into Thurston Moore in a record store and gave him a video of his work. Shit a fucking brick, I'm only 2 degrees of seperation from Thurston. Be warned Kim, he will be mine, oh yes, he will be mine....

acoustical noise..... n shit

The other night Leanne and I went to the Royal Festival Hall to catch the special acoustic tuning event that residents Saint Etienne had put on. It was invite only but seeing as Leanne is the Southbank events manager, she gets freebies to everything so we thought we go along. Thank goodness we did because the show ended up being a fantastic eclectic mix of some of London's best. As well as Saint Etienne (not really my cup of tea. They're too non offensive!) Shlomo (effing brilliant beatboxer) Bert Jansh (Dylanesque folk) Sonic Boom (ex spaceman 3 dude. I love him but I'm sure you can imagine the stuffy old donors crowd that thought he was called Sonic Doom thought. He single handedly decimated the audience) and personal favorite, Billy Childish all played short sets. RFH is going to be brilliant when it re-opens (Leanne is organising the opening party) the sound is pretty much spot on, though there was some echo issues (made worse after sonic boom because the hall was so much emptier) and a bit of unexpected fuzz but all in all the hall is looking fantastic.
I'm really looking forward to the Meltdown festival that Jarvis Cocker is curating. He has put together a great line up and I've wrangled my way into free tickets to SUNN O))) (I'm bragging about this to everyone. If you don't know them, SUNN O))) are a crazy doom/drone metal band thats soul aim is to play music at such a low level that you shit you pants. Literally they aim for the brown note. The last time I saw them I distinctly remember bowel vibrations going on) the Jesus and Mary Chain and also to Jarvis (where I will hopefully get to meet the man himself at which pioint I will more than likely do a SUNN O)))
This Summer is going to be awesome. I can feel it in my waters

slainte!

So I spent the last weekend in a drunken haze in Mighty Belfast. Drinking up a storm, catching up with friends, putting the hard word on this cute gay guy just in case he was curious (some things never change) overall just enjoying the great craic thats there to welcome me every time I spend time in the green isle. All of my friends there are people I've met along the way (mostly Erasmus students in Spain) and are the most lovely people you will meet. Seriously heavy drinkers (there was one drinking game in particular that was played where we consumed around 200 finger widths of alcohol. I wasn't looking pretty the next day) but the most welcoming young'uns (they are all around 20, so I'm the wise old bird when I'm with them) you'll ever come across. Belfast gets a bad rap but I love it. The troubles are all still very real (one of my friends got kidnapped by the IRA a couple months ago and just got away with broken knee caps) but if you look past that, I've found the Northern Irish (because in my mind, they're Irish not British) to be some of the most passionate and generous people I've met. They're so passionate about their history and are so proud about where they come from that I aways feel a bit ashamed that I'm not more vocal about my love of Oz. Its not that I don't love Oz, its just I've never been one to preach about it. I think I actually know more about Irish history and politics than I do about my own history.