Man, I just suck at relaxing. Had a quiet weekend lined up to help recover from the previous one... but decided at around 3pm on Friday to go see the Polysics play Camden Barfly. This meant roughly the following:
Friday night, finish work, beers with the lads, home for food, rush food, collect girlfriend, change, head to Glasgow Barfly for the motherfucking Dirtbombs, who rock like the proverbial bastard, as always. Avail myself of freebie Gorillaz T-shirts in honour of the new album release, drink way too much cider, head home around twelve. Pack. Up at half four to head for the airport. Pick up pickup truck from work, drive to Prestwick, dump truck, catch 'plane. Stansted Express cancelled, hop a bus to Central London. Shop. Shop some more. Coffee. More coffee. Fuck this, it's almost 10am, get beer. More beer. Bourbon. Cider. Lunchtime. Go shopping. Design museum, Tate Modern, Photographer's Gallery, Magma, Muji, More beer. Grab sushi, dive out to Camden. Jesus, Camden really is full of stuck-up wannabe hipsters. Drink copiously to survive with sanity intact. hit Camden Barfly around twelve, hook up with the Out With the Old promoter, drink cider from a china cup, pretend I know how to knit. Pop upstairs just in time for Devo's greatest hits. Must be the Polysics intro tape. TOKYO NEW WAVE MUTANT! POLYSICS OR DIE! Hell yeah. Rock and fucking roll. Polysics are still the most hyper-kinetic live act on the face of the planet, and Hayashi is on top form tonight. The place explodes, and even the hipster fuck in the scarf and trilby is pogoing like a loon. Enter ill-advised drinking contest with Hayashi during bass-string-replacement break, choke on my beer, watch Hayashi pour his down his jumpsuit before drooling, making monster claw actions at the audience, and chant "Ningy-ningy!" for nigh on ten minutes, before balancing his guitar on his head and running into the speaker stack to make feedback. He then completes his solo by bashing the guitar off the bald head of an NME photographer. What a guy. Polysics finish and leave the stage to chants of "YOU FUCKING MENTALIST!". Time for a drink. Many drinks. Bourbon, gin, vodka, cider. 1am, 2am, 3am, the joint is jumping to the sounds of Kenny Rogers and Wire, amongst others. The knitting circle starts to look appealing, time to head. Outta there, run the gauntlet of unlicensed taxicabs into the City. Sleep, glorious sleep. Shopping and drama ont he way back up to Glasgow, and another weekend passed without incident.
Oh aye - the new tattoo is healing, slowly. So much solid black, it's taking a while. Ten days and counting. Got it wrapped in ice to keep the swelling and itching at bay. Two-inch thick black band around my right leg, just above the ankle... with "Unspoilt by progress." reversed out of it in 50pt Helvetica Black, set tight as fuck to let the letterforms join together. Bumped into the German guy who tattooed it for me at lunchtime today, and he's none too happy with some of the edge details - wants to do touch-up work as soon as it's fully healed. That'll be another couple of weeks until it's all done then, at least.
Friday night, finish work, beers with the lads, home for food, rush food, collect girlfriend, change, head to Glasgow Barfly for the motherfucking Dirtbombs, who rock like the proverbial bastard, as always. Avail myself of freebie Gorillaz T-shirts in honour of the new album release, drink way too much cider, head home around twelve. Pack. Up at half four to head for the airport. Pick up pickup truck from work, drive to Prestwick, dump truck, catch 'plane. Stansted Express cancelled, hop a bus to Central London. Shop. Shop some more. Coffee. More coffee. Fuck this, it's almost 10am, get beer. More beer. Bourbon. Cider. Lunchtime. Go shopping. Design museum, Tate Modern, Photographer's Gallery, Magma, Muji, More beer. Grab sushi, dive out to Camden. Jesus, Camden really is full of stuck-up wannabe hipsters. Drink copiously to survive with sanity intact. hit Camden Barfly around twelve, hook up with the Out With the Old promoter, drink cider from a china cup, pretend I know how to knit. Pop upstairs just in time for Devo's greatest hits. Must be the Polysics intro tape. TOKYO NEW WAVE MUTANT! POLYSICS OR DIE! Hell yeah. Rock and fucking roll. Polysics are still the most hyper-kinetic live act on the face of the planet, and Hayashi is on top form tonight. The place explodes, and even the hipster fuck in the scarf and trilby is pogoing like a loon. Enter ill-advised drinking contest with Hayashi during bass-string-replacement break, choke on my beer, watch Hayashi pour his down his jumpsuit before drooling, making monster claw actions at the audience, and chant "Ningy-ningy!" for nigh on ten minutes, before balancing his guitar on his head and running into the speaker stack to make feedback. He then completes his solo by bashing the guitar off the bald head of an NME photographer. What a guy. Polysics finish and leave the stage to chants of "YOU FUCKING MENTALIST!". Time for a drink. Many drinks. Bourbon, gin, vodka, cider. 1am, 2am, 3am, the joint is jumping to the sounds of Kenny Rogers and Wire, amongst others. The knitting circle starts to look appealing, time to head. Outta there, run the gauntlet of unlicensed taxicabs into the City. Sleep, glorious sleep. Shopping and drama ont he way back up to Glasgow, and another weekend passed without incident.
Oh aye - the new tattoo is healing, slowly. So much solid black, it's taking a while. Ten days and counting. Got it wrapped in ice to keep the swelling and itching at bay. Two-inch thick black band around my right leg, just above the ankle... with "Unspoilt by progress." reversed out of it in 50pt Helvetica Black, set tight as fuck to let the letterforms join together. Bumped into the German guy who tattooed it for me at lunchtime today, and he's none too happy with some of the edge details - wants to do touch-up work as soon as it's fully healed. That'll be another couple of weeks until it's all done then, at least.
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I'm thinking about suggesting some Mono-Hook-Up-Action on the (late) afternoon of the 30th, does that fly for you?
Nice work with the DJ gig, where's that happening?