Wednesday, May 31, 2006

German Love

The cake broke! Oh no!
Originally uploaded by fluor.
So you know how you imagine how something is going to look in your head? And it doesn't usually turn out exactly like that.

Well, my ideal plan for the DJ Tea and MC Cake set was to involve Dave the Machine taking a big gulp of bubble mixture, and then regurtitating it like a mother-bird feeding a baby-bird into Daniel Freakin' Taylor's mouth, who would then gargle with the bubble liquid whilst I knelt on the floor next to them reading Daniel's poem, "German Love"

German Love

Eyes should be brown or blue
Hair dark. sound attitude
Back straight, don't shirk technique
Make love once then repeat

Ready to dare and trust
No Aries or Taurus
People with kids don't apply
You've played the field, I don't mind

You will have German Love
I want your German Love

If you're still reading this ad
You might get what I have
You're loyal and such a flirt
Must see photograph first

Don't lie; height, build or age
Two dates, numbers exchanged
One look then I will grade
Have you goods you can trade?

You will have German Love
I want your German Love

* * *

As it happened, everything I had ever hoped came true that night in the Volks. Me, DJ Tea, Rosanne, Daniel Taylor, Dave the Machine, Anna and Becca converged upon the Volks, where we listened to some pounding pounding breakcore, before, armed with spoons and electrical devices, Tea and Cake begun in the downstairs room. The usual tortured bokecore jitterings of Tea and Cake filled the room, along with dancing gimps, breakcore mentalists and psy-trance ravers, sponges and teaspoons flying through the air, and Rosanne running around the place electrocuting people with the electric device. The interlude took place about half way through. It worked perfectly, and with the added spectacle of making Daniel Freakin' Taylor boke up all over the floor.

We finished with the Water and Rats song, and then somehow managed to persuade the audience to lie on the floor as a sign of their appreciation (I don't know why, but DJ Tea just doesn't like clapping, and lying on the floor is so much more expressive)

Splendid evening. Splendid. Previously we went to a Victorian night in Lewes and Daniel successfully gargled with bubbles and read his German Love poem to Andy Chef and a man with a video camera and Rosanne drew a little scampi and the gaunt Professor Elemental


Mr. Beefy
Originally uploaded by The Enid Complex.
So I have three events to document today.

In reverse order.

The weekend that's just happened. Spring Camp.

The tuesday that wasn't yesterday but the one before. DJ Tea and MC Cake.

And the wet weekend that hasn't just happened but was the weekend before that. The Firegathering.

So. First things first (chronologically, that is), last weekend (not the one that's just happened but the one before that) we went to this wee little festival in the local area (well, close enough.. it was next to Gatwick airport, or at least close enough to say "Look at that low plan! Fine, then..." every five minutes or so, if we had wanted to).

It's organised by Will the Jug who is a really tall fellow who looks a bit like a Toby Jug and splashes water out of his head like in the Wasp Factory but a bit less gross. He's also a juggler. Me and Anna and Maya got on the train and travelled up to Three Bridges as Maya told us about her parents' sex lifen and we drank beers and ate falofel. At three bridges we met some other people going to the festival including Ben and Talia (?), and Adam who used to know Arthur and, it turns out, can throat sing, and can throat sing in a Heavy Metal way. Adam is cool.

So we got there after a traumatic six-person taxi ride with a lost taxi driver, and as we arrived in this field it begun to rain, but we put our tent up and strolled around the site. Big tents, one with a stage in it, the other with a tea-shop. I bumped into Nicky who is a light hearted Freudian with journalistic ambitions, she was wearing her scarf that looks like her hair and makes her talk like Elton John. They also had this unusual glass-house esque complex which had a boarded-over swimming pool and a hot tub (not boarded over). We sat down in the tea-shop tent and had cups of tea with some of the people we had met including the girl who works in the Hope who I keep IDing and some other girl who had mud-poi and whose name I can't remember, and ended up getting accidentally really stoned. Stumbling around a bit confused and it still raining a bit and then Andy K and Evelyn and Steve! turn up, together with a big italian coffee machine that Andy bought from a closing down gourmet cafe the previous weekend and has converted to run on bio-diesel.

As the evening goes on we sip at pints of ale from the bar and drink gin and tonics and sit to watch a band, but they seem to spend about an hour tuning up and so we wander on.

Will the Jug really wants me to read some poems during the festival and I assure him that I will when I get the chance

So what ends up happening is that me and Anna kind of flake out a bit and go to bed at about half past two. When we get up in the morning the rain is stopping and we find Maya writhing in the hot tub all twitching and wild eyed "it was cold but it's warming up..." she was keeping a low profile and playing it cool and I think she got away with it. we share some kind of vegetarian breakfast and maya eats some raw carrots and shows us her new found friends who feed us drugs for lunch but they don't affect us that much. we drink gin and tonic and wander about. the sun is now up. but however the previous night has left the site muddy as it is and my pixie boots are pretty ruined already (they are sort of converse-esque shoes and made of canvas, they are known as pixie boots because the ends seem to point upwards, in the manner of a medieval gentleman, or, so I must assume from the name, some kind of pixie. a quote "just look at Frank Black! who says tubbers can't be rock 'n roll stars!") and so I decide to walk around in bare feet which works well until I am stung all over the soles of my feet by nettles

so the day goes on and we sip at ales and Will the Jug urges us to go see a cabaret and then something happens, we are sitting on a straw bale and maya has fallen asleep in her tent for a bit and we see Andy K and Evelyn and then suddenly Andy K is buying loads of acid off some man and he is licking acid off his hand and evelyn goes "Bloody Andy! he's buying acid... That's my breakfast money!!" andy emerges spiralling and Evelyn admits that actually it's quite tempting "I'm going to have to be his carer for the next ten hours" we watch a bit of a rage against the machine covers band called Bad Science for a bit and then as we leave the stage bit we see two guys spinning fire whilst naked. that was cool. we sit round the fire and i'm a bit confused and seeing all these unusual colours and then suddenly Will tries to get me to read some poems but I'm not really in the right state of mind and then we wander more around and the glasshouse has become some kind of flared out acid disco which is intense in some ways and quite unexpected in others

the next morning steve! can give us a lift home and so we pack our things and go and find maya and she is in the hot tub and "still feeling the party" so off home we go and leave maya in a field

as she is out me and anna sit in her bed and watch films and drink gin and tonic. we call Tom. he is at All Tomorrows Parties watching Andy destroy curtains

Monday, May 22, 2006

Red/Green Colourblindness

Red/Green Colourblindness
Originally uploaded by Dolores Luxedo.
as a supplier of lo-fi, bad and otherwise unprofessional photography personally, I think I prefer bodies to buildings, especially when there isn't any black and white. I love the garish colour and the trimmed off body part.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Lame Joke no. 263

You're so fat they don't need to write Chubb on your door key.

and the band played on...

Flower of DORAEMON
Originally uploaded by secondimpacttaro.
It's been a hectic weekend. Dude, it's been a hectic weekend. It's Thursday today. It has been a busy weekend.

So on Friday it was Dave the Machine's birthday. Except I was working in the pub and so rather than celebrating 25 years of Machine, I served drinks to those celebrating this momentous day. Dear God. Tom doesn't even remember being in the Evening Star and he was there for 4½ hours. Maya leaning over the bar saying; "You've got really beautiful eyes. I'm serious. Really beautiful" to Jo who was trying to serve three customers at once. Daniel Taylor placing the entire contents of his pockets (about £8 and a signed photo of Wheelie Willy the Disabled Dog) on the bar and demanding "a mix of all the spirits" for Dave the Machine. Alice and Rosanne drinking a bottle of wine each. "Did we? I'm sure we didn't."

So work I did. Ah well. Afterwards I took the ukulele and strolled down to Bond Street where they were all sitting in the street wondering what to do next.

Of course the next obvious step was to go down to the Spiegeltent where they obviously wouldn't let us in as it was about to close so we sat outside and Tom covered himself in Nutella and I played the ukulele and we charged people 50p to "Kiss the Nutella Boy!". Tom got one kiss and no money. My jacket is covered in nutella. Maybe I kissed the Nutella boy.

Saturday and I bounded into town on my kangaroo boots in order to 'cover' the street performances day as part of the Brighton Fringe Festival. At one point I fell over in the street because the sole came off the kangaroo boot and I was lying on my back holding an umbrella and the ukulele and Daniel came and put the sole back on the shoe and pulled me upright and then before I knew what was going on I was standing in the middle of this crowd of people holding an ukulele and a big red umbrella and wearing kangaroo boots and I think they must have thought I was some kind of street entertainer. So I started playing the ukulele and bouncing around on the kangaroo boots. Quite limited for a street entertainer but I guess I was kind of on the spot. They seemed to enjoy it anyway.

More wandering the streets (or bouncing about the streets) and then we popped into the Basketmakers Arms for a half and Daniel Taylor went home and got the guitars and then we went off to the Pavillion Gardens for The Meatles.

The Meatles! The world's first meat-themed Beatles covers band! Aftr a shaky start, we got into the swing of things, and decided to move to the crossroads in the middle of the Pav Gar for the performance. Here's a brief setlist (as far as I can remember)

Strawberry Veal Forever
Being for the benefit of Mr Tripe
Grey Kipper
Whilst my abbatoir gently seeps
She's got a chicken to fry
I wanna hold your ham
Let it Beef

I think we did one more but I can't remember what it was. About half way through (I think it was as we were about to play Grey Kipper) this stumbling drunk man came along and begun muttering about drainpipes and heckling us. And then he called me fat and punched me in the stomach. And then Jacob told him to go away and so he wandered off. Other than that the Meatles went really well. Then we were cooking some food a bit later at Anna's house and this completely crazy guy called Konrad showed up from Canada.

The face of the teenage heartthrob is about to change. Konrad is intense. He wanders around constantly smoking and with a can of Stella in his hand, wanders off at a moments notice and is really rude to people all the time. In other words, he's incredible.

We went to go see some fireworks in Preston Park. They were quite good. And then we stood around for ages and Anna got hit by a frisbee and then we wandered around and picked up Colin and ended up in some kind of somersault rally and I think I somersaulted too far for I hit my head on a grass verge and then we were going to go to a party with Colin but we didn't and we went to the Hobgoblin but it turns out I am actually barred from the hobgoblin for having an identical twin and so me and Anna went to the Belle Vue and then we sat there for about an hour and then went home before something disasterous happened.

Sunday. 254 Morris Dancers. Keith Trampleasure in a jester outfit. Othello. Half-breed jokes.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

bugs lice termites sandfleas roaches potato bugs grub worms stinger bees spiders ticks and blow-flies

Is Daniel...
Originally uploaded by Dolores Luxedo.
quick cup of tea before neighbours. In the front room Tom is trying to fix the potato cannon he made a couple of years ago. A large grey plastic tube gushes out flame. Tom clicks an adapted gas-cooker-igniting device, which sparks the gas in the tube. Gouts of flame spurt. Meanwhile, in Tom's room, watched over by a yellow dog in high heels, Andy and Rosanne gaze transfixed at the artily composed photographs from a man who calls himself "Canadian Cock".

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Gaunty and the Tubber

She was cello shaped
He was more like a bow
And a beautiful sound emerged
As he rubbed his horse hair
Against her cat gut


hey you...
Originally uploaded by bumpoowilly.
Okay so I have to confess, I have been very slack on the old Blogguing front lately, and it isn't just because nothing has happened.

So hopefully I shall have a bit more blog action soon to go over what the dickens has been going on over the last month or so.

This may include;
- fish-head-spearing by my mother
- the "beanbag"
- nick eating a mouthful of midges
- schenkferleir rauchbier
- riding on a souped up double decker bus with the cast of othello in a hot-tub and four ladyboys
- getting "happy slapped" on southover street
- meeting Héléne Cixous
- picnics, boomerangs and a big grey dog
- being attacked by a Pomeranian
- Tomas Straussler
- ten reasons not to keep a cuttlefish as a pet
- "don't forget the fuel!"
- the Brighton Morris Men's recruiting committee
- Dave the Machine's little dancing legs
- being photographed sureptitiously by Anna's family
- Ginger Skatey Tom
- Homebrew no. 3
- Stealing little Annie Hell's house keys
- roof gun deckchair breakbite party
- "get yourself a pineapple! treat yourself!"
- probably the last party we ever have
- possibly interrupting some kind of neighbour sex orgy
- Usually coming round for dinner
- and a full complement of steam vehicles, poets with unusual voices, the monotony of juggling and Anne Frank jokes.

Watch this space. But not too closely. Just wanted to say Hi, really.