I'm the captain of this ship

To quote My Chemical Romance...

"When I was a young boy, My mother took me into the city to see Star Trek III. She said, "Son when you grow up, will you be the editor of a Star Trek magazine?"

And I looked at her with the youthful exuberance of a seven year-old, winked, and replied "you betcha Sparky Ma!"

So yes, I can exclusively reveal here that it was Sparky Ma, way back in 1984, who took her youngest child and created this ... this monster of utter nerdiness. She has no one to blame but herself, bless 'er.

Skip forward to 2007. I'm feeling very captainly today, it must be said; in fact, I feel like I've been imbued by the spirit of Captain Kirk. You might ask how, or you might not care. For those who don't care, well I'm ploughing on regardless. At work I felt restless and fidgety, rather like Kirk at the beginning of Star Trek Generations when he wants to take control of the Enterprise-B from the inexperienced new captain in order to save 240 people on those two passenger ships stuck in the Nexus. Although it might have something to do with the fact that I've started running again and it's made me feel a bit energetic.

It might also have something to do with the fact that I put my captainly skills to good use to complete Star Trek Legacy on the Xbox 360. Just over three weeks - how good is that? I whupped the Borg, then I went online and whupped some kid. And he had a more powerful ship than me. It's all about the tactical skills, y'see.

But it might have something to do with my desire to start a new secret club. I probably shouldn't tell you, but I'm going to anyway.

(looks suspiciously in both directions)

It's Captain Kirk Fight Club (but you can't talk about it, understand).

There's several reasons why Captain Kirk is my favourite Star Trek captain. First of all, he's simply the coolest dude ever. Add to that the fact that he got all the (green-skinned) girls, had the coolest ship ever, and possibly the best form of hand-to-hand combat know to man or best. Ever.

(There's also the fact that my initials are TJ, which was a remarkable piece of foresight on the part of my parents by naming me after another of Shatner's characters, TJ Hooker, seven years before the series started. Shame they never followed through with the deed poll forms to change our surname. For years I kept telling all and sundry that I wanted to be a Hooker.)

So let's review the fighting style.

Step 1:

After walking nonchalently up to his rifle-carrying adversary, note how Kirk applies his palm to the face of the unfortunate hooded alien. Why use a phaser when you can break someone's nose and shove it into their brain?

Step 2.

As if the hooded alien wasn't stunned and humilated enough by having his face wrecked by a middle-aged dude in a sweater with elbow patches, Kirk then takes the somewhat unnecessary, but nonetheless impressive step of bitch-slapping the little punk with the back of his hand. Ouch!

As you can see, there's a definite style here, and one that I think would be served well by a Captain Kirk Fight Club. And to push the point even further, my pal Jo came into possession of a Sci-Fi Channel press kit that she thought would suit me down to the ground. because included within is a piece of wood. But it's not just any piece of wood! It's a special piece of wood.

I'm going to show you my wood now:

Now what's so special about Tim's wood, you might ask? And why does it say 'chop here?'

Well let me tell you. It's special wood, wood that ties in with another unique Kirk-style attack. I quote from the attached Sci-Fi Channel documentation:

"The Kirk shoulder chop. Only get the wood out after you've practised on something softer first."

By that I think they mean someone's face.

So anyway, I'm definitely in training for Captain Kirk Fight Club; I've got the palm attack, the bitch-slap, and the shoulder chop. I'm literally tearing my shirt at the shoulder in anticipation of a bumpy-headed opponent whose name sounds like the sort of noise you make when you're throwing up. As Kirk might say: "Bring... it... ON!"

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And for any bloody pacifists out there wanting to get in on the Captain Kirk Fight Club action, the Sci-Fi Channel kit has something for you too.


It's a squeezy ball on which to practise your Vulcan nerve pinch, you friggin' hippy.

IKEA lovefest 2007

With just over 24 hours to go before the IKEA sale ended, Jo and I hit the store for some last minute AMAZING bargains! Well... we tried, but truth be told the IKEA sale was a bit rubbish - there was nothing that I wanted in the sale, because I've already got a sofa and a bed. And some shelves. And stuff.

But fun nevertheless ensued!

I was once again tempted by the untold beauty of the red LACK, but as reasonable as it is at just £7.99, I can't think why I would need one or where I would put it.


So I just pointed at it a bit.

I also noticed that the toys in IKEA are dirty. Not filthy dirty, pervy dirty. Look - I found two little dogs that were connected top 'n tails for some unknown reason!


They were at it on the floor as well!


And just don't get me started on the polar bears...


So did I buy anything? Hell yeah! I got a little clip-top glass container to put sugar in, and two new pillows. So in IKEA-talk that would be a SLOM and two GOSA BLINKAS then.

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Today's been a rather lovely day actually; very relaxing. Watched the DVD of the Foo Fighters' Hyde Park gig I went to last year, and played a little Xbox.


Somebody shot up my Enterprise.


Drove Darth Vader around a starship in a little white truck.

Panic attack

Earlier this week, on the recommendation of Marsha from Xfm who rated it her second best album of 2006*, I finally relented and picked up a copy of the Panic! At the Disco album A Fever You Can't Sweat Out.

Oh. My. God.

Why the hell have I hesitated for so long? What an amazing album! I can only guess that the reason I hesitated for so long was that I feared they were either:

a) a one-hit wonder; I Write Sins Not Tragedies is an amazing song, and surely they couldn't match that across an entire album, right?
Or...
b) an emo-fied version of Maroon 5.

How wrong I could be - it's a balls to the wall machiavellian pop-rock opera! There's a richness to their sound that I love; layered, orchestral, vaudevillian... I love it! Emo or not, Panic! At the Disco just joined Sufjan Stevens on the list of people I definitely want to catch live at some point.

And the best thing about it? It was in the HMV sale AND I had a bit of cash left on a HMV gift card - I got it for £3.95.

Awesome.

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Something for the weekend...?

An advert on the radio tells me that the IKEA sale MUST end Sunday, so Jo and I have decided to go along on Saturday night to check out some last-minute bargains (IKEA on a Saturday night is definitely the new hang-out place for all us hip young things). Hell, knowing what their prices are like without a sale I'll probably be able to empty the place with just a fiver.

Amyway, japes will ensue - mainly because Jo and I always forget the route on the way there and end up miles away! Throw your hands in the air and shout "Hurrah!"




*Marsha writes an awesome weekly mailout listing, among other things, new gigs and album recommendations that she posts on her myspace page - if you're not on myspace though, email her your address HERE and she'll add ya and you'll get it via email! Do it!!

Fashion, turn to the left…

…Fashion, turn to the right, Oooooooo - FASHION!

Said David Bowie. And as they say on Battlestar Galactica: "SO SAY WE ALL!"

I'm a tad perplexed by fashion these days, I must say. In years gone by I've veered from doing my utmost to adhere to the latest fashion, to sticking to established classics regardless of what everyone else is donning - white t-shirts never go out of style, right?

But now I seem to be willfully disregarding what the media tells me I should be wearing, mainly because I consider 'this season's trends' to be, well, a little bit dorky. That either says something about my particular style (which I seem to have settled into nicely, and may, I'm beginning to wonder, be my dress-code for life from here on in), or that I'm getting old; I'm not sure which is more worrying...

One of the latest trends is, as I'm sure you've noticed, the emo-look (not the little red giggly thing from Sesame Street, I hasten to add). Walk down any high street and the vast majority of men's retailers seem to be pushing the same sort of emo-uniform consisting of sprayed-on jeans and a form of rank cardigan I wouldn't even consider wearing when I'm drawing my pension. As for the spray-on jeans, well, how difficult would they be to pull on in the dark at seven o'clock in the morning when you're rushing to get out the door? Not very, I suspect.

In addition to that, I don't think I've got the figure for skinny jeans; it's not that I'm fat - on the contrary, years of gymming and, of course, the lasting effects of last year's running have given me rather, um, defined thighs that would just look plain weird in skin-tight denim. To quote my favourite line from Serenity: "My muscular buttocks."

(I don't think I'd feel particularly comfortable about every passing stranger making a mental note of 'which side I dress to' either)

So no, fashion retailers of the British high street, I shall not be succumbing to your dictated trends this year. And if my regular uniform of comfortably-fitted, ever-so-slighty baggy jeans matched with a witty-sloganed t-shirt offend you, so be it!

Weird science

A while back - the tail end of last year - I had the most unusual conversation with a barista in Starbucks. In fact, I've been meaning to post about it for a while now, but it's taken this long for my brain to try to comprehend the content of the discussion.

Basically, I was enjoying my grande misto, as I am wont to do, when one of the baristas wandered over to say hello. "Hello," I replied as way of a response. He then asked me when I was finishing work for Christmas, and I said something along the lines of "just a matter of days."

Conversation then turned to the subject of what I do for a living (it would've been very stupid to ask him what he did for a living bearing in mind he'd just served me a coffee). Now, in these instances, I usually respond by giving the very general answer of "I work in publishing," because the words "I edit some Star Trek magazines" often leads to people nodding sagely then scurrying away, particularly if they are pretty girls. That said, "I work in publishing" often leads to the response "oh yeah - porn is it?" followed by a Sid James-style guffaw.

Anyway, chappy responded with "really? What?" and, quite eager to get rid of him and return to staring aimlessly out the window, I just said "Star Trek magazines."

He looked at me with a bit of a blank expression for what seemed like an uncomfortably long few seconds, then smiled and said "aaaah, Spock..." and tried to do a Vulcan salute. "Yeah - Spock," I replied. Now I know how William Shatner must feel when he's approached on the street.

So from that point the conversation took what I can only describe to be a rather unusual and highly unexpected handbrake turn. Because chappy began to describe to me his thoughts on space travel. Initially it was all kind of normal - he basically said that with our current technology we don't have the ability to travel to other planets. Fair enough, and quite true. Then he noted that space travel is impossible because the Van Allen Belt would vapourise anyone who tried to pass through it. "Hang on," I said, "what about the moon landings?"

He looked conspiratorially around, lent in closer, and mouthed the word "faked."

Then he said possibly the most bizarre thing I've ever heard.

"Do you know the only way we can travel to other planets?" I shook my dumbstruck little head.

"We have to wait for another planet to pass by the Earth - then we jump across!"

Now, I'm not a scientist, and 99% of all the science I know was taught to me by Star Trek, but that's ... well, it's totally insane. So what did I do? I nodded in agreement, possibly because I was still painting the picture with my imagination brush of some dude hopping onto another planet and waving goodbye to his family as he disappeared off into the night. That brave little planet-hopping dude!

Returning to my senses, I knocked back the last of my coffee, and began to back slowly away. And as I did, I kept one hand on my phaser - because, mark my words, one sudden move and I was gonna drop that nutter to the floor and run...

You asked for it

Crikey, that title sounds a bit threatening, doesn't it? Don't worry - I'm not going to have you knee-capped just yet (we'll save that for your reactions...).

So here it is - the premise for a new comic book series I came up with. Now, please bear in mind that this is merely a prologue to what the series would be, and as such not too much really happens. Think of it as the pre-credits teaser at the beginning of a TV show. Also, as this is usually the sort of thing I only share with Grum, it might be a bit rough around the edges and not as descriptive as a piece of prose normally would be, or probably should be.

So having bigged it up so much, ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you The Prologue of 'Grenwald the Great'.

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Grenwald woke early on the day he would die. With some assistance from two nurses he first ate a little breakfast, then bathed in a half full, lukewarm bath.
At around nine-thirty, some two and a half hours after his fitful sleep ended, he asked an orderly to push him to his small desk, the one by the window where the morning sun streamed in, where his vintage typewriter waited for him, a blank sheet of paper already inserted in it.
Grenwald stared at the empty page for several minutes, as if he were waiting for the words he had put off writing for so long to appear as if by magic. Suffice to say, they did not, so he laid his hands, misshapen through arthritis, on the keys.
He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and began, with a little effort, to type.
It was immediately after he had typed the last letter of his title – Grenwald the Great: An Autobiography – that the first spasm of overwhelming pain raced through his body.
He did not know where to put his hands – on his chest, or clasp them to the edge of the desk, as if squeezing it might ease the inhuman ferocity of the pain. He gasped for breath, but none came; instead, he heard himself utter a short, sharp squeak. Any other time he might have found the noise amusing.
Strange, thought Grenwald the Great as he began to loose consciousness, that in this, his dying moments, he felt more alive than he had in years…

Grenwald was found, by coincidence, just a few minutes after suffering the immense coronary that would ultimately claim his life, by a young orderly barely out of her teens, pushing a cart loaded with jugs of water and a variety of fruit juices. Knocking gently on the door and entering without waiting to be invited, the inexperienced young girl was ill prepared to deal with what she found. Panicking, she turned on her heel and ran down the hallway shrieking loudly – an effective, if somewhat unprofessional means of raising the alarm.

Grenwald’s body – or rather Grenwald, as their remained at this point in time a small flicker of life within the withered old body – was quickly transferred to the medical ward of the care home, and placed on a cold, sterile bed with an uncomfortably firm mattress. There, Doctors Billingsley and Kellan began to do their utmost to bring him back to life.

And it was at this time, as he lay there surrounded by masked figures plunging all manner of needles and tubes into his tired old body, that Grenwald’s remarkable life, the life he had struggled for years to capture on paper, began to flash before his eyes…

The wheel of fortune

Regular readers will know that I verge on being almost obsessive about supermarkets - the products they stock, the class divide between, say, Lidl (chavvy) and Marks and Spencers Simply Food (posh), and the overall food purchasing experience.

And lately, of course, we obese-obsessed Britlanders have been presented with a new supermarket-based level of entertainment: the health information!

No longer can the fatties just pull whatever they want from the shelves with their pudgy little fingers! No! Now every item must show how healthy it is - or not, as the case may be! There's a variety of systems in use across the different stores, my particular favourite (which I've mentioned before) being the Sainsbury's wheel of health.

This is just genius, because however you look at it, if there's red, it's screaming "FATTY" at you, or at the very least "NOT QUITE AS GOOD FOR YOU AS YOU'D LIKE IT TO BE!"

Imagine my surprise today, then, when I took a closer look at the nice big chocolate truffle bar I bought a while back.


Now, I know chocolate isn't exactly a green-leaf salad, but that, my friends, as if you couldn't see, is an almost totally red wheel of health. Almost unprecedented...

On the plus side, it's green on 'salt,' so I kinda feel it balances out somewhere along the line.

Dinner tonight is a chicken breast wrapped in bacon, which registers four oranges and a green. If I'm not dead by the next time I go to Sainsbury's, I'm definitely going to make it my lifes work to seek out something that's got a completely red wheel. That would be off-the-scale-awesome...

Ka-pow!

...Back with a bang!

Actually, that's a bit of a lie, it's just that I sort of feel like I haven't written anything in a while and I wanted to say "awwwwright" in a Mick Jagger fashion.

...

...

"Awwwwwwright!"

To be honest I've not been up to too much. Truth be told this cold-thing is still lurking around, and my ears are still bunged up by it. I'm not trying to illicit any sympathy (because gawd knows you've all been kind enough to wish me well so far), I just want to shake it.

Or strangle it.

Maybe crush it?

On the plus side I did cough into an envelope that I then sent to my Nemesis, so hopefully that'll do something amazing.

I did go for a run with Sweatband yesterday - five miles up Richmond Hill, then along the river. I must be freakin' nuts, because Sweatband has kicked up to insane-mode in preparation for her marathon training, and seeing as this was my first run in about three weeks and I'm still not feeling 100% she was a spot in the distance within about five minutes. A hardcore, sweary spot in the distance. Fortunately the pay-off was a cup of tea and some time with Jude the dude later.

I've also been playing a lot of Xbox, and by 'playing a lot of Xbox' I actually mean 'living out my long-held Captain Kirk fantasy scenario of controlling the Enterprise and blowing other people's ships up.' It's crazy, I know, but at least it stops me from zooming my model Enterprise around the bedroom while making "whooshing" noises. Erm... if I, um, zoomed my model... er, Enterprise... around...

Hmmm...

So anyway, Star Trek: Legacy is a blast, particularly as I'm getting quite adept at shooting people's warp nacelles off and leaving them adrift in space - muwahahahaha!!!

Another *good thing* is the fact that I'm writing like a man possessed. Every lunchtime since my return to work has been spent sketching out the plot of my forthcoming novel, or to be more precise, writing specific scenes that will be pretty pivotal to the plot; that way, I can type them up and make minor rewrites as I go - hurrah!

In related news... Grum's pondering the action-adventure premise that I wrote last week with a view to doing some character sketches - maybe something I'll whack up on my comicspace page? And I've been thinking about posting the premise up here, because it's reasonably short... anyone interested?

Confused and upset

So the first working week of the new year is over, and how was it?

Well, to tell you the truth it went reasonably smoothly against all expectations. I thought I'd be rushed off my little feet, but I wasn't massively so, and everything's been... OK!

(On the otherhand, I wouldn't say no to a couple more weeks of telly, Xbox, and, well, presents, but you can't have it all, can you?)

On the downside, my Nemesis did call me at the end of play today, adopting his annoying chirpy and happy voice, but I was quite cold and distant and managed to get rid of him before he wanted to end the conversation. He does go on, you see; the sort of conversation that you or I could have in about two minutes he stretches out to about 15. I honestly don't think he's got any friends, and he thinks I'm some sort of substitute. Kind of like when a dog adopts an orphaned lamb. I'm not a dog, however. Think of me more like the farmer about to bang a metal pipe on the lamb's head, cut it up, wrap it in clingfilm, and pop it on a shelf in Tesco.

Where was I? Oh yes. Perhaps the only troubling thing about work this week is that, having started back on Tuesday I'm convinced that today is Thursday, and am worried I'll be on my way to the office at 7am tomorrow. And I'm not even sure 7am even exists on a Saturday. It's things like this that lead to looting and rioting, and before we know it the Earth has plunged into the fiery depths of the Sun.

Boomph!

So that's the confused bit covered - how about the upset.

The upset?

Yes, the upset. THEY. CANCELLED. THE. OC.

Bastards.

To be honest, it pretty much looked like it was on the cards, so it wasn't too much of a shock. Hell, I was braced for Star Trek: Enterprise to be cancelled in the second season, and that went on to four, just as The OC has. The final series starts on E4 next week, so expect an emotional OC retrospective in about 16 weeks - at, I expect, about the same time everyone stops reading this...

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Sainsbury's have been telling me to 'try something different' for a long time now, so I finally took their advice.

I went to Waitross instead.

-----

I did a bit of a double take on the drive home tonight. I went past a shoe shop and was convinced they'd branched out into a new market - cosmetic surgery for the ladies, to be precise. Silly me, though, the sign actually said 'boots reduced!'

First thoughts on Celebrity Big Brother 2007

Forget the celebrities - why the hell was Davina McCall dressed like a combination of Batman and Sue White from Green Wing?

Writing is fun!

Continuing my enthusiastic return to the world of writing for fun, I did, in fact, write up what I said I was going to write up last night, and also read back over the start to the novel that I wrote sometime last year. Surprisingly, I'm quite pleased with this initial chapter, although I will say that in my haste to get things out of my brain and onto the computer I sometimes tend to rush them and they end up a lot shorter than they actually should be. Hence the reason that that my first chapter is about a side and a half of A4.

But hell, that's what re-writing is for, huh? The only downside is that, historically, I hate re-writing my own text. Although as I've had to re-write and edit text I've written quite a lot in recent months at work (to fit the page, not because it was crap), maybe I've grown a bit more accustomed to it. We'll have to wait and see post-February, I suppose.

And in related news, I spontaneously signed up to ComicSpace last night (link over there - in the, um, link bar-thingy). As if you couldn't guess, this site is like MySpace - but for comics! They're promising that you'll soon be able to host your own comics on the site, which is great, and yet another incentive to throw myself back into the writing like Dawn French throwing herself into a ball-pit full of Terry's chocolate oranges.

So, still looking and sounding chipper on the writing front - tomorrow's lunchtime will be spent beginning to plot a coherent roadmap of the narrative, so that come February 1st I can just dive right in like the aforementioned Ms French. Paint me excited!

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Today also marks exactly eight days since I remarked that I hadn't been ill at all in 2006, and exactly a week since I was struck down by the evil ailment I'm still suffering from now. Fortunately, it also seems that I've turned the corner and am feeling much better, and am getting some quality snot action going.

Of course, there are several downsides to being ill, not least the fact that when you live on your own there's no one to complain to in order to get some quality sympathy. Texting your mum 'Dnt feel well bttr nt come round l8r' doesn't generate quite the same response as actually standing in front of her in all your shivering, snotty glory and asking for a hug. And posting about it on the blog doesn't quite work either, because no matter which font I use (even if it is in italics) you couldn't tell that I'd lost my voice.

It's not all doom and gloom though; while I may not have had the chance to get out for any post Christmas/New Year exercise, the constant coughing is proving to be quite the workout for my abdominal muscles.

Abs of steel!

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Why don't they rename E4 the Friends channel? I'm sure they finished showing the final season last week, and yet they now appear to be showing them ALL OVER AGAIN. Can't they show 15 episodes of Scrubs per day instead?

Don't get me wrong, I used to love Friends. But now it's kind of lost its appeal; the early episodes look horrifically dated, and I'm growing to loathe the characters. Monica? Obsessive-compulsive wench. Chandler? Unfunny. Ross? Annoying, ya-huh?

And if any of my neighbours just strolled into my home and raided the fridge while dispensing a carefully-scripted witicism I'd subject them to my punch-punch, overhead kick combo.

I always prefered Frasier, anyway...

Marcosy and I were chatting about sitcoms the other week, and he made the controversial statement that the traditional sitcom is dead. And truth be told, he's probably right. Look at something like My Name is Earl. It's shot like a normal drama, and dispenses with the hackneyed laughter track that's blighted sitcoms since one caveman bopped another one on the head with a club.

That's not to say that a traditional sitcom is doomed to fail these days - it's just that the game has moved on a bit.

And as if to prove Marcosy's theory, some Hollywood exec mirrored his comments in the paper at the weekend. Quick - someone ask him this week's lottery numbers!

A year on my own and not yet dead

The title says it all really - it's a year since I moved out of Ma and Pa's and into Sparky Towers, and the beginning of a new life as a real, proper, grown-up homeowner. And in that time I've been successful in not killing myself.

How awesome is that?

Y'see, I half expected to do something resulting in personal injury at some point. I was awfully pleased when I found out that Sparky Towers doesn't have gas, as I feared that would lead me to blowing myself up. I've also successfully dealt with washing clothes and dishes, hoovering and other assorted household chores, and matching up my socks properly (they're all predominantly black you see, and YOU CAN tell when they're not correctly paired).

I've also neither gained nor lost a disproportionate amount of weight, do not live on a diet of ice cream and crisps, and nothing in the fridge is on the verge of developing intelligence and rudimentary motor skills.

So all in all I've rather proud of myself. And there's only 29 years left to go on the mortgage - hurrah!

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Today was also the first day back to work after the Christmas break (which went by far too quickly, I should add). Still suffering from the bizarre ailment that struck me down last week, I briefly considered taking the day off sick, but there were two reasonably decent reasons not to:

1. There's actually a fair bit of work to do.
2. Can you imagine trying to convince people that I actually was ill upon my return, and that I wasn't just 'chucking a sicky' like the rest of London apparently did.

Instead I stumbled into work, coughed and sneezed and lot, and snotted in my hand once. I think that's the convincing part sorted.

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A plus side of 'the first day back' was that I shuffled down to Secret Starbucks at lunchtime with my old writing pad of story ideas. Reading back through some of my ideas from last year was quite an eye-opening experience, because, I'm amazed to say, some of them are actually kinda good (if I do say so myself), or at the very least worthy of taking a second look at. Of course, there's the novel outline I plan to expand upon in February, but there's also a couple of micro-stories that I wrote (but didn't submit) for the micro-story competition last year. What stood out the most, however, was a premise I wrote for an action-adventure character I came up with. I genuinely liked what I'd written, which makes a change.

That being the case, I'm going to spend a bit of time this evening typing and tidying it up. This is the year, my friends, this is the year; as Denny Crane would say: "lock and load!"

Quick - to the future!

So we're within spitting distance of 2007, and what does that mean? Well, it means that the future is almost here.

And the future, according to Back to the Future Part II, tells us that we're just a few years away from flying cars, self-drying, talking clothes, and hooverboards. Hurrah!

To be honest, though, I was kind of expecting that all to happen when we moved from 1999 into 2000; I seriously thought that everyone was all of a sudden going to be wearing silver foil clothing and booking holidays to the moon. As you might imagine I was a tad disappointed when that didn't happen.

So, preparing myself for any further disappointment I've popped the Bacofoil back in the kithcen drawer, and I've been thinking about some more realistic expectations for the year ahead...

First of all, after a discussion with my mate Jo last week, we've decided that we're going to try to do some more things that just "reduce us to belly-laughs." I don't know what that means exactly, but we're going to keep our eyes open for belly-laugh potential.

Next up, inspired by Dinah who signed up to the November novel-writing event back in, um, November, I'm going to throw myself back into my writing. I really loved the idea of writing a novel in November, but what with that being the month of my birthday it was sort of inconvenient. So, I've decided to dedicate February to the novella I started writing earlier this year. Everyone hates Feb, so I thought it would be a good time to do it. I'm initially going for quantity over quality, with the idea being that I can go back over it later to edit and re-write. They'll be more about this in February, I expect.

And finally (at least for the mo'), I think after nearly eight years I'm going to ditch my gym membership and take up running full time. Sweatband has gotten into the London Marathon in 2007, and hinted that she might need a training partner. So if I can get marathon-fit without actually having to do the marathon, I can't see how I can lose.

So there you have it... my initial hopes for the year ahead. Won't it be amusing if this time next year I'm writing about my time as a fat, miserable, failed novelist? Oh, how we'll laugh!

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Anyways, to everyone who's stopped by my humble ickle blog over the course of 2006, thank you so much for reading my drivel and taking the time to leave witty and insightful comments. You're all great.

Have a happy, healthy, and safe New Year - I'll see you on THE OTHER SIDE!!!!!!

A fever you can't sweat out

I'm not usually a fan of the week between Christmas and New Year; the week before Christmas - great. The week after, not so good, probably because of the impending doom of having to return to work. But this year I've disliked it for an entirely different reason.

I've been ill. Bah!

Christmas Day and Boxing Day I was as perky as a porn star's titties. Wednesday though... God, even the thought of it sends a shiver down my spine. I woke up during the night and sensed a little sore throat. Thought nothing of it and went back to sleep. Woke up around 10 in the morning with a full-on sore throat. Got up intending to stick to my routine of Xbox and telly - it is technically a holiday after all - but steadily got a bit more... well, ill, throughout the day.

By four in the afternoon I was sitting in bed reading my book. By half four I was in bed with a freaky fever the likes of which I've never experienced before; I kept having hallucinations of Lego Star Wars II, although that could possibly have something to do with having played Lego Star Wars II too much. I slept through till about 10 at night, then sat in the bathroom as close to the toilet as humanly possible because there seemed to be every chance that I might go all Linda Blair and redecorate the entire house green (I didn't, fortunately). After half an hour by the toilet (during which time I decided I really don't like the lilac paint that the previous owner painted the bathroom and resolved to change it at some point in the New Year) I returned to bed and slept fitfully through until 10:30 Thursday, when I discovered that although the fever had gone the sore throat remained.

Anyway, I quarantined myself in Sparky Towers for a couple of days, and only ventured out for the first time on Friday when I popped out to collect my comics. It was only as I walked into the shop that I realised I hadn't spoken to anyone in two days, and I wasn't sure I even could.

"Hello!" I squeaked, sounding every bit like a spotty teenager whose voice is breaking. Arse, I thought, as my comic shop pals laid into me for all the comedy value it was worth. Good times.

So now I STILL don't have my proper voice back, but I do have a sexy husky voice. Makes me wish I'd recorded my bit for that Radio 2 Star Trek documentary now rather than a year ago. Quick! Get me a radio gig! Some voiceover work? How about an adult chatline?!


(By the way - I took the post title from the Panic! At the Disco song of the same name. Question: is the Panic! At the Disco album any good? I'm tempted to buy it because I'm strangely drawn to their overly-wordy emo-trappings, but I'm a tad concerned that I Write Sins Not Tragedies could be their only decent song...)

2006: The year in reviews!

So with the year almost up, I'm going to jump on the bandwagon of every TV show and magazine and take a look back at my favourite bits from the past 12 months. So read on, dear reader, to find out what my, um, favourite bits were!

Books!
Because I read so much, this could've been one of the most hard-fought categories. As it turns out, it was actually quite easy to pick my faves...

3. The Motel Life by Willy Vlautin
I know I shouldn't, but I'm often attracted to books by their covers. This is a case in point. Here was a simple yet vivid cover illustration that just pulled me in, and I'm glad it did. Written by the lead singer of Richmond Fontaine, this book focuses on two brothers who flee town after one is involved in a hit and run accident. What follows is a somewhat endearing tale of how they came to be in their present situation, from the heartbreak of their childhood to the hardships of adult life, with each chapter opening with a simple illustration that helps bring life to the drama that unfolds. OK, it's a relatively simple story and quite a quick read, but it was one of those books that I found I'd read only a chapter at a time because I simply didn't want it to finish, and there ain't much higher recommendation than that.

2. It's Superman! by Tom De Haven
Obviously influenced somewhat by Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (which if you haven't read it, do), this novel re-tells Superman's origin story, but from the point of view of if it was set in the depression of 1930's America. This book really surprised me, because quite frankly it could've been a load of old tosh; entertaining tosh, but tosh nevertheless. But instead it turned out to be an incredible novel that really brings to life its settings, and delves into Clark Kent's uncertaintly as he tries to come to terms with his abilities. From the gentle setting of Smallville to the grandiose Metropolis, It's Superman unfolds from humble beginnings to become an epic story of good versus evil that spans the United States and involves everyone from simple gangsters to giant robots.

I can't recommend this novel highly enough - if you've got even a passing interest in Supes give it a whirl!

1. Palomar: The Heartbreak Soup Stories by Gilbert Hernandez
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love the work of Jaime and Gilbert Hernandez and their Love and Rockets comics. This book, the companion volume to Jaime's Locas, is the complete collected edition of Gilbert's Palomar stories, and weighing in at around 500 pages, it's a pretty substantial volume of work. Credit these two brothers with showing me that there's much more to comics than superheroes. Palomar is the tale of a town and the people who live in it. Sounds simple? Well there's so much more to it than that, because this town is populated by so many memorable characters and is the setting for numerous complex storylines that run throughout the entire book, covering all aspects of human behaviour. The scope of Palomar is breathtaking, and its complexity demands multiple readings - but give it the attention it deserves and you'll also discover why not every piece of illustrated storytelling should be labelled a funny book.

(Honourable mentions should also go to Tom Wolfe's I am Charlotte Simmons, and Margaret Wander Bonanno's Burning Dreams which reinstated my faith that a compelling Star Trek novel can still be written)

Movies!
I like to see a lot of movies, and although I wouldn't quite rate 2006 as a vintage year, there were some absolute gems.

3. Brokeback Mountain
I really wasn't too bothered about seeing this film when it came out, but I wanted to go to the cinema and I'd seen everything else. Thank god I did see it though, because Brokeback Mountain was one of the most beautiful films I've ever seen. A touching story, brilliantly realised characters, and the most wonderful scenary I've ever seen in a film. And for those who won't watch it for the simple matter that there's a brief botty-love scene, your loss.

2. The Prestige
This movie, coming so late in the year, really surprised me - it was intelligent, densely-plotted, and most of all incredibly entertaining. There's something to be said for the blockbuster movie that lets you sit back and switch your brain off, but there's also something to be said for the film that demands you engage your brain in an effort to work out what exactly is going on; The Prestige falls into the latter category. Kudos also for the perfect casting of David Bowie as Nikolai Tesla.

An awesome film.

1. Superman Returns
I was expecting BIG THINGS from this film, and not only did it match them - it exceeded them. Just watch the opening credits sequence to get an idea where this movie's coming from; not only does it pay homage to the first two Superman films, it also lets us know that it's moving the game on a bit - I mean, checkout the explosion of Krypton's sun! What follows is the perfect combination of action blockbuster and plot - it ticks all the right boxes with some quite frankly super action sequences, but also tells a damn good story too. And then there's the perfect casting of Brandon Routh as the last son of Krypton (was this guy born to takeover the role?), and a brilliantly nasty Lex Luthor played by Kevin Spacey. Weak links? I could grumble that Kate Bosworth's Lois Lane is nowhere near as sassy, witty, or memorable as Smallville's Erica Durance, but that's a minor quibble, and I look forward to the next time Superman returns.

(Honourable mentions go to: Junebug; I heart this film a lot - it's so good natured, truthful, and at times painful to watch, but it's a delightful little movie that deserves all the credit it gets. Ask me another day, and this could quite easily jump into my top three)

TV shows!
In contrast to the movies, there were some quality TV shows this year. I kinda found it hard to choose, which is why the honourable mentions is quite extensive... (Youtube clips linked via the titles, as blogger/Google/youtube has been acting a bit prissy and may or may not let me embed them anymore!)

3. Boston Legal
Marcosy once said to me that he thought Ally McBeal would've been better without Ally McBeal in it. I also say a dash of William Shatner improves everything. And what was Boston Legal? A new show from Ally McBeal creator David E. Kelley with William Shatner in it - hurrah! OK, so the first season started pretty slowly, but as soon as the Shatner-James Spader partnership got going the show really took flight. By turn funny and thoughtful, Boston Legal is not only brilliant television, but it's also given me a new Shatner catchphrase to quote: DENNY CRANE!


2. My Name is Earl
If you asked me which show I wish I had written, I'd probably choose My Name is Earl. Why? Well first of all it's funny. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, it's got real heart - because each episode is all about Earl trying to make the world a better place. Having recently rewatched the entire first season on DVD, I can honestly say that there's not a dud episode among 'em. It's got a great cast too, headed up by Jason Lee who I've been a fan of since I saw him in Mallrats years ago; and I could watch Jamie Pressly as Earl's ex-wife Joy *forever*. I often rate TV shows by how quotable they are; the sheer fact that my brother and I constantly quote My Name is Earl to each other is a sure sign that it's great.


1. The OC
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: The OC is great telly. OK, it's a little trashy at times, but that's part of it's appeal - it's fun, dramatic, feel-good TV. It can be both lighthearted and serious, and it crams so many storylines into each season. This year, for example, we've had Ryan and Marissa getting back together, Julie Cooper falling on hard times and moving to a trailer park (comedy gold there), Kirsten leaving rehab and relapsing, Marissa falling for Johnny, Johnny dying, Ryan and Marissa spliting up, Marissa getting involved with Volchak, Ryan getting involved with Johnny's cousin, Summer getting into Brown, Seth NOT getting into Brown, Theresa returning WITH baby, and Marissa dying!

*PHEW*

The fourth season starts here in a couple of weeks. I cannot wait.


(Honourable mentions go to Battlestar Galactica, which continues to tell awesome stories that parallel events in the real world; Family Guy which just got ruder and cruder; Smallville for being consistantly entertaining and, in Kristen Kreuk, Allison Mack, and Erica Durance having the hottest trio of ladies on TV; Supernatural, which turned out to be a darker, edgier X-Files for the noughties; One Tree Hill which inexplicably got good again)

Gigs!
I didn't go to as many gigs in 2006 as I have in previous years, but that just made the ones I did go to even more special.

3. Nada Surf
Dispense with all rock-show trappings - check; perform at one of my favourite venues - check; play some of the best feel-good rock I've heard in a long time - check! Nada Surf at the Shepherds Bush Empire back in March was one of my all-time favourite gigs of recent years. Why? Well, they were just endearing musicians - three guys all just having a great time and willing to tell amusing stories to the audience between tracks - quality tunes were played, spirits uplifted, sing-alongs sung. It was a top-notch evening of music, and they instantly earned themselves a place in my list of bands I will see whenever they tour. Great stuff.

2. Muse
2006 was the year I saw Muse twice - once at Shepherds Bush, the next at Wembley Arena. Both shows were amazing for different reasons - the former because, well, it was Muse in the smallest venue I'm ever probably going to see them in, and the latter because a small part of me thinks they're one of the few bands who actually need to play big venues. Either way, both shows were absolutely amazing, and a sure sign that Muse are THE premier rock band of their generation.

1. The Rolling Stones
There's something magical about The Rolling Stones, and one of their gigs is always, ALWAYS a sight to behold - let alone them playing the closest they'll probably get to a homecoming gig at Twickenham Stadium. So they played pretty much everything I could've wanted them to, they performed marvelously, and their stage show was dazzling - but an extra reason why I loved this show so much was the fact that I went to see it with my family. Seeing Mum in absolute awe of the band she's waited over 40 years to see was incredible, and Simon's reaction that he wasn't too bothered by the whole thing UNTIL Keith played that first riff is indicative of just how wonderful the world's greatest rock 'n roll band continue to be.

(Honourable mentions to The Feeling, who I saw THREE times, and who just. Keep. Getting. Better; The Foo Fighters who played Hyde Park and still made it seem like we were all just a bunch of mates getting together to cheer on our local band)

Other stuff!

3. Running
Letting Sweatband talk me into actually running outside for the hell of it was definitely one of the better decisions I've made this year. It's free, it's mostly enjoyable, and it makes me feel like I've done a super-awesome workout. And the sense of accomplishment I felt at completing two 10k runs was almost overwhelming. No wonder I'm seriously considering giving up my gym membership...

2. Moving out
OK, so I may have sort of gone "Um, what the hell am I doing?" that first night (January 1st, 2006) when I finally moved into Sparky Towers, but over the weeks and months that followed I found my own little homeowner's groove. I've always enjoyed my own company for the most part (because I can be frikkin' entertaining), and having your own place gives you space to reflect and chillout. It's kind of like having my own version of Superman's Fortress of Solitude, except replace 'big scary hologram of Marlon Brando' with 'big TV and Xbox' and you'll get a better idea of what I mean.

1. Blogging
Ah, at Glittering Lee's suggestion I'd been thinking about starting a blog for a while by the time I finally plucked up the courage one evening before The OC started. And I'm soooooooooo glad I did. Not only has it saved my family from my endless wittering about the things that I like and do, but no one complains or lets me see that bored, glazed over look in their eyes! Another, perhaps more important aspect, is the fact that I've met some truly amazing fellow bloggers who've introduced me to new ideas, recommended great books and music, made me feel good about the things that I do, and inspired me to, in the words of S Club 7, reach for the stars. You're all, like, totally awesome, and I look forward to reading your blogs each and every day.

Other winners!
iPod Nano - genius! Xbox 360 - a winner from Microsoft?! Yes - intuitive menu system, brilliant online play, and some great games (Star Trek - yay!) Muse, Blackholes and Revelations - OK, it sags a little in the middle, but Muse's latest album can be forgiven for three reasons - Supermassive Blackhole, Starlight, and Knights of Cydonia. Sufjan Stevens, The Avalanche and Christmas Boxset - an album of astonishingly beautiful off-cuts from the Illinois album and a boxset of Christmas EPs that coloured me festive reaffirmed my opinion that Sufjan Stevens is one of the most brilliant singer-songwriters out there. Starbucks card - OK, there's no real point to it, but it just makes you feel important!

And the losers...
...Lost totally lost me this season - I just really don't care why they're all on the friggin' island, and quite frankly they can stay there ... Desperate Housewives - the quality of the first season went flying out the window and all we were left with was Teri Hatcher's stony botox'd visage. Even the sight of Bree with a shotgun couldn't bring me back into the fold ... Orson at the 100 Club in Oxford Street - No Tomorrow was a great song, horribly overplayed, but great nevertheless; unfortunately, none of their other songs are anywhere near as good ... Cars - Disney/Pixar finally hit the skids. I love cars, and I love movies, but this was just a dire retelling of the Michael J Fox movie Doc Hollywood... Xfm - I hate to say this because I love this station sooooo much, but this year they've completely ruined the killer daytime lineup they started 2006 with, and now I have to retune to Capital to listen to Lucio, and retune to BBC Radio 6 to hear Shaun Keaveny (which as it's a digital only station will mean I'll be sitting in the office with headphones on listening to it through my computer, which is just antisocial). The least they can do is put Iain Baker back in his rightful place weekday afternoons.

So that was 2006 in reviews. Agree? Disagree? Anything I missed, hmmm...?

The Jude imperitive

Did you all have a lovely Christmas? I hope so. I did; got up early, over to Sparky Ma and Pa's, then lots of presents, food, and fun. Good times indeed.

Boxing Day I sat around and played the two new Xbox games that Simon got me - Lego Star Wars II (literally the most hilarious game I've EVAH played) and Gears of War (amazing, but VERY scary).

Then, of course, in the afternoon I headed over to Sweatband's place to check in on her cat, Jude (the dude). Now I know that people say cats aren't the most sociable of creatures, but from the moment I opened the door Jude was meowing and running alongside me trying to trip me up. Was he trying to kill me? Has he developed a taste for human flesh? Ooo...

Anyway, I fed him, filled his water bowl, and cleared out his litter tray (nice). Now, having watched me refill his water bowl you would've thought this would have been an indication to Jude that he didn't need to drink out of the toilet. But no, he did. Seriously, if he can work out how to balance to drink from the loo, how come he can't turn round the other way and use it properly? That would certainly save me from having to see his litter tray again, I tell you.

After all the chores were done, Jude and I sat down to watch E.T. Well, I say 'we' - Jude got a bit excitable and started running around, scratching the sofa (I hope it still has a left arm when Sweatband returns), and attacking the curtains. He tired himself out after about 30 minutes, then decided he wanted to sit where I was sitting on the sofa.

Anyway, he was no trouble at all, and I'd gladly look after the little bugger again in the future. Oh, and I only had to call him Judith once!

Twas the night before Christmas (eve, anyway)

We three Beatles of Orient are,
John in a taxi, Paul in a car,
George on his scooter beeping his hooter,
Following Ringo Starr.

Ah, I used to love that traditional Christmas song when I was a kid; who knew they weren't the original lyrics?

So the big day is bearing down on us like a fat drunken man dressed as Santa, and I'm beginning to get that giddy feeling of child-like excitement. It's cold outside, warm inside, presents are wrapped, and I had a stroke of genius yesterday to add to the admittedly minimal festive decorations within Sparky Towers.

Just after I bought my house last year I picked up a string of white lights - y'see, there's a white piller next to the stairs that I thought would look great with lights wrapped round it. I was influenced by Smallville - particularly in the early seasons when they had the Beanery coffee shop where everything was lit by little fairy lights. Yes, I was influenced by a TV show - not the first time...

Anyway, so I bought the lights, shoved 'em under the stairs, and promptly forgot about them.

Until last night!

There I was playing Star Trek: Legacy on my Xbox (hearing ship names and seeing targeting reticles when you close your eyes isn't really a sign of addiction, is it?) when I suddenly remembered them. So I paused the game, dug out the lights, and wrapped them around said piller.

And by gum it looks great!

The only possible downside could be that Mr Chunt already thinks I've tried to decorate downstairs to look like engineering on the Enterprise - and now I've got something that looks like a rudimentary warp core it's going to be difficult to convince him otherwise...

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So look, my lovelies, I think it's likely this'll be my last post until the middle of next week (when I'll be jumping on the bandwagon with a look back on the best bits of 2006!), so in the meantime I'd like to wish you all a very happy and healthy Christmas!

And who better to teach us about the true meaning of Christmas than the man himself, Mr. William Shatner - take it away Shatty!


I salute you all!

The Judith debriefing

I've been set an incredibly important task to do over Christmas: I'm looking after Sweatband's cat, Jude (the dude).

So today I popped round to Sweatband's to get the skinny on Jude's foibles and behavioural patterns. He does have his foibles, you see. Well, wouldn't you if your previous owner had called you Geri after the erstwhile Ginger Spice? And as if that wasn't bad enough, it also ignores the fact that you've got a pee-pee.

Anyway, so round to Sweatband's I went, where Jude stared at me a lot, and then tried to rest his little head on my shoulder. He also sniffed my face, which is a good sign, I think.

So I've been fully briefed about my cat sitting duties, ranging from feeding and providing attention to chucking out his poo. And if he misbehaves I've been given the authority to call him Judith, because he hates that.

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It's been super-foggy in my part of the world over the last couple of days. And I mean SUPER FOGGY. I've even had to use my fog lights when I've gone out in the car. I was going to take a photo to show you all, but seeing as it would just turn out all grey I really didn't think they'd be much point...

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They're advertising the new season of The OC on the telly - could I be anymore excited? I'm literally wishing Christmas away in anticipation...

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So what else have I been doing over the last couple of days? Weeeeeeeeeell, I've been watching Season Five of Smallville on DVD, I attended Christmas drinks for my old company, and I've been playing a lot of Xbox. A LOT. And that's because Star Trek: Legacy finally came out, so I've been living out my starship captain fantasies, both in the single player game, and on the multiplayer Xbox Live version.

Now, single player wise I'm doing OK. I'm coordinating my fleet of four ships quite well, and getting to grips with blowing those wily Romulans out of the sky.

Online play is another matter, however. Annoyingly, no one has yet taken the bait and recreated the famous Wrath of Khan battle sequence with me. In fact, they usually just turn up with the most powerful ship they can and blow my warp nacelles off, which is a tad unsporting. Still, I've got some reasonably decent matches in, and I've only had the game for just over a day, so things can only get better (I hope).

So it's pretty much just Smallville and Xbox from here on in, scattered throughout with some present delivering, a combined catch-up and cinema trip with Jo, and ... um, that's about it! Life seems so much less complicated when that's all you've got to fill your days.

What the hell's everyone else up to?

Mix CD 2006!

I'm starting a new tradition this Christmas: the Sparky Malarkey Mix CD!

There are several reasons behind me doing this, but the main ones are as follows:

1. It's a rather personal gift in that I've actually thought about what goes on it.
2. I love introducing new music to people, whether it's in the form of draggin' them along to a gig or playing a CD in the car to my mates.
3. It's a cheap way of making it look like I'm giving more presents this Christmas.

Anyways, as I consider all you lot out there that take the time to read this tat I publish far too often my friends, I thought I'd run through what's on the inaugural Mix CD so that if you want you can scurry over to iTunes and compile your own (or, no doubt the more unscrupulous among you will download it by more nefarious means - don't steal music kids!).

I've thought long and hard about what to put on the CD, and I've tried not to be too obvious. In a lot of cases, I've gone for songs that have meant something to me over the course of the year (not necessarily my favourite songs, but ones that take me back to particular instances, for example), while in others I've gone for tracks that, y'know, I just kinda like. I've tried to stay away from big commercial chart hits (hence no Muse, Killers, etc), because I want people to listen to it without any preconceptions (such as "Eeeeow, I'm not a big Muse fan"), and I think I've come up with something that flows sort of ... nicely.

So, here ya go - the official Sparky Malarkey mix CD 2006! (with links to relevent websites/Myspace pages in the titles!)

01. Blizzard of '77 by Nada Surf
I love Nada Surf. I discovered them on an OC soundtrack a couple of years back, and snapped up their back catalogue pretty swiftly. This track is the opening song off their album Let Go. It's short (2:09), and sometimes I wish it would go on forever; it's so melodic - just listen to way the guitar and the singer's voice go so achingly well together. The lyrics just draw you into the unfolding story of the song - I simply love the chorus, which kicks in for the first time around the 48 second mark when he sings "but in the middle of the night I worry/ it’s blurry even without light."

And it's only when the song finishes that you realise it's just one dude and a guitar. Beautiful.

02. In Between Days by Ben Folds
I was a big fan of Ben Folds Five, and while I've followed his solo career with dedication, I've always felt that a little bit of the fun was missing when compared to the stuff he did with the band. His latest album, the wonderfully titled Supersunnyspeedgraphic: The LP brought me back into the fold, if you'll pardon the pun, and this cover of The Cure classic, which is the first track, is my favourite on the entire CD. Just listen to the way the song opens as he pounds on the piano keys - it's so infectious it makes me sway regardless of what I'm doing; in the car, doing the washing up - whatever!

03. Middle of the Hill by Josh Pyke
This incredible song was brought to my attention by Miss T and Dora after they saw Josh Pyke in concert, and I subsequently sat there on his myspace page with this playing on repeat. I love a twangy accoustic guitar, and this song combines that with a meloncholy tale of childhood memories. It's actually quite dark when you really listen to the lyrics, which is kind of unsettling when, on first listen you just think it's nothing more than a happy clap-along. And what a true final line: "I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I got 'em."

04. Casmir Pulaski Day by Sufjan Stevens
I might ramble on for a bit here, because I *heart* Sufjan Steven's music BIG TIME. It's a cliche to say it, but there is truly something awe-inspiring, almost life-changing, about the songs he produces.

Although not similar in style, I often compare Sufjan Stevens to Jeff Buckley in the fact that they are both the sort of artist that I can listen to regardless of my mood - they're equally well-suited to listen to while walking through the streets on a beautiful summer's day, or while you're feeling a bit moody in the middle of winter.

I really thought long and hard about which track to pick, because quite frankly this mix CD could've turned into a Sufjan Stevens album. I ultimately chose this one, from his Illinois album, because it was the first song of his that I really *got* - something literally clicked in my mind and I thought this is simply amazing. I love the fact that there's a definite story here; and like the Josh Pyke track, it's actually quite dark. Not in a sinister way, but just in an everyday sort of way. Does that even make sense? But on the otherhand, it's also uplifting - like a warm blanket. There's a sense of hope woven into the song, which leaves me feeling refreshed and at peace.

(Special mention should go to Jacksonville, also off the Illinois album, which was constantly vying for position with Casimir Pulaski Day right up until I finally settled on the track listing - look, just go buy the Illinois album, OK?)

05. Beautiful by Clem Snide
This is where we kick things up a gear. I saw Clem Snide supporting Ben Folds at a gig a few years back (well, actually it was just the lead singer doing an accoustic set), and when he started playing this I turned to Yaz, and she turned to me, and we both said "I recognise this song..."

It was only as the chorus kicked in that we realised it was Christina Slaguilera's Beautiful.

The thing I don't like about a lot of modern pop is that I feel they drown the song under vocal warblings and over-production. Strip that away, as Clem Snide have done here, and you realise there's a f**king awesome song under there. How uplifting are the words "Because you are beautiful in every single way/ words can't bring you down?" It's almost inspiring.

And it makes me want to dance my way down the street when I'm listening to my iPod on the walk to Starbucks at lunchtime.

06. Crush by Gavin DeGraw
Another one who's guilty of over-production, but Gavin DeGraw more than made up for it by reissuing his debut album as a two-CD set, the second disc featuring the entire album done as an accoustic set. And it's bloody brilliant. After a quiet start, this track just powers on into one of the catchiest (is that even a real word?) choruses going. And he's amazing live - please, please, please go see him if you get the chance, and find out that there's so much more to his music than just the theme tune to One Tree Hill.

(This was a rather late addition - this spot was going to be filled by a stunning accoustic cover of Joe Jackson's It's Different for Girls by a band called Farrah who I saw supporting Phantom Planet last year, but I kind of felt that the CD was getting a little bit too unbalanced and subdued - however beautifully - in the middle, so sadly I took 'em off. Do check out their website though, as they are definitely worth a listen)

07. A Lack of Color by Death Cab for Cutie
If you don't like, or have never heard of, Death Cab for Cutie then shame on you! This was another band I found through an OC soundtrack - in fact, this song was the first of theirs that I heard (it's actually taken from the Transatlanticism album). It's such a heartwarming song - uplifting, inspiring, gentle, melodic. For some reason it reminds me a lot of Otis Reading's Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay, one of my all-time favourite songs, and there's not really much higher praise than that, is there?

08. Conversation by Adj
I found this song while surfing around Myspace, and was instantly beguiled by the electro-poppiness of it, which is weird because I usually don't do electro-pop. But there's something here that just grabbed me, and it quickly became one of those tracks that crept up my 'most listened to songs' list on my iPod. Maybe it's the fact that, again, the lyrics are quite dark ("everyone you know will let you down in the end," perhaps?), or it might be that there's something inherent in the song that reminds me of London and modern life: "the more I have, the more I want," for example.

This dude used to be in the band Kubb, but I find that I like his solo stuff more. I hope there's an album on the way. In the meantime, check out his Myspace page - this track is no longer up, but there's a couple of other quality tracks available to listen to.

09. Just by Mark Ronson ft. Alex Greenwald
This was another summer favourite of mine. I think I heard it for the first time on the Xfm remix show on a Sunday evening, and I was all, like, that sounds familiar. Then I realised it was a Radiohead cover. Now, I'm not a real follower of Radiohead - I can appreciate them, and there are a lot of their songs that I love, but I sort of find them a bit cold and distant. In contrast, this cover of Just just clicks for me. It starts slowly, then jumps up a notch with an infectious beat that feels like it wouldn't be out of place in a sweaty club in Havana where everyone's doing the rumba! I'm a huuuuuge Phantom Planet fan (they are awesome live!), and Alex Greenwald has such a unique voice; it suits the song perfectly.

Kudos to Mark Ronson for an incredible spin on a classic song.

10. Valentine by Delays
I worked with a super lady called Lorna for a few years, and she loved Delays. I never really got into them, though, despite her insistance that they were great. I might've labeled them "too poppy" at the time. That all changed with this track. It's the sort of song that just grabs you and twirls you around - it almost makes me want to spin around with my arms held out, and who cares who's watching? Just listen to those soaring vocals - awesome.

Ironically, for what I thought was their greatest song, this track, and the album it came from, didn't do as well as the singles from their debut release. A shame, but on the otherhand they've made a new fan. I missed out on seeing them at the Shepherds Bush Empire back in the Spring - I hope they play again soon.

11. Headlights by Sean Lennon
Sean Lennon? Yes, Sean Lennon. I remember back in about 1998 when both Sean and Julian Lennon released albums on the same day. Julian's was very much an album of quality songs, consistant, melodic, and worthy. Sean's album was different; experimental, inconsistant, almost without direction. But there was something in it that made me keep returning to it over the years - something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I knew there was a real talent here, but I didn't quite think he'd hit the nail on the head just yet.

Fast forward eight years, and Sean Lennon releases his second album, Dead Meat. This is a far more coherent collection of songs, and there were at least three tracks I pondered over for a while. I settled on this song, Headlights, because I love the rythmic hand-clapping - I can't help but tap along on the steering wheel when I'm driving. There's something incredibly haunting about Sean Lennon's voice too; yes, he sounds like his dad, but there's far more to him than just a clone of John Lennon. He's a great talent in his own right.

12. Tumbling Dice (Live) by The Rolling Stones
There's at least one person who's getting a copy of the mix CD that HATES the Stones, but tough - I love them, and there's no way I could NOT include them here somewhere.

Strangely, for a band with such an incredible back catalogue, this track was easy to pick. It's taken from their recent Rarities: 1971-2003 album, and was intended for the Stripped album back in 1995 (one of my all-time favourite albums), before it was cut.

I find that the Rolling Stones are always better live - give me a live recording over one of their studio albums anyday; there's something shambolically loveable about their live performances. And this proves why; there's so many more layers added to the song, as if they've built-up over the years the band have played it on tour. I like the rawness - the muted introduction with Mick Jagger's vocals accompanied only by hand-claps and piano - it just sounds like a bunch of old mates jamming late at night - before it explodes into life around 48 seconds in. It's timeless music, and it takes me back to that amazing concert at Twickenham in August.

It's the sort of song that really makes me wish I was the lead singer in a band. Man, I'd love to Jagger around stage if I could shout out a tune like this.

So that's it folks, my 2006 mix CD. I hope you like it, or at the very least you find something on there that you like, and that it leads you into discovering an amazing artist or song. And feel free to chuck some recommendations my way 'cos I'm ALWAYS looking for decent tunes!

I'm a scrubber!

Ah, the first day of a long Christmas break... And how did I spend this much-needed first day off?

By cleaning my house from top to bottom and going into work, of course!

(It's not as bad as it sounds, stick with me!)

I'd planned for today to be my cleaning day for quite a while, actually. Quite frankly I'd been neglecting household chores for a while now - and by that I don't mean I was sitting in a pile of poo amid tons of washing up. No, rather I'd just not hoovered for a while. And you know it needs doing when there's tumbleweed-stylee dustballs rolling over the floor; on the plus side, it does keep your feet toasty while you're playing Xbox.

So anyway, there I was at 11 o'clock this morning, hoovering, washing the downstairs floor (it's wood, not carpet - I'm not THAT stupid), then scrubing the bathroom till it shone - bless the amazing cleaning power of Cillit Bang. I contemplated eating my lunch off the toilet - it was that clean. But then I would've felt compelled to clean it again.

After that, it was a quick shower, then into work to check over those last bits that got away from us last week, courtesy of my Nemesis' dicking around. Three hours later I was on the drive home.

Christmas can truly start... NOW!

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There was an interesting thing on the radio this evening - apparently some survey has revealed that most kids today want to grow up to be... a celebrity, of course! Who the hell needs doctors and engineers!?

I wanted to be a bus driver when I was a kid. I was besotted with red London buses. But I've ended up editing Star Trek magazines. Fortunately, I also wanted to be Captain Kirk, so you could say it all kind of worked out OK. Ironic, though, that I've gotten closer to being Captain Kirk than being a bus driver - but we'll label that under 'a good thing,' I think.

And now I'm intrigued: what did you want to be vs what you are now?

Total nerd

I finally got round to hooking my Xbox up to the intermaweb yesterday.

OH.

MY.

GOD.

Who the hell knew online gaming would be so much fun? OK, I feel a bit of a twat sitting in my living room with a headset on shouting "sorry" to the various people I smaah into on Project Gotham Racing 3, but on the whole it's a damn brilliant thing.

Strangely, I've found that there's a lot of Livepudlians on there; did the entire city buy a job-lot of consoles? The French player tend to talk a lot too. And by 'a lot' I mean 'A LOT.'

There are a couple of worrying things, though. Other people can rate your performance. My rating currently stands as this:

50% of people prefer to play with me.
50% of people prefer not to play with me.
100% of people find me 'unsporting.'

WHAT!?

OK, I'm still kinda getting used to the game, but 'unsporting'? Yes, I might've been involved in a few huge pile-ups, but c'mon... the dudes were in my racing line - they caused it!!

It's all good fun though, and not half as geek-tastic as I thought it was going to be.

Downsides? I've got crip-hand from holding the controller too tightly. And I'm feeling compelled to go out for a run tonight just to see some real people in the streets so I remember they actually exist.

Anyway, if anyone out there is on Xbox Live, look me up. My username is, what else, sparkymalarkey, and I'll be more than happy to be unsporting towards you too.

Driving home for Christmas

...And I'll totally be driving BACK to work on Monday. Yep, that huge-ass argument that I had with my Nemesis the other week has done exactly what I expected it to do and buggered things up a bit. So there's a couple of little bits here and there that need tidying, meaning that I'll swing by the office on Monday afternoon to (in my best Saaaaaf London accent) sort 'em aaaaaaaout!!

On the plus side, my tickets for the Xfm gig on Monday night haven't turned up yet, so as I asked for them to be sent to work I kinda need to pop in anyway. Might as well make myself useful for once!

Anyway, aside from having to go into work while I'm on holiday, I'm currently feeling a little bit "aaaaaaaaaaah..." relaxed.

I hope you are too.

Altogether now:

"AAAAAAAAAAAH..."

Doesn't that feel better?

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I've brought my office plant home with me for the Christmas break for two reasons. Firstly, I'm worried that it might, erm, die if I leave it there; and secondly, although it's not an evergreen I reckon it'll make a reasonable Christmas tree alternative. I won't weight it down with baubles or anything though - that would just be silly.

Hopefully it won't die; Sparky Ma has already nursed it back to health once in the last couple of years in a Florence Nightingale stylee, and I think she'd go "harumph" and look at me in a stern fashion if I asked her to do so again. On the otherhand, I do think she quite liked it in that spot by the window (which looks a tad bare now), so it's swings and roundabouts really.

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Ooo, look - end of worky, bye-bye beardy!



Hmmm... kinda regret doing that, actually...

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Can you believe it?! I the hell can't! I sailed by the 300 posts mark the other day. This is officially, I reckon, the most consistently written thing I've ever written. Shame most of it is tat, but fortunately I've set the bar pretty low so things can only get better!

Thoughts for the day

How do you know if a cat is lost?

I was walking back from lunch today with Yaz after a pleasant coffee (pleasant except for the moment when she said "f**k Christmas"; I think the festive stress has got to her), when I noticed a rudimentary poster stuck to a tree.

TORTOISE SHELL FOUND!

I was briefly struck by a vision of a naked tortoise with its little front paw-clawy things held tentatively over its little tortoisey groin, but then I realised that the poster wrapped around the tree a bit, and the obscured part had 'CAT' written on it.

That got me thinking. How do you really know if a cat is lost? I mean, a lot of cats wander past my house, but I don't automatically nab the poor thing off the streets and print out a load of flyers.

So what are the signs of a lost cat? You'd probably automatically say something like it has a pensive look on its face, but cats are pretty emotionally void unless you know them really well. Maybe a lost cat looks around a bit more, like it can't quite believe where the hell it is? Or it's looking furiously at a tube map, turning it this way and that like a tourist? Tube maps can be a bugger unless you know where you're going.

Or maybe I should just call the number and ask the person on the other end how they worked out that the tortoise shell cat was lost?

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Popped to Kingston this evening just to get a few bit 'n bobs, and I sorta felt like I was in a bit of mischievous mood.

How did I know this? I saw a young emo couple; she was stripe-tastic, he was wearing eye shadow.

I almost - almost - said to her "Aaaw, look - your boyfriend's wearing eye shadow. Doesn't he look special!"

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Word up grandma!

I saw an old woman today who kept saying "mega!" and "wicked!" She bought three Guitar Hero IIs for her grandkids' Christmas presents. But she's not sure if they have PlayStations, so she bought three of those as well.

-----

Anyone seen the new PC World ad? Y'know, the one where the clueless woman walks into PC World and says something along the lines of "I'm looking to buy a new laptop" and then the helpful PC World man runs her through the spec of a laptop, and then she says "but money's a bit tight!" and he says "But it's only two-nine-nine!" and she lets out a little orgasmic squeak and picks one up?

First of all - what sort of dumbass actually buys a computer in PC World?

Second - who the hell stands there and nods sagely like they actually understand what a celeron pro 1.21 gigawatts chip actually is?

And thirdly - since when has anyone in PC World actually known what they're talking about? The last time I went in there to ask for something for a Mac, three assistants either ignored me or ran off, while the fourth said "maybe you should try an Apple dealer?"

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I went to my resident's association Annual General Meeting last night. It was an interesting experience, and one I'm glad will only be repeated annually. It was kinda boring; we discussed parking, drains, the annual resident's fee, and how we're not going to give the bin men a Christmas gift this year.

The lady who hosted it tried to give me a packet of crisps as I left.

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Eight. Working. Hours. Left.

I encountered another problem today, which makes about three in total since my last post. Fortunately, I seem to be maneuvering around them in a very skillful, zen-like way Ninja way.

I've also grown a full on beard. Not a pervert beard, but a stylish beard. I'm quite liking it, and I've resolved only to shave it off when I've finished work. This time tomorrow I should be all smooth and looking like a 12 year old again. I might post before and after pictures.

Keep your fingers crossed that I can survive the remaining eight working hours.

If we were all in the same room I'd be asking you to hold hands with me right about now.

Cautiously optimistic

If my life were a movie, it would be right around now, just after the climactic shootout, that I'd stand up, turn to my comrades and sexy love interest, and say "see - that wasn't so bad..." – before being shot in the back in a final act of vengeance by one of my mortally-wounded foes.

You see, we're now at ... T-minus 22 working hours until I finish work for the year and begin my obscenely long Christmas holiday of crap telly, Xbox, and junk food.

And yet I can't help shake the feeling that everything is going a little too well...

We were set a pretty tight deadline on things that needed to be done before I swagger out of the office on Friday afternoon with a skip in my stride and a twinkle in my eyes - but somehow everything seems to have gotten done, or at the very least almost done; certainly do-able. And that still leaves me with three days to tidy up any loose ends.

But I've been in this sort of position before, and I know that someone or something always comes along to shat on the parade. Call me a pessimist, but I say it's better to be prepared. Or at the very least braced for impact (any old excuse to randomly shout "ALL HANDS BRACE FOR IMPACT!" in the office - hee hee, watch those confused faces!).

So I think I'm prepared. Although no doubt if something untoward does crop up I'll throw a hissy fit and get all sweary. Hell - give the people what they expect!

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Has anyone else noticed that in the adverts for Iceland (the supermarket, not the country), Kerry Katona has a different fella in EVERY SINGLE ONE?

I think we can all guess why that particular mum is going to Iceland...

I refer the honorable reader to the post below.

Yes, she's a slut!

You are a slut - AND YOU LOVE IT!

My appreciation of Strictly Come Dancing is increasing by the week, for one particular reason: judge Bruno Tonioli.

If you've not had the pleasure of seeing him in action, trust me - the guy is comedy gold.

Whereas all the other judges are somewhat staid in their comments regarding the dancings ("nice footwork," "you missed a step," etc), Bruno brings some fire to proceedings. And it's particularly funny because he sounds like Ricardo Montalban, which is just ace.

In recent weeks we've seen him almost slap another judge in the face with a sweeping arm gesture as he shouted "you were spinning LIKE a beautiful princess!" along with my particular favourite, which was directed at goody-two-shoes TV presenter Carol Smilie, and spat out with such overpowering vengeance: "You are a slut - AND YOU LOVE IT!"

I can't help but tune in every Saturday now, and for some reason, anything I say during the show and in the hours that follow, must be said in a Bruno Tonioli-stylee.

What am I going to do when the series finishes? You sluts.



(In contrast - Tess Daly. She sounds funny when she says "judges" and "couples." But on the plus side her boobs are bigger this series)

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I was buying some bagels at lunchtime and the woman in front of me in the queue paid by cheque (or check, depending on where you live in the world). Does anyone pay by cheque in shops anymore? I'd say she was some kind of evolutionary throwback, but she was actually about my age.

Most galling, however, was the fact that her bill came to about £8.40. And I could see a wad of tenners in her purse! I almost paid for her just to hurry the queue up, but that's a little bit too Pay it Forward for me, and I ain't Haley Joel Osment.

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I'm a winner! Yes, after weeks of trying, I finally came up with a pun headline worthy of Shaun Keaveny's What's the Story radio pun game.

The basic idea is that Shaun nominates a person, then we (the listener) have to come up with a fake story and a pun headline about them.

Today was Lionel Richie.

My two suggestions, based on the titles of Lionel Richie hits, were:

The story: After seducing former U.S. secretary of state Madeline Albright, Lionel Richie is shocked to discover that she's actually a man!
The headline: Albright schlong.

The story: Sympathising with his pet dog when he takes him to the vet to be 'snipped,' Lionel Richie agrees to undergo the same procedure.
The headline: Spay you, spay me.

And for my trouble I've won two tickets to an Xfm session at the Islington Academy next week. The Maccabees are playing, and I think I like them... Hurrah!

Tree'd off

I'd always thought that buying a Christmas tree would be a relatively easy proposition. It seems I was wrong.

I've been looking for weeks for a decent artificial Christmas tree (I don't like cleaning at the best of times, let alone having to sweep up after a disgruntled tree that keeps flicking bits all over the floor), with a four ft. one being the the ideal height. Sparky Towers is, you see, not the biggest abode on the face of the Earth; small but perfectly formed, I like to say. That being the case, I don't particularly want to over-egg the pudding with some seven ft. monstrosity that'll loom over the living room in an omnious fashion unbecoming of a symbol intended to celebrate the festive period.

So today I've been to three different places to try and track down the perfect tree: Tesco, and two different branches of Homebase.

Tesco was a complete waste of time. They only had six and seven ft. trees. Seriously, I wouldn't even be able to get one of them in my car. They were ma-hoo-sive. And as soon as some middle-aged woman started crying by the crackers because someone was blocking her trolley in I knew I had to get out of there.

Homebase proved to be a little more helpful in the fact that they had an easy to read guide to the trees they have available. Unhelpfully, they'd sold out of what would clearly be the perfect tree for me. The nearest equivilent was a four ft. fibre optic tree (ooooo sparkly!), but there's something in me that prefers a traditionally lit tree. It was also about 40 quid more than the sold-out tree I really would've wanted.

On to Homebase branch numero deux! This branch proves a little more helpful in the fact that they had one non-fibre optic traditional tree of suitable height. On the downside it was inexplicably priced at £30 (!), and the branches were covered in what the box described as "traditional frosting," and what I'd describe as "some weird white shit."

I'm also troubled by tree decorations themselves; fashion appears to be dictating that black and white are 'this season's colours.' Now, far be it for me as a fashion guru to argue, but black and white don't seem very festive. Where's the reds, the blues, the golds!? I want multi-colours, not monochromatic monotony!

So, somewhat disgruntled, I decided that Homebase can shove their tree - I'll make do with some festive detailing. And by that I mean lots of tinsel.

As I walked out of the store, I noticed that they were selling tiny baby real Christmas trees in pots. I almost succumbed. But then I figured it'd eventually grow up, get all rebelious, and start shedding on my floor and then I'm back to square one.

Also, they all looked kind of like the weedy tree from A Charlie Brown Christmas.

A night at Sparky's

Last night was so old school. Or is that old skool? I don't know - answers on a postcard please.

Anyway, so I totally turned time back last night. It was like being 19 again or something. This is the evening in a nutshell (post Happy Feet, I should add):

• Home.
• Microwave curry (Mmmmm!)
• Washing up (OK, kinda shouldn't have mentioned that because I NEVER did washing up as a 19 year old)
• Xbox on.
• Play Project Gotham Racing 3.
• Find an Xbox arcade game where you have to make a space station profitable (so addictive - it's like what I imagine Deep Space Nine mixed with crack would be like).
• Look at clock. Hot damn it's 2am!

I haven't played video games into the night in YEARS. I'm liking this Xbox thing. Unfortunately, I sorta figure that everyday life might get in the way at some point.

Work?

Washing?

What do you mean you expected your Christmas presents to be wrapped?