......

of course, there are times when people aren't nice at all.

i vomit on them.

happy last-day-of-april btw... the revolution has begun. there is no going back.

People and Being Nice

People are nice sometimes... it's easy to forget, but when you are reminded of it it's very refreshing. Even people I don't know very well are nice. Even people I'm not nice to are nice. Even people who kill small animals for pleasure are nice sometimes.

I have a week to do lots and lots of work.

Also, check out Robin Cooper's book The Timewaster Letters - got given a copy and it is hilarious. And he's called Robin.

It's Just One Of Those Days...

Do you ever get it when you feel angry and upset for no reason? Well there are reasons. But no close-to-surface ones.
Maybe it's cuz I didn't sleep much last night.
You know what I said about birds a while ago? I take it all back. Get the shotguns and pound the lot of 'em to dust and feathers - interfering with my dreams and waking me up at 4am.
I want my 'net back so I can post properly (at the moment I just steal other people's computers to blog).

Is The Phrase "Sweet Lord" Blasphemy When Used Outside Of Worshipful Context?

I'm beginning to worry that it is. Mind you, "Lord" doesn't necessarily refer to God... I digress. About me. About wireless still not working, about no work and more guitar, about friends and family and Saddam Hussein's birthday tomorrow and about an immense weight of tiredness that has engulfed me every afternoon this week. I went to bed at nine-thirty last night and woke up at six-thirty - that's quite a lot of sleep.

Maybe I'm dying...

quote of the day: "A certain amount of maturity is needed to fully appreciate how much fun being immature can be."
Guess which smartass came up with that one? Bonus points for guessing the class (not for you, Timmeh)...

Blogger Down

Ok, this time all of the computers have lost access to the network (and thus the internet). So even my backup is dead.
Hence, I may be gone some time. Keep up the good work though, y'all...

another post about nothing that should be about something

friday and sunday evenings are normally when i have most to talk about...
unfortunately they are the most inconvenient times, and i am often too tired to be at all eloquent anyway.
i hearby excuse all posts made on friday or sunday evenings.


i sometimes wonder where all my friends have gone. i know i am loved, i feel incredibly lucky to have so many generous and caring people around me.
nevertheless, every now and then, it feels like i have no real friends.
after church people go out to the pub or cafes, or back to one another's houses. at school people hook up on the weekends and evenings, attend parties, go out clubbing, whatever...

i don't do any of that. i go to one church person's house and one school person's and that is because they are both within two minutes' walking distance. and i only go about once every few months.
this is probably because i have a repressive, semi-introspective personality, i can entertain myself and i live with lots of people so i don't get lonely. i don't seek out people, i wait for them to come to me.
i guess that's my fault, but it is how i am. and i feel it sometimes.

The Zebra Is Dead

(on trial on the clock)







(hung for heresy, 10pm)

a message from the prophet dread

greeting, i bring to ye a picture
see the zebra, see the egg around his neck, surely this be a sign of death
the egg contains a yolk, a yoke, a yoke of death, of the grave
the egg is tied to the neck - surely the zebra shall be hung or beheaded
death, death is portended upon this day, the zebra shall not be seen alive again

The Zebra Is In The Steamer

Raaaaaaaaah!

I wrote a lengthy post about all sorts (mostly movies, the term "Classics" and Top Gun) but... all gone. Thank you, wireless. Thank you, processor, for freezing up on me.

My life is so hellish, I don't know if I can take it any more.

Words For Today

fry-up, boat, adventure, water, mud, motorbike, music, m, wow, lots of Ms, outboard motor, canoe, pub, stella, sandwhich, race, house, brownies, cookies, liverpool...

The Zebra Is In Disguise

...as a cake or some Celebrations. Courtesy of Simon and Perran, featuring some onions. This will baffle, bemuse and frustrate ADHers for many days to come.

The Zebra Is In The Margerine Tub (In The Fridge)

Zog-Blog

Old blog back in action - now a Joey Mitchell fansite: http://zog-blog.blogspot.com

Someone should make one of those for me...

My Work and How Bad Life Is

I should be doing more work. I did literally none outside of lessons today.

Despite this, I feel that my teachers have a responsibility to actually teach me - some of them, admittedly, have taken this on board and are doing their best.
Some, naming no names (damned Music Teachers) make a big fuss about everyone handing in their coursework for marking and then, when only four of us succeed, scribble a couple of ridiculously vauge notes about "Editing?" and "Note errors?" Are you saying there might be errors or that there are? Are you gonna tell me which notes are wrong? How can I improve when I don't know what to improve?
They don't take our class seriously (and fair enough, but still...)

Am I trying to blame other people for the sense of impeding doom? No. I am merely observing that while I am slacking, I have no idea what I should be doing. I complete all the work I get set (to varying degrees of perfection, it must be said) but I am not inspired to make extra work and then do it, surprisingly enough. While being totally aware of the consequences, both good and bad, in relation to how I work now, as far as I know I could be at straight-A's or straight-D's and unless someone tells me I'm at D's and need to start putting serious effort in, I'm gonna assume A's, sit back on my laxy ass and watch the world go by.

Or blog about random nonsense... I can't decide which.

a memory problem and a glodshif

bob: 'sup larz
larry: bob! long time no dig!
bob: i kno, n wass worse is dat i now speak like a bristolyan, ennet
larry: w'ever, trevor, you think you're clever but you never
bob: *looks stricken*
larry: aw, i'm sorry man
bob: *continues to look stricken*
larry: i was just kiddin' - hey, here, let me help you...
bob: leave me alone! i am in a state of strick
goldfish: *runs in* *pants*
bob: pants? what kind of place do you think this is?
goldfish: it's ok, we're in america, pants is trousers over here
bob: oh yeah, which state are we in then?
larry: strick, you said so yourself
bob: ohhh yeah
larry: *to the audience* by this time, america has taken over the world
bob: except for antarctica
larry: which is still ruled by us
bob: as a private seal-hunting ground
goldfish: i was running here for a reason
bob: what was that?
goldfish: uh...
bob: *to audience* three second memory *winks*
goldfish: who the hell are you?

Celebrations: An Analysis

I'll tell you what they should do: they should make a seperate Celebrations box called "Celetruffles" or something.
The overwhelming majority prefers truffles. The truffles always disappear before any other Celebration - sometimes you get given a box only to find that it's already been opened and all the truffles are gone. Truth is, everyone loves truffles and if Celebrations made a truffle-only box it would sell millions.

There is, however, a reason as to why they cannot do this; profoundly simple though it might sound, there are simply not enough truffles.
You see, truffles are not actually made of chocolate - they are not made at all. They are mined, more precious than gold, in the frozen wastes of Siberia and the deepest jungles of thet Amazon. That is why you never get more than one or two truffles in a box anyway - they are simply too rare. That is also why Celebrations charge such extortionate prices for such rubbish: all of the other chocolates put together are only worth a few pence. It is the truffles give Celebrations their value.

"But why does no-one know about the value of truffles?" I hear you cry. Well, Celebrations kept it hush-hush for a long time. Then, when people started rival mines the Celebrations guys just flooded them with water when no-one was looking. It gets worse: a guy in Siberia was found frozen to death.
I dunno why, but you know how the saying goes. "It happens."
There might have been a "sh" in there. Or a "Shh." "Shh! It happens."

I'll leave that one to your imaginations.

So anyway, I was walkin' along, singin'... yes. Crash. That is what I saw yesterday - quality film-making, touching, good messages... Funniest moment: Larenz Tate's character Peter does an improvised country song. I was reminded of that when I wrote "walkin' along, singin'" - small world, huh? Anyway, here's a quote:
Anthony: Look around! You couldn't find a whiter, safer or better lit part of this city. But this white woman sees two black guys, who look like UCLA students, strolling down the sidewalk and her reaction is blind fear. I mean, look at us! Are we dressed like gangbangers? Do we look threatening? No. Fact, if anybody should be scared, it's us: the only two black faces surrounded by a sea of over-caffeinated white people, patrolled by the triggerhappy LAPD. So, why aren't we scared?
Peter: Because we have guns?
Anthony: You could be right.

So... um... Crash. Recommended. Go watch.

The Zebra Is Not In The Lasagne

I was publicly reprimanded, assured that it was going "too far," and left disgraced with an icy zebra in my hands.

I may have to stop this game soon.

I may even have to kill off the zebra...

Proof of God?

I was thinking about stuff yesterday, having finished 1984 and being totally unable to sleep. I was pondering another "proof" (hey, if you mistype proof you get roof. Or poof. Either way, it's funny. LOL. I didn't write that) of God's existence - human loneliness.

That sounds like an odd thing to say (and don't get me wrong, I don't need any proof of God's existence) but isn't it true that everyone has felt at some time that something is missing?
I've heard a lot of people talk about a "God-shaped hole" - much as I loathe the expression I have to agree. There is something in each and every one of us which is unsatisfied; we can try to fill it with material wealth, or romance... the truth is we are missing God.
Personally, in the past I have sometimes thought "Out there is a perfect relationship waiting for me and though life won't be perfect I will be totally happy." Truth is, no human is perfect and no matter how amazing the person is they won't make life better. They won't even make you happy, necessarily.

Anyway, I'd say the God-shaped hole in itself doesn't appear as a God-shaped hole. It could appear as an anything-shaped hole. But again, no matter how we try, nothing will satisfy that inner desire of every human to be loved and understood, to be in the perfect relationship.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I'm going to stop typing now. Not because I believe I've communicated my point clearly, nor that I believe that I even have a point... simply because I've run sod-all out of things to say. Pardon my French.
In fact, neither of us has any idea what I'm gonna say next: there you go, we have something in common. How about a game? You guess what I'm gonna write, then I write it.

Pamplemousse.
Didn't see that one coming, did ya? That really was French, as opposed to "sod-all" which is actually English. But if it's at all rude then it's French, because the French are rude, everyone knows that. I went to France once. Well, I think maybe once every year or so, give or take, for the last fourteen years so that'd be more like fourteen times. Yeah, cuz I went twice in one year a couple of times. So anyway there was this guy and he was like "*insert random French jibberish here - possibly asking for directions*" and I was like "Er... non" and then he ran off.
Did I say I was gonna stop typing earlier? I lied. I'm gonna keep going until I run right out of

Pandora

Some code I will need at some point

[UPDATE - see right (the sidebar, numpty). Thanks for the link, Timmeh]

The Next Big Thing?

I got a succession of instant messages from old-time friend and ex-bandmate Aidan Marshall discussing the possibility of forming a new band. I'd been in touch with a drummer I'd found through the wonderful Bristol Musicans site and it might actually happen.

The odds so far suggest otherwise, but the enthusiasm, the opportunity and the... thing!... is there.
They're good musicians (as far as I know), the bad news being that they are both prog metal fans.
It came as a bit of a blow but I've talked to Aidan and it appears we share a dream of a band that defies genre, that will happily play pop, reggae, thrash and opera in the same set. Maybe not opera.

Um. Yes, so I have desperately wanted to be in a band (or more) for billions of years and maybe this one will actually kick off.
Or maybe not.
Either way, I'll make a website about it.

The Zebra Is In The Ice-Cube Block

Google Local

Just think, in a few years (well, maybe a decade) we'll have moving 3D versions of this in our cars.

But by then Google will have taken over the world.

Bird Watching

Way back, before I moved into my current house (maybe ten years ago) I got given some bird-watching stuff. I think it was my name, and a mild fascination I had (have) with nature in general... anyway, I had an interest in birds. Truth told I went "bird-watching" twice, both times in my back garden at the age of six with a little notebook. I only saw some pigeons. Bird-watching really doesn't appeal to me.
Nevertheless, with the outbreak of spring I am reminded again of how and why birds fascinate me, and how amazing they are. Visually they are beautiful, both elegant of movement and artistically coloured; audibly - well, the sound of birdsong is one of the most refreshing things that can be heard, be it in urban or rural setting.
Now I'm not saying that I want to sit out in a tent for three days with a £3000 telescope going "Look! A golden-headed twelve-pronged three-horse-power eagle!" I've just been reminded again of how precious the world we live in is, and how blessed we are by simple things such as the animals - and birds - that we share it with.

oh yeah, me n my mate fort of dis new game of bird watchin where u go down town and wen u see a fit bird, u take a foto of her. innit.

(a helpful note)

"it" being your mouth. or your mobile telephone.

A Cape For The Zebra

(The zebra is still in the tea-pot, as far as I'm aware.)

Some of you, you ungrateful lot, have been moaning: "Get the zebra a cape," "A cape, a cape, my kingdom for a cape," "Get it a cape, with a Z" - that kind of thing. Well I won't stand for it any more. Here is my statement:
If one of ye shall bring me a cape then I shall put the cape upon the zebra. If not, shut it.

...and just for the record...

i don't say LOL. i never say LOL.
people who say "LOL" are ridiculously irritating.

LOL

I played guitar so much this weekend that I have marks where I hold the plectrum on my finger and thumb. That's like... a totally new kind of mark, like.

Still no blood though : (

The Zebra Is In The Tea-pot

The Easter Message

"Jesus came to take upon himself everything we do that hurts us or hurts others, or what others do that hurts us." It's that simple. Well, not quite. But dad said something along those lines in church today and it really brought the message home again.

You know, I genuinely believe that some guy died on a cross and then came back to life. That isn't everyday stuff. It is odd. If someone said to me today "My friend died and then came back to life three days later" I'd be like "Yeah right." Well actually that's a lie, I'd be like "Cool," but it's still odd. But I believe it. I believe that by dying, and taking all of our sin and shame to hell or wherever, he has restored what was broken between us and God - I also believe, by the way, in an all-knowing, all-loving, all-powerful being called God.
Isn't that a bit weird?

It frustrates me so much that people just let it go like that. Because if God is real then he is the most important thing in the world ever. And if he isn't then am I crazy or what?

Sorry About That

"That" being my last post - I was tired and kinda fed up. I meant it though - "I don't know what to write but I know that I want to write" or whatever I said (nope, can't be bothered to go check).
I guess another way of putting it is "I can feel what I want to be understood but I'm not eloquent enough to word it effectively." I really don't have the words.

Spring actually is here though - outside in a t-shirt and it's warm. That oughta make you smile; go on, smile. Plus, Jesus came back to life around this time two-thousand odd years ago. Yeah, that's right, smile.

Remember kids: don't worry, be happy.

- - - - - - - -

i don't know what i want to write but i know what i want to want to write
damnit, i hate the internet sometimes
read my thoughts, all ye, read! READ!

so... um... i think i was going to bed soon...

in a year's time i'll be able to buy alcohol legally in Britain

i could be dead by then

damn government, depriving me of beer

The Big 500

(actually, that's 502 now)
And so much to talk about. But not enough time.
Man, I know I'll forget to write anything about Good Friday but it really got me thinking.

Happy Bank Holiday Weekend anyway, y'all...

The Zebra Is In The Spice Cupboard

New Website

And, of most interest to all you Rob Mitchell enthusiasts (just me then? oh right) I put up a guide I wrote to The Good Enough? EP before I released it.
I decided against handing out the guide, but now you too can read it here.

The actual URL to the site is www.freewebs.com/the_great_and - there is no significance to the name, I just ran out of ideas. You can fill in the second half of the sentence yourself.

Anyway, it's kinda bland but I'm starting from scratch (and doing it all open-source) so it looks very neat.

The Zebra Is On The Fire Alarm

Shaving Foam

Ladies and Gentlemen: Joey Mitchell

The Zebra Thus Far

Starting from The Door:

Back Online!

And just in time to enforce my 12-posts-a-day regime ; )
Thank you Ben and Richard for working out that some idiot (possibly me) had hit the reset button on the bridge lost all the settings.

Wow, it feels good to be on my own PC...

actually I won't be posting for a few days as my parents have decided that it might be wise to take a break from computers over the Easter weekend. Basically they insist that we've been doing overkill and need some headspace.

Personally I don't know what they're talking about.

101011000

The Zebra Is On The Speaker...

...and I'm gonna spend all day in a boat on the Thames. Let's hope it doesn't rain.
That nearly rhymed, depending on how the individual pronounces "Thames."

My point: I was gonna blog about deep, controversial issues (I use that line a lot) but I simply haven't the time. So this logging in and blogging was all for nothing (I'm a poet and I know it).

So...

...

bye.

The Joys of Having Too Much Free Time

Dear Housemates

Due to the failure of many of you to replenish the supplies of orange juice in this fridge when they have been exhausted, it has been decided that we will install Closed Circuit Television cameras in the kitchen so as to identify the guilty parties, as well as to monitor how our supplies are used. Furthermore, we will introduce a log book wherein consumers must sign every time they have a portion of apple or orange juice.

This is for the greater good of the household and, if done in love and with the serving attitude of our Lord Jesus, will surely help us grow together in unity.
We hope that this will not be an inconvenience to you,

Love Dave and Tina

*cackles maliciously*

(... ...)

Wow, I changed subject a lot there. Tangent, that kind of thing. I think this new system is making me inconsistent.
Hey look, some rain.

The Zebra Is Next To The Extractor Fan

And the sellotape (no corrections) is loose.
This is why I dislike holidays - I've just wasted a day. Well, a good four hours. And my point is, uh... well, basically I love holidays. So I don't care that I wasted four hours. And my internet is still broken and my brother is now attacking me with a knife because he wants to use this computer. I said five minutes, I mean ten, gimme a break Ben.

I'm reading 1984 - having read some John Le Carre I can really see how he's been influenced by Orwell. It's a good book but kinda depressingly realistic in a weird way. What a hellish place "Airstrip One" would be to live.
Man, look at the rain. I love the rain, but I'm just sitting here playing computer games and killing time. I wanna do something.

*considers other possibilities*

You know, I think I'll just stay here.

Creative Overkill/The Zebra on The Door

Oh man oh man. I decided to put some music to some lyrics and got through about 10 songs in half an hour, totally not getting anywhere. Changing moods, themes, styles, trying to rush... it just doesn't work. And that is why we don't do creative overkill.

On a lighter note, the Zebra is now on the door.
For those of you who don't understand, I'll elaborate:
Many moons ago I found a small plastic zebra in the kitchen and put it in the Fridge. And then the freezer. A few weeks ago a friend (Jack Pflug, for those that know him) brought the same zebra to my room and was playing around with it. He took it downstairs and while we were in the kitchen I put it in the microwave.
A couple of days later I was startled to find that it was still there. The day after that some devotion guys (possibly Ed Burke, in fact) found it and put it on a pipe above the door. Matt Bennet (with my guidance) then sellotaped (how the hell do you spell that one?) it to the ceiling.
It is now at the bottom left corner of the kitchen door.
Where next? Who knows. But from now on I will document its movements, complete with photographs.

(...)

...and the award for the Blogger.com post that made least sense ever...

(see below)

*bows*

*exits and goes to a coffee bar to grab an espresso*

Pink

I only wrote that cuz I couldn't think of a more creative title...

I tell you what: when wireless gets better I'll start talking about it again; you must be bored sick of it by now.
I've got a new project planned (don't worry, I won't rave about it) - 30 acoustic songs on a demo CD. Funny thing - I was writing out finished song titles and was thinking "Am I gonna be able to make thirty?" and then I went through and counted and had 32. And that's not nearly all of my songs.
He said, not raving about it.

You know, I keep having these hilarious Larry and Bob episodes come into my head but because wireless is...
wait, I'm not talking about that either.
Uh... hey, I had this idea where I dictate my life's events through Larry and Bob. But that would be boring for y'all, or totally unrealistic - either way, pointless.
There's a thought for you to chew on though - I had the idea.

Eighteen days; anyone wanna give me an electric-acoustic guitar?

More Frustration

See? See? Look at how my blogging rate has gone down - I'm surprised the whole Blogosphere hasn't collapsed. And look at how the quality of my posts has decreased - are they still hilariously funny? Well yes, but not quite as much.
Man, I wish my housemates would get up and fix the damn wireless thing, confound their day-jobs, religion, fiancees, social commitments and other pointless time-wasting occupations.

So anyway, another thing that is really bugging me is this: a while ago I went on Amazon and added all the CDs I wanted to get at some point to my shopping basket (and it totalled £137 - including some CDs costing £3! Shocking!) and then my 'net crashed or something. Well, the next day the list wasn't there! And I'd forgotten half of the stuff and it really bugs me because I can't remember what new music I was planning to explore! Rubbish! What with my birthday coming up I was gonna say "Buy me these," but now I can't! Rubbish, rubbish, rubbish.

Life is so cruel, I might as well just die.

Hmmm

One problem with having your blog read by other people is that you can't bitch about them.
Not that I'd bitch about any of you guys - you're all great - but still...

What's so great about Brunel anyway? Sure, he designed a couple of bridges, some railways, a boat or two... I could do that. You could do that. ANYONE could do that. It's the actual building work that's the hard bit - what about those millions of workers that gave their lives for the good of the Empire only to be forgotten, like little balls of dust blown in the wind. Oh wait, they were workers - that's right, the Proletariat. So it doesn't matter. And what was Brunel? Bourgeoisie? Aha, so it is political. Death to the scum! Kill first, ask do other stuff later. Do not ask what party they support, rather what class they are from. Death! Death and blood and more Death! And Deth for the dyslexics out there.

Man, I hate wireless. If I was on my own PC now I'd be way happier. Like, at least 1.5 times happier. I'd at least be smiling a little bit. Well, I wouldn't be kicking the hub every few seconds.
Well, my blog dose is over. Pray for our wireless, folks.

Post-Distribution Fear

I've already given out a couple of copies and having seen the recipients soon afterwards (knowing that they had listened to it) I assume that they didn't like it. Let me explain: if you give someone something and they really like it, as soon as they see you they'll be all enthusiastic about it and talk about how great it was. But if they didn't like it they'll just shun the subject and if you ask them directly, they'll be politely - but restrainedly - positive. Or blunt, I dunno. Anyway, no enthusiasm this end : (

Do you ever get it when you worry that people don't like you? Not all people, just individuals? People you find it hard to talk to (believe me, there's a lot of people I find it hard to talk to)...
I guess I don't like cheap talk. It can be light and friendly, or deep and personal, but it's gotta mean something. If it's a conversation that might as well mean nothing I find it depressing; hence I find talking to some people difficult...

wait, I've gone off on one. Stop there. Hold that thought. Go to bed.

(Hopefully) My Last Post About...

The "Good Enough?" EP.

That's right folks, I've already made about eight copies, ready for distribution among the masses. I only want to give it to people who want to listen to it and take it seriously - if that means nobody, so be it.
Having listened to each song a billion times I am no longer capable of determining which bits are good and which bits are rubbish, so any feedback would be appreciate. Despite the iffiness of the overall thing - particularly the mix with the vocals - I am rather pleased with my arrangements and the actual songwriting bit. So who knows how it will go down. But anyway, what I mean to say (and I think I've already said it) is if you want a copy, email me or come and find me. I'd love to share the love as it were, and get to hear what you think.

Lyrics available on request by the way.

Hmm. Right, that's over with. I went in a boat today, that was fun (pics when my 'net is back up). And I realised how great The Killers are. Seriously, aside from that "Mr Brightside" song the whole album is awesome.
Yes. The Killers.
I always end like that huh?

Ain't It A Beautiful Day?

Answer = yes. Yes it is. Why the hell am I inside blogging? I have no idea. Actually though, I've spent way less time on the PC recently. None at all, yesterday (apart from half an hour's work). That may be related to wireless not working, or it may be because I'm too cool for all that. I'd go with option two.

So anyway, my CD is nearly finished. When I say "nearly finished," I mean I've recorded 5 out of 7 songs (all of the full-band ones) to the best quality I can considering my equipment, abilities and time frame. Alas, "the best quality" is pretty poor.

Needless to say I won't sell the CD (I for one wouldn't pay money for that garbage), I just want to give it to as many people as possible who might recognise the genius shining through the layers of muck and grime and er... muck.

As for the sound, I can excuse the vocals: I had a cold and bad throat for most of the session so the dodgy bits are explained.
The guitars can't be excused, that's the way I play.
The drums? I'm not a drummer. Why did I even try? Pride? Fear? Courage? Blind stupidity? I don't even know.
The bass? Don't get me started... playing bass is piss easy until you start playing it well, and then it's really hard. Shoutouts to all you bassists.

Anyone still with me? No? Then I'll carry on. 'ere is a poem what I wrote.

There was a lark
call'ed Frank
and he sang with the rising
of the sun,
every morning,
every one
'til one day
he was blown away
by a farmer
with a gun

Actually, I just made that up just then just now just then. Pretty impressive huh? I should be a poet, right? Or a songwriter or something. Or maybe I should just be a farmer and grow radioactive plants and sell them to people and take over the world.

Wireless Disaster

Turns out no-one can access the network. I think it's trying to give everyone the same IP address... any tips?
Anyway, I recorded another song today (you're gonna get sick of hearing this soon if you aren't already) and it feels like the best so far. Certainly the vocals and the guitar. Thing is, I only really worked out how it was gonna sound today, I pretty much wrote it spontaneously apart from the chorus.

I also tried to record "Air" and every time something went wrong. So I'll leave it 'til tomorrow. Air is the most rocky song I've written, and it's in a major key too. Kinda.

I hate wireless, did I mention that?

'Net Down

Again. Well, wireless down. Confounded wireless. If I could be bothered I'd draw a picture of me hitting it with a stick, but I can't. Hell, I can't even be bothered to write about it any more.

I'm pretty sure I am dying (or asthmatic) - I played football again in the cold air today (it's the cold air that does it) and I was all choked up. Maybe I'm allergic to cold air. Cuz after the same amount of running in the warm, I'm fine.
Thing is, this must be fairly new. So I still hold that I'm dying.
Anyway, I didn't come here to blog about this; basically, I'm really excited about my little CD so I thought I'd let you know that I've recorded "Another Lesson Not Learnt" which is not only in a major key but doesn't have a guitar solo.

I'm continuing to be amazed at the relatively good sound I am getting out of such a trashy program. Unfortunately dynamic mics through a dust-filled mixer amp don't do my voice any justice, but that aside it's pretty rocking.

Ah yeah, with "Lesson" I couldn't sing the choruses cuz I'm still choking and coughing from this death thing. So even though I tried, I failed. Will have to do that some other day.

Not that you'd notice either way.

a short story to vent my internal strife

i should be in bed. it's been a 17 hour day so far.

so anyway i was out gardening, and this punk comes up to me and he's like "whatever," so i asked for his hand in marriage but then i got hit by a bus.
or something.
this is not a good story. maybe i should spell everything wrong.
lkie thsoe funy gis... dat cant spell proplery cbecaese theyre dyslexic... ashashafh... wait, is pelt that wright... wati, not i didnt... h i think i was laughtimg at dysleixc peop,el, LOL

um... right...
so anyway, do you think i say "so anyway" too much?
actually, i don't even care.

wuh?

so my blog is all of a sudden not good enough for y'all? where'd my hits go? why do you not come flocking? is it the new url? is it the new colour scheme? is it the steadily decrease in quality of posts? or do you have a good excuse?

i'm still going for the "blogs of note" section. so there

Smashing

Did I just use that pun? Oh no, what is becoming of me? Take me outside and shoot me, now, do it.

I smashed a window.

: s

I have an excuse. It's a bad one, but still...

I was playing football with Perran and Ben, and they started bickering (apparently they were "joking") so I was like, "Children, desist or I shall smite thee" and they were like "*punch, kick*" so I was like "*punt*" and I honestly swear it should have hit Perran right in the derriere. As it happens it hit three inches to his right and *bam*, glass everywhere.

It stopped Perran and Ben fighting though, they were in fits for the next half-hour.

meh

do you ever get it when you post something that's ironically funny and exaggerated and stuff and then people take you seriously and it's like... woah man, i didn't mean it like that, children in Africa...

i'm still really hungry tho'

bleh

do you ever get it when you're so unbelievably hungry you might die?

that's me, right now

i haven't eaten since like six-thirty yesterday or something...

i deserve better!

lunch in five minutes

April Fools

Oh yeah, I forgot to say, I'm dead. I won't be posting here any more.


Um.. April Fools!

Anyone? No?

Hardest Part

Ironically enough, recording "Hardest Part" was far easier than recording "Good Enough?" Yes folks, that's what I did today; mix one of Hardest Part is in the bag.
And I got the sweetest sound out of the drums (the downfall was that I was playing the drums) using just three dynamic mics and hot-rods.

Also featuring a Bono Jovi-esque guitar solo and a sweet, U2-style guitar riff. Obviously, influences are everything.
The thing is, I love being creative (well, more the opposite: I hate being stuck in the boring, mundane ol' thing) so I'm trying to incorporate as many sounds and styles as possible. Never mind that "Good Enough?" and ""Hardest Part" are both guitar driven, have similar chord-sequences and basically sound rather samey. The point is...

uh...

I'll come to the point in a minute. So anyway, I was really excited about how "Hardest Part" turned out, i.e. it was better than "Good Enough?" (admittedly my brother singing in the shower sounds better than "Good Enough?") and I'd share the love right away but I'll wait 'til I've got 5 songs. I might even have finished before Easter (now I'll never finish it, having said that).

Just for the record I'm still playing everything and recording everything and mixing everything so needless to say, quality aside, it's gonna take some time.

A Letter

I was browsing through my notebook this morning and found this "letter" I wrote, probably in a moment of immense boredom (possibly in a lesson). I don't know what was going through my head, but I fear it may still be there...

Dear sir,
You will not be surprised to discover that I am writing to you regarding your badgers, and judging by my formal address you must anticipate that the content of this letter is neither appreciative of your badgeers nor, quite frankly, appreciative of you.
But if this sounds negative or aggressive, I beg you! Read on! I am not finished.
It was not two days ago that I went to see Mr Farell's Exploding Badger Show, and I must admit that I was not unimpressed by the first act - the way that you have trained the badgers to play Fur Elise on the Penny Whistle before blowing themselves up is rather inspiring.
It was on act two - The Act Where The Badgers Explode Amidst The Audience - that you crossed the line. I believe I recall the trainer (yourself) calling something alike to "Now, my pretties! Burn them, destroy them, I will make martyrs of you all," before indicating that the badgers should detonate their explosives.
Quick reflexes and a bullet proof vest were all that saved my life. The others around me were not so lucky.
I must request that you remove this second act from your show or I may proceed to take legal action.
I wish you and your show all the best,
Your Sincerely

Robin Mitchell
Thing

Blood

I re-opened a cut on my knee this morning (by mistake) and look! The blood has soaked through my jeans!

Shocking!





(This isn't a plea for sympathy... more of a call for new jeans)