Can this really get kick-started again?

I haven't written on this in over a year, my God... Is it for some incredibly interesting reason involving myself, a jar of honey and some fire ants? Sadly not, I just haven't had a single relevant thing to say over the last year. As I'm sure the people who've spent that time with me have noticed.

However, against everyone's better judgement I'm going to try and write something on here, and do what I used to do all those years ago - which was rant and complain about everything I can think of. And in the middle of exam period too! God, what a massive exercise in procrastination this is...

EXAMS!!! What a massive waste of time they are! Certainly, they are a much better way to ensure nobody cheats and doesn't steal another's ideas... but then why inflict a massive amount of coursework on us too?! And basing a large percentage of our degrees on these essays and dissertations that we can apparently cheat on?!

This has probably all been brought about by the ongoing exam fever that's hit most people between 16 and 21. For a few months of the year, most teenagers are turned into hermits whilst being forced to lose themselves in reams of paper and books about subjects that quite often don't have any relevance in their day-to-day lives. It's one of the most demoralising experiences an ordinary adolescent can live through. And soon we'll be paying nine grand for it too...

I've just realised I've started to go all Jeremy Clarkson/Charlie Brooker, perhaps I should tone it down a bit...

If you're looking for some not-so-cheap thrills (cinema tickets are ridiculous nowadays, even for students), "Insidious" is still out. I saw it a few days ago, and it reminded me very much of "Drag Me To Hell", in it's style, it's graphics, it's music, it's odd way of creeping you out, but being very much in your face at the same time... If you liked "Drag Me To Hell", you'll probably enjoy this at some level. If you didn't, well, there are far worse ways to spend your afternoon. It has enough jump factor to keep you entertained for a couple of hours (and it does go on for over two hours, so don't buy a large drink!) but won't leave you with horrible thoughts of demons coming for you in your sleep. Unless you're afraid of your own shadow, like me, but then you've got far bigger problems...

Talking about creepy, what about the new Dr Who series?! Hard to believe it's been on a month already... but those first two episodes were great, I thought, with those creepy aliens with the lighting and weird mouths and three fingers... though how those pirates ever got into outer space is beyond me... but could the Doctor really be dead? And when are we going to learn what really happens between him and River Song?! I have a horrible feeling it was her who killed him, but I'm probably a million miles off the mark...

Finally managed to play in Jazz After Dark last night. Strange little place, I couldn't tell if it was buzzing or not. I was backing Corliss Randall, with Jeff somebody on keys, and he had this strange little gadget that turned his left hand into a bass-sound, with drums, I don't know what it was but it certainly helped! Played/sang a lot of the old jazz standards and New Orleans hits, very fun night indeed, especially with Corliss' unique brand of banter. Hopefully we'll be back there at some point, it's always a good laugh, worth checking out, hint hint. Might even be able to squeeze in the Squintet there at some point, so watch this space...

I've noticed I finish all my paragraphs by trailing off, I've got to be more assured that I've finished saying what I have to say...

That's about it, the last week has mainly been about sitting in my room banging my head on the wall, trying to cram as much info about WW2 into my head as possible before next Tuesday. Hopefully when I write again next week I'll have some more interesting stories to tell...

'Til then, bon nuit!

Simmonds Eh What?

That'll probably be the title to my first album, an homage to the great Charles Mingus' "Mingus Ah Um." First I actually have to write some music, which sounds much too like work to me. It's going to be a long year.

Well, it's now 2010. "Really?!" I hear you shout sarcastically. Well, yes, really, it is. So far it's been an odd start to the year. Precipitation seems to have brought the country to its knees - a Polish girl at halls today told me that the BBC abroad were calling this an "Armageddon for the Englishman" - but it does look rather beautiful, and makes a change from the drizzle that usually plagues us at this time of year. People just have to man up and resolve to at least TRY and get to work through the rather thin layer of snow and ice still pervading in London.

This really annoyed me on Thursday - I went to the bank to open my Student Account (I know, I should have probably dealt with it earlier, but I'm a disorganised sod) through the then slightly thicker snow and ice. Having struggled there for about 20 minutes, I waited in line for another 15 before eventually arriving at a cashier's desk.

"Hi, I'd like to open a Student Account please."

"I'm sorry, due to adverse weather conditions none of our financial advisors could make it in today..."

Proceed to hit head in frustration against whatever I can find.

If I hear that one more thing in London has been shut due to "adverse weather conditions" I shall give up hope and move to America, like my forefathers.

They didn't go to America, but some of them went to Ireland.

Well, I was going to say something else, but in my rage I have forgotten what I was going to say. So let's move on to Pogs.

Does anyone remember Pogs? They were the first big craze that I can remember, but I don't really remember what they were, apart from round pieces of cardboard with a scary picture on them. I was talking to someone on Facebook about them, and apparently you had to have a massive plastic Pog to play and win Pogs off of other people, but I never had one, which explains why I never really excelled...

I'm back in Hampstead now (NW3 BRAP!!!) and very pleased to say I have no work, revision or exams to do, which I know will piss off all the other Hampstead Halls residents. Let me just say, it's not so easy having all this time off. I have nothing to do, and no imagination with which to fill up my day. Next time you're working hard, stressing about exams, take a moment to think just how hard it is for me at the moment. Thank you.

Well, I've taken up enough of your time for now, 'til next time, keep warm, don't eat yellow snow, and respect ginger people. We have feelings too.

Back by Unpopular Demand

Well, I've returned from my long break to the world of blogging. Why you ask? Damned if I know...

I rejoin you at the end of the year, when Christmas has just finished and now people are looking forward to doing some crazy shit for NYE 2009, as the youngsters call it now. Someone told me that they're planning on attending a party where everyone arrives at a certain destination, is blindfolded, packed onto a bus and then driven to a secret location, where the party actually takes place. Can you imagine that happening in London?! I wouldn't like to think where you'd end up after allowing a stranger to blindfold you and drive you somewhere...

So New Year's Resolutions are going to be the hot topic now, as people vainly promise that they'll get fit in the new year, or stop watching telly as often. How many times I've told myself that this year will be different, but I'm sure this year WILL be different... I don't know what I'll promise to do yet, but whatever it is it's going to be very easy. What are your plans, out there in the real world? Even thought about it?

Personally I'm more excited about New Year's Eve. Christmas is all well and good, but it lacks the sheer "get wasted and do weird stuff" spirit that comes with NYE. Not that that's a morally good thing by any stretch of the imagination, but you only live once. Well, unless you're Hindu of course, then you might get another crack at it. ANYWAY, I'd just like to sycophantically wish everyone a great New Year's Eve, and a great new year for that matter, until it gets to February and everyone gives up hope.

I've felt very removed being at university. I still get the news, but not having a television seems to remove me somewhat. I didn't feel very Christmassy at all this year; usually, from November I have the T.V. harping away at me, making me want to buy things and filling me with festive cheer, but not this year. I didn't even hear much of the music, so when it came to Christmas it was quite a shock. The highlight though had to be the Dr. Who episode - what on Earth (and beyond) is going on?! Return of the Time Lords? Exciting stuff. The geek in me revelled in the possibilities of what this could mean. But what it does signify is the end of David Tennant's stint as the Doctor, which is a shame, as I liked him in many different and disturbing ways. So here's to you chap, you will now only ever be remembered as the Doctor, however your career pans out.

Well, I've taken up enough of your time, until the next one, enjoy yourselves irresponsibly.

The RULES???

Has anyone else heard of these incredibly sexist blasphemies known as "The Rules"? They are a set of ten guidelines that women should follow in order to meet "Mr. Right" and eventually trap in the unholy bonds of marriage.

You might think, what's so bad about that? In today's society, when men are often seen as sexist pigs who abuse women, who would blame them for wanting to find a good man who will take care of them? It's fair enough.

WRONG!

It is almost as if the two women who write this drivel are trying to turn the tables on men, by being as insensitive and crass as the men they claim to be chasing. Although, as one of their "golden rules" states, "Men chase women."

Bull-hockey!

Men get just as raw a deal in modern society now as women. In countless television shows, mostly American sit-coms, men are portrayed as childish and dopey, whom women constantly turn down and ridicule, whereas the women are beautiful, successful and constantly the attention of dozens of guys, whom they periodically turn down and ridicule. This is proof at least in part that women have some sort of equality in this world. Obviously it is not perfect, but some of the more puritannical women should remember that men do get a raw deal too.

Anyway, I'm still in Scotland. I'm sure you were all pondering my disappearance from society and wondering why I wasn't returning your calls.

It's beautiful here, even if it is a bit Scottish. The people are all very friendly, and the local countryside is simply gorgeous. The view from the house we're in is stunning, looking over the Atlantic and many of the local Scottish islands. Even the weather has been pretty generous, with only a couple of days of rain preventing us from venturing outdoors. We even managed to collect a bucketful of mussels from the beach and eat them in the evening. Delish!

Kate is shaking her head disapprovingly at my rant as I type. I can understand why.

The house where we're staying is the scene of the recent deaths on the trawler in northern Scotland. For a couple of days we could see the upturned hull as it floated in the loch, but now it is gone, taken away by a much larger ship with cranes. Exciting stuff.

Anyway I think that's enough raw material to start off August. Hope you're all having a good holiday, and I'll see you all soon.

And now for something completely different...

Well, not really. It's going to be more of the same old complaining drivel as usual. In these times of economic downturn and war, change is something people really don't want to see, so I'm not going to upset anyone.

Who would've thought that accents could make such a big difference to a girl being attractive? When I was in Alton Towers, there were plenty of lookers, but then they'd open their mouths and from them would come words so garbled by their strange dialect it made one want to fall to the ground screaming, clutching at one's ears. So, obviously, the Midlands dialect doesn't sit well with me. Maybe they think that my accent is terrible, and they'd like nothing better than to punch me in my southern mouth.

Of course, that is ridiculous, as I have a sublime voice.

Despite that, they would probably not hesitate in attacking anyway.

There's nothing worse than realising that you have more in common with old(er) people than you do with your contemporaries. When I returned my book that I got with the tokens I won for the History prize, Humphrey Lyttleton's autobiography, I ended up having a fairly long chat with Mrs. Adams about the man, not only for his radio work but for his work as a jazz trumpeter, which then led to us talking about the British jazz scene in the 1950's. The worst thing about it is, I actually ENJOYED talking about it! Oh DEAR.

On the plus side, I am now completely prepared to endure a zombie uprising. Everyone to my house and we'll slaughter the fuckers!

It always works in the films.

On the plus side, I managed to shut everyone up about my valve trombone. They all thought it was uncool, but then they saw me playing and thought twice. Yes, I am just that cool.

Don't deny it.

I've been thinking...

Always a dangerous thing to hear me say. It is often followed by some incredibly badly thought out political argument, or a plan which everyone seems to agree with, but in actual fact couldn't give two...

Anyway, why is it that flies have evolved with an incredibly complex array of sensors that help them navigate their way around... and yet they never choose the right bloody window to fly out of! They always go for the ones that are shut or don't even open. Even if they are confused by their sensory thing surely they can feel the breeze emanating from the window barely 3 inches to their left! It's just inconsiderate, that's what it is.

I also noticed that when I have my bag on, and my shadow is played out in front of me, I look like my trousers are hanging low, much like the gangsters wear them. ("Gangsters", they don't know the meaning of the word.) I feel proud.

Well, very little is going on at the moment, which is probably good considering I'm on holiday. I haven't gone to bed before 12 for a few days now, which really can't be doing me much good. What with all this heat, I should be dead by now. I'm going to put it down to sheer pluck that I'm still alive.

I'm getting a valve trombone! "What's that?" I hear you cry. "Who cares?" comes another solitary call from the back of the room. It's basically a trombone but with trumpet valves instead of a slide. See, makes sense doesn't it? It's very exciting news for me anyway.

Doesn't life seem a bit empty without the dread of school hanging over us? I have no direction anymore, except to keep playing trombone and reading, lest my mind go mad! How are you all dealing with the stress of nothingness?

It's a dichotomy that we complain about school when we're there, but lament about its disappearance from our lives. Rather like the weather. We complain when it's hot, we complain when it's cold. Is there a perfect weather condition?

That's like asking if there is a perfect state of mind. Well of course there is. It's called Death. Only in Death can we find true inner peace and be free of conflict, guilt and pride. So, everybody, on the count of 3, do that thing the Japanese soldiers did, with the swords.

Ready?

1...

2...

3...

Why are you still reading this? You should be dead!!!

Is he STILL dead?!

I bet that's what a lot of Christians are saying about Jesus as well. Not that I'm comparing Michael Jackson to our Lord Saviour. I bet ol' Jesus could've done a much better moonwalk than Jackson. And on water, too.

So yes, he's dead, but I'm not getting caught up in the massive furore surrounding his death/disappearance. I wasn't around when he was revolutionising pop music and, let's face it, I never knew the man. So let's all move on with our lives; it's not as though his music is forever gone.

What if this is just a cover though, and he's been cryogenically frozen? In 60 years time we could see the miraculous return of Michael Jackson (and probably some radical Christians proporting the return of Jesus.) I bet it's all just a big publicity stunt. Only time will tell.

You know how pets are sometimes buried in their own cemeteries? Do celebrities get their own graveyards? Macabre memorials to the Marx brothers and Arthur Miller; it doesn't bear thinking about.

We're all signed off from school now, which means I'm trying to sign on! It's far more difficult than it looks, as I need a National Insurance number that I'm sure I've never been shown, and I have to go along to regular interviews until I get a job or start university, whichever comes first. I'm willing to bet university.

Still, the summer is looking beautiful isn't it? We're finally getting the heat, and I don't have to wear a jacket out! Watch out ladies, the muscles are coming out. And the legs. Dear God, the legs.....

The summer is good for other reasons too, gentlemen. Get out there and spread the lurrrrve!

Whilst I was writing something the other day, I wrote "remember". If any of you are familiar with the game "Uxbridge English Dictionary", I have a new meaning for "remember": to reattach one's limbs. Not the best ever but it struck me that "remember" should be the opposite to "dismember". Just a thought...