Jah Jah Dub

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

Just did a music quiz on BBCi. (here) Didn't realise it was being run by Radio Shropshire. Got all the questions right. Apart from the ones about Shropshire.

I urge you to check out this Amazon Top 10 by Jenny Grouse, student nurse. These are books that everyone must read. Well, thanks Jenny for letting us in on these gems, if it hadn't been for your erudition and adventurous spirit I may never have found them.

Oh yeah, the house party is now set for the 16th August. Come, bring your friends, it should be skill. Particularly bring your female friends. It's not just that I'm the filth, more that none of us seem to know many girls and I don't really want it to be forty blokes competing on games consoles for an evening.

Don't worry little ones. I'm back. We don't have an internet in our house yet and I've been working in various shitty departments over the last couple of days and can't sneak any "blogging" time.

Know it's been a while since I last rapped at ya, but I'm drawing a blank at the moment on the 438 things I've thought of to write about since Friday...

Still, I'll be back later. (Also, I'm on icq today, if any of you cats are...)


Friday, July 25, 2003

Probably will anyway.

I have to pack though.

Really fancy getting pissed tonight now.

I've spent the whole freaking afternoon trying to get a banker's draft for my freaking rent for this freaking estate agent. (A banker's draft? What the fuck is a banker's draft? I'm surprised it doesn't have to be delivered by carrier pigeon.) Spend whole lunch break in the Barclays waiting for a personal banker. (They told me on the phone yesterday that I needed one.) Finally get there and find out I could have gone straight to a cashier. And I need two forms of ID... for some reason. I didn't have two forms of ID.

So I have to take the rest of the afternoon off work, which I won't get paid for. I go home, pick up my passport and go to Clapham Barclays. Inside is a junkie kicking off because they need ID.

Junkie: I am Mr Deal!
Teller: You need ID, sir.
Junkie: But I am Mr Deal! I make all the deals. Mr Deal, I make all the deals... in the universe...

Eventually I get served. The cashier doesn't know how to do it so hands my passport and form to some mysterious woman backstage. Eventually she comes looking for me with the precious draft.

Girl: Are you Mr Johnston?
Me: I am.
Girl: Sorry, I couldn't remember what you looked like.
Me: That's flattering. My features should be burnt onto your heart by now. (I said the second part in my head.)
Girl: Bye, thanks for waiting.

So it wasn't all bad.

Right. Well, I didn't get offered a job. I'd like to say it's their loss, but it clearly isn't, bright graduates willing to whore for The Man are two a penny. Or 40 for each job, if you prefer. Anyway, don't leave any comments on this entry/call me or anything. I'm fine, I know I'm great, I've moved on. Let's just pretend it never happened...

The comedy hierarchy, from best to worst:

1) Puns
2) Prat-falls
3) One liners
4) Impressions
5) Satire
6) Surrealism

The best films ever. No arguments please.

1) Singing in the Rain
2) The Italian Job
3) ET
4) Rear Window
5) Dazed and Confused
6) Mary Poppins
7) Psycho
8) Goodfellas
9) Gremlins
10) Wayne's World


Thursday, July 24, 2003

Oh yeah. And I have a ticket for the Stones.



I think I met my dream woman today.

Background: Yesterday, two of the women I work with were talking about the new temp who works in one of the other teams.

Debbie: Have you seen her? She's really pretty.
Judy: We should introduce her to Alistair, he's single.

(They turn towards me. I blush.)

Debbie: Yeah, she's lovely. Pretty (hey!), slim (hey!) and tall (hmmmm). She has dreadlocks. (Aargh.)
Me: Well, thanks, but I don't want to be set up with some fucking soap dodger. (Of course I did not say this, I have added it for comic effect.)


I saw her and we started talking. I thought that she was quite pretty, noticed the freakish stature (possibly as tall as 5'9") and winced at the dreadlocks. She seemed quite nice, obviously a fairly posh girl slumming it.

And then...

Hannah: I've just come back from abroad.
Me: Oh yeah? Where have you been?
Hannah: In Mauritius... I've spent the last 6 months studying lemurs...

(I try to stifle my delighted smile)

Hannah: I want to do a Master's degree in primate behaviour...

By this stage her dreads are floating in the air, the background is swirling around her, and in my head, "dreeeeaaaam weeeaaaver, I bel-ieve you can get me through the ni-iiighhht...".

Before I get some ridiculous comments like: "What are you going to do?" or "hows it going?" or "Have you asked her out yet?" I'd like to point out the following...

1) This is me. Remember?
2) I don't actually fancy her particularly, although o.i.w., I'm only mentioning it because of the monkey thing.

Just opened my birthday present from my Dad. It included a big bath towel with "Arse Face" written on it.

Sure didn't see that one coming.

Edging ever closer to a Stones ticket. That's right, a Stones ticket. That means I might see Bowie and the Stones this year. If only it was 31 years ago, then they'd be touring 'Ziggy...' and 'Exile...'. Still, it's all good.

Days until I move house: 2
Items packed: 0
Items thrown away: 0
Vans booked: 0
Phone lines sorted out: 0
Number of people who know new address: 0
Rounds of Mario Golf played in last 2 days: 6


Tuesday, July 22, 2003

Can't believe I missed Princess Superstar off my top women in music list. Think she's probably number 2. May have to revisit it at some point.

Favourite TV programmes watched with parents in the early 1990s:

1) Lovejoy
2) Men Behaving Badly
3) Waterfront Beat
4) Moon and Son
5) Trainer
6) Casualty
7) Athletics
8) That's Entertainment
9) Noel's House Party
10) Paul Daniels Magic Show

See also: Telly Addicts

T-shirt idea - Centrifugal Chimp

Well, that sure was intensity in 10 cities, live at Budokan. No idea which way it went. Either way, I ain't never worrying about a selection process again. Except perhaps if I wanted to be an astronaut. Don't really fancy that centrifugal thing with the gurning chimp on the other end.

Points of note:

1) I seemed to bring out the paternal side of the psychologist. He started talking about his relationship with his son and said "May the Force be with you", at the end of the interview. Not sure if this is good or bad.

2) During the "issues" interview I had to brainstorm on the questions, "Is Britain a true democracy? If not, what would you do to make it so?" I started by saying I'd have a second chamber picked at random from the population, like jury service, with the power to overturn any decisions made by the lower chamber. (Elected by proportional representation.) Then I decided that was a bit softcore, so went for people electing "debators" who would sit in the chamber jaw-jawing about proposed legislation. The voting would be done by individuals in their houses using a button on their tv-internets. A parliament of 60 million!

It rocked his world.


Monday, July 21, 2003

Aw, fuck this. I was going to do some more preparation for the so-called "Civil Service Faststream". Sure can't be arsed now. Think I'll just go to bed and watch "Dead Ringers". I might get up at six tomorrow and do it then. I always find my best work is done *just* when it's absolutely necessary. Interviewer questions, "How do you work under pressure? How do you cope with deadlines?" If only you knew, The Man, if only you knew.

Rock and Roll!

Well, the psychologist thing went OK. It was a bit more "So, tell me about your mother," than I expected, but relatively painless.

Slightly concerned about the lack of chicks there. * Don't want to be working with a load of try-hard men. Try hard women are bad enough, but at least I might poke them.

* For the record, there were about 6 girls there. 2 of them were alright, the others were pretty shocking. I would though. All of them. Obviously.

Well, this is a bit of a world of pain. Team exercise? OK, I think.

Proposal? Pretty shitty. No where near enough time. My hand still hurts from writing.

Management exercise? Not sure. OK, but again, could have done with another half an hour.

Just the psychologist to go... That should be interesting.

Maybe I should have started preparing for this civil service thing before now...

Woke up at quarter to three, haven't slept since. Just been sick. Feel terrible. Brilliant.


Friday, July 18, 2003

Actually, do what you want. Different strokes for different folks, innit?

Anyone who has an opinion, anyone with a hobby, anyone who is religious, anyone who is atheist, anyone who cares about anything, anyone who tries to draw attention to themselves in any way to make themselves seem different can all fuck off. You're all wrong and wasting your time. You're not different, you're worthless. The same as everyone else.

Top 10 Most Try Hard Things You Can Do.

1) Be a comedian – “Oooh, look at me, I’m funny, I can make you laugh, listen to my jokes, I think that I’m so special you should come and hear me crack wise, and that you should pay for the privilege.” Fuck off.

2) Be an actor – “Look at me act, look at me express emotion by furrowing my brow, love me! Love me!” Fuck off.

3) Be an artist – “Look at my painting/sculpture, aren’t I good at representing things through some medium or other…” Fuck off.

4) Be a musician – “Listen to these sounds. Aren’t these sounds great? I think that these sounds I’m making are so important, I will ask you to pay me money for them. And I will ask with a straight face.” Fuck off.

5) Be a politician – “I think that I know best for everyone, and you should listen to me, for some reason.” Fuck off.

6) Be a sportsman – “I demand your respect and awe because I can run faster than you/kick a ball better than you etc. Not only am I proud of this, but I have actually practiced this every day because I think it’s so important. I am Jonathan Edwards, I do the hop skip and jump for a living.” Fuck off.

7) Be a writer – “Read my wisdom. I think that my thoughts should be recorded forever onto paper and bound so that mere mortals may read them for all eternity. I really am arrogant enough to think that my trite observations and sloppy characterisation earns me a place on shelves, in people’s houses, forever!” Fuck off.

8) Having a career – “Not only do I think that doing things for people for money is intrinsically right in some way, but I actually take it seriously. I want to earn more beans but more importantly I want a bigger desk and people below me that I can feel superior too. I do this because I have no personality of my own and so can only define myself through labels others put on me. I am a manager, therefore I am in some important way, better than you.” Fuck off.

9) Voicing an opinion on anything ever – “Listen to my voice! Listen to my wisdom! I really think that I actually know something and will force it onto other people. You see? You understand what I’m saying? There, I’ve brought you with me, you agree! In some way this makes me feel better even though deep down I suspect that I’m worthless and probably wrong.” Fuck off.

10) Writing a list like this – “Look at me, I think I’m really subversive and crazy by attacking things that most people consider admirable! Feel my fake superiority to you all and realise that by opting out of everything I am never a failure. Feel my fear of failure!” Fuck off me.

Instead of having pissy friendlies and meaningless tournaments after the football season has ended, why don’t all the European leagues make up All Star teams and play each other?. Everyone in the Premiership votes for the best player in each position and a manager. Then we can see Henry and Van Nistelroy playing together, trying to get one past Oliver Kahn. It’d be amazing. And the TV audiences would be enormous, which you’d think would be reason enough nowadays.

Oh yeah, I completely forgot the lowest point of the Dour festival. The fucking Stereo MCs pissing away the crowd’s goodwill by telling them off for not being enthusiastic enough. Well, I’m sorry you fucking soap-dodger but it’s your job to get us excited, and we’ve just seen the Wailers so you’d better be good. Look, you’ve got your pop immortality, “Connected” is going to be played at “discos” and wedding receptions for the next twenty years, so why don’t you just fuck off? We don’t need you anymore.


Thursday, July 17, 2003

A small prize for anyone who says "Permission to board?" before having sex with someone for the first time. Extra points if they respond with "Permission granted." If afterwards you wipe yourself on their curtains, pull your clothes on, point at them, wink and say "Stay lucky" before walking out then I am yours forever.

Hmmm. Threesome with Trinny and Susanna... my top fantasy ever? Don't even really fancy them individually, they're such a twofor.

And PLEASE stop using "ambivalent" when you mean "neutral". It's not the same thing at all.

Please stop putting "-ski" at the end of words to make them sound Russian. I did GCSE Russian and I NEVER saw a word ending in "-ski." So fuck off with your "Chelski". Say "Chyelovik" or something. Not as snappy but at least it works.

The same goes for mobile phones. NEVER talk to me about your fucking mobile, I really couldn't care less. I don't care about your "funny" ringtone, I don't care about your crazy, ironic phone cover, I don't care about it taking pictures and I especially don't care about how small it is. You wouldn't talk about a landline phone to your friends so shut up for one fucking moment about your fucking phone. I don't care which one you buy, leave me alone, they're all the same, do you even need a new one? Fuck off and leave me be.

The above is true for all except James. His plays "Hello" by Lionel Richie. That is cool.

Why does putting a normal person in a car turn them into a cunt? All drivers are fucking idiots. Ooooh, we hate speed limits, ooohh, we shouldn't be "penalised" for using the roads, oooh, petrol is so expensive. FUCK OFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!! Oh yeah, speed cameras, they're terrible, aren't they? Fancy the government trying to enforce laws! There should also be fewer police on the streets of course, can't believe they bust people for mugging. FUCK OFF. Just fuck off right now. And don't talk to me about your car, I couldn't give a shit. I don't care how fast it goes or how big it is or what the stereo is like. You may as well try and talk about your washing machine to me. Just shut the fuck up about anything to do with motoring, roads, anything.

I hate all drivers, without exception. They should all fuck off, and take their fucking "cars" with them.

I still like "Top Gear" though.

Thinking about having a house-warming party around mid-August sometime. Wanna come? Trying to get an idea of numbers. Bring your friends!


Wednesday, July 16, 2003

This is a real e-mail I've just received at work.

Attitude, after all, is everything.

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry
about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

After all today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.
Yvonne Murray - Filing Supervisor


Tuesday, July 15, 2003

Top 5 Women Ever. (Or possibly in music, at the moment there is some overlap.)

1) Sarah Blackwood. (But only as Client A, not in dubstar.)
2) Ronnie Spector.
3) Nina from the Cardigans. *
4) Sarah Cracknell.
5) Wendy James.

Please note: at least most of these are making up the numbers.

* Yes, I am aware that her name is Nina Persson. However, I would have to call her "Nina from the Cardigans" at all times. Would you like a drink, Nina-from-the-Cardigans? Would you like to come in for some coffee, Nina-from-the-Cardigans? What would you like for breakfast, Nina-from-the-Cardigans? etc etc

My plan of stalking Client A from Client has foundered a little now I've found out that she is Sarah Blackwood (also here) from dubstar. This may reduce my chances of scoring with her.

Yes. I really am this cool.

Sorry, but the Dour festival is all I'm going to be talking about for a while...


The Belgians.
"Hey Man! Get out of my fucking sleeping bag! Das ist verboten."
Climbing the "mountain".
Andy Fletcher's DJ set, especially the shameless choice of three Depeche Mode songs, "Rebel Rebel" and "Blue Monday".
The Tokyo Paradise Ska Orchestra.
Falling in love with That girl from That band.
2 Many DJs' set, especially when they dropped in "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce.
The Skatalites. (Jah! Jah! Jah! Jah! Jah! Jah! Rastafaraiiiiiii!)
The Wailers.
Belgian Hip Hop.
Realising that reggae is so obviously better than rock.
The weather.
Sandy, a delightful surprise.

More or less everything.


Not meeting and eventually marrying That girl.
Getting hit on by the festival's only gay man. (Should have seen that one coming.)

That's about it really.


Monday, July 14, 2003

Well, that was fucking excellent. Details to follow.



Wednesday, July 09, 2003

Well, I'm going to Belgium for a few days to get all fucked up and shit and I doubt I'll be "blogging". So, amuse yourselves while I'm away, I'm sure I'll have more tedious bollocks for you on Monday.

Current texts on my phone.

1) Mrs Krabapple of Simpsons fame. Alice Beer that used to be on Watchdog. You would, again and again.
2) rhod ghilbert. remember that name... he won the prize tonight and is ace. i could have had him too, he was well up 4 it. mobbing with norman lovetu tonight too
3) Ian Brown. ian wright. ian pooley. ian mcEwan. ian dunlop. ian thorpedo.

I saw a woman the other day who looked like one of Les Demoiselles d'Avignon. But not in a bad way.


Tuesday, July 08, 2003

ICQ conversation with Kelvin.

K: One evening, "The Equalizer", Smiths Ready Salted Square crisps, some no label Dandelion and Burdock... what I wouldn't give.

Flicked over to Graham Norton last night. (Don't judge me.) Imagine my surprise to see a heavily pregnant Molly Ringwold and a man I can only describe as, "Coolio". I would have thought them the original odd couple, if I hadn't seen Shane Warne and Beyonce Knowles uncomfortably sharing chat last time I watched the show. (Time before was k. d. lang and Tony Bennett, who are quite an odd couple, but are both singers, so not quite as surprising.)


Monday, July 07, 2003

Top 10 Computer Games of All Time.

1) Mario Golf (N64)
2) Danger UXB (Acorn Electron)
3) Wing Commander (PC 386)
4) Tetris (Gameboy)
5) ISS Pro Evolution (Playstation)
6) Civilisation III (PC)
7) Anna Kournikova Smash Court Tennis (Playstation)
8) Street Fighter Alpha (Playstation)
9) Loom (PC - 386)
10) Outrun (Arcade)

Went with James to Games Station yesterday to watch him not buy an X-Box again. Ended up buying an N64. Which I didn't see coming. Also, "Goldeneye" and "Mario Golf", which may just be the finest game ever made.

Adults. Reading Harry Potter on the tube. With no shame! Extraordinary.


Sunday, July 06, 2003

They played "Since You've Been Gone," by Rainbow.
"Debaser" by the Pixies.
"Ca Plane Pour Moi", Plastic Betrand.
"Mirror Man", Human League.
"Big Mouth Strikes Again", The Smiths.

I'm so going there for my birthday. Stop it.

Of course the "'shrooms". Of course the "pot". Of course the "booze". Of course "Duckie".

Go hard. Or go home.

I went hard.


Saturday, July 05, 2003

Of course I had some 'shrooms about 2 hours ago. What's the big deal? No problems here.

Of course I look nothing like Scott from Big Brother.


Friday, July 04, 2003

Shit. Just realised I forgot to take The New Guy back to Blockbuster. Brilliant. That film was really worth paying a 3 day fine on. I could have bought it for that. If I was insane.

Who do you think was Paul Ross's best man? (He returned the favour.) Answer on Monday.

Stop it.

Just done this shit. Quite interesting I suppose.


-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

I rule.

Well, looks like I'm running this whole department again today. (Usual staff: 3) Of course I'm on my own. Of course I'm going to be on the internet all day.

Not so sure now that Stefan is Paolo Di Canio. Think he may be Nicolas Anelka.


Thursday, July 03, 2003

Don't know if you'll read this boys, but icq is all kinds of fucked-up, I'm not fronting on you. Anything you were trying to say stick on the "Comments" or e-mail etc. You know the drill.

Channel 4. 21:00. Rod Hull: A Bird In The Hand. Genius.

James: You can call me on 020 (7) 951 1614

Well, looks like I'll be spending my birthday in Belgium. Didn't see that one coming.


Wednesday, July 02, 2003

There's a woman here who looks like she's come straight from central casting for a "Why.... Miss Jones.... you're beautiful" spectacles-removal moment.

Just finished reading this. Useful for backing up the correct opinion that Muhammed Ali is the most overrated figure of the Twentieth Century. Little more than a simpleton who happened to be a bit "handy", he has been sanctified by a generation who were barely born when he was in his prime. He had no political insight whatsoever and his supposed heroism in refusing the draft (although he never burned his card) came from his manipulation by the ludicrous Nation of Islam. You may disagree with me, but you're wrong.

Some guy just walked past whistling "The Model" by Kraftwerk.

Yesterday at kareoke. James put me down as A-Dogg. After I sang the MC was all like, "Ricky Martin, fantastic. Big hand for The Dogg."


Just in Pret a Manger. Most English exchange ever:

-Sorry, can I just...

Vitamin pills.
Lemon Lucozade.
Marlboro Light.
Salt and Vinegar crisps.

In that order.

I'm far too used to this.

Gotta love rolling into work an hour and a half late...

Oh for fuck's sake.

You go out to discuss living arangements with Joe and you end up singing Ricky Martin in a gay club at two o'clock in the morning.
So, I woke up at 8.05.
I'm not getting in until at least 10.00.
I feel the ab-sol-ute filth.
I've just had a half hour shower.
Just remembered, James and I danced to Rock Your Body on the stage. Obviously this was the only time anyone went on there all night.
Got an e-mail last night. Who was that from?
Sure am glad I decided not to delete/edit posts I've written under the influence.
Rachel was terrible, she looked like a Fraggle.
I told that other girl that she had "an awesome voice". Completely shameless. Presumably I meant to say, "body".
Don't remember what I wrote last night. Just that I wrote it extremely slowly. Oh look, I spelt Cotton Eye incorrectly.

Oh for fuck's sake.

Sure am pissed.

OK, so I'm fucking wasted. We went for a summit meeting, me, James and Joe. Sure did end up in the 2 Brewers. James sung Cotton I Joe. It was awesome. I sang "Shake Your..." apparently it was too earnest. I'm not sure how that's possible. Where are you Rachel, you were the absolute filth! I love you. Sure do hope our paths cross again. You rotter.


Tuesday, July 01, 2003

Just had a reply from the Onion. (No explanations for those who don't understand already.) That was unexpected. angelface20 for those with ways and means.

Van outside delivering soup. On side, "Thick, Tasty & Chunky - Just Like Our Drivers!" Imagine driving that around all day. Poor bastard.


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