Hello hello hello. I’m back. And even though I have completely failed to bother my arse to post anything here for some time now… I am back. Back again. Don’t panic, here I am.
This post is a bit like a hairball. A great big hairball of inane shite that I’ve been dying to cough up for ages. Maybe it’s so big now that I’ll choke to death. Who knows. Let’s find out.
A few of the things that have happened during my recent cyber-absence(s)
Nutters Die
Some sort of cosmic safety recall demanded the immediate return of Ivor Cutler, Arthur Lee, Syd Barrett and James Brown. Also reptile pesterer Steve Irwin. The planet is a measurably less interesting place without them. I take my hat off and raise a glass to them all.
When Bees Attack
I saw a news report on TV about a road accident involving angry bees for the second time in a matter of months. Amused, I checked the internet and was amazed to find that crashing into bees is, in one form or another, extremely common. See: crashed into bees.
All Tomorrows Melvins
I got a last minute ticket for the ATP Nightmare Before Christmas and jumped at the chance. I went from having never seen The Melvins to having seen them twice in twelve hours… and then three times in a week when they play Glasgow the week after for the first time in ten years.
And nobody really knew about that gig (including me) thanks to the incompetence of the promoter. Hence the ten year wait. A fact that Dale Crover pointed out as both he and the crowd waited to see if anyone was going to actually turn up to see them this time. Annoyingly the promotion was barely better this time around and for a while it was kind of embarrassing because the crowd numbered less than twenty. So I shouted to Dale to tell him that it’s the promoter who couldn’t give a fuck, not Glasgow gig-goers and how there was nowhere to actually buy tickets… but he didn’t seem to believe me. (The only place to get one in advance was online, thus incurring a total of £7 in fees on an £11 ticket.) In the end they drew an okay crowd but it’s a shame because they are definitely the best band on the planet and they probably think that nobody in Scotland gives a shit, when actually loads of people totally do, it’s just that finding out about their gigs and getting a ticket is like some sort of biblical test.
Aaanyway. They played and they totally rocked. They were even louder and heavier than you might reasonably expect. Flipper supported and they were just absolutely awesome. Bruce Loose is some frontman.
And so I managed to resolve my ten-years-without-having-seen-the-melvins issues. Well, more smash to bits than resolve. Mission accomplished.
Boy With Disemboweled Squirrel
I missed what was the single best photo opportunity of the year. It goes like this:
I am walking past the park when in the distance I see a young kid standing in the middle of the pavement doing suspiciously nothing. As I get closer I see that he’s about twelve years old and is just standing there holding up a stick like he’s standing guard or something. I see that he’s got a friend standing beside him and decide that there’s a reasonable chance an attempted mugging is about to commence.
The road is too busy to cross so I take my chances and continue my approach. As I get closer, the toerags just stand there looking like they’re not going to let me past and pointing this big stick in my direction (which has some sort of indeterminate woodland foliage type stuff hanging from it).
And then at the last minute as I’m actually trying to get past these kids, in one of those sudden reality shifts that you sometimes get, I realise that the big stick is now pointing right at me and it doesn’t have woodland foliage stuff hanging from it. It has a freshly disemboweled squirrel hanging from it.
It certainly doesn’t look like a squirrel at first glance, but it is. The ex-rodent’s entrails are unwound, dangling down and trailing on the pavement for a metre or two. It’s eyes have popped out and it’s face is mangled. The kids just have these sort of hypnotised expressions.
I’m caught totally by surprise and all I do is advise them to throw it away on the grounds of hygiene. And then only as we go our separate ways I realise that I have missed one of the greatest spontaneous photo opportunities to ever present itself.
And so it goes.
Some pictures I found kicking around in my phone
Glaswegian Weather
Business as usual for the Glaswegian weather…
A sky like Thor’s arsehole. Rain pissing on you long enough to make your bones damp.
Found Photos
It’s always strange when you find an anonymous photograph lying in the street. Here are photographs of two such photographs.
Stunt Cat
I was over at Nick‘s place when I witnessed this one. It’s difficult to make out but the arrow is actually pointing to a cat. A cat who is clearly three storeys up on a Glasgow tenement roof. I watched him casually stroll along the very edge of the gutter and up onto the tiles. The roof was obviously not made of hot tin.
Posted on Burning Salad on Sat 13th Jan, 12:46 pm
http://www.gregorwright.com/salad/hey/368/