for several reasons, i've decided to move this blog. the new one is better in every way (except spelling mistakes). hope you'll keep reading

http://www.nerdrock.wordpress.com

I'm really looking forward to seeing Art Brut this Friday. Their sound is nothing special, consisting of jaunty post punk guitar swagger with fun and sloppy lead guitar. The shining light of the band is their lyrics. Ironic, Silly, and sweet while always funny. Delivered by Eddie "This is my real singing voice" Argos' in heavily accented London banter.

Here are some of my favourite Art Brut lyrics but quite frankly nearly every song has a little gem somewhere.

" I hope this song finds you fame
I want schoolkids on buses singing your name" Emily Kane

" Got myself a brand new girlfriend,
So we went to the cinema
We came home from the cinema
We went through the front door
Up the stairs
Through her bedroom door
Onto the bedroom floor
I've seen her naked... twice!" Good Weekend

" He couldn't even get bus passes this time
Just scooters, very fast scooters" 18,000 Lira

" My little brother just discovered Rock & Roll
He's only 22 and he's out of control
He no longer listens to A-sides
He made me a tape of bootlegs and B-sides" My Little Brother

" People in love, lie around and get fat
I didn't want us to end up like that" People in Love

What is the deal with Manchester and fried chicken? The place is obsessed with the stuff. They have a particular fondness of ripping off Kentucky Fried Chicken with the following shops spotted so far...

Southern Fried Chicken
Krunchy Fried Chicken
Krispy Fried Chicken
Finger Lickin Chicken
Krazy Fried Chicken
Ray Allen's Chicken; Ray claims proudly that he was good mates with Colonel Sanders and they made sweet fried chicken love together. Elsewhere on their packaging, a legal disclaimer states that they have no conncection whatsoever with KFC.

I don't understand it. KFC is pretty minging in my opinion so I don't see why a legion of fast food places would try so desparately and obviously to copy them. And why does the food always have to be "Southern" fried? Do Northerners do something particularly foul (fowl? heehee) in their frying process?

Reading: 31 Songs, Nick Hornby.
Wanting: A new pair of converse, elite beat agents for the DS, a haircut.
CD's I wanna buy right now: LCD Soundsystem, Destroyer, Battles, Cat Stevens, Cole Porter, Brendan Benson, I'm from Barcelona.
DVDs sitting at home waiting to be watched: The Godfather, La Femme Nikita, Citizen Kane.

Loving this mario kart parody.

I don't get along with my brother. Sure, if he's in trouble or should ever need a kidney I'll be right there but we won't be planning any social events with each other.

This weekend, he and my mother came to visit me and here are a collection of quotes from him which will hopefully explain why he just infuriates me with his radiating ignorance.
Note: none of these quotes were said in jest, all were delivered with my brother's trademark unenthusiastic mumble.

"How many teams are in the Premiership? It's something like 12 isn't it?"

"I hate wireless internet. When I'm using a computer connected to wireless I can feel it. It gives me headaches. No, Swear to God! If I can sense wireless internet."

On accidentally looking at a woman's leather jacket.
"It would have been too warm for me anyway."

Going to the Trafford Centre.
Me: We're going to the Trafford Centre. Do you have change? You need to ask for a return to the Trafford Centre.
Bus arrives, with Trafford Centre written across the front.
Me: Trafford Centre please.

Brother: Old Trafford please.

I was getting the last train back to London. The big game had been a bit of a let down but the train station was still full of men singing their hearts out and pissing in corners of the station, some of them multi-tasking with mixed results. My legs were tired and I took the only remaining seat on the platform which was next to a tall floppy haired man.

"You got any skins?"

Bollocks, why do I always get the druggies and weirdos?
"No, sorry mate."

He began to sing some terrace chant but the slurred and out of key words made it difficult to make out who he was supporting. After his friend began to join in I decided to take a walk down the platform. The train was already at the station but the doors were shut, it was due to open them soon enough. As I strolled away from football's Cheech and Chong I heard the unmistakable tones of a Dublin accent. Searching for the source I found a dark haired woman impatiently pushing at the locked doors of the train while raving down her phone in frustration. She was a cute girl and her pseudo anger looked out of place and made her a little endearing.

"Someone's in a hurry?"
The lowest form of wit, being an ass, I started brilliantly.

"Yeah, I was meeting my brother here but I promised a friend I'd get back to London in time to see them as well."

"You're from Dublin aren't you?"

"I am, where are you from?"

"Same, jeez, we're all over the place..."

So we began to talk and she was nice. She told me her name was called Katherine, "with a K" she highlighted. She told me she was a photographer. I had never thought about it before but as we talked about it she made me realise that a  photographer is a really attractive occupation in a woman. Creative yet practical and you can make a living off it if you don't mind doing the boring shots as well as the arty farty stuff. She was going to move to NY in a few months to start a job there. I told her about my work and how I just moved to London. I didn't want to make out that I was a loser that hadn't made any friends there yet but I must  have implied something to that effect.

"I remember when I first moved to London, I didn't know anyone but it's great fun after a while. Hey, you must be in the same boat now. We should go out and you can meet my friends, or we can just go out for coffee or something. Let me give you my number."

Jesus, out of nowhere I was suddenly with a sexy New York bound photographer who was offering ME her number without me even asking. And she wasn't even drunk (although I don't think she was sober either). The train doors opened and as we got onboard she put her arm around me and gave a little squeeze.

"This is great, a new Irish friend. We're going to have so much fun together!" and she gave me little kiss on my cheek.

Wow, this girl actually wants me! The phone number could have been patriotic sympathy but the kiss was definitely more. She was right, this was going to be great. We got on the train and sat together. We talked some more and after a little while she put her head on my shoulder and said she was knackered and asked (ever so sweetly) if she could sleep on my lap. I did the gentlemanly thing of course. I rested my hand on her shoulder and as she lay down across. As she got comfortable she gently nestled her side of her face over my crotch.

This was amazing, look at me world!

(she snuggled a little bit, a familiar tingle)

Shit! Shit! Think unsexy thoughts! Think unsexy thoughts! This could be the best woman you'll ever meet and you're about to blow it by waking her with your penis poking her ear. Think about Andrex puppies getting hit by cars, think about malignant melanoma just don't think about her soft lips caressing... No! Puppies hit by cars! puppies and cars!

Disaster was averted, just. As Katherine drifted deeper into sleep the snuggling stopped so my only remaining  problem was making sure I didn't fart while this sleeping beauty slept on my lap. My mind wandered and a dilemma arose. I could really do with a few new friends in London but I really wanted this girl tonight. Were the two mutually exclusive? I'll have to remember to buy condoms. Is there a place that sells them between my place and the station? What about her friend that's she's meeting? It's getting late, they might have gone home, should I go for a kiss before we got to the station?

We drew closer to London and I woke her as she asked me to make sure she didn't miss her stop.
"Thanks! I really needed that. You're so nice, sorry I drooled a little."

She drooled? A beautiful woman just drooled over my crotch! A bit disgusting in reality but phrased correctly to my friends this was gold!

We talked some more and realised we shared a love for arthouse film (this girl just get's better and better). Her stop was one after mine but I stayed on (only an extra 15 minute walk home and it could be well worth it). We got to the platform, chatting about this and that like we had known each other for years. She was lovely. I hoped her sodding friend wasn't here.

At the station's exit she scanned the crowd...
"Mark!"
A tall handsome blonde man, rushed toward her picked her up and gave her a big kiss. They walked on arm in arm.

"Mark, this is my friend I just met on the train, he's from Dublin too!"
Mark gave me warm smile and hearty handshake.
"Pleased to meet you."   
bastard.

"We're going for a quick drink, would you like to join us?"

"Emm.. no. I better be heading on, got work tomorrow and it's getting late... you know.."

15 minutes extra walking wasn't too bad.
And then I felt the first drops of rain...

I went to Liverpool on Sunday and as I stepped off the train I was greeted with a lovely waft of urine stench. My expectations were set suitably low but Liverpool turned out to be great craic. I particularly recommend the Maritime Museum where you can play "Find the Suspect Traveller" (hint by traveller they don't mean gypsy) and also learn the important skills involved in drug smuggling. I also got to see what condoms packed with cocaine look like after they go out your ass. I have a only a few photos but my camera is at home and I still don't have internet there.

Speaking of 1st impressions, my landlord was showing a girl the spare bedroom of my flat. I've always been on the receiving end of prospect tenant interrogation and I never realise how hard it is. Do you judge by accent? by taste? job? what they study? hotness? One of the viewers friends picked up a book I had out to read the title, is that a good sign? I wish there was some sort of social cue that says

"Potential roomate enjoys respectable level of cleanliness especially in the bathroom and kitchen work surfaces. Is friendly but not looking for a new best friend. Easy going and flexible. Pet peeves include smoking and leaving hair everywhere. Likes sharing food. Might be inclined to an occasional poker/xbox tournament. Cultured music fan of polite decibels. Does not grunt or moan loudly during sex" 

No I'm not referring to polishing my blog and making it smell of pine. I'm just trying to make the blog a less inane and drivel filled personal ramble. Actually that's the pledge right there, I was going to do bullet points but I'm feeling wild and crazy. Woo! Bullet points are like part of  the system  man .

Mongrel.ie just recently had a very funny yet useful guide to modern living so in a blatant unorignal cheaper poorly constructed copy (I am Chinese after all) here's are few tips of my own. Unfortunately, I'll have to revert back to my beloved bullet points, it felt lonely without them.

1. To avoid annoying, commision seeking, clipboard wielding, charity workers NEVER EVER make eye contact. Put your earphones in and give a blank forward stare of deep concentration/ vacant retardation. Alternatively, if with a friend or partner, turn to face each other and pretend to be engaged in deep uninterruptable conversation.

2. Don't be afraid to walk out in front of cars stopped at a red light. They can only get up to 4 mph from stand still to the 2 metres in front of them. Worse case scenario is that you'll get a mild bump and then you can sue because pedestrians have right of way everywhere.

3. Adding a few extra ingredients yourself can turn that frozen margaherita pizza in to a home cooked gourmet delicacy.

4. When your in Thailand getting pissed off your face and sleeping with random Irish people (it's not just a beach holiday I swear!) get yourself a tailored suit for a fraction of the cost.

5. The best way to deal with someone you really really dislike is to speak to/about them as little as possible and only in necessary politeness. That way they'll know you hate their guts but you can still claim the moral high ground and avoid any unnecessary bitching.   

6. When writing never try and be humourous by stetching (or worse, repeating) a joke or point. If you run out of bullet points, just accept it and go back to work.

7..Emm....

I stumbled upon this great website today called Hype Machine. It gets the links to all those mp3's that better music blogs host (unlike this one) and you can search for songs or bands and play them online.

It's perfect for finding getting live versions, rareties and b-sides. Also if you don't feel like paying for a song but just have to listen to it once it's great. I struggled all day trying to find "guess who ran off with the milkman" but now have got three sources.

good shtuff I tell ya!

Yesterday I lost my English gig virginity at the Manchester Academy to The Pipettes. Ciara took the surprisingly short train trip from Liverpool to join me. After having tasty dinner at Picaddily Gardens we went down to the gig.

Opening act were Californian scream rockers "Stefany". Fronted by a beautiful female singer, the band itself were quite well embodied by the awful of their name. Trying to hard to be different but ultimately appearing superficial and annoying. Crowd banter rating: -2. out of breath, out of touch weirdness

2nd act were the very impressive Metronomy. Their dancy electronica was the perfect warm up for the Pips. The 3 piece band managed to work in a wide range of instruments, human lightshow and robotic dance moves with grace and without pretense. Crowd banter rating 6. sparse but warm and humurous.

Finally the Pipettes came on stage. Their set included a lot of new stuff but all the favourites were there (except Sex). I heard "Guess who ran off with the Milkman" for the first time and made a mental note to get it. The crowd were mental, with many polka dotted and/or middle aged men knowing every lyric and coordinated dance move. Sound was lost a lot of clarity because it was too loud. Maybe my rose-tinted glasses were fading by usual lust for Rose felt diminished (she still sang like a sexy angel). The band seemed to be in great humour and apparently there was a great after show party (chance missed to meet the band #2). All in it was a decent gig but I've fonder memories of the Dublin one.

Crowd banter rating: 8. Very genuine thank yous and few jokes with the crowd.

Afterwards Ciara bought the Metronomy album (they really were that good). Next gig lined up. Delorentos album launch back in Dublin!

What's the story with English pubs having stupid names? The typical English pub goes along something like this

The (adjective) (animal)  and the (animal or inanimate object) .

So you get stupid names like
The Smelly Parrot and the Cereal box
or The Chaffinch and the Squirrel

However, one name has made me laugh so far.

The Spread Eagle.