Media Player Play Count Top 30

1) Deluxx Folk Implosion - Daddy Never Understood
2) Time Zone - World Destruction
3) Cat Stevens - I Think I See The Light
4) Bikini Kill - I Like Fucking
5) NWA - Straight Outta Compton
6) Public Enemy - Shut 'Em Down (live on The Word)
7) Schoolly D - Saturday Night
8) Jane's Addiction - Just Because
9) Afghan Whigs - Superstition-Going To Town (live)
10) Girls Against Boys - Basstation
11) Mudhoney - Who Will Be The Next In Line
12) Sugababes - Freak Like Me
13) Shellac - Killers
14) Folk Implosion - Jenny's Theme
15) Luscious Jackson - Here
16) Luscious Jackson - City Song
17) Tindersticks - Travel Light
18) The Jive Five - What Time Is It?
19) Red Hot Chili Peppers - Fortune Faded
20) My Bloody Valentine - Slow
21) Deftones - Back To School
22) The Flamingos - I Only Have Eyes For You
23) T-Rex - Jeepster
24) Sebadoh - Sixteen
25) Rolling Stones - Thru And Thru
26) Le Tigre - Phanta
27) Snoop Dogg - From The Church To Da Palace
28) Gangstarr - Jazz Thing
29) Lois Maffeo and Brendan Canty - You Love Your Wounds
30) Freda Payne - Band Of Gold

I really need to listen to some new music

A questionaire (an update on me):

1. FULL NAME:
Jason Leslie Graham

2. WHAT COLOUR PANTS ARE YOU WEARING?
underwear: white and blue trousers: black

3. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Pavement - Wowee Zowee (Motion Suggests)

4. ARE YOUR LEGS CROSSED?
No

5. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
Coleslaw

6. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOUR WOULD YOU BE?
Green

7. HOW IS THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW?
Perfect, sunny but chilled

8. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Chris Boldwin

9. FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Their footwear

10. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU THIS?
Sometimes

11. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?
Confused but confident, finally maturing in agood way.

12. FAVOURITE NON-ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
Evian.

13. FAVOURITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
tea total.

14. FAVOURITE SPORTS?
wrestling and Millwall

15. HAIR COLOUR?
beautiful brown

16. EYE COLOUR?
hazel?

17. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
YES

18. SIBLINGS?
twins

19. FAVOURITE MONTH?
April

20. FAVOURITE FOOD?
Bread

21. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Orange County and bits of Run Ronnie Run (best film ever!)

2. FAVOURITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
Christmas Day

23. SATURDAY OR SUNDAY?
Saturday.

24. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
yes. once bitten......

25. DO YOU LIKE MARMITE?
Love it

26. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter

27. HUGS OR KISSES?
penetration!

28. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
chocolate

29. DO YOU WANT YOUR FRIENDS TO WRITE BACK?
yez

30. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
T

31. WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
the others

32. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS?
untidy mortgaged up one bedroom apartment

33. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING?
Crackpot by John Waters, Meat Is Murder by Joe Pernice, More Money NOW by John "Bradshaw" Layfield, Stock Market Essentials by Victor A. Cuadra and BPP ACCA textbooks on Audit And Assurance Services and Advanced Taxation FA 2003

35. DID YOU WAKE UP BEFORE YOUR ALARM WENT OFF THIS MORNING?
I might as well have done: 8.25! and i hurt! (exactly the same time as Baldwin, freaky!)

36. DO YOU MISS BIG BROTHER YET?
I miss not being a contestant.......wannabe

38. WHAT INSPIRES YOU?
Money and the fear of still being alone come 30

39. BUTTERED, PLAIN, OR SALTED POPCORN?
sugared

40. FAVOURITE CRISPS?
Hot & Spicy Monster Munch

41. FAVOURITE CAR?
my Ford Fuckus

42. FAVOURITE FLOWER?
pot

43. HOW MANY KEYS ON YOUR KEY RING?
six

44. CAN YOU JUGGLE?
my workload

45. FAVOURITE DAY OF THE WEEK?
Friday

46. RED OR WHITE WINE?
White (red kills me)

47. WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY?
got VERY drunk on Kahlua and didn't visit my parents (first birthday since my birth the olds didn't see the apple of their eye). a few days earlier my boss took me to Club Forin and bought me some broads

48. DO YOU OWN A DONOR CARD?
no but about eleven credit cards (get into transferring balances everybody)

49. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
turning the alarm off and the tv on. if only there was a button that did both. i usually wake up laughing

50. WHAT ARE YOU DOING ONCE THIS IS FINISHED?
going round to Balderers house

Sunday and the same old same old. I look at porno for too long on a sunday morning as per usual, buy too many sunday newspapers and head home to the olds to get fed, watch Sky and get my washing done. Oh yeah, I go to see my parents and dog as well obviously. Its eventless, I really want to make something our of nothing here but I can't. Oh my parents think my Atkins shits are down to me being diabetic like the old man. Maybe.

Saturday. I wake up freaked out but I go for a walk and get the saturday paper and its a great refreshing feeling. Its pretty much summer now and the bushes/flowers are smelling great the saturday morning strole past the football "stadium" to the paper shop is as enjoyable as ever. I plan to write, study and watch Kill Bill 1 but Chris then goes and texts me and I want to talk to him about last night and see how he did after I left. His version of events differ to mine and he is way more relaxed about things than me (I'm getting old and way too easily spooked it seems). We hang and then venture into town. It's slow and a daze and a struggle to find things to do/see/say. We go to town in the hope of accidently on purpose bumping into someone. We kind of do two people but they don't really count for me (ahem!). We have no money and no heart for anything. I want to go see Punt and Dennis at the Arts Centre in the evening but Chris makes it clear he really doesn't want to, he just wants to "go to drunk". His little 16 year old thing (nonce) keeps texting him to go meet her at the Colchester Castle Park, good haunt for paedos that I hear. We go back to his where is dog Jenny licks my belly and humps me, the highlight of my day. Chris cooks for me in the evening and I get reluctantly dragged out again for a second night running. I have little intention of staying out but want to make sure Chris is at least set up for the evening with someone to do/pester. We go to the Bumhole but they're closing and its only 9pm. What a shame, plumbing problems and its flooding. We're saved! As an alternative we go back to the Hogshead, nervous and anxious. It's actually very quiet for a saturday night there. We see no one we really know and feel left to our own devises. I again see Jeremy from football and talk to him a bit. The fuckers are there and eventually we reluctantly sit with them and blah blah about really nothing at all. I then see what I am sure is the glasser but Chris insists it is only his mate. Then I see the glassee. Oh my god, he looks fine, like barely anything happened at all. And he isn't seething, out for blood. Go figure. Whatever, the night is a lot more chilled and I end up sticking it out instead of leaving early and rushing home to Wag The Dog. We start talking to strangers about Consolidated and Will Oldham and they have no idea who we are with regards to music (that whole fling is now so officially over). I don't care, neither of us can really be arsed to flog a dead horse. We piss before leaving and as I left rip with one of those satisfying piss farts I squirt and begin to follow through, Atkins is shooting my insides to death. I wipe and my arse is bleeding (too much information). I go home sporting a strange expression.

Friday (night). So after events during the daytime I don't really want to go out in the evening but Chris really does and so I feel I really ought to (hey, tonight might actually be the night I meet Mrs Graham). After too long talking to parents we eventually venture, both of us with apparent stomach problems. We go into the Hogshead where I am expecting my boss to be and other football buddies. The buddies are there but the boss isn't. I bump into Jeremy (named George Best by Dr Stevo, Titters himself) and then Dick Anglia Grain (a client) who is just cool beyond belief in a grown up way. Looking around there appears to be no one else around we now so we hang tight talking football. Eventually we stagger outside and Chris captures two female acquaintances and we muscle in on them. We get a couple of words in before turning invisible to their evenings. However we stick with it/them and then some evil twins turn up whose names we know and that's about it. Tonight though, that does for us. Then the males turn up. They're shit. They're like brothers so they become the Idiot Brothers for the evening for me. Well the cap fits when at the end of the evening the more obnoxious of the two (close match though) throws a pint glass in the face of someone who calmly tells him he isn't putting up with his shit (or something). Wow, a glassing. I find it pretty unbelievable. The glasser walks way after a bit of prodding and then the glassee (also a squaddie unfortunately) goes fucking mental with a face full of blood. Hey, a trained killer pissed off at some obnoxious idiot. Personally I was routing for Rambo to break his fucking neck. Didn't happen. What did happen though was obnoxious idiot keep returning to finish his drink, prompting Gulf War to fly after him at any given opportunity. And even worse, Mr Glasser kept returning to our bench, too close to me/us for comfort (for me). I can't believe how blaise people were about it though and that most of them were taking the piss out of GI Joe over his reaction rather than condemning Glassing Boy for his actions. I guess its the horrible truth in the face of sobriety. I got out of there as soon as possible but couldn't talk Chris into it. People are so fucked up at times.

Quick re-cap.

Last saturday I hang with Chris all day, mainly mocking him for pulling an apparent schoolgirl at the Gigantic club. And then sod's law when we go to town we see her and then the fucking pikeys. The day is a labour and it's a mutual decision not to venture out that evening

Sunday I go home to my parents and fall off the Atkins royally by eating a roast dinner. Mother pumps me with guilt for not drinking the Dr Pepper you puts out for me ("are you ill?"). I then discover they have lent my Phoenix Nights to their pikey friends and get on a childish strop.

Monday I go to London Moorgate for my penultimate ACCA Advanced Tax course. I am now officially very worried about my course and the exam in June. No one in my group appears to be from the NFL though (big companies). Actually most of them do not appear to be from this country. In the evening it is Skittles' birthday. And Tom is back, sadly because his granddad has just passed away. Chris drags the three of us to the Hole In The Wall (aka Bumhole In The Wall and quickly becoming the Hell In The Wall). There I feel as popular as a dose of the clap. And is at his happiest there either. Fucking people, so ignorant whilst also so pikey (my new favourite word/term as you can probably guess). Maverick turns up and is wearing a homemade t-shirt stating "Life Not Labels", the guy is hilarious. Me and Tom would have liked to have gone somewhere else but it being pound a pint night, Chris was loving it, he was getting pissed and getting the time of day from the uber-clique. Oh well, nevermind. It ended. I wanted to rush home to watch The Last Supper on tv. I rushed too much had a speed camera flash me. Hope not too flash though.

Tuesday: I go into work in my new suit and look mighty fine, I may not be the part but I look the part. Mucho busy at work due to the senility of Dr Who (embrace the senile genius, watch him re-invent the wheel). All in all in equates to me working late like an idiot. Dr Stevo catches me working late and suggests we go to Millwall, him driving. CANNOT SAY NO! We get to the Den late, go through the turnstiles just as Danny Dicihio is popping in a header to make it Millwall 1 Watford 0. The Den is pretty packed (although the attendence doesn't reflect this). Eventually though Millwall choke and lose 2-1. In the second half they are terrible and without booze its hard to get aggressive over losing (actually the first time this season I have seen them lose). On the way home Stevo stops by docklands to look at a place a client (Hughes Finishings) has just done. The complex is amazing, right on the river and really close to Canary Wharf. As we leave London we drive right past the HSBC building, the Bank Of America building etc. Those buildings are awe-inspiring, they look like the future now to me. this is the real, the major leagues, I can only dream of being here. Or maybe......

Wednesday. Not much to report. At lunch Azmei is at her best for weeks and we go round town and see the infamous Jim Jepps. I tell her I used to live with that fanatic and she doesn't believe my words, adding "I bet we see someone you used to go to nursey with next". And we do, it's Peter Rogers one of my many ex-best friends. I don't say hello, he has a pony tale and crap beard and looks grubby. And I feel ill anyways (Atkins is poison). When I get back to the office I die on the toilet for 20 minutes. I'm not proud.

Thursday and I act like a whore again with regards to Dr Stevo. I say I can't afford to go to lunch so he gives me £22 he reckons he still owes me. So I comply and go to Nandos with him. It makes me ill. In the afternoon Lindsey comes over to Chernobyl and I haven't spoke to her since February 12 when she blew me out. The room is super silent and very uncomfortable. And then I fall ill and go to the toilet for half an hour, so long that she probably thinks I am masturbating. How embarassing. Regardless I go into the session with the good doctor in the evening with good heart and begin to reminisce over the past again, memories are beginning to flood back, albeit more confused and muddled than ever.

Friday (daytime). Still busy at work and beginning to fuck up with regards to meeting deadlines. Everything falls apart early afternoon though when Dr Who calls me into his office and picks holes and rips two of my jobs to shreads. I didn't think they were very good but that's more to do with the supply of information. Not so according to the Dr though. I'm left feeling like an idiot, somewhat humiliated but very worried about a knock on effect of an undue doubt in my capabilities from an old man losing it. It's all bad. In the evening I am supposed to go out but don't want to. Chris pushes hard though and I do......

can barely talk about last Friday night, nightclubbing on sobriety, and then this Friday goes and happens, a technical glassing. Oh my. More later on PNN (Pikey News Network)

Still can't talk about last Friday, too much to fathom, more of a novel instead of a blog. I tried, I failed. And now it is a week past already. i have failed you all.

For the second time this week I have been called arrogant. Wha' happened?

I acted like a common prostitute today and went to lunch with Dr Stevo just because he gave me £40. Do I hear the theme to Midnight Cowboy in the distance?

I finally had a conversation with Azmei today. Things aren't looking good (for me).

I bumped into part of my past Tuesday. Back in the day I had not reached the great heights of accountant semi senior, instead I was a dog's body YT "student". From 93 to 95 I went to a terrifying "college" called SEAX Training where I was surrounded by glueheads from Clacton and Greanstead LEARNING to be hod carry. OK, this is probably over-exagerating but it was a truly terrifying point of experience in my formative years, very emotionally scarring. It wasn't all bad though, I was in the admin class and there were some real hotties I feel in like with and tonight as I was locking up the office I have christened Chernobyl I bumped into Francis Bullock. It was a real shock when she recognised me and actually acknowledged (believe me, I get blanked a lot these days). It didn't seem like it had been ten years and she still seemed great. However I fucked up again, slurring and grunting in my current nervous state and as we parted ways I said "hey, pop into the office and say hello if you ever need an interest". WHAT???? Mental!

One of the highlights of my Easter break was meeting my friend's Japanese girlfriend. I am currently in the process of losing all my faculties when it comes to communicating as I proceed to grunt and slur my way through the day. So then my own pigeon English actually goes really well when attempting to communicate with someone foreign. I didn't feel at all inadequate.

I've rediscovered one of the great lost CDs of recent times: Klassics With A K by Kostars. This record makes me happy and sends me off to work in the right frame of mind.

monday night, pound a pint night. didn't do it for me, i was just fucking foul.

Went to a gig last night and stayed sober, haven't done that for a while. Then again, what else is a person to do on Easter Sunday? Delayed by my Bitch In Dubai telling me how the A-Team is on tv over there (on twenty years too late and one real casualty) I finally get a freak on and arrive on the scene. Our entertainment for the evening is PART CHIMP, producers of the wickedly named Chart Pimp album. I get a guestlist from Staff so I am made up and Allen from the Blitters is DJing making it a pleasant environment within my budget. However the theatrics on stage weigh little compared to the drama within the audience. More on that later if I get bored enough (at one point I was texting Dubai with an emergency message "I am in pikey hell"). Last time I was at a venue PART CHIMP I think I was probably passed out (ATP) so some respect is due methinks. Tonight PART CHIMP are stunning, I almost enjoy them as much as Ligament. This is the stuff of legend, this is LOUD. Tim Cedar is always an amazing sight to behold and tonight it is business as usual. I know not these songs but I know I like them. In a valiant, if not successful, attempt at being the loudest thing on earth the band thundered through a ground pounding set taking in noise bands at their best such as the Melvins and particularly Sonic Youth towards the closing all yelled in that magical Slade-esqe manner. If I could download the album off Soulseek I'd tell you what the songs were. These days I am now getting old and now I also feel certain live sets are making go deaf and this was one of them. No ill effects in the chest or mentally just the niggling sensation that I won't be able to hear anything or anyone long into the upcoming (a mixed blessing now but a curse at sixty). Like clockwork they closed shop at 11pm and then it was let the real drama rule the floor. Town clowns and gaylords whupped it up like it was 1997/98 and tears were shed over pikey A fucking pikey C instead of pikey B. I dunno, I'm as weary of this shit as it is of me (if it acknowledged my existed that is). Tomorrow there is a real world out there waiting to be done but tonight I can't hear any of it.

Wow, last night, weight lose has never looked so unhealthy.

Check Mr Tech Head. My computer is currently without, my PC vulnerable to the elements. After saturday nights jam session of script writing Pull My Finger (c) I set about putting a brand new 120GB hard drive into my computer. Never before have I felt so technically empowered. In recent weeks I have attempted repairing basic ME problems for my McSlim friends at the prostitution rates of £50 but now, this is serious. Unable to free up any more space, even to the desperate point of removing of porno, I just need more gigs. I have no idea if the 120 monster will work in my computer. I ask the supermodel at the desk at PC World and she says "are you XP? That will work, I promise". The promise part scared me, I didn't get that down on paper. However, after spending two hours looking for a phillips head screwdriver (finding four flat heads in the process) I eventually unscrew and open my box with pliers. Inside I discover the TV card that doesn't work is still gathering dust and NO SPARE PORTS. Scratching my head for seventy minutes I eventually notice two port thingeys on the new harddrive so decide to bypass. It is here that I finally learn the real meaning of Master/Slave, especially when I attempt to top from the bottom and try running a Recovery Disk that suddenly tries to load Windows 98 onto my computer. Past that hurdle it takes an eternity to get my PC to accept the existence of the new harddrive. If you were a 40GB and a 120GB arrived on the scene, wouldn't you be jealous also? Still, F you, eventually I dare (shaking) to put in a Partition (whatever that is) and now the new harddrive is up and running as Hard Disk Drive F. Here goes my CD collection onto it, who needs iPods?

I'm currently taking driving lessons in the Atkins Diet. I tell you it seems fucking fantastic, Dr Stevo tells me how he now HAS to eat Carbs to STOP him losing weight and wasting away. Unfortunately however I cannot fully commit myself to the long haul and hard full schedule of the Dr Atkins spiel itself. First I need to drink as I need to socialise as I need to meet girls as I need to sleep with girls as I need to marry girls as I need to have kids and be a father as I need to live happily ever after. Dr Atkins never planned on that problem I suspect. Secondly, Atkins food supermarket shopping just makes you appear fucking insane, completely neanderthal and caveman. Piles of meat and cheese with bottled water in my basket (I have not graduated/matured to shopping trolley yet) needs to have some kind of balancing element to cover tracks and therefore my already costly grocery bill doubles as I slip in some cover items in the form of Frosties (free hacky sack this week) and men's mags with DVDs. Hard work.

Oh happy days. Powergen are looking to pass my account onto a debt collection agency with view to kicking my arse and removing my power supply. When did companies get so precious about prompt payment?

Afterburn of Friday night, Good Friday night. Miraculously I was awake at 6.30 am after getting in at 3.00 am. I decide straight away that this is hell and I immediately go back to sleep. Later awake I watch Zoolander and this guy makes complete sense to me. The problem was School Disco at the Arts Centre, it pushed and pulled me back to my checkered childhood days and pissed down my neck. No one would dance with me and it wasn't because I wasn't in school uniform. I and Baldwin's initial stand of common sense was solidified by reinforcements in the shape of the long deserted Ben Wright, the Hurdle clan and their scary friend Twin Aphex. It failed to float my boat. As per usual males outnumbered females by too many times to one and as per usual I wasn't waving, I was drowning. How do you make up for faces you recognise but don't know how to budge? There was a high time: Faithless, Prodigy and Underworld all in a row, it had to hurt. As per usual the thirty minute trudge home was that of great philosophical musings and pissing up walls, all in all thoroughly depressing. And as per usual one stained by chip kebab and ending with the declaration "same time next week".

Yesterday was soul destroying. I'm now getting the coldest shoulder from the warmest of hearts. Wish I knew where I went wrong.

I might have gone on a date last night. Fortunately there was a gooseberry there to ruin it, so all faux pas for the evening can be blamed on her and her psychosis. Mere minutes after the night was over texts were exchanged and plans plotted for another attempt sans the spare wheel. Maybe it went well after all despite ending up in Chicagos (a notoriously sad Colchester grog hole).

Azmei phoned me from Colchester this morning wondering where I was when she turned up to pick me up. I was in Holborn, London. She is playing awkward bitch through the roof, this time last week (last Tuesday) she decided to just not bother and leave me stranded. I'm being slowly let down and blown out as she chooses to not bother to reply to text messages or conversation resulting in shit like this happening. Ignorant. And always, I'm the one to blame.

New heights in soccer. I have never experienced the excitement and exhilaration that I did sunday when me and Dr Stevo Titters had a road trip to Old Trafford Manchester to see MILLWALL slightly thrash Sunderland in the 2004 FA Cup semi final. Football has never tasted so sweet, MILLWALL is by far the greatest team that I have ever seen (speaking as an ex-Ipswich Town season ticket holder and someone that lives on Layer Road next to Colchester Utd's ground). I screamed so much at one point I lost my shit and thought I was going to faint or suffer an aneurysm. Good times.

At 6.55 pm on a beautifful pre-summer Friday evening me and Dr Stevo turned up at the New Den Millwall. We caught the last five minutes of an open ticket office and we were the penultimate people to purchase tickets for the Millwall v Sunderland FA Cup semi final in Manchester this weekend. Hella times ahead/involved. I still can't believe I spent £110 on football tickets. Maybe I have finally made that ascension from working class to middle class. Bling

Last night my "Bitch In Dubai" (her self given moniker) told me about her new "relationship" (her speech marks) and then wondered why I was not happy for her. Isn't it obvious?

The apple of my eye is currently acting as if she couldn't care less about me but I know its just an act, she has more or less told me. Still our "relationship" is descending into something akin to watching a dried out pot plant die. And now I have opted/switched to asking her sister out for an evening. Self destruction.

Did All Tomorrows Parties last weekend. It did it badly, I had no interest in the music and no interest in the people. Unfairly I christened the event All Tomorrows Pikeys but really seriously the cap fitted. Due to the apparent need/lack of testosterone/masculinity I did the usual think of drinking myself into oblivion and then slipping into dabbling into any other substance I could ram down my mouth or shoot up my nose. Ultimately I only saw one band in full: Shellac. I also caught parts of Acid Mothers Temple, Converge, Mogwai, Cat Power, the Boredoms, Mike Watt, Tortoise, Lightninh Bolt and Arcwelder, none of which really floated my boat. The weekend ended monday morning when I discovered that I had someone's passport in my pocket. It's good to get away from things.