I’m now 24. I’m pretty sure I’m not the oldest blogger on here (Chris Haikney is 46), but by god, I think that’s rather old. 24 is closer to 30 than 17. A terrifying statistic, I’m sure you’ll agree. Being born on February 14th, aka Valentine’s day, I’ve always been able to deceptively brag about the number of cards I receive on that particular day.

(man who just thinks it’s Valentine’s Day and not my birthday)

“So then, John. Get any cards this year?”

(Me)

“Yes, I got 23. And 14 of them contained cash”.

Some of those who know me have said this joke is tired and is well past it’s use-by-date. But y’know, every year I love getting the chance to say it and I’ve always found it funny (between the ages of 14-19, I might have used this line 5 or 6 times every birthday). And in a small kind of way, it makes me feel like a better man. But for the first birthday in a long time, I opted not to play the guaranteed top trump of a gag this year. Not because I no longer found it funny (it’s still funny), but because I only received 6 fucking cards. That’s awful! I’m aware that relatives and friends and aunties who aren’t really your aunties feel less compelled to send you a birthday card as you get older, but honestly, 6 cards is a really poor show! Some might say it’s the end of an era. I feel ‘comedy’, as a genre, is poorer because of it.

This next month will be fun. For the next week and a half I will be out and about with my band Paper Cut Out, playing some rock music for any interested parties. Glasgow, Manchester, Norwich, Brighton, London, Nottingham, Leeds, Belfast, Dublin, Newcastle, starting on the 21st (tonight!) and finishing on the 3rd of March, for those really wanting to know. So if you’re coming along, please say hello, buy my a drink, and maybe stick around for the bands? It’ll be great, I know it. Then on the 9th of March we’ve got the consistently tremendous Newcastle half-dayer 9×9 (No-Fi promote this- lots of innovation and rocking. Everybody come along), I know I’ll like that. Then it’s All Tomorrow’s Parties- I’m fearful the week I’m going (week one) is looking decidely inferior to the second! But who cares, everyone will still have a really good time, I’m sure of that. And then…at the very end of the month, my contract at work will hopefully be renewed! If not, March can only be remembered as a truly shit month.

Good technology: Bikes! On the way home last night the air was crisp, the road was dry, the chain was freshly oiled and I could zip around as I pleased. Don’t like that street, stop turn and go this way instead. MInd full of nothing but wheels and legs.

Bad technology: Passwords and Email! Anyone who’s sent anything to “moviemaster at diskant dot net” recently, or even just replied to a message from me that seems to have been ignored: I didn’t get it. I’ve only now realised there’s a problem and until I can remember the password that wasn’t being used I can’t get those emails. So anything important: please resend it, to “chrish at diskant dot net”. That address was delayed but is now working ok.

Damnit! I was really looking forward to those stolen Nigerian IMF loans too. How’m I going to pay for the condo this month?

I have been disqualified for six months and told that if I am caught driving a vehicle within those six months, I’ll be liable for up to a £5,000 fine and a possible six months’ imprisonment. SO, I don’t think I’ll be risking it. But anyway, here are my top three tips for appearing in court:

(1) Smarten yourself up. Wear a tie, get a haircut.
(2) Don’t be cocky. If you know you did a bad thing, don’t try and get out of it.
(3) Be prepared to kiss ass. Nobody except the people in the court can hear you.

Follow these rules and you should be okay. It worked for me, in a way – I was actually told that because of my frank and honest attitude that instead of getting a fine (of up to £1,000) as well as a ban, that the ban itself was punishment enough.

But this whole deal has made me realise that, when it comes down to it, I just want an easy, stress-free life.

Yesterday, a colleague at work showed off his 13 week old son. He was so happy, his partner and he recently got a mortgage on their first house.

Today, that colleague had a visit from his boss who is based in London. I met him coming down the stairs as I arrived. He’d been fired before he’d taken his coat off.

The boss called us around and said “as of this morning [x] has left [the company]. I can’t discuss it for reasons of confidentiality. Any other questions?” No-one dared ask questions. Not even “do you mean you fired him?”

Later the boss went round us all individually, “listening to our concerns” and chatting more generally like she hadn’t just travelled up for one day to fire a man I have a lot of respect for.

When she came to me I chatted about how I had been slightly deaf in one ear since I caught a cold last month, “oh, so it must sound like I’m throwing my voice,” she replied.

I hate myself for having kept my head down. Every few months they come up and fire someone, pour encourager les autres-style. The only defence I can think of is to leave before it’s my turn. Way to build a successful company you callous bastards.

I’ve been buying Super Nintendos and eating King Size Snickers. What a week.

Well, I finally made it along to West 13th today seeing as I was in the area [buying a USB cable…geek]. Those of you keeping up will know it’s the new venture by the 13th Note people and I’m happy to say that it’s a fine replacement. Okay, so nowhere could truly replace the old 13th Note cafe but it’s about a million times better than nothing. It’s also good to know that the recipe for 13th Note atmosphere seems to be: paint the walls red, make sure the chairs are comfy, play jazz. I would have added ‘sell Irn Bru’ but they’d run out [!!] and yet it still managed to be the 13th Note so that can’t be essential. Anyway, if you’re living in or visiting Glasgow then make an effort to get along – there’s loads of free gigs on and you’ll always be sure of a pint and some good food. More info here. Best of luck to them.

i so missed you, marcy.

Not done anything notable recently but at least I can arrive on time, unlike certain ROCK STARS in bands with long names.

“we’re in Scotland”, “och aye”, “40 miles from glasgow”

“What time were we picking the van up”

I want my pizza you dawdling fools.

Who are you anyway? Sunny Noise Sub Experiment? Nice

The stupid thing is they did the same thing a few years back. Highlighting Jade Tree and Jets to Brazil et al. It’s just more of that lazy fucking journalism that seems rife these days. They even interview The Mars Volta who the NME say are making a concerted effort to distance themselves from the EMO label and in the same section they go on to say that the band have taken emo on an interstellar journey. The band are obviously not EMO yet they must be because the NME says so. Made me laugh too that they are pushing Pedro the Lion as one of the next wave. They’ve been around for fucking years, for christ sake. EMO to me was always bands like Mineral, Christie Front Drive, Jawbreaker, Texas is the Reason, maybe Braid and The Van Pelt, most of these bands have now split and members have gone off to form other bands. Yet there’s no credit given to the fact that these bands and the bands that came before them have been releasing albums for years and touring their asses off, rather suddenly NME should be getting some credit for ‘discovering’ them. Same goes for the labels like DeSoto, Jade Tree, Crank!, Caulfield who were putting out 7″s from Jimmy Eat World and Mineral for example years ago. On a slightly diferent tack I was a bit disappointed with Careless Talk Costs Lives too. Great idea but pritty annoying the way it was written. Anyway it’s an improvement on the NME so can’t complain too much…

Sorry this struck a nerve…

i went to see amelie yesterday, free ticket clutched in my paw, only to find it was full. still, i did manage to get abused by what i loosely refer to as ‘skaters’ when i came drove down their ramp in my car. i wouldn’t have minded, but honestly – get off the rollerblades and get yourself a fucking skateboard. then i won’t try to run you down. fuckers.