All you wanna do is talk Talk...

So, in my blogging absence, I have not made mention of 80s night at The Talk.

Now, last night was our second foray into the abyss, and for those who are not au fait with this fun-filled evening, it can be summed us thusly:

An evening featuring the blandest, cheesiest, most predictable hits of the 80, whose clientele tend to be overweight, overaged snaggle-toothed dresslexic behemoths, often on a hen night, whose concept of dancing is handbags-in-the-middle-one-step-left-one-step-right-regardless-of-the-song.

Helmed by 80s has-been DJs Rob & Chrissie, much fun is to be had bemoaning the choice of song, ranging from such fine fayre as Bucks Fizz's Making Your Mind Up, through Abba's Dancing Queen to Terrence Trent Reznor's We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off (to have a good time).

Much mirth mocking the mu-mu clad munters, their wholly inappropriate attire and choice of footwear, their lack of rhythm and dance style...

...but we had cider, stella and several shots of multicolored hue, so we were happy!

And when WE hit the dance floor... why, they never knew what hit them, and we went down A STORM!

Indeed - once again I garnerned yet another Fan Club following! Why, I had a veritable plethora of Prett... well, a couple of Pretties and a vast nest of trolls. Pretties are very thin on the ground there, but hell's bells - Xym made progress! He actually talked to a Pretty. Admittedly, he was with his sister who was doing most of the talking, but Xym DID actually engage in converse!

Yeah - shock horror, right! Inconcievable!

And then we went on to The WhatACunt!

And would you Adam & Eve it - I'm told I had another legion of fans all clamouring for my attentions!

Well, y'all know Xym - can't talk to Pretties, can't notice them throwing themselves at him? Well, that's not changed, but he DID actually briefly speak to Wendy II, briefly spoke to The Model and Harley Quim, and sort-of caught Purpleskirt's eye and exchanged glances...

So, I's getting better (slowly)!

Although I need to do something about my Sister, She's been informing my Fan Club of my rhythmic prowess, and spreading tales of my career as a professional dancer, and how I often appeared on Top Of The Pops.

I'd just like people to know that Jo is more than embroidering the truth a little. For the record, I was NOT a professional dancer on Top Of The Pops.  

I was a professional dancer on top TV show The Hit Man And Her, touring the clubs up and down the country, culminating in Rick's Place down Anglia Square, where I was asked to leave the show after a night of passion with Strachan.

So, for the record - it was Strachan, not Savile, I was dancing for. Although I did combine the two to give Michæla some jingle jangle spangle jewellery of the pearl necklace variety. or something...

Oh sit down, Oh sit down, Oh sit down , sit down SOMEWHERE ELSE...

What is it with people these days?

What's worse:
● A cunt being a cunt; or
● A person asking a question, not getting the answer they want, THEN being cunt?

Case in point: Last week we were in The Owl Sanctuary, and some drunken bumbling fuckwit falls onto us and grips the empty chair.

Drunk Gobshite: "Excushe me mate, ish thish sheat free?"
Me: "Sorry, it's taken. They're just having a fag."
Inebriated cockwind:" OK, Cool."

And he walks off with the chair!

And today, sat in Starbucks¹ (no S♥phie - boo :( BUT Chl♥e has gone from White Hair [win] to Bright Red Hair [Epic Win with extra ♥♥♥!]), where I expect several other caffeine compatriots to join me. So, I gets a table in the ærie, when two foreigners arrive.

Not-So-Loving Couple: "Excusings, we may have the joining you seating please?"
Me: "Sorry, they're taken. I'm expecting the others to arrive any moment."
Sour-faced Bint & Misery Man:" OK, Cool."

And they plonk themselves down anyway! 

Now, I'd be annoyed if they'd just helped themselves to basking in my presence without asking first - but to ask first and then disregard my response... well, that just pisses me off even more!

AND they had obviously just split up. She's almost in tears, being abrupt with him, wanting nowt to do woth him, and chewing a wasp. He's hovering, petting, touching, haltingly whispering pleadingly at her, and dragging the atmos right down!

Perhaps next time, I'll make it more obvious:

The Next ClitHood Smegma Scrape: "Can I take this chair, or sit here?"
Me: "NO! THERE'S A REASON WE'VE ALREADY CLAIMED IT. NOW FUCK OFF AND DIE YOU PISS MIDGETED PISS-STREAM!"
BanjoString Cockcheese "OK, Cool."
And if they proceed to take the chair/sit down anyway...
Me: "OI! WHAT PART OF NO DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! DO YOU SERIOUSLY WANT A PUNCH IN THE TITS. PUT THE CHAIR BACK AND BACK AWAY SLOWLY...!"

Grrrrrr!

¹ APOLOGIES TO MY TOPPEST OF TOP PRETTIES, BUT I COULDN'T RESIST! AT LEAST IT WASN'T A GMO PUMPKIN LATTÉ.

She will she will she will she will let farts take your breath away...

So, a long while back, I was persuaded to purchase some quality pop music by the lyrical genius known as Sticky Minge Arse, and ended up with two albums on me iPod I never listened to.

Now, since starting my new job, there are Young Folk in the workplace, who idolize such icons of musical legend.

So, I dug out Pink Friday: Roman Remains, and prepared for a most delightful aural treat.

First up, is the appalling vocals on Track #1: Roman Holiday, with the genius lyrics of "♪ I dare a motherfucker be talking about me / Them bitches must be smoking a couple of OC / Ha Ba Ba Ba Ga Gum the goatee ♫"

Then comes the insightful Track #2: Come On A Cone with the literary lyrics "♪ Ooohh-ooh, dick in your face / Ooohh-ooh, dick in your face / Ooohh-ooh, dick in your face / Put my dick in your face / Put my dick in your face / Yeah Yeah ♫"

What delights await on Track #3: I Am Your Leader? Why, it's the elegant "♪ Motherfuckers on my dick / suck it / I am your leader / Yes I am your leader / You not a believer / Suck a big dick ♫"

And on it goes:
"♪ Bitches ain't shit / And they ain't sayin' nuthin' / A hundred muthafuckas can't tell me nuthin' / I beez in the trap / B-B-Beez in the trap ♫" - Beez In The Trap 
"♪ Like I get that pussy wetter than a dirty sewer / Fuck you mean / Turn around and bust it open for me / Get on that dick and get that money ♫" - Sex In The Lounge

Culminating in the poetical final track Stupid Hoe: "♪ You a stupid hoe / you a / you a stupid hoe / You a stupid hoe / you a / you a stupid hoe / You a stupid hoe / you a / you a stupid hoe / You a stupid hoe / (yeah) you a / you a stupid hoe / You a stupid hoe / you a / you a stupid hoe (stupid, stupid) / You a stupid hoe / you a / you a stupid hoe (you stupid, stupid) / You a stupid hoe / you a / you a stupid hoe (you stupid, stupid) / You a stupid hoe / (yeah) you a / you a stupid hoe (you stupid, stupid) ♫" 

Which is why I was surprised when I found out that the below was NOT the official video to her cover version of The Sisters Of Mercy's Anaconda - I thought the lyrical prowess of this tribute was testament to her skillz as a songwriter fo' sho'. 

Ice, Ice, Baby...

Oh dear!

You poor, poor fools!

You now get to SEE AND HEAR ye Xym!

It's weird hearing yourself on camera - I don't sound like that AT ALL to me!

Anyhoo, here is The Xym doing the IceFuckIt Challenge in aid of 90s dance artists ALS (Ancients Of Mu-Mu). Remember to text ICED55 (plus the amount you wish to donate) to 70070.

Yes, I nominated people in the video... but I also nominate all my Pretties to do the IceFuckIt challenge.

In flimsy white blouses.

And no bra.

And then toss your hair back and thrust your chest out like showering in a Timotei waterfall, and then just hold that pose and let the camera linger on your heaving busom for a while.

In HD.


or something...

They fall to the floor and stick to the whore's...

So, people are complaining about a lesbian kiss in Dr Who.

Now, having watched New Who, can I point out there is NO lesbian kiss in it.

There's beastiality (or inter-species) kisses.

Yes, they're both female, but one's a lizard (hands up those who spotted the crass Lizard Tongue 'joke'). Surely that's worse than lesbianism?

Mind you, if Bella Swan can shag a corpse and snog a dog and still be popular, I don't see why it's such a big deal!

That said, my problem with the episode is that in every scene with them, they HAVE to mention they're Wife & Wife. Not a scene goes by without them having to stress that one is the other's wife. 

Once is fine, to establish they're married. But does it REALLY need to be hammered home EVERY time they come on screen?

And as for the comedy potato butler... oh dear. A Sontaran as a Butler that has only the one joke nicked from Blackadder's Christmas Carol. Except instead of giving away secrets (Damn, Damn, Damn, I'm so stupid!), the Potato keeping making comedy remarks about going into battle. 

Still, at least Capaldi is a decent Doctor at last. Hopefully he's going to be the darkest yet.

Edward! He's trying to grab my pet-trol...

♪ No More Starbucks Anymore ♫

So sang The Stranglers at Karaoke night down The Ferryboat (before offing off a plethora of prozzies), and how true those words are today!

For one of my tip top hot dames has despoiled my beloved beverage!

It's only 4 weeks until Autumn (or Fall¹ for our dumbed down overseas cousins), which means the second greatest latté based beverage known to man is back.

The Starbucks Pumpkin Latté!

I now has to consider this:

First up - the adding of carcinogenic ammonia! Ammonia! You know what that means.

The serving wenches are pissing in it!

Now, I'm up for golden shower just as much as you are, but I don't really want my creamy goodness ruined with warm widdle, and having to flick a barista babe's pubic lice off my cocoa dustings!

And it's made with Monsanto Milk, bulked up with GMO corn! Well, isn't Monsanto that bloke who played Khan Noonien Singh? I don't care how much he makes a Pretties noonie sing, he's not dumping his man-milk as a creamy topper on MY beverage - no matter how much Garmonbozia he's had! I'm not getting cancer off of his septic spunkings1

I don't mind 50g of sugar, and I like the sound of Ambiguous Natural Flavour, but I draw the line at them running a line from the garage and topping up my coffee with petrol... unless we're back to Tubbs Tattysyrup's petrol, which means MORE piss in my drink!

But what's more worrying is, as the photo shows, you can peel away half the cup, and the coffee remains standing! Lookit! A dirty great half cut out the cup just below the lid, and the fluid had yet to succumb to gravity!

On the plus side, with half a cup, there's nowhere to write my name, so they can't continue to spell it wrong!

¹ SO NAMED BECAUSE IT'S WHEN ALL THE LEAVES FALL OFF ALL THE TREES IS EASIER FOR AMERICANS TO REMEMBER. ASSOCIATING FALL, AND ALL, LEAVES AND TREES IS FAR EASIER FOR AMERICANS TO REMEMBER THAN THE SIMPLE EXPEDIENT OF ADHERING TO THE CALENDAR BASED DATAGE OF THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX! 

I'm makin' 6 bucks an hour...

Oh dear, Xym is a VERY bad babysitter!

'twas Brickfest, and all went to Hell from the off!

Firstly, it was all a-downpour of deluge, so a 20min trek to the pub in the floods. Not a problem, but soooo hungry, so thought to partake of the BBQ.

So, pint in hand, off to the waterlogged beer garden, where, at qtr to 2, the "BBQ" is only doing bacon rolls.

Bacon Rolls? At a BBQ? And just that? Where's the chicken wings, burgers, ribs, etc? It's well past lunch and people are hungry!

"We might be doing cheeseburgers later"

Well, that's fuck all use! Off to the chippy then... oh, I can't, coz I has a pint in hand. Grrrr.

Oh, and those expected at 2 can't make it till 4! So, finish up pint, head to chippy, then off to theirs,

Chippy has no chips. Aaaarrrggh! So, 20min trek in the rain to location 2.

Later followed by a 20min trek back. In the rain. 

But was great fun... but the trouble with all-day family-friendly festivals is that it's often filled with drunken cockmeisters, popping pills and generally being Prince-Of-Wales-Road-Obnoxious-Fighty-Ignorant-Cunts.

Like the twat who barged between my sister and her youngest niece, shoving his groin in her face as he forced his way through. And then took exception to me taking him to task for being a brute and coming between a mother and child.

He didn't give a shit - he said he was coming though with his beer, so what's the problem. Apparently, he'd already been in several altercations already, and popped a few too many pills, so I was advised not to chastise him too much, in case he decided to give me a duffing up.

Or the dodgy bloke [pædo] who thought it appropriate to randomly twerk up against 15yr old girls...

Anyhoo, selfish fuckers who ruin family friendly atmosphere aside, it was good fun... until the youngest sibling was traumatised further by the nudie drummer. And being trod on by people. And by emaciated haggard old crones in sparkly cardigans dancing 'sexily' whilst flinging their drooping withered jugs about in all directions...

...oh, wait, that last trauma was mine & Jo's *shudder*.

So, one child had to be returned home... 

...and then Parent #2 also had to leave... 

...leaving me to look after my underage niece and her friend!

Me! In charge of teenage girls, at a Rock Festival, at a full-capacity venue, with all the dangers of end-of-night clubland!

I think I did a goodish job looking after them. At least I got them fed, watered, and home well before curfew mostly in one piece! One may have broken their arm on a nettle leaf, and poured her lavish meal of papas fritas en el aire fresco en la lluvia into the roadside river, but I think, under the circumstances, I managed herding tipsy teens home OK in the end!

I'm one HELL of a fantastic Uncle! I think I may have gained a surrogate niece into the bargain too!

So, that's Fantastic Babysitter to add to my long list of accumulated titles I have!

Sundæ, doughnut Sundæ...

So warbled them there You Two, and a fine tribute to fine seaside fayre.

Yes, we went off to Greet Your Muff.

Fine Dining in a poncey Italian cellar, followed by the dessert of champions on the seafront.

Fresh, steaming hot doughnut, doused in powdered cinnamon, heaped atop with Mr Whippy ice cream, drizzled with strawberry syrup, and sprinkled with hundreds and thousands of sprinkles. 

Now, that is bliss! 

Might have to return next Sunday for another one...

Black font, black background, total DARKNESS (and no spaceship, spaceship SPACESHIP!!!)...

YES! 

This is REAL music.

Dark

Brooding

Important

Groundbreaking.

(check out the lyrics)

Darkness, no parents!

Continued darkness, more darkness, get it?

The opposite of Light!

Black hole, curtains drawn

In the basement, middle of the night

Blacked out windows

Other places that are dark!

Black suit, black coffee

(You get it, that's just the first verse)

Darkness, no parents!

Super-rich - kind of makes it better...

WITCH...

From yesterday's performance...

Bad luck isn't brought by broken mirrors, but by broken minds...

♪ Opening to the sighs
  ♪ Suspiria
    ♪ Witch
      ♪ Sighs
        ♪ Markos
          ♪ Black Forest
            ♪ Blind Concert
              ♪ Death Valzer
Claudio Simonetti's Goblin, Union Chapel, Islington, Londinium, 19th Aug 2014. 

There is a certain magic to Suspiria, and to see it on the big screen, in a chapel, with Goblin performing the score live is something a bit more than special! 

The music is a big part of Suspiria, and being played live, with the acoustics of a chapel, is nothing short of wonderous. Combine that with the gorgeous art dripping colorfully off the screen... perfect cinema! 

And I met a really hot Italian Babe, who was like a blend between Asia Argento and my mate Becky out of Joykiller :) !

A trip to London doesn't get any better than that!