Wednesday, 14 October 2009

The Secret Life Of Carbohydrates.


Right, before we get started a quick promo for a new support group I've recently joined called,,,, 'VEGAN CRACKHEADS AND THE TRANNIES WHO LOVE THEM!!' It's a club for the health-conscience crack addict. As well as pre and post op trannies (who are in love with crackheads). And whomever else really, it's all about the love... (of crack cocaine) Feel free to share funny stories about breaking into your grandma's house and stealing her engagement ring for crack money (even though she was going to give it to you when you got married), and post any recipes you have for vegan barbeque short ribs or fork tender vegan veal. And by all means let us know if your doctor botched your operation and now you're a member of an entirely new sex. Or if you're just coming down and need to score, perhaps someone else in the group can help.


While binning some stuff kicking about the spare room a few days ago I came across some old photo's from school. The usual stuff, sports days, summer fayre's, football presentations etc. Whilst slinging most of it I found an old picture from a school football team presentation and was shocked to find my fond memories of balmy July mornings spent popping the old pig skin into the onion bag thrown into stark relief when my eye's wandered onto the anger-filled, shadowy silhouette of a man long since forgotten. Now the 20th Century, I'm sure you'll agree, has thrown up it's fair share of evil bastards - Hitler, Pol Pot, Ceaucescu and all. But this figure I'd spotted, my old games teacher at High School Mr Richardson was up there with the best of them. A shithouse of a man who was known as 'Basil' due to his incredible likeness to John Cleese in Fawlty Towers, a man who might have been put on this Earth for the singular reason of terrorising every adolescent child put under his charge. When it came to terror, Basil certainly knew his friggin' onions. Firstly there was his unnerving genius for zooming in on a young lads particular weakness and exploiting it to the max. Sample quote to a vastly overweight lad (who's name I'll leave out for reasons obvious) "Son, you are a fat tub of shit smelling lard, if you paid more attention to footy training and less attention to overfilling your dinner plate you might go somewhere in your cut-short-due-to-high-blood-pressure life!" To another lad who's Mother had incredibly, run off with a sailor: "Just because your Mother is a dirty little scrubber , it doesn't give you the right to spend most of the game standing in an offside position you cunt!" And to another poor boy who's Father had been killed in an accident at the pit, "Stand up straight you scruffy little orphan and share with us all your complete ignorance of Rugby Union rules!" And that was if he was in a good mood. If he was feeling slightly less kindly disposed, he'd dispense with the cheap insults and opt for a far more direct form of physical attack. Now if you can remember, in the 70's and early 80's, teachers were pretty much given free run to beat the shit out of anyone they deemed worthy on a regular basis without the authorities raising a stink. Basil fairly reveled in this impunity to prosecution doling out a wide repertoire of methods of inducing pain via an even wider armoury of weapons. The perfectly aimed blackboard rubber launched what seemed like impossible distances to find it's ground zero almost every time in the side of someones head was a favourite of his, and most painfully, the sharp end of a metal ruler, dispatched rapier-like between the shoulder blades.
But even these methods of retribution were like light relief compared to Basil's true speciality - keeping pupils behind and meting out punishments that Josef Mengele would have baulked at. He also had some shit for those that thought they were a bit on the cerebral side and had over the years built up a tolerance to the physical punishments. Basil would for the most minor of infractions keep a few poor souls back for hours making them compose the most meaningless 10,000 word essays entitled 'The Inside Of A Ping Pong Ball, The Escape Velocity Of Derek-Upon-Tweed or Fascinating Facts About Fjords.
A Thoroughly unacceptable human being and a man long since overdue his comeuppance. Which duly arrived in 1999 when he was hauled up for embezzling school funds. The announcement of this was followed by many a celebratory knees-up. More satisfying still was the jamboree that went off a couple of years back when news reached us from a former schoolmate of mine who had moved into a house on the same street that Basil now lived on in retired bliss and told us a story that Basil's house had been done over by a group of teenage burglars. Now I'm not one to condone street robbery or any type of breaking and entering but the manor in which it had happened did I admit bring a large smile to my face. It seems that the teenage gang that had robbed his house had come without gloves to cover their prints and had donned the contents of Basil's sock drawer over there grubby little hands so as not to leave any incriminating dabs. And so it was that Fingermouse, Basil Brush, Sweep, Lambchop, Hartley The Hare and Muffin The Mule marauded around his flat helping themselves to his property and chucking stuff about like irritated 2 year olds overwhelmed by the complexity of Leggo.
To raise the hilarity level to ear bursting levels it also transpired that one of the neighbours had witnessed the most part of the crime and had heard the robbers chatting in the back garden as they smoked Basils stolen fags and made good their escape. Unlike 'Reservoir Dogs' when Kietel, Madsen and Roth amused us with the Madonna 'Like A Virgin' debate, apparently this lot had been trying to figure out if Sue off Sooty & Sweep was 'gagging for it,,,' when she sang 'My Boy Lollipop'. The long Winter evenings in whichever nick they currently reside in must just fly by.


Reet then, more party news now innit and a word from our friends at the aggressivly average 'Nevilles Disco'.
After the success of their launch earlier this year, they feel the time is right for the second instalment of their ‘one off parties’....
"We are delighted to bring Mo Morris, one half of London based cult band, ‘A Mountain Of One’ up north to play his first gig in the region. Receiving rave reviews on the release and currently in the midst of a tour for their ‘Institute of Joy’ album; we managed to grab Mo on a random weekend off to come up and share with us his unique style and musical taste. Ranging from ‘odd ball rock and psych, to weird electronics and sleazed out disco’, Mo takes you on a musical journey that keeps you glued to the dance floor, something we can vouch for personally. Our good friends and prodigal sons 'Bad Passion Project' will be returning home to give you a sample of what is widely regarded as one of the capitals best underground club nights. It’s been a great year for these guys, hosting and playing at packed out parties, with forthcoming releases on their label 'FORC', and gig’s as far afield as Croatia’s 'Electric Elephant Festival'. Neville's Disco will be getting the party started, so make sure you get down early.The venue is DB Social, a unique, intimate cafe, just yards down from Monument metro station. Head in the direction of the cities library, it’s opposite Halifax bank."

Nevilles Disco Pres: Mo Morris & Bad Passion Project.
Saturday 24th Oct.
9 PM - 3 AM
@ DB Social

For more details n' stuff click here for their Facebook page.

Cracking little Mo Morris mix here too for your ear holes. Simply click the link below to download it now.

Mo Morris (Mountain Of One) October mix for Nevilles Disco.

Till next time.
Big Love. Moogar. X.

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