Guess What!
It's Raining!
In London!
I'm calling The Times, The Sun and the Evening Standard and telling them to hold the front page.
.
.
.
Actually, there seems to be a bit of a drought on in London, even though it is raining cats and dogs at this very minute. I reckon they just don't know how to manage water in the UK, being so sure that there will be plenty of it.
That's by the by.
Here's my blog:
Impaled Nazarene kicked ass. I suspected they were going to, even though I have heard that backstage that are Assholes and I can personally re-iterate that their album is a nasty nasty piece of work, replete with misogyny, extreme nationalism and all kinds of horrible sentiments. Trust me, possibly the most ideologically sound song on the album is called 'Goat Sodomy'. Learning the lesson from Monday Night, I took the tube straight home and went to bed instead of looking for some kind of after party (I should have gone straight home on Monday Night).
I spent some on the morning bashing out 500 words on that, which I've just printed. I'm going to put it under my pillow tonight with my Every Time I Die review and attack it with a bright red pen tomorrow morning. Then I'll send the ImpNaz review to finnish-metal.com and the ETID to Death Before Dishonour mag to see if they want it.
And I'll also take some time to transcribe the AFI interview. I have told Cec at Fasterlouder that it'll be sent by Monday.
My parents are probably mid-air by now. I might meet them at the airport tomorrow. But of course, my tendency to run late for everything might make me miss them again.
Nevermind:
Today I was awoken by my Landlady calling to ask if there was the paperwork for the loan to get the boiler fixed anywhere. On a whim I decided to check all places it might be, and I found that someone had put said paperwork into the shoebox next to the table where the mail goes. She told me she would be by in the evening to collect it.
Sweet. That means that we are now only a week or two away from a new boiler. Which is fucking good, since the other two are really not big on the cold shower thing, and it takes an act of sheer self-delusion for me to endure it.
Still knowing that the worst thing that will happen to you every day is the cold fucking shower that makes you scream and nearly stops your heart is a good thing, of sorts.
In any case, after two hours of writing, one freezing cold shower and hanging towels up to dry (I meant to hang them up at 0200 in the morning, but I fell asleep), I headed out to collect my AFI tix from the Universal Offices.
When I got to the Universal Offices the pretty and friendly brunette at the front desk was at lunch, and in her place was a surly security guard. Fortunately he called through to the Promotions department, who sent someone down to give me the complementary tickets. Still, it would have been nice to see the Brunette again because a) making friends with and building relationships with the gatekeepers at Record Companies etc is an important tactic in this industry and b) any girl in London that is both pretty and friendly is worth seeing again.
After that I wandered down to the statue of the Duke of York and back up another street, Eventually finding myself on Berwick Street in Soho, where I found the Sister Ray Music Shop.
Cool.
Following Berwick Street took me to Oxford Street, where I went to HMV and then to Borders to buy a Kerrang and 2000 AD. At Borders I met a pretty Finnish Girl (seriously, girls from Finland, Estonia and Latvia are so fucking hot) who had flown to London with her Brother to go to the AFI show at the Ballroom (they had already gone to the show in Berlin last Friday).
I gave them the URL for fasterlouder and told the girl that I would see them at the show tomorrow.
Next - Tube home. I stepped out at Liverpool Street because the carriage was like a pack of sardines, something I try to avoid because it makes for a fat target rather than just being uncomfortable. When I got to Leytonstone I check my mail to find the FL editor calling for interviewers for Mendeen and Coldseed. I volunteered for Mendeed, on the condition that it wasn't going to be done Thursday Night GMT (because I'd be at AFI).
On the way home I ran into my Landlady leaving (she had been by the flat to pick up the bank paperwork) and she filled me in on the Prison Break developments (both of us being mad Prison Break fans).
I'm still excited that I'm getting a new boiler soon.
My favourite part of the shower is when I finally turn the hot water on and for thirty seconds the water is something other than ice cold.
The fact that so much stuff seems to be coming together right now makes me worry a little bit. It makes me want to find ways to bind it all so that the pieces of the puzzle stay together, instead of flying off in all directions like they usually do in my life.
Anways, I've got work to do at home.
Over and out.
J
In London!
I'm calling The Times, The Sun and the Evening Standard and telling them to hold the front page.
.
.
.
Actually, there seems to be a bit of a drought on in London, even though it is raining cats and dogs at this very minute. I reckon they just don't know how to manage water in the UK, being so sure that there will be plenty of it.
That's by the by.
Here's my blog:
Impaled Nazarene kicked ass. I suspected they were going to, even though I have heard that backstage that are Assholes and I can personally re-iterate that their album is a nasty nasty piece of work, replete with misogyny, extreme nationalism and all kinds of horrible sentiments. Trust me, possibly the most ideologically sound song on the album is called 'Goat Sodomy'. Learning the lesson from Monday Night, I took the tube straight home and went to bed instead of looking for some kind of after party (I should have gone straight home on Monday Night).
I spent some on the morning bashing out 500 words on that, which I've just printed. I'm going to put it under my pillow tonight with my Every Time I Die review and attack it with a bright red pen tomorrow morning. Then I'll send the ImpNaz review to finnish-metal.com and the ETID to Death Before Dishonour mag to see if they want it.
And I'll also take some time to transcribe the AFI interview. I have told Cec at Fasterlouder that it'll be sent by Monday.
My parents are probably mid-air by now. I might meet them at the airport tomorrow. But of course, my tendency to run late for everything might make me miss them again.
Nevermind:
Today I was awoken by my Landlady calling to ask if there was the paperwork for the loan to get the boiler fixed anywhere. On a whim I decided to check all places it might be, and I found that someone had put said paperwork into the shoebox next to the table where the mail goes. She told me she would be by in the evening to collect it.
Sweet. That means that we are now only a week or two away from a new boiler. Which is fucking good, since the other two are really not big on the cold shower thing, and it takes an act of sheer self-delusion for me to endure it.
Still knowing that the worst thing that will happen to you every day is the cold fucking shower that makes you scream and nearly stops your heart is a good thing, of sorts.
In any case, after two hours of writing, one freezing cold shower and hanging towels up to dry (I meant to hang them up at 0200 in the morning, but I fell asleep), I headed out to collect my AFI tix from the Universal Offices.
When I got to the Universal Offices the pretty and friendly brunette at the front desk was at lunch, and in her place was a surly security guard. Fortunately he called through to the Promotions department, who sent someone down to give me the complementary tickets. Still, it would have been nice to see the Brunette again because a) making friends with and building relationships with the gatekeepers at Record Companies etc is an important tactic in this industry and b) any girl in London that is both pretty and friendly is worth seeing again.
After that I wandered down to the statue of the Duke of York and back up another street, Eventually finding myself on Berwick Street in Soho, where I found the Sister Ray Music Shop.
Cool.
Following Berwick Street took me to Oxford Street, where I went to HMV and then to Borders to buy a Kerrang and 2000 AD. At Borders I met a pretty Finnish Girl (seriously, girls from Finland, Estonia and Latvia are so fucking hot) who had flown to London with her Brother to go to the AFI show at the Ballroom (they had already gone to the show in Berlin last Friday).
I gave them the URL for fasterlouder and told the girl that I would see them at the show tomorrow.
Next - Tube home. I stepped out at Liverpool Street because the carriage was like a pack of sardines, something I try to avoid because it makes for a fat target rather than just being uncomfortable. When I got to Leytonstone I check my mail to find the FL editor calling for interviewers for Mendeen and Coldseed. I volunteered for Mendeed, on the condition that it wasn't going to be done Thursday Night GMT (because I'd be at AFI).
On the way home I ran into my Landlady leaving (she had been by the flat to pick up the bank paperwork) and she filled me in on the Prison Break developments (both of us being mad Prison Break fans).
I'm still excited that I'm getting a new boiler soon.
My favourite part of the shower is when I finally turn the hot water on and for thirty seconds the water is something other than ice cold.
The fact that so much stuff seems to be coming together right now makes me worry a little bit. It makes me want to find ways to bind it all so that the pieces of the puzzle stay together, instead of flying off in all directions like they usually do in my life.
Anways, I've got work to do at home.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 7:36 pm
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