people

I conlude I don't like people. Not anywhere in or near my space lately, anyway. I can't see through them at gigs (yes, wingnut snogging your bird in front of me half the gig, get a room) they smell and are noisy. Unpredictable too. They act as if I am invisible, maybe I should have mentioned that I am liable to fall over and vomit without notice as I am poorly? I am unscared by the massive bikers, unphased by the hairy outlaw types stomping around dragging their knuckles. I am an invisible middle aged woman, what can they do to me? I like to stare at the fashion victims, the people who do not own either a mirror or any self conscious genes, the clothes that time (or a laundry) forgot. I snigger up my sleeve at the greying pony tails and mullets sliding off the back of shiny heads. I am judgemental, bitchy and scathing, lack tolerance and patience, and most of all I am fed up of you talking all the way through a gig. I know I have said it before, but once more with feeling; If you want to talk, go home and put a cd on. Feck the hell out of my listening space when I have paid to see/hear a band not your moronic drivel. Or I swear one day I will just flip. I will grab the nearest heineken (ubiquitous) and tip it over your festering scabrous heads, and then ram your sweaty overpriced tour T shirt into your gaping maws.
(Except you, small contingent of guys with a brave little confederate flag with BLS - Iran on it in marker pen. You may do as you like. Rest assured, Zakk had no clue what it may have cost you to get there last night, as long as you might spend 60euro on a hooded sweatshirt or 25 on a beanie. Made of  acrylic.)

I want to believe there is a perfect country somewhere. Or even a perfectly good one. With efficient services and great customer support. With environmentally sound systems in place for rubbish and recycling, for the milieu and industries. With public transport that functions well enough for the money, and roads that aren't constantly clogged and falling apart or being fixed. Where crime is rare and local governments really care about people, and the Police are not corrupt.Where Health Services run effectively and safely without fear of worse illnesses when you pass through them. Where children can walk around safely without being picked on or mugged, and thieves are not free to suck you dry and walk away, while banks do nothing. But I bite my lips and say 'we can vote, we can walk around 'free' and speak our minds, we can come and go as we like'; because when I see what the alternative is I realize we have to accept compromises. No matter how crap daily life can be, we do have a choice.
(Or we could move to Belgium?)

and

another thing; don't get me started on 'I whip My Hair'

Pop will eat itself

Just watched Katie Price/Jordan doing 'I want to break free' - dressed as Freddie Mercury in the original. A woman who makes a living out of her car crash life and surgically enhanced body, role playing a gay man who pretended to be straight for most of his life, dressed as a woman in a sly nudge nudge wink wink message to the world... I think it is the best and most intelligent thing she has ever done. How much more Post Modern can anyone get? I loathe everything about her and her lifestyle choices, because let's face it, she chose every bit of it. She manipulates and controls, makes money by exploiting those who exploit her, she is a sad potty mouthed, trashy role model for millions of girls (of all ages, right up to the sad, divorced and disenfranchised bitter mid life crises sufferers) and yet somehow she brazenly walks through it all unscathed. Is she oblivious? Is she ignorant? Actually, I really don't care. She is as plastic as the Barbie dolls she resembles, as empty headed as a shop window mannequin (I imagine). But, in a way that possibly she doesn't even 'get' herself, she has transcended all taste and irony with this masterpiece. I may be totally wrong, and have misunderstood it all.. but just for a minute there I lost myself...

ps

I cannot escape the fact. I will have a birthday this year. It will be a 'significant' one. But please, let me approach it in my own time. Stop asking me what am I doing to mark it. It crept up on me, unasked. Let me mull it over and digest it for at least ten more years, please?

wheeee

back on the bike today; first time in nearly 3 weeks. Always a bit trepidatious at first, but soon get the feeling back. Exhilaration, acceleration, celebration. I set the gears to 3 (it's the only 3 I have) so I can have maximum pressure exerted. I can really pretend to be working it then. Not bitterly cold, but still enough to make a few tears trickle down; not as bad as the heart of winter when you seem to arrive at every journey end with a stalactite of frozen snot and tears adhering to your lower face. Of course, you don't know that, as your face is so numb you can't even smile. Or if you set off smiling, the rictus grin is now firmly frozen into place. I nearly hit a pigeon, but it was so fat I think my wheel would have buckled anyway. Goose did not chase me anyway. Not being able to hear traffic did freak me out, but I just tried to keep alert and watch out for idiots. I was even brave enough to overtake - yay me! I have missed it.

snot

I hate people who gob in the street, Hawk, Flob, Expectorate, Spit. By any name it is foul. But you know what is just as bad and seems to be getting more common (common as in frequent, it is already common as in muck)? That thing where people hold a nostril closed and clear the entire contents of their skulls by blowing out of the free nostril. On the pavement, walking, or cycling past. Or just standing on a bridge. I HATE YOU ALL. Just stop. I don't know how to make them stop. Hepatitis doesn't stop people spitting, nor does TB. Can I fire ball bearings at them?  Can I take a photo or video and post it on youtube? Name and shame? It's not like dog poo, you might defend it; but I still manage to step in it and it makes me gag as much a shite...STOP doing it. It's gross and unacceptable on any level. Worst offenders? those hippy dippy dready tie dyed dogs on a string glasto circa 82 casualties; 'well the natives do it yaaa, so it must be ok, yaaaa?' 'if it's good enough for the indigenous tribes, mmmkay?'
Footballers do it too, on TV, every weekend and match night. Therefore kids and impressionable pop stars copy it and it becomes endemic. If there were to be a campaign against it, these are the role models we need to get on board. Please, someone do it. I am sick (heaving) of a world full of snot and grolllies...

while I am on the subject

Just read those lyrics. Hoping that Do it Like a Dude meant somehow break the glass ceiling in big business and put to good use generations of emancipation and hard earned rights. That the song will somehow empower a new generation of girls (ggrrrls) to reach out and grab the future. No. It just means drink until you lose control of your faculties, have sex standing up and then pass out. I quote 'Grab my crotch, wear my hat low' and 'drink beer' ... in what way is this aspirational??? Or am I "annoying finger curl either side of quote" - 'missing the point'?

and as for the Vaccines - Don't get me started

do it like a dude

If by that you mean 'rap' without talent, then yes, Jessie J; indubitably. I now can go into grumpy old tart mode quite justifiably, having forced myself to watch this travesty of music. Must we fling this pop filth at our kids, indeed. There is not one shred of songwriting involved here, or did I miss something? No musical ability necessary, no years of paying dues playing toilets and clubs. Just slap on some slap, swear and make choking noises whilst attempting to rhyme in a manic faux mockney estuary chav lite screech. Judder your pelvis in the way an epileptic nymphomaniac from planet MTV would if tasered by a sex dwarf with Parkinsons and Tourettes (apologies to anyone actually with Tourettes, even though it seems to have become the most 'cool' affliction of nos jours). It (Pop) has become such an extreme parody that it disappeared up it's own fundament; I see no difference between this inane din and the piss take songs in 'Get Him To the Greek'. You could not make it up - wait. They DID. Has the talent pool shrunk so much, and the attention span become so nanosecond short, that this digital autotuned pile of steaming ordure now passes for astonishing talent? That the dumbed down drivel they dribble is acceptable as Wildean wit when audible? Lady Gaga the Post apocalyptic poetess of preciousness? I would say pretentious, but it isn't even that elevated. Is that the appeal? The harsh urban pretence? So that everyone can feel a bit gangsta, innit? Pop a cap in yo mamas ass when she ax yo to do yo homework? even though you live in Bath... Maybe I just 'don't get it' in the way I used to think older people didn't get Punk; but Punk did at least spawn some discernible talents and influences? All I see this genre doing is revolving (devolving?) in ever decreasing circles; even dub step is old hat now. For one fleeting moment I did hope it might be the music of the future, the way forward... but no. False alarm. There is no future, as we used to say...

really?

was looking up tips on waking up refreshed, and came across this
17. Be grateful for not dying
The Buddha said that every time you go to bed you should consider that you won’t wake up. That way, when you wake up you will be especially grateful for the day you have ahead of you. Instead of seeing the day as a burden that you have to “get through” you will see it as an opportunity to do something meaningful and beneficial.
Why? Because you could die tonight.
When applied correctly this realization will bring you tremendous energy.

um. NO. If I went to bed thinking I might die in my sleep, would I get a wink? Not bloody likely. Though I do like the get out clause 'When applied correctly...'

still deaf

I demand to have some energy. 

Was reading some comments under a you tube video of  the cyclone in Australia. I would cut and paste some of them here but
a) there are too many
b) they are mental

How do these kind of people function in their daily lives? Are they only spewing out hatred online in a bizarre alter ego? During the day are they mild mannered civil servants or fast food servers? That lady who served you at the bank, maybe she goes home and logs on as a rabid anti Christian, or anti Muslim, or anti anyone who lives in Cairns who isn't an Aboriginal?  Does the smiley postman transform in a postbox, donning a black mask and swearing allegiance to Trolling In the Name of Hatred? Hiding behind a PC and an anonymous user name. Or even more sinister, 13 year old boys who think it's funny and 'cool'?
Why do I care....
(I was intrigued a bit, by the shifting polar magnetic force conspiracy brigade, who quote the existence of a new horoscope sign as evidence that the world will end)