neil writes the blog

Gents,

2011-06-28T23:46:00.000+01:00

I trust you're all looking forward to the annual Training Centre golf outing on Saturday and have your travel arrangements fully in hand. As a reminder, the first tee time is 11:00am and it's always prudent to get to the course a good hour beforehand to settle up your bets with the bookie and avoid the indignation of having your bacon roll eaten by me. If you're getting the train, a plentiful supply of taxis are usually available at Leuchars station to transport you the short distance to the course. However, if this turns out not to be the case, call or text me and I'll wipe the last crumbs of your breakfast off my lips and come and collect you. You're welcome.

For those of you with golf spreadsheets to update - and let's face it, who doesn't - the full* cost of your outing on Saturday will be £50.00 covering green fees, catering and prize fund donation. At £10.00 cheaper than last year, I'm sure you'll agree this represents excellent value.

Cheers,

Edge

*Does not include train fares, taxi fares, "choo-choo" alcohol, personal biscuit and continental cheese platters, discretionary petrol contribution for drivers, betting stakes, waitress tips, Scotrail fines, impulse flights to Amsterdam, emergency hotel rooms, late night taxis, late night buses, late night trains, late night h00kers, police bribes, tattoo removal, reconstructive surgery, firearms, tiger tranquilizer...

When My Girlfriend...

2011-05-31T23:59:00.001+01:00

...said she was leaving me because of my obsession with The Monkees, I thought she was joking.

And then I saw her face.

©Big Mac

Post Masters Pick-Me-Up...

2011-04-13T18:51:00.004+01:00

A husband and wife are sitting quietly in bed reading when the wife looks over and asks...

Wife: "What would you do if I died? Would you get married again?"
Husband: "Definitely not!"
Wife: Why not? Don't you like being married?"
Husband: "Of course I do."
Wife: "Then why wouldn't you remarry?"
Husband: Okay, okay, I'd getting married again."
Wife (looking hurt): "You would?"
Husband: *groan*
Wife: "Would you live in our house?"
Husband: "Sure, it's a great house."
Wife: "Would you sleep with her in our bed?"
Husband: "Where else would we sleep?"
Wife: "Would you let her drive my car?"
Husband: "Probably, it's almost new."
Wife: "Would you replace my pictures with hers?"
Husband: "That would seem like the proper thing to do."
Wife: "Would you give her my jewelery?"
Husband: "No, I'm sure she'd want her own."
Wife: "Would you take her golfing with you?"
Husband: "Yeah, those are always good times."
Wife: "And would she use my clubs?"
Husband: "No. She's left-handed."
Wife: *silence*
Husband: "Shit."

March.. Spring.. Bluebirds.. Shoulder.. Tweetin'..

2011-03-31T23:59:00.004+01:00

New month. Definitely quitting smoking today. Once I've finished this pack of ten.

It's a real b*tch trying to unravel Walkman earphones in the middle of a packed commuter train… um… I mean iPod. Obviously.

By far the best thing about my new car are the cup holders. And the fact that it ISN'T a f***ing BMW.

At the company's annual golf club dinner and prize giving counting all my medals. Also have 'free drink' vouchers to use. Gonna be messy…

Bed at 2am. Alarm at 6:56am. Golf at 8:07am. Bubble bath at 12:36pm. LLLLOOOONNNNNGGGGG afternoon nap at 1:00pm!

Michelle Williams has come a long way since 'Dawson's Creek'. Great in 'Brokeback Mountain'. Outstanding in 'Blue Valentine'. And so cute.

The air con/heating in the office is goosed. If anyone has glass needing cut, I have the perfect nipples for the job.

Up - 4:45am. Flight - 6:35am. Divert to Stansted. Covent Gdn - 10:30am. Tube f’d 6:20pm. Flight delay 2hrs. Home - 11:40pm. HATE f'n London!

WTF happened to Boots at the Gyle? It's HUGE! Can't find my moisturiser anywhere! Um… I mean hair mousse! Eh… I mean condoms. Obviously.

When you finish on a weight machine at the gym, do you ever move the pin down so the girl who's waiting thinks you're "cut"? No, me neither.

Retweet this if you know someone, or have someone, or have heard of someone who knows someone. If you don't know anyone…
(…cont) or even if you've heard of someone who doesn't know anyone, then still copy this. It's important to spread the message.

Went to see 'Animal Kingdom' tonight (think, Australian Sopranos rather than cuddly Disney theme park) and was blown away. Not literally.

Spend about 3 hours (and £57) trying to win £10 in the office Red Nose Day putting challenge. Don't say I never do my bloody bit for charity!

Early start to go play in the Eyemouth Golf Club Winter Open. Would've been more fun staying at home, shaving my head and chewing tinfoil.

Compound yesterday's misery by slogging round Castle Course in St. Andrews. Remind me never to play golf again before the clocks go forward.

Why, when I faithfully buy every new REM album touted as "the best in 10 years", am I always disappointed. Nothing has surpassed "Green".

So-called 'friend' gives me 200 duty free cigs from USA. Gonna have to quit again at month end. *shrugs shoulders in that 'no ma fault' way*

Finally got round to buying the ‘new’ Prefab Sprout album. WTF was I thinking? It’s far too cheery.

How did I miss ‘Moon’ at the movies last year? Great, great film.

Scotland's Census 2011, Question 13: What religion, religious denomination or body do you belong to? (Question is voluntary) Answer: Jedi

Oh, Sophie Raworth… Sophie, Sophie, Sophie... Or Susanna Reid? Or even Emily Maitlis? I’m torn…

No wait… Gillian Anderson photo shoot in this week’s Radio Times… is it Christmas?

Actually… I quite like the new REM album now.

NO Mrs… you cannot just "park" your f*****g BMW 4x4 in the middle of the f*****g High Street with the f*****g hazard lights on outside the nursery so that your precious, obese, buddle of f*****g joy only has 20 f*****g yards to waddle to the front door. (I realise that was WAY more than 140 characters but sometimes, there just aren't enough letters in the f*****g English language for burning issues of the day like this. F*****s!)

Somebody told me today that I'm "WAY too old to be wearing clothes with hoods". But they're wrong. Aren't they?

February... If I Was On Twitter

2011-02-28T07:17:00.006Z

Up early this morning to register for the Chicago Marathon on October 9th. Paid $170 for the privilege. That better include pizza!
Barney's Version, good. Sideways, great. John Adams, brilliant. 30 Rock, awesome. Paul Giamatti is the greatest actor working today.
Never a chore to strip to your grape smugglers in the office in the middle of the work day and have a young woman rub her hands all over you.
Always a chore to get the 6.35am flight to London… on a frickin’ Friday. Still, I get to see my nephew and niece tonight.
Just watched Toy Story 3 with Tommy and Amy. They never batted an eyelid during the last 15 minutes. I was in a bit of a state.
The gym is still f*****g mobbed with New Year Resolution fatties. When exactly will they lose their resolve and go on a Happy Meal Hunt?
5 weeks till the 1st gig of the year and The Signals are sounding frickin’ awesome in rehearsal. Tea and Hobnobs are nice too. Rock ‘n roll!
Stopped smoking today.
‘The Fighter’ is great, as are Mark Whalberg and Christian Bale, but Amy Adams is very special. Reminds me of someone. So I totally would…
‘Work’ from home to pack my holiday pants, watch ‘Loose Women’ at the gym and get a blood pressure check at the doctors. It was high!
Off to Spain with Chomp, Pooch and Pooch Senior for a long weekend of golf. Up at 6:30am, get to bed at 2am, pished. Result!
Great golf day. Sun shining in a clear blue sky. Shoot 76 and win 7&5.
What is it with the Spanish and f***ing goat’s cheese? ENOUGH!
By far the best thing about 'True Grit' is the dialogue. "You give out very little sugar with your pronouncements." Poetry.
Round at Dave’s tonight to eat nachos, talk golf trips, play poker and lose money.
@GillianAnderson Restraining order? Was that really necessary? After everything we’ve shared together? In my mind.
Stopped smoking (again) today.
Doug: “I''ve almost finished writing a new song for the band." Band (hot tea now running down their noses): “But you're the drummer!"
‘Paul’ is quite a funny film. Just not funny enough. The girl’s pretty cute though.
Exciting new musical duo The Dixie Chaps rehearse their inimitable Americanafolkcountryrock stylings ahead of their first ever gig in April.
Tried a 'sprint' from the car park to the door of the office to avoid the rain. Next time I'm choosing 'get wet' instead of 'cough up lung'.
“Do you have Bullseye from Toy Story?” “Sorry sir, we don’t.” “How about those Tron suits in adult sizes?” “We’re closing now sir.”
Stunning golf day at Dundonald near Troon. Weather-wise.
If you watch '127 Hours' backwards, it's an uplifting story about a disabled man who finds an arm in the desert.

In Case You Ever Wondered...

2011-01-11T08:20:00.000Z

... this is EXACTLY what it's like to be in a band.

3:00am... 18/12/10...

2010-12-19T18:47:00.002Z

Who says there's nothing to do on long motorway journeys?

Snow & The X Factor...

2010-11-30T12:43:00.000Z

...what rich f*****g lives we lead.

Your Dad'll Blog About How Comfortable He Is...

2010-11-26T23:07:00.001Z

Ooh Baby, Give Me One More Chance...

2010-10-12T08:39:00.001+01:00

Something For The Weekend 52

2010-10-01T06:59:00.005+01:00

Milk? Check. Coffee? Check. Rolls? Check. Bacon? Check. Beer? Check. Pizza? Check. Jackie D? Check. Day off work? Check? Big Boy Pampers? Check. Let the 60-hour Sky HD Ryder Cup coverage commence. Hope the Team Europe swings are as sweet as this one...

Christ, I need a pee already!

Barenaked Ladies... And Me

2010-09-26T22:48:00.002+01:00

One of the best live bands, ever! And I'm strangely attracted to the lumberjack shirts. Weird.

Ingredients £8.92...

2010-08-31T23:59:00.007+01:00

...making your sister eat your frittata di spaghetti con rucola... priceless.

Why I Don't Run Anymore...

2010-07-31T23:59:00.001+01:00

Happiness Is...

2010-06-29T18:42:00.002+01:00

May

2010-05-31T23:59:00.002+01:00

Jetlag, pizza, hydration, sleep, toilet, sleep, toilet, sleep, bank holiday, golf - Ladybank - 69 - WIN!- WTF?, break-up (sad), work (pish), pub (good), grasscutting, golf (pish), golf (unspeakably pisher)…

band practice (rusty), work, tv, sleep, boys July golf booked, work, tv, ironing, sleep, golf (pish… a new low), new Justin Currie album (tremendous), first date (fantastic), golf - 72 - WIN! - WTF?, X-Files dvd *sigh*, golf...

band practice (new snare drum, f*ck me that's loud), 'work' from home, catch-up lunch, golf, work late (f*ck!), work late (F****CK!), new John Mayer album (exactly like the last John Mayer album... in a good way), Crowded House gig (surprisingly rockin'), Signals gig (unsurprisingly ROCKIN'), house clean hoover thingy, scorching weather, candles (‘beach walk’) second date @ Justin Currie gig (phenomenal), Häagen-Dazs Strawberry Cheesecake (oh yeah!), golf, bath (ginseng & black pepper)…

5am – ‘Lost’ finale – WTF?, band practice (almost there), golf, 'work' from home, hailstones - WTF?, golf, 'work' from home, grow beard (grey) golf, shave beard, third date (does the adjective exist that means "better than 'phenomenal'"?), Signals gig (you just can't play loud enough and fast enough for cokeheads), bank holiday, golf – Archerfield – swanky – DON’T win – WTF?, band practice (yeah baby!), bath (jasmine and chamomile… and a Nokia phone, F******CK!!!)…

That was May,

Blown away,

What else do I have to say,

We didn’t start the fire…

Ever Felt Like This At Work?

2010-04-14T20:12:00.003+01:00

Christ, I need my holiday next week...

Why I Don't Write Anymore...

2010-03-31T23:59:00.002+01:00

24 - The dialogue is awful, the story's the same as the last seven seasons and I keep waiting for Leslie Neilson to appear with some dead pan conversation with Jack Bauer along the lines of, "Manhattan's gonna blow? Surely you can't be serious?" "I AM serious... and don't call me Shirley." I'm only watching to see lovely Renee Walker.

FlashForward - utter p*sh... I'm only watching 'cause the fateful future date is my birthday.

Heroes - gets worse every week... I'm only watching in the hope that little Claire Bear goes on SPRING BREAK WOO HOO with her college 'room mate'.

Damages - I have no idea why I watch this... but I do.

Mad Men - from the makers of The Sopranos, very very cool. Looks great and gets better every year.

Lost - still rivetting, despite the loss of lovely Juliette.

Fringe - Pacey Witter meets Dana Scully, what's not to like?

True Blood - From the makers of Six Feet Under, utter class. Friends don't let friends drink friends.

Dexter - can't wait for season 4.

Burn Notice - makes Miami look cool. And it's funny.

Caprica - from the makers of Battlestar Gallactica, frackin' awesome.

In Treatment - slow burning class.

The Daily Show - consistently outstanding. Funny AND thought provoking.

30 Rock - I love Liz Lemon.

The Office Season 4 - Better than the original? I love Pam... but why are we so far behind the States?

Modern Family - subtly brilliant.

How I Met Your Mother - unfairly compared to Friends and sometimes too clever for it's own good but Barney Stinson is a God.

Cougar Town - Courtney Cox + funny = promising.

...and from the category entitled "It's My Time Of The Month, So Shoot Me"

Desperate Housewives - strangely addictive this year

The Good Wife - running out of patience for Carol Hathaway to show something other than 'Mom Keeping It Together'.

Brothers & Sisters - whiney, whiney, whiney... but it's from the makers of 'thirty something' so I'm hoping Hope will appear sometime soon, hopefully.

Grey's Anatomy - c'mon, it's fantastic... or will be once again if Izzy leaves and never comes back.

Thank God for Tivo.

Perfect End To A Perfect Week...

2010-02-28T23:59:00.000Z

Ring, Ring... Ring, Ring...

Neil: "Hello?"
Mother: "Eh... hello... Alastair?" (Alastair is my sister Rona's husband. They live in England.)
Neil: "No, it's Neil."
Mother: "Neil? Neil who? Oh... NEIL? What are you doing down there at Rona's?"
Neil: "I'm not, I'm at home in my own living room."
Mother: "So is Rona there?"
Neil *sweet Jesus*: "No. I think you've dialled the WRONG NUMBER."
Mother: "Aah, right. But I know I pressed speed-dial no.3 and I haven't spoken to her in a while so I was hoping to..."
Neil: "WHOA, WHOA, WHOA... back the heck up there a second Fiona. Am I hearing that right? Did you just say that my telephone number is now number three on your speed-dial? THREE? What the f..."
Mother: "Sorry... you're breaking up... I'm going into a tunnel..."

Click.

"But Now I'm Comin' To Tha Edge..."

2010-01-31T23:59:00.001Z

Boot up laptop... click the thingy... put the kettle on... open the whatsit... cursor blinking... blinking... blinking... blinking... blinking... blinking... type... delete... type more... delete... have a right good scratch... type... go outside for a smoke (yeah, I know, I quit but 'Mad Men' made me start again)... blinking... blinking... blinking...

So thank God January's over. It's dark and cold and has a tendency to make me want to shave my head and chew tin foil as a cheery alternative to all the incessant weather-talk... “ooh look, it's snowing again.” Yeah, it's frickin' winter, get over it!

Of course, winter should be the perfect time for me to curtail my hectic social schedule and spend some quality time blogging about all the exciting blah, blah, blah... But I really can't be arsed, especially now that lovely Starbuck is in the “new” season of '24', the ultimate fast-food, disposable 21st century television. I mean, who would ever buy a boxset of '24' for “repeat viewing”? And surely Jack Bauer should be displaying a little more John Maclane-like self-deprecation by now, “how can the same sh*t, happen to the same guy.. um.. EIGHT times?”

So television's taking up a lot of my time at the moment (although I was obviously shaken to the core this week on hearing the devastating news that 'Ugly Betty's' been cancelled) but I have found time to ponder other crucial issues, like...

Who the f*ck was the sadistic b*stard who invented the little square corner on a packet of bacon? You know the one I mean? The little square corner that winks at you and says in a seductive tone, “Go on, look what I've got for you here... a handy little square corner where the plastic is stretched onto a wee flap so that you can EASILY PEEL IT BACK and enjoy all the baconly goodness in no time at all.”

So you spin the packet round and ease your newly manicured index fingernail into the corner to tease the plastic free. Initially, it parts from the flap like a *insert suitably suggestive analogy here* with only the minimum of resistance and you get yourself all excited, not only with regard to the tasty treat in store, but also at the prospect of replacing the perfectly peeled plastic in a manner which would meet all current health and safety hygiene standards. With the corner loose, it's time for the thumb to join the party, strong and proud and ready to pull the plastic back in one, full continuous, perfect, rollback. Which is exactly the moment when the g*ddamn motherf*cking b*stard thing disintegrates into a million shredded pieces and I crack one of my perfectly manicured nails as I slam the entire bacon packaging carnage onto my mock marble kitchen worktop. F*CKER! If you'd like an idea of the degree of my frustration then check out the little kid in this video who has his own bacon issues to deal with.

Anyway, it's nearly February and if you're interested (although I can't imagine who's still reading this mince), I'll be spending most of the new month over on this other blog, finally trying to write about what it's like to run a marathon. If you'd like the abbreviated version then see below.

Running a marathon is frickin' hard!!!

Merry Christmas

2009-12-25T10:27:00.001Z

Dear Dave... saw this and thought of you.

Something For The Weekend 51

2009-11-05T23:59:00.004Z

Dear Dave,

How the hell are you mate? It’s certainly been a while since we spoke / drank / scrapbooked together and I trust this finds you and your lovely new wife *sigh* in good health and humour. I know I’ve been highly remiss in writing to you lately, and I could offer a bunch of inappropriate excuses such as chair-spinning (I have a chair that goes round. I like to “spin” on it. A LOT.) or cat-spooking (f*cking cat next door used to p*ss on my lawn... but no more... not since the I “tooled up” up with the “catzooka”, or “water pistol”, as the guy in the store feebly described it) but the truth is that I just got lazy.

It’s not my fault of course. It’s The Facebook, with its seductive charms and utterly riveting insights about what life’s like tending a farm or running a cake shop or carrying out a hit on the Calzone family. I’ve tried many times to break free of its whorish clutches but every time I roll off the couch with the intention of sitting upright and writing something more comprehensive, The Facebook is standing there in the doorway, dressed only in the skimpiest of home pages and flashing it’s cute little box, big enough for just a couple of sentences and a flirty semi-colon or two. Slut. Too easily I succumb to her temptations, caressing my fingers across her keyboard to deliver the quick hit she craves so badly. And then I have a nap. Or a smoke.

Anyway, all of this laziness means I haven’t managed much of the upright-sitting recently, far less the outside-venturing-to-see-if-it’s-winter yet, but here are a few cultural nuggets I can “get on your radar”, as the suits in our little company love to hear themselves say so much.

Television
Lying prone on a couch for hours on end gives you a lot of time to think of all your hopes and dreams for the future, as well as contemplate your insignificant existence in this big beautiful world. But luckily, the commercials soon end and you can get back to watching ‘FlashForward’ (why the hell is it one word with a FRICKIN’ CAPITAL LETTER IN THE MIDDLE?) and decide how many weeks you’re going to endure the awful dialogue and over-earnest acting...

Culturally Diverse Boss: “So are you trying to tell me the entire world lost consciousness for blah blah time period and caught a glimpse of their future in six months time?”
Angsty Special Agent: “Crazy as it sounds...” *cue, smell-the-fart acting* “...yeah!”

It’s a great premise and I’m really only sticking with it because the future date that everyone’s so hung up about – April 29th 2010 – is my birthday. On which date, by the way, I know exactly where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing... Orlando, Florida celebrating with Team Edge having just successfully retained the MB Cup. I know you know what THAT’S like... *sigh*... ah, Myrtle Beach.

Anyway, if you’re not caught up in the FF hype, check out '30 Rock' on Comedy Central, by far the best show on tv.

Movies
“Up”... Pixar... 3D... awesome! Says it all...

Music
I haven’t invested in much new music in the past few months but when I was in Texas recently (did I mention I went to Texas? Golf, Beer, Barbeque, Football, Cookie Crunch... fantastic!) I picked up the latest Wilco album called, curiously, “Wilco (the album)”. They’re a kind of Crowded House from Chicago and although I’ve found some of their earlier efforts, frankly, unlistenable (the rehab years?) this album’s pretty good. Here’s a sample called, curiously, “Wilco (the song)”.

Gigs
Finally Dave, the only thing you really need to know about this coming weekend is that The Signals are back and will be playing live at Behind The Wall in Falkirk on Saturday night, ploughing their own unique brand of both rock and roll. The band are in good shape – “round” is a shape, right? – and are looking forward to another epic two and a half hour show, including some previously unheard material. On a personal note, I shall be wearing a previously unseen pair of very cool Texan cowboy boots which I’m hoping will go well my denim M&S waistcoat and large sombrero from the 1980 High School trip to Tarragona. All I need now is a pair of arseless leather chaps and I’ll finally be able to add Erasure’s catchy “Oh, L’amour” to the set list. Which reminds me... can I borrow yours?

Cheers,

Edge

Shameless And Unapologetic Post...

2009-10-31T23:59:00.000Z

...backdated to last month so that 'October 2009' appears in the list of months further down the right hand side of this page. I like things neat. Sue me.

Facebook Makes You Laz...

2009-09-30T23:59:00.002+01:00

Coming soon... *sigh*... probably...

Don't Try This At Home

2009-08-17T22:38:00.004+01:00

I’ve always considered it my civic duty to teach those younger than myself about the dangers of rock ‘n roll excess; a “passing of the torch”, if you will, in a responsible and loving manner, similar to the “schooling” I received during those long heavenly summers at Neverland Ranch.

So I continue that tradition today with a lesson in stagecraft; the art of bustin' some moves and navigating safely through a powerhouse, rock ‘n roll performance without falling foul of the many electrical and mechanical pitfalls that lie in wait all over the “performance space” – or “stage” – so you can safely make it to the end of the show and retire to the green room for 12 hours of non-stop hooker groupies and crack cocaine.

To illustrate my point, I offer the following short, instructional video which some may find disturbing – not least because I really should’ve worn blue jeans with that t-shirt – and I’d caution anyone to have at least 25 years of live shows under their (increasingly widening) belt before even thinking about attempting these stage moves. Also, under instructions from my legal team, I have to point out that these moves have been copyrighted so if you’re caught attempting them without my express written permission, you’ll have a world of litigatiousness pain rainin’ down on yo ass.

So here we have The Signals performing their own catchy composition “Not Such A Lonely Place” – an homage to my many formative years spent locked in the “family playroom”, or “cellar” – at the climax of last week’s “unf*ckingbelievable” (Falkirk Herald) performance at the Grangemouth Homecoming Music Festival. The two distinctive stagecraft moves you’re looking out for are:

(i) Old Man Kicks Football Back To Youngsters In The Park™
Appearing at 2 minutes, 32 seconds into the song, the trick with this move is to execute it with what would normally be your non-kicking foot so as to exude the maximum amount of sexy old man coolness. Also, make sure you time it properly in tandem with a big crash cymbal crescendo because otherwise you end up looking like a bit of a dick.

(ii) Jumping Over An After-Eight In A Single Bound™
Always difficult to nail to the satisfaction of the East German judges, this performance-ending finalé spectacular will leave the audience with jaws agape, scarcely able to believe their watering eyes at what they’ve just witnessed. A word of warning though, if you’ve run a marathon during the preceding six months and have received the somewhat troubling medical news that your knees are “totally f*cked beyond all anatomic recognition”, you may find yourself having to shuffle to the front of the stage to say your final goodbyes, grasping for the microphone stand for support whilst flashing your beaming, honest-that-didnae-hurt-a-bit smile.

Rock on…

The Signals Live 'On Tour'

2009-08-07T07:00:00.002+01:00

Tonight, The Signals kick off a whistle-stop, two-date tour of the UK beginning with a triumphant homecoming gig in their old home town of Falkirk. Full details (and by ‘full’, read ‘the same’) of the schedule can be found here at the band’s website but here's all you need to know... other than the fact that I'll be wearing black.

Friday August 7th, Behind The Wall, Falkirk, 9:30pm

Saturday August 8th, Grangemouth Homecoming Music Festival, 1:00pm

It goes without saying that it’s gonna be a lung-bursting, pants-wetting weekend because frankly, the band are playing better than ever. But don’t just take my word for it… it’s all over the national press.

Meantime, here’s a little music interlude from a barenaked lady to celebrate today’s date.

See you out there ‘on the road’.

Top Ten Friendship Dealbreakers

2009-07-29T20:53:00.001+01:00

10. Toilet rolls ‘mounted’ with the flap down the back.

9. Milk in the cup BEFORE the tea gets poured.

8. Mushrooms on a pizza.

7. Goats cheese on a pizza.

6. Beer with “light” (lite?) on the label.

5. Male friend who says ‘yes’ to your token gesture offer of sharing your umbrella.

4. Female friend who doesn’t offer to share her umbrella because “I just straightened my hair.”

3. Girlfriend who replies to the question “What do you want for Christmas?” with “If you loved me, you’d know what I want.” No XBox for you this year then love…

2. Smoking in bed. During sex.

1. Incorrect punctuation and grammar in a text message. W. T. F. ???

Won't Get Fooled Again

2009-07-07T00:01:00.004+01:00

I’ve never watched CSI Miami – apart from these fantastic, endless Caruso one liners – but the review of tonight’s episode in the Radio Times made me laugh out loud.

CSI: Miami 9:00pm Five
You have to hand it to the Miami Dade crime lab: their detective work is painstaking. At one stage in tonight’s case they discover that the petrol that burnt their victim to death on a beach contained something called toluene. Eric is right onto it: “I’ll run a search for local stations that use toluene as a gasoline addictive,” he says.

Hmm, you think, how’s he going to do that? Answer: he types his word “toluene” into his internet search engine (hotdig.info) and it brings up a picture of the garage. Brilliant! With a search engine like that Sherlock Holmes could have typed “big dog” and saved a lot of trouble catching the hound of the Baskervilles.

Something For The Weekend - Special Edition

2009-07-04T00:27:00.001+01:00

Dear Dave,

Today is your wedding day so I’m guessing you won’t really have time this afternoon to join me in the back row of Cineworld for “Ice Age 3: Dawn Of The Dinosaurs”? It’s freakin’ 3D dude!

Oh well, I’m sure instead you’ll be an ocean of calm, quietly mulling over the vows of tender devotion and c.. c.. com.. comitm.. commytm.. promise that you wrote yourself after taking inspiration from your favourite classic literature… “And I love you too Blue House,” said Bear…

As a renowned marriage “expert” (from the Latin ‘ex’ meaning “formerly” and ‘pert’ meaning “had a girlfriend”) I feel it’s only fair that I share some of my worldly wisdom with you so that you and your new bride (not that Lyn is in any way replacing any ‘old’ bride… although clearly, the “ceremony” we attended at sunset in Myrtle Beach ‘03 means nothing to you now) have many happy years of happiness and what not together in the future.

(i) Always make her breakfast at the weekend. If the ingredients come from the far-off, mystical land of Canadia, even better. Bacon, maple syrup and pancakes (especially M&S’s raisin and maple pancakes which has the freakin’ maple ALREADY BAKED IN) are the holy trinity that hit the spot… oh yeah, right there baby…

(ii) Research gifts thoroughly. I once suggested to my Dad that he buy my Mum an electric carving knife for Christmas because “she’d like it and it would help her out a lot around the house”. I couldn’t see any down side… I mean, it’s a knife… an ELECTRIC knife that you plug in… and it literally carves all by itself… which would free up valuable minutes in her day to rustle me up a few Findus crispy pancakes. Granted, I was a lot younger at the time – 37, I think – but I couldn’t understand why my Dad spat out his tea at the suggestion and then performed a very uncomfortable-looking crossing and uncrossing of his legs manoeuvre. Later on of course, I learned that if you’re going to give a woman something electrical, make sure it’s a gift that brings HER pleasure and can’t be used to cut your bollocks off. A microwave perhaps…

So there you have it Dave, display your prominence in the kitchen (*sighs*.. oh Myrtle Beach...) and get her stuff she actually likes... the only two things you have to remember for a long and fruitful marriage. Although now that I think about it, there might have been one other thing about a toilet seat but honestly, who really gives a crap whether it’s up or down.

It only remains for me to tell you that I’ve splashed out on a new outfit for your wedding reception this evening (and by ‘outfit’ I mean of course, socks and a tie… would they be sufficient on their own I wonder?) and I’m more than a little excited at the prospect of a buffet consisting of.. OMG.. stovies and bacon rolls. Awesome! Looking forward to seeing you later and I hope you both have a wonderful day. Oh, and remember to thank the bridesmaids in your speech… I think that’s traditional if they managed to ‘look after’ your fiancé on her hen night... Pimms, PJs, pillow fights… *sighs*.. oh Myrtle Beach…

Cheers,

Edge

Something For The Weekend 50

2009-06-05T20:02:00.003+01:00

OMG, OMG, OMG… Dave, it’s finally here… your big stag weekend antiquing in the Lake District with all the boys. If I can stop my excited (and perfectly moisturised) hands clapping together furiously for just a second, I’ll tell you how giddy I feel at the prosp… huh?... what was that?... we’re NOT now “going down south” and instead will be eating and drinking in Edinburgh tomorrow night until we blow chunks? *Hummpphh* Well okay then, but don’t expect me to wear the white Paul Smith jacket ‘cause some of those other boys are such uncouth ruffians and have no appreciation for quality silk tailoring so I don’t want it to end up with any stains in case I need to wear it again up the country park later in the week.

Anyhoo… there’s not much happening elsewhere at the moment as my life is full of golf, golf and more golf. (Although for the first time ever, I soaked some crumpets in egg this morning and fried them up real nice for an unforgettable breakfast experience.) In fact I played so much golf last week that I ended up winning a big shiny trophy on Sunday afternoon. Nice isn’t it? Takes a lot of polishing though so let me know if you’d like to help me out with that sometime.

In terms of cultural recommendations, I don’t have a lot to direct your attention towards since I’ve not really watched much television lately or listened to any music and I haven’t been to the movies since Star Trek. However, I’m enjoying Talk Sport on the radio as I drive to and from work and on Sunday evening I will be going to the theatre in Glasgow (that’s right, Glasgow has theatres) to see master illusionist and international man of mystery, Derren Brown. Let’s just hope I don’t get forced to go on stage and end up being hypnotised into thinking I’m some kind of middle-aged loser who has to spend every weekend alphabetising his soup tins because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Because that would be awful.

Sooooo… I’m very much looking forward to catching up with you and the boys tomorrow evening but if I don’t appear to be at my most jovial, it’s because I’m a bit concerned about some of the news emerging from the Middle East at the moment. I know President Obama was there this week rolling out his new “We're Good Guys, Honest” charm offensive but I see trouble brewing on the horizon following the news that authorities in Dubai have refused to broadcast The Flintstones on television. A spokesman is claiming that people in Dubai won’t understand the humour, despite the fact that those in Abu Dhabi do. Arabia, eh… such a complicated and multi-faceted set of religious and sociological predicaments to resolve.

And on that cheery note, have a great weekend.

Cheers, Edge

Something For The Wee... Not Really

2009-05-29T05:47:00.001+01:00

Sorry Dave… I got nothing for you today ‘cause I’m crazy busy playing golf at the moment (five days in a row this week) and can’t even find a minute to catch up with all the episodes of ‘Loose Women’ I’ve recorded. Got a similar schedule next week but will definitely be striving to restore normal service for you on Friday before the first of your many forthcoming big weekends.

You’d think I’d be able to sleep better with all this exercise I’m getting but birdsong and bright sunlight and late night kebabs all seem to be conspiring to mess with my slumber. This morning I awoke with a start because I thought I could hear the vegetables in my fridge singing Bee Gees songs. But when I went downstairs and opened the door to check, it was just the chives talking.

Anyway, have a great weekend and catch up soon.

Cheers, Edge

Something For The Weekend 49

2009-05-15T00:01:00.000+01:00

Dear Dave,

How in the name of all that is holy and righteous with this tortured world are you doing mate? It seems like a lifetime ago since we last “broke bread” and “chewed the fat” together. If I remember rightly, it was that time in the pub when I was showing you the tender flesh of my dodgy knees and asking your advice about how best I should have them “seen to”, while all the time you were clearly suffering some ailment that made your eyes widen and caused drool to drip down your chin. Swine flu was it?

Things have calmed down a bit for me now that all the London Marathon shenanigans are over and done with (sh#t, I still haven’t updated that other blog… this weekend, I promise) and I’m well into my new regime of sitting on my fat arse with my feet up and making it fatter with tubs of “frozen yogurt”. As a result, my knees feel great.

But it’s not all ice cream-based snacking and recorded episodes of “Loose Women”. The golf season is now in full swing (brrrummm, pummm, kscchhh), lambs are hopping around in the fields and all the boys are looking forward to your wedding day in early July to find out if you plumped for the pink silk cravat rather than your Russell Crowe Gladiator outfit. Personally, I hope it’s the latter so that when the minister asks if anyone has any objection to your blessed union, I can yell, "Damn right, unleash hell!"

You’re probably in the midst of a lot of wedding decisions at the moment but if you manage to find some time in between organising your antiquing stag weekend in the Lake District, here’s some brief cultural stuff I’ve encountered recently that might be of interest.

Music
I’m really enjoying the new Doves album ‘Kingdom Of Rust’. Good songs, well written and performed. Pretty much all I’m looking for in a record really.

In contrast, I’m having a hard time with those Fleetfoxes boys despite the enthusiastic recommendation of our mutual friend Blousie. He told me their music was “a rich warm tapestry of soaring melodies and vocal harmonies that will bring joy to the soul and help end global poverty by making all the planet’s children hold hands and stick daffodils, or similar bulb-based foliage, down the barrels of the guns of all the warmongers of the world”. But to me they sound a lot like those chanting monks from a few years back and I had to turn it off when I thought they were going to break into the theme tune from Bagpuss. An acquired taste, no doubt.

Gigs
I know you’ll be getting very excited about your excursion to see Take That in Glasgow next month (tickets due in very soon) but the big gig before then is the chance to see Central Scotland’s premier music combo, The Signals, at Firkins bar in Falkirk next Thursday, May 21st. This will be a laid back, unplugged-type gig compared to more recent frantic rockin’ shows so look out your best Shetland jumper and open-toed sandles (NO socks! Please!) in case the band throw in their famous “heedrum-hoedrum-hey-nonny-nonny” folk stylings segment.

Movies
Last weekend I went to see “Star Trek”, the new Star Trek movie, and thought it was very good without being entirely blown away by too many jaw-dropping, ‘wow’ moments. The action was impressive and Simon Pegg’s Scottish accent was passable but as you well know Dave, when you embroil your plot with too many “who the f#ck’s messing with the space time continuum?” twists and turns, you’re asking for trouble. Made my brain hurt. Thankfully the lovely Uhura soothed it somewhat… she certainly had her phasers set to..*ahem*.. stun(ning)… brrrummm, pummm, kscchhh…

Televison
“Flight of The Conchords”: Find it on BBC4 and discover for yourself the joys of surreal New Zealand comedy and Allan Hendry Band-type musical genius. It’s eebsolutely feenteestic.

Anyway Dave, I hope you’re well and not stressing too much about the wedding. Come the big day, as long as you’re on time, calm, rested, sanitised, deoderised, moisturised, charming, funny, articulate, and remember everyone’s names, especially your bride’s… ‘ole whatsername… you’ll be absolutely fine.

Catch up soon.

Cheers, Edge

P.S. Will I need my Paul Smith dinner suit and matching man bag in the Lake District?

Play...

2009-04-30T23:59:00.000+01:00

This blog is back baby… or at least it will be next month… round about the 15th… probably…

Pause...

2009-03-31T21:51:00.002+01:00

In case you hadn’t guessed, this blog is on hold just now because at the moment I am spending all my time doing one of three things…

1. Trying to get this other blog up to date about the experience of training to run the London Marathon.

2. Sleeping in fits and starts because of all the agonising pain from training to run the London Marathon.

3. Wondering WHAT THE F#CK I was thinking trying to run the London Marathon.

The London Marathon is on Sunday April 26th so once it’s all over I will return here to do one of two things…

1. Tell you all about it and then never speak of it again.

2. Invade the internet in spiritual form to check whether my wee brother has posted the obituary I’m just about to write about myself should the London Marathon not have positive consequences for my health.

And on that cheery note, why not sponsor me for the marathon now rather than risk eternal haunting in the future. Many thanks.

www.justgiving.com/neilsutherland

Something For The Weekend 48

2009-02-20T00:13:00.001Z

Dear Dave,

How are you mate? I’m really sorry it’s been a while since I last wrote, especially as I suspect that you and I are probably the last remaining people still reading this website. In fact you’ve probably been nipping out of the office to the local internet café every half hour or so recently, frantic with breathless anticipation in the hope that I’ve written something sparkly and new about/for you, haven’t you?... Dave?... Hello?... You there?... DAVE?

Of course I haven’t just been sitting around watching television and smearing myself with butterscotch Angel Delight (not during the week anyway), what with all the marathon training and the writing about the marathon training to fit into my busy schedule. And this week I had a two-day trip to London “on business” to meet our new “colleagues”, which was less of a jump-enthusiastically-on-plane-for-wee-jolly excursion and more of a get-sucked-in-by-Death-Star-tractor-beam experience.

I flew to London City “airport” with Air France, who appear to have commissioned the Memphis Belle back into service so that your flying experience has the loudest possible propeller engine noises and you can reach out the window and touch the top of Canary Wharf as it makes its final sharp turn before commencing a bombing run towards the “runway” in the middle of the bloody Thames. This also meant that the in-flight magazine was written in a strange, Elvish-looking language that I didn’t understand so I couldn’t find out what movies weren’t being shown or what menus wouldn’t be served up. C’est la vie, eh? At least I got taken out to a very fancy French restaurant yesterday for a slap up lunch, ‘Pret-A-Manager’ I think it was called. It was lovely, so much choice!

Anyway Dave, culture-wise there are only two things I want to get on your radar for a sanity check this week to see if they pass the initial sniff test before going through the constraint analysis blender. (The Death Star has a LOT of f#cking management consultants wandering about in white stormtrooper uniforms.)

1. Bruce Springsteen – ‘Working On A Dream’
Although this new album is not quite as memorable as ‘Magic’, its perfectly named predecessor from a couple of years ago, it’s still pretty damn good. So good in fact that after I’d listened to it a couple of times, I went down the Amazon and ordered another five of his back catalogue to enhance my collection. He really is the consummate songwriter. And slamming his ‘Little Boss’ into the television screens of millions of viewers during the Superbowl half-time show was pretty cool too.

2. The Signals, Live in Falkirk, Friday February 27th
Now Dave, don’t be giving me any “aw Edge man, I’ve got wedding stuff to sort out like” excuses because a week today, Falkirk’s premier rock legends will be rocking it Boss-style at Behind The Wall in Falkirk. Tell your friends and then tell both of them to tell all their friends about this unmissable musical experience. It’s not to be missed. And if you’re really lucky, we may bust a few crotch moves for you during the show as well.

Have a great weekend.

Cheers, Edge

Dear Insert Your Name Here

2009-01-30T00:01:00.000Z

Wow, I really don’t write much on this blog anymore, do I? When I joked last time about my “regular bi-monthly updates”, I didn’t think that would actually turn out to be true. And sure, I promised to give a full account of the Soup Tins Alphabetisation project but honestly, I haven’t had time to complete it yet so for all I know the kitchen cupboard could be full of tins with labels pointing the wrong way and Tomato sitting TO THE LEFT of Lentil and.. and.. and.. f#ck.. chest.. pain.. need.. paper.. bag.. blow.. in..

Sorry about that... little ‘episode’ there... I know, I know… you’re sitting shaking your head and wondering what the hell I was thinking leaving such a crucial assignment unattended and incomplete and don’t I know that’s a visit to the emergency room waiting to happen? I’m all better now after strapping on the oxygen mask and visiting the kitchen to sort things out. Rest assured the Tomato/Lentil carnage has been rectified. But don’t get me started on the trouble I had with the Ham & Pea.

Anyway, to either of my readers who think I’ve just been idle these past four weeks let me say this in the strongest and most unequivocal terms I can muster… I have not been idle these past four weeks. In fact I have done more writing elsewhere these past four weeks than I have here for the past four months. In case you missed it – or haven’t yet received an annoying email from me begging for money – I’ve been writing on a new blog called

www.neilrunstheblog.blogspot.com

to document my experience of training for the Flora London Marathon in April this year. Go on, check it out, there’s tons of stuff there. But that, plus the actual training, is going to be keeping me quite busy for the next three months.

However, here’s a little idea that might get me writing here more often if I get some help from you. Not you, Wendi in TX, who’s idea this really is, but you, the other reader who’s probably here today thinking, “Right, I’m gonna give him one more chance but if he hasn’t provided that soup tins update, I’m off to find someone who blogs about their cat.”

Wendi got in touch with me recently asking, “How come that foppish Dave gets all your attention and you never start one of your posts ‘Dear Wendi’? If you ever do, then I’ll totally dump my Scouser boyfriend and fly out to Scotland in a heartbeat to visit you, despite these challenging economic times and the hassle of making emergency childcare arrangements.” Those might not have been her exact words but I was reading between, behind and underneath the lines so I knew what she really meant.

I often find it much easier to write here if I think of it as writing a letter to someone specific – as I do for Dave now and again – rather than just launching into a generic “you’ll never guess what my cat did this week” or “I’m so angry / happy / frustrated / glad / outraged about the whole Gaza situation - such a great footballer in the 90s” or “why oh why won’t women turn into pizzas after sex?”

So if you’d like me to ‘write you a letter’ just drop me a line or a comment to let me know (along with your name and at least a couple of details about yourself if we’ve never met) and we’ll see what we can come up with. I’m not promising a fast turnaround (because that always makes me dizzy) but with any luck the result will hopefully be a little bit me, a little bit you… as The Monkees would say.

The One With The London Marathon

2009-01-12T05:12:00.000Z

Regular readers of this website may remember that last year, my youngest siblings – adorable twinnies Rona & Keith – ran the London and Chicago marathons respectively to raise money for Autism research (Rona’s beautiful wee son Tommy, pictured right, was diagnosed as autistic in 2007) and in doing so, selfishly left me as the only Sutherland child not to have achieved such a feat; my other brother Stuart ran the Glasgow marathon in the 1980s in some ridiculous time of an hour and a half. Or something.

Incredibly, and much to my eternal surprise, their efforts have inspired me to get off the couch, quit smoking, join a gym, give up drinking and do my bit to regain my rightful place as Sutherland ‘golden child’… um.. I mean help the National Autistic Society (NAS) who’ve been a wonderful source of support and guidance to Rona and her husband Al since Tommy’s diagnosis. Accordingly, I have started “training” and will be “running” the London Marathon on April 26th this year after securing a place in support of the NAS.

To give me support on the day Rona will also be running once again (she knows the route and the short cuts) and together we’ve pledged to raise as much money as we can for this fantastic charity.

I’m getting some corporate sponsorship from my company and I’m hoping to organise a big fundraising gig with The Signals during March but every donation counts, no matter how big or small. So before I start annoying you with emails later in the week (and you know that I will), why not get in early and sponsor me online now at…

www.justgiving.com/neilsutherland

Any support you can offer will be very much appreciated. If you are an available, supple, unrelated female, let’s talk about how my personal appreciation may manifest itself. The larger your donation… ;)

In return for your anticipated kindness and generosity, I have a little gift for you in the form of a BRAND NEW BLOG, in case you’d like to keep up with how my “training” is going. The site itself is still undergoing a little “construction” work (check out the complete dogs breakfast I made of the header) but the powers-that-be at neilwritestheworld want to press ahead with the launch so you can now find it open for business at…

www.neilrunstheblog.blogspot.com

Rest assured, I will still be maintaining my regular bi-monthly updates of this site so you’ll not miss a single solitary second of the action when I perform my annual alphabetisation of soup tins in the kitchen cupboard at the end of January, followed by my top ten list of 2008 naps which will be unveiled around the time of the Oscars in February. A full-on schedule, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Thank you for reading this far down and have a great week.

Neil x

Something For The Weekend 47

2009-01-09T00:01:00.002Z

Dear Dave,

Happy New Year!

How are you mate? Gettin’ a bit chirpy and excitable at the prospect of seein’ me in the pub next Friday and givin’ me that New Year.. um.. ‘handshake’? Yeah, me too. It’s been a funny old start to the year in as much as I seem to be in a fairly good mood most of the time – compared to last January’s bitchin’ and moanin’ – but I guess we’ll see how long that lasts once our company is taken over and we all get thrown into the Don’t-Bother-Writin’-A-CV Death Cage and have to do some ultimate fightin’ to see who gets whatever jobs are left over. I’ve bought a new leotard in preparation. A nice purple one.

Culture-wise, I don’t have much to direct your attention to this weekend as I’m currently embroiled in two projects (three if you count the ice-cream eatin’; actually, four if you count my ongoin’ search for all the ‘g’s I seem to be droppin’) which are takin’ up a lot of my time. I’ll tell you more about one of them if you pass this way again on Monday because I’m going (hey, found ‘em!) to be doing a lot of work on it this weekend. Can’t say too much just now other than it involves a brand new blog (in addition to, not instead of, this one – let’s see how long THAT lasts) as well as multiple opportunities to see me in the absolute minimum of clothing… a bit like that heavenly week we spent in Myrtle Beach… but without all the face-stroking. Please?

The second project is music-related but surprisingly, is nothing to do with The Signals, Falkirk’s greatest ever pub rock ‘n roll band.

[Breaking News… STOP… The Signals to play Behind The Wall, Melville Street, Falkirk… STOP… Friday February 27th… STOP… Don’t miss it… STOP… More details to follow… STOP… OUT]

Before I joined The Signals in *cough* 1983, I was honoured to play a small role in the entourage of excess that was the AHB (Allan Hendry Band). We churned out a dozen or so albums in the heady, decadent 1980s, most of which are currently being digitally ‘re-mastered’, and last weekend we had a small reunion and demo session in preparation for our 2009 comeback crusade. If you’d like to view a short video showing what middle-aged men – armed with only a musical dream and access to a dressing-up box – get up to on a Saturday afternoon, please click on all these nice red words that are underlined and then scroll down a bit. You won’t be disappointed.

So that’s all from me just now Dave. Have a very pleasant weekend and looking forward to catching up with you next week.

Cheers, Edge

'Twas The Whatsit Before Thingumy...

2008-12-24T15:33:00.002Z

Many thanks to all who answered the call last week and overwhelmed my mailbox clutching sweaty, hand-typed submissions for this website, eyebrows raised eagerly to the ceiling hoping they’d be picked first for the football team and not left twiddling thumbs and staring down at their black, elasticated gym shoes, stained with sherbet dip from the lucky bag they got for their birthday from their granny. (Christ, I need a cigarette; 7 weeks now.)

Obviously, we’ve now moved into Phase 2 – “Clean & Correction” – of the ten phase selection process where submissions will be made presentable for the panel of esteemed judges; those of you think a semi-colon is some kind of wanton punctuation-floozie which can be tarted around liberally without a moral thought for relevance or appropriateness need to have a long hard look at yourself. Mind you, I will just give a quick “wink” to the submittee who relayed a fascinating and descriptive account of a 4am – 5am encounter pinpointing it a “highlight of the year”. I concur and so I think it’s safe to say you’re a shoe-in… ;)

Elsewhere… well, it’s 3:30pm on Christmas Eve and I’m still working, albeit from home. This is the first time I’ve had all the proper “connectivity” to work “properly” from home and it’s fantastic – you just get so much more done at your own pace. So far today, I’ve done a wee bit of ironing, been for a “jog”, watched last night’s Christmas episode of “Lead Balloon” and eaten some left over pizza. And working from home means I can wander round the place half-naked, scratching my balls whenever I want without fear of disdain and reprimand from my work colleagues, like what I usually endure when I carry out those activities in the office.

As usual, I left all my Christmas shopping to the last minute but thankfully our family have a wonderful Secret Santa arrangement which means we don’t spend stupid amounts of money on things we don’t need and concentrate instead on getting gifts for the young children (allowing me to spend many enjoyable hours in the Early Learning Centre) and arranging one main gift for whichever “adult” we get in the Secret Santa draw. This year, I’ve even crafted part of the gift myself and without giving too much away, I’m sure my sister will love the hand-made ironing board I created out of old lightsabers and MDF. (Girls like ironing, right?)

Anyway, I think this will be the last submission here for 2008 so I hope you all have a very happy *insert politically-correct holiday descriptor here* and come back and visit in 2009 when I’ll have some news for you.

Part Time Seasonal Vacancies

2008-12-19T04:55:00.002Z

I have stuff I’ve been meaning to tell you but I’ve honestly had no time to scratch my arse in the last two weeks, never mind write something and then check it forty-eight times for spelling, grammar and punctuation. (48’s the law, right?) So, in the spirit of seasonal somethingorother, how would you like to create something for this site? Be a guest writer/columnist? It can be about anything you want, be any length you want, include pictures or photos if you want and get this… it doesn’t even have to have anything about me in it, although obviously any which describe me as an expert sibling / co-worker / eater / singer / athlete / lover may receive special attention together with some kind of coupon arrangement… for an hour of “Neil-love” perhaps. I know you’re probably very busy too but if you have something to submit, you can find my email address through the ‘View My Complete Profile’ link on the right hand side of this page. And hurry, I’m obviously too busy to create fresh paragraphs and therefore in dire need of assistance.

Happy (40th) Birthday Rona & Keith

2008-12-07T11:35:00.001Z

Today is the 40th birthday of my wee sister and Rona and my wee brother Keith. They’re twins. Cute huh? At least I think they’re 40. Could be my Whatshisnames Disease is taking a turn for the worst because the last time I saw Rona’s little son Tommy during the summer he very firmly but politely informed me that his mummy is only 29 years old.

Today, Keith is celebrating across the ocean in Dallas Texas, far away from the clumsy reach of the UK postal service so fingers crossed that the brand new set of expensive golf clubs I bought for him manage to find their way there in one piece. Rona is home in Scotland for a few days and was out in Edinburgh last night so I’m just about to go through there and scrape her off Princes Street before taking her to visit her parents in darkest Fife. I really hope she like the Barbie Diamond Castle and Flying Horse I got her.

If you’d like to read about my first joyous and emotional encounter with The Twinnies, you can click on all these red words that are underlined and jump back a few blog years for the full story.

On a related matter, I’m sure like me you often spend many a long winter’s evening pondering exactly what kind of algorithm Facebook use to constantly refresh and display six of your ‘friends’ down the left hand side of your home page. For instance, why oh why do some people seem to be there all the time whilst others never make an appearance at all?

There’s a particular sequence of ‘friends’ for which I’m always on the lookout and will only speak about if it ever occurs (maybe) but until then, here’s what I saw earlier today when I logged on to spread some birthday cheer… all three of my siblings together in the one collection! What are the odds of that happening today of all days? It’s not like I have so much time on my hands that I constantly sit at home and hit the ‘refresh’ button for hours on end... honest.

Something For The Weekend 46

2008-12-05T00:05:00.001Z

Dave,

How’s it going mate? Was good to see you and catch up last week at the football although to be frank, I really didn’t get the opportunity to do much of either, what with you having to chase me round the place and eat my dust as I powered through the evening utilising bionic body parts I never knew I had… lungs, I think they’re called.

I had lots of things of a cultural nature to point your unfeasibly tiny head towards this weekend. For example, how f#cking good is the BBC’s ‘History of Scotland’ at the moment? Lots of lovely eye-candy for the ladies and your good self in the shape of hunky archaeologist presenter Neil Oliver and a Planet-Earth-meets-Lord-of-The-Rings-style narrative experience which makes our country look absolutely awesome. Worth every penny of the licence fee alone.

But to be honest mate, you’ve caught me at a bad time and I’m just way too angry and aggressive at the moment to articulate the arts and sciences to you in a fashion that both educates and illuminates and makes you ever-so-slightly pee your panties in excitement. It’s a bit like that time we were in Myrtle Beach and you started throwing your golf clubs around in a hissy fit because the beer girl was, quote “not fit or tanned enough to be riding round in a cart selling alcohol to the likes of me” which climaxed with you thrashing about on the green in a toddlers tantrum, big red face bursting with tears and snot when you didn’t get your way. Disgraceful.

Apart from working some long hours just now, my main reason for wanting to punch the face of the first person every morning who says to me in some shrill, chirpy, high-pitched f#cking voice, “So how’s the non-smoking going then, Neily boy?” is the fact that the much anticipated, triumphant homecoming, 25th anniversary, Christmas gig by Falkirk rock legends The Signals is not now going ahead on Sunday December 21st. I realise that for many people out there this renders Christmas completely pointless but – as many a Project Manager likes to say to explain away the fact that something has seriously f#cked up – “we are where we are” so let’s keep warm by huddling round the fatuous ‘reality’ f#cking television and make the best of it.

Talking of keeping warm, how about those geniuses at the Institute for Weather & Guaranteed Lottery Number Prediction who issued the ‘severe weather warning’ for central Scotland on Wednesday? I obviously neglected to read the small print where it no doubt stated something like “going to be severely f#cking mild for this time of year”. Nice one professors.

Anyway Dave, I know you’ll have a relaxing weekend since your Christmas shopping is now complete after I sold you the things we’ll never talk about in public. Ever. Me? I might go out and buy a cat so I have something to kick when I get in from work each night next week… either that or I’ll buy the double issue special edition of the Radio Times on Saturday, let my hair down and party like crazy with a set of highlighter pens arranged neatly in rainbow spectrum-order and a long cool glass of milk. Rock ‘n roll eh?

Cheers, Edge

Free* Coldplay Ticket

2008-11-29T06:58:00.001Z

I’ve just realised I have a spare ticket to go and see Coldplay at the SECC (short for ‘Big F#ckoff Cattle Shed’) in Glasgow on Tuesday December 9th. It’s a seated ticket in the front row of the section directly opposite the stage so ideal for someone who, like me, will have had a long hard day at work and really can’t be arsed standing for two hours, no matter how foot-tappin’ the music. Let me know if you’re interested.

*Free if you’re female, hot, open-minded, unrelated to me and very very bendy.

Happy Thanksgiving...

2008-11-27T06:00:00.001Z

…to everyone I know across the ocean who’s celebrating today. Much to my disappointment, I’ve never been across there in the colonies with you at this time of year so when you’re all sitting round the table later reading out your things-I’m-thankful-for lists, remember and add “Thank God Neil isn’t here in his Joey pants eating us out of house and home” ‘cause you know I SO would.

Me? If I had more time and energy I'd give you a long list but for now, let's just say I’m thankful your country created Dana Scully as well exciting movie trailers like this one right here. Live long and prosper.

Plug In There, Comes Out Here

2008-11-15T10:33:00.000Z

Isn’t the internet great? Not only can you buy lots of cool stuff and keep in touch with all your “friends”, but you can also watch videos of monkeys sticking fingers up their bums, sniffing them and then keeling over. Hilarious!

Talking of which, a mere 12 hours or so after The Signals walked (shuffled? moseyed? ran to the waiting limos?) off stage at last night’s charity gig, I now bring you a little taste of what you missed if you weren’t one of the many ‘young people’ who packed the hall, jaws agape at the sight of four old men in a band.

As you’ll see from the no-expense-spared title sequence, this is a rockin’ cover version of Stereophonics ‘Local Boy In A Photograph’ but watch for the bit in the middle where we also perform our much-copied but never matched, horizontal levitation manoeuvre. There’s not many bands who can multi task to that degree, I can tell you. And many thanks to Michelle for filming in a manner much more professional than was achieved by last year’s f#ckwits.

Enjoy.

Oh, and keep Sunday December 21st free in your diaries…

A Wee Reminder...

2008-11-14T07:14:00.003Z

…that The Signals will be leaving their assisted living communities later today and will be live on stage in the flesh this evening at a venue near you as long as you’re in the vicinity of the North Broomage Social Club in Larbert, near Falkirk, half way between Edinburgh and Glasgow, in Scotland. As a wee a taster, I can reveal that the all-new, 2008 version of this rockin’ blues number will feature in the set, together with some other songs… and perhaps some juggling… and a topless drummer.

So ditch any plans you might have to go and see the new James Bond movie tonight (it’ll be out on dvd by Christmas anyway) because I went to see it on Wednesday and, other than the hot babe, the only holy-f#ck-jump-out-of-my-seat moment was when this adrenaline-fuelled ad was shown beforehand. I really don't do heights...

Have a pleasant weekend. Doing anything nice?

Don't You Forget About Me...

2008-11-10T00:30:00.001Z

Until I finish sorting through (and then filing in strict alphabetical order) the huge pile of suggestions I’ve received from all you ladies out there as to what I might better be doing with my hands and lips since I quit smoking last week, I’ve had to keep myself busy over this first non-smoking weekend. So on Saturday I went out to get a haircut in the morning and then I spent the whole afternoon playing with myself. On a website called yearbookyourself.com.

Yearbooks were one of the many things I used to envy about life in American High Schools – spending Saturdays in the library with Molly Ringwald being the other principle one. Cameras, having not long been invented, were a bit pricey when I was at High School so I have very little photographic record of just how cool and not-at-all awkward I no doubt was during my six years there.

The premise of the website is pretty straightforward although using it was a total pain. Upload a photo, select a year from 1950 - 2000, choose a local ‘mall’ so you can be prompted with shopping suggestions while you’re going along (wtf?), shoogle the photo about a bit, hit ‘save’, type your password five bloody times, hit ‘save’ again, do the hokey-pokey, and hey bingo, you’ve got your own yearbook photos and with it, the chance you’ve always dreamt about… going to the prom with Andrew McCarthy.

Anyway, the resultant photos are shown below for your amusement together with some additional observations explaining why they freaked me out somewhat.

1964 – This is the year I was born. Having always been told that I looked like my Mum, I think this photo makes me look EXACTLY like my Dad.

1976 – This is the year I started High School. I could swear that I have that exact same haircut and polo neck in a photo from that year.

1988 – This is me during my run in the hit tv comedy ‘Family Ties’. Ho ho ho, just kidding, but all Michael J Fox references aside, turn the hair blond and this is what I probably looked like in 1988.

1994 – I’ve always been told that I resemble my sister rather than my two brothers but OMG, I think I look exactly like my brother Stuart (web genius who’s still available for all manner of freelance work) in this photo.

So hours of fun to be had by all, but one final thought for my good friend Dave... you know how you’ve spent a lifetime with the frustrating feeling that you were born into somebody else’s “skin” and are saving up your pennies to have the “procedure” to become the “person” you always wanted to be? Well, not that I tried it or anything but apparently if you want a “heads-up” on how the “procedure” might turn out, you can upload your photo into some female templates also. Selecting a completely random example at random, if you wanted to see how you’d look with some impressively mighty, backcombed 80s hair, you could so totally do that. Apparently.

Something For The Weekend 45

2008-11-07T00:01:00.003Z

Dave,

How the f#ck are you mate? Good I hope. Me? Well, it’s been 97.53 f#cking hours (approx.) since I last smoked a cigarette so if you’re expecting flowery, Jane Austen-like prose while I gaily lead you through a spring meadow of cultural events and recommendations before stripping off my corset and diving headlong into a clear blue pond to pluck you a water lily from the bottom and then emerging dripping and flushed, then you are sadly F#CKING mistaken. I am frazzled. And a bit twitchy... you lookin’ at me..? well ARE you…?

[This post is pausing here momentarily at Curseville. Passengers who’d rather not proceed on to Stereotypical Gender Abusetown, by way of Easily Offended County, please alight here. And take your ridiculously large f#cking handbags with you while you’re at it. Thank you and good day.]

Chr#st, imagine the state I’d be in if I was a woman. Who was an Air Traffic Controller. At Thanksgiving. And pre-menstrual. And only owned 23 pairs of shoes. And had to drive to the shops. Without make-up. Or a map (for all the good THAT would do). To find them SHUT! HO-LEE SH#T!

Anyway, enough already about the 97.68 f#cking hours (approx.) since I last smoked a cigarette. What can I recommend to you by way of something cultural that, fingers crossed, takes place in a non-smoking building with highly flammable (inflammable?) chemicals all around?

Music
This week your ex “room mate” Big G sent me a copy of the new Verve album “Forth”, a surprising departure from recent form as whatisface and the boys strap on their mandolins for ten folksy ballads about the famous Scottish river and all who sail/swim/drown in her. No, not really. ‘Love is Noise’ (ain’t THAT the truth) is a great song and the rest are still growing on me. If only I could make out the song titles on the rather grainy photocopied cover... *tut*

Gigs

The big one, of course, is next Friday as The Signals take part in some charity gig at some venue near Falkirk with some other bands at some time during that evening. (You’ll know more when I know more.) This is a similar event to the one you attended last year Dave when Blousie totally f#cked up the videoing, thereby failing to capture you rushing the stage in a vain attempt to remove my ‘fitted’ t-shirt. Some tickets for next week still available priced £5 if you’d like to try again?

In other concert news… actually, on second thoughts, that’s not until next year… plus I’m a little ashamed about what I did… so let’s just say that if you have a little patience, I’ll tell you after Christmas and we'll leave it at that…

Television
Very excited about the imminent return of Sky 1 to my Virgin digibox and with it, ‘Lost’ and ‘Battlestar Galactica’… Don’t tell my sister-in-law but I started watching ‘Lipstick Jungle’ and because Jack Bauer’s ex is in it, I quite like it… ‘John Adams’ continues to be brilliant on More 4 (forget the f#cking I-Player, More 4 has been unmissable throughout this election season)… and despite the lack of an appearance by Gillian Anderson, I’m enjoying the latest Charles Dickens adaptation on the BBC, ‘Scarface – The Putney Years’… “say ‘allo to ma Leetle Dorrit friend”...

Movies
Haven’t seen Bond yet… watched Indiana Jones IV again last weekend and it gets worse on every viewing… absolutely LOVED Wall-E, I tell you, don’t watch that film without some top ice cream and a serious box of tissues, ‘nuff said… but the best film I’ve seen all year with the absolute FUNNIEST FINAL SCENE IN A MOVIE EVER was ‘Burn After Reading’, the latest from the Coen Brothers. Very original and very funny. What more could you want… apart from longing for the days when you could smoke in a cinema… phhhhhhhh, aaaahhhhh… 98.03 f#cking hours (approx.) now… gotta go to my bed before I start lighting up my socks…

Cheers, Edge

Some Dates For Your Diary

2008-11-03T00:07:00.001Z

1. Friday November 14^th: The Signals – along with other bands and musical entertainment – will be playing live at the North Broomage Social Club in Larbert (near Falkirk) as part of a charity gig in aid of the CLIC Sargent charity which cares for children with cancer. Tickets cost £5.00 and are extremely sought-after because of a limit on audience capacity so if you’d like to contribute to a very worthy cause – as well as witnessing a mad scramble to see who can snog the handsomest drummer in the world – let me know and I’ll get it sorted for you. The ticket that is, not the snog… although for another tenner…

2. Tuesday November 3^rd: Election day in America. Loving all the coverage at the moment. If you want to know the result, watch season seven of ‘The West Wing’. Spooky.

3. Week commencing Monday December 8^th: Expect the result of the US Presidential election to be announced sometime this week…

4. Monday November 3^rd: Today I quit smoking. Don’t expect to be very communicative in the coming weeks. Short sentences will be the norm. Or just grunts. Because the patches go over my mouth, right? Need something else to do with my hands. And mouth. Ladies… ideas?

They Walk, They Talk, They Rock!

2008-10-23T07:34:00.002+01:00

This coming Saturday the clocks are going to be turned back and Scotland will once again be plunged into a pitch black winter abyss of eternal darkness, doom and constant p#ssing rain, closely followed by the pessimistic outlook and greetin’-faced disposition of its native citizens. (And you wonder why we have a drink problem?) Fortunately though, I appear to be completely immune to this seasonal “malaise” (from the French “ma” meaning “mother..” and “laise” meaning “..f#cker, where’s the sun gone?”) and always go about my daily business whistling a happy tune with a song in my heart, a smile for everyone and a little bluebird perched on my shoulder. In case I get hungry.

Next week I’m going to tell you more about a little project I’m about to undertake (I don’t want to reveal too much at the moment but let’s just say it involves the phrases “smoking” and “quitting”) which I’m sure will improve my already jovial temperament tenfold. But meantime, for those less fortunate than I (me?), here’s a little gift (a gift that’ll keep on giving) to help get you through the next few long, endless, dreary, tiresome, debilitating, soul destroying months.

Below is an old grainy vhs video recording (and don’t get me started on how f#cking long it took me to convert and compress this for the interweb) of The Signals, greatest pub rock ‘n roll band ever. From Falkirk. Shot at Grangemouth’s O2 Arena (formerly the Town Hall) in May of 1994, it showcases the band at their creative and physical peak, just before the pizza addictions and botched surgeries sent us spiralling downwards.

If you like this (if?), you can find some additional footage of other songs from the same gig at the band’s MySpace site by clicking all these words in red that are underlined. If you really, REALLY like this and are now reaching for fresh underwear at the thought of perhaps someday seeing us perform live in the flesh, then come back next week when I will have news of a rare concert outing taking place next month.

Meantime, kick back, relax and prepare your sensitive areas for bit of shudderin’ as you experience the full (but in no way ‘Hi-Def’) rockin’ majesty of The Signals performing ‘Ballroom of Romance’. For those of you too young to remember 1994, please note that the t-shirt-tucked-in-high-waist-jeans-fat-ass look was all the rage back then. But no, I have no idea what the hell was going on with my hair…

That's My Wee Brother, That Is

2008-10-14T07:24:00.004+01:00

Just a quick “shout out” (is that still a commonly used phrase? or is “big up” something that would get me more “down” with the kids? or should I just shut the f#ck up and go back to my pipe and slippers?) to my wee-est of wee brothers Keithy who successfully completed the Chicago Marathon on Sunday. I am very proud.

Keithy – 4:45 is a decent effort bro but I have to tell you that when I visited the Windy City in ’03, I had no trouble managing 6 and a half… and being Chicago, they were deep dish ones too! Ask Brian. I know you told me the 87 degree temperatures were a tad too hot on the day but honestly, you really need your oven fired up to about 200 minimum to produce a quality pizza experience. Maybe next year, eh?

Seriously, I know you’ve raised over five grand for a very worthy autism charity but if you can put off paying the do-gooders for a while, you could probably snap up a couple of banks over here with that and still have change for beers. Worth thinking about.

Anyway, have some relaxing time off and then get the sticks out. The preparations for Team Edge 2010 start right here

Something For The Weekend 44

2008-10-10T00:16:00.006+01:00

Dear Dave,

How are you mate? Long time no fondle, eh? Well it’s been another tumultuous week in our dizzy world of high finance market stock index thingys which came to a head on Wednesday when, after a lunchtime visit to the local biscuit factory, a colleague in the office had the barefaced temerity to suggest that I couldn’t eat 50 Toffee Pops in one day. (He doesn’t know me very well.) Tune in again at the end of November when I will execute this Cool Hand Luke-like challenge in aid of the Tiny Tims In Need charity day and in so doing, will wipe that sneery smirk off his sly coupon and on to the other side of his shoulders.

But enough of this high brow stuff. What other dumbed down cultural delights should I be pointing your handsome rugged features toward (or not) in a Kirsty “You Just Know She Would” Wark, Newsnight Review-type of way?

Cinema
So how was ‘Tropic Thunder’? I haven’t seen it yet but last weekend I dragged my sorry ass out to see ‘Star Wars – The Clone Wars’ with my two newest best friends, Jerry and Ben, and OMG was it a big pile of stinkin’ cartoon poo. Mind you, I say that but if the truth be told I fell asleep for most of it when I realised Princess Leia was not going to dance in her golden bikini around the “pole” in Jabba’s palace. Talking of which, if you haven’t gotten an engagement present for that lovely fiancé of yours yet, I’m sure THIS would go down a storm. Let me know. And take pictures.

Music (and Television) Part 1
You simply MUST tune into ‘Later with Jools Holland’ on BBC2 tonight Dave because you’re going to see a very rare appearance from one of my all time favourite songwriters, John “Don’t F#cking Call Me Cougar” Mellencamp. Thankfully, he’s finally managed to get himself a passport and leave his kibbutz in Indiana and, after being presented with a “prestigious” Q award in London earlier this week, I really hope he does THIS CLASSIC SONG, my all time rockin’ favourite. Which begs the question… why the f#ck do The Signals not cover this? Donald?

Television
I’m totally riveted by all this election fever in the States at the moment (‘The Daily Show’ and ‘The Colbert Report’ are essential nightly viewing) and was glued to the screen the other night to see just how badly that Sarah Palin woman could f#ck up the Vice Presidential debate. But to my surprise, she really didn’t (leaving to one side the rather prevalent habit of not actually answering any of the questions that were asked) so I was left somewhat deflated. Still, with four weeks to go till the election there’s plenty time yet.

But forget all that Strictly X-Factor Dancing reality p#sh that’s spewed out on a Saturday night Dave. Make your chubby wee fingers turn to Channel 4 instead where you’ll find the wonderful Paul Giamatti (remember ‘Sideways’?) playing the lead role in historical drama ‘John Adams’. I love all that ‘Down With The British, No Taxation Without Constipation, Tea Party In Boston” malarkey and, being an HBO film, it doesn’t get much better than this.

Sport
Normally I’d wax lyrical about how I’m playing golf at gorgeous Gullane tomorrow – as well as at Craigmillar this afternoon on a spare day’s holiday – but my thoughts are squarely concentrated instead on my wee-est of wee brothers, Keithy, as he gets set to run the Chicago Marathon on Sunday.

Years ago, he ran the Falkirk Half Marathon and I turned up on the route for support, armed with a bottle of Lucozade and a Mars bar in case he needed an athlete’s emergency burst of NRGGGG. As he jogged past me I broke into what could only be described as a “flat out sprint”, arms outstretched with the survival goodies but alas, I couldn’t catch him and keeled over in a wheezing mass of flab some 50 yards later. I thought at first that he might have speeded up to get away from me but realised later this was just my delirious imagination working overtime, an unfortunate result of the blood pouring out of my ears.

So Dave, since it’s not worth investing in our company’s shares anymore – currently trading at 3 Blue Smarties per share on Wall Street, a 50% fall from yesterday’s high of 6 Brown Peanut M&Ms – why not put your money instead to a very worthy cause, close to the hearts of the Sutherland clan, by visiting...

www.firstgiving.com/keithsutherland.

Music Part 2
Finally Dave, I have to tell you I really love that new album from Elbow – ‘The Seldom Seen Kid’ – and have been listening to it constantly for weeks now. I know you’re going through something of a Metallica “love-in” at the minute but put your tongue away and take time out from your leather fetish to check it out if you can. ‘One Day Like This’ (love this video) is current favourite to be my song of the year and the sentiment is spot on…

“Throw those curtains wide, one day like this a year’d see me right.”

Damn tootin’… could be today.

Cheers, Edge

P.S. A very happy birthday to my eldest nephew Joe. He’s 20 today. Here he is with two of his brothers. He’s the one on the right.

Don't Panic, Mission Accomplished

2008-10-03T07:20:00.000+01:00

Couldn’t locate the original header image for this blog so just looked out my good ‘ole green Diesel t-shirt last night and took a new, up to date photo instead... phew!

Don't Panic, It's An "Adjustment"

2008-10-01T00:01:00.001+01:00

Stock markets around the world went into freefall today when news emerged that the main header image on neilwritestheblog had “mysteriously disappeared”. Traders and speculators were reportedly “sh#tting themselves” at the prospect of such monumental change within this veritable institution and calls for a $700 billion “slush fund” to aid the crisis found widespread favour, especially among female “investors”.

“He’s a hunk of burnin’ hotness,” sobbed one inconsolable soul. “The thought of logging on and not seeing his roguish features and unkempt mullet is just too much too bear. I might as well join a nunnery. Or buy a new washing machine with a higher spin speed at least.”

Ned Suderlang, foppish CEO and Still President of neilwritestheblog was unavailable for comment but bowed to the mass hysteria by issuing a short press release denying rumours that a “magic portrait” stored in Neil’s attic had recently been destroyed in a small house fire, thereby breaking the spell of eternal youth. “It’s utter piffle,” claimed Suderlang. “And besides, Mr Lucifer promised me that the contract doesn’t come into effect until 2020. Now where did my shadow go?”

Some technical analysts went out on a limb by asserting that the catastrophe was probably caused by something straightforward – an unpaid web page bill where the header image is hosted was one mad theory – but they were quickly turned upon by a seething angry mob before being dragged to the river and drowned in a cloth sack for uttering such crazy devil-talk.

Most eyes now remain tightly shut under the covers with a pillow on top as many wonder whether we will make it to the end of the week without bums exceeding “Holy F#ck” on the Squeaky Scale™. But a loyal few are holding a candlelight vigil outside the neilwritestheblog headquarters and, after being invited inside for a “private audience and healing session”, contend that everything will be "tip top and perky again" by Friday morning. The world holds its breath and waits...

Things I Done On My Holidays

2008-09-28T23:59:00.001+01:00

I’ve been using up spare “vacation days” for the last week or so and had great plans to write something on this site every day so you could see what a full and rewarding life I lead. Mind you, I also had great plans to put the finishing décor touches to my underground bunker before the world ends in financial armageddon but it turns out that tiger cub-skin toilet covers are really hard to come by this time of year. Sh#t, I forgot to check eBay.

Anyway, succinctness (iticity?) is going to be the order of the day – what with the world’s big red digital clock counting mercilessly down – so rather than endless paragraphs of fluffy prose, here’s my update in efficient list format, without the usual bullet points and ruler-measured spacing, but utilising a clever Number Technique* instead.

10.5 – Number of days since I’ve been in the office.
1 – Number of funerals of old High School friends I attended.
5 – Ryder Cup points deficit for Europe. Congratulations to the Americans.
15 – Variety of sweet and savoury junk food on offer at Blousie’s flat during climatic Ryder Cup Singles climax.
7,000 – Number of yards I covered playing golf and football on Monday.
6 – Number of yards I could stagger in one go before falling over on Tuesday morning.
4 – Number of shots I had in my Starbucks coffee on Tuesday afternoon.
7 – Number of hours I could’ve happily spent in Starbucks on Tuesday afternoon.
11 – Amplifier level achieved at band practice on Tuesday evening.
8 – Number of crunchin’ guitar solos I attempted at band practice when lead guitarist Billy Bob Hay was laid up in bed with the flu.
0 – Number of crunchin’ guitar solos I actually pulled off.
18 – Number of question marks and exclamation points used by my sassy sister-in-law when she asked if I’d recently had a sex change after I enquired whether new US television drama ‘Lipstick Jungle’ was something I should fit into my viewing schedule between facial moisturising and volunteering at the sanctuary for abandoned kittens.
5 – Number of strokes I was over par during a highly enjoyable round of golf at beautiful Glenbervie on Wednesday.
58 – Length of putt in feet holed by good pal Gordy on the 17th green on Wednesday to beat me 3&1.
3&1 – See above.
40 – Number of putts I took to complete the World’s Hardest Putting Green™, a new addition to my local driving range.
10 – Number of times I performed the “gerritrightupye” victory dance after beating my pal Bruce on the World’s Hardest Putting Green™ on Thursday.
5 – Number of eggs used in the World’s Greatest Breakfast™ on Friday morning.
3 – Number of valued and precious old friends I went drinking with in my old home town on Friday evening.
36 – Number of minutes it took for the subject of “testicle shaving; pros and cons” to come up in conversation on Friday evening. Closely followed by “When prostate checks go bad”. Whatever happened to “cars and girls”?
2 – Number of bionic knees now owned by my mother on her release from hospital this week. I say “released” but “vaulting to the car park from a second floor window in a single bound” is probably more accurate.
37 – Number of old photos I uploaded to The Signals (and A N Other) MySpace sites.
4 – Number of times I've enjoyed delicious ice cream this week. Sweet!
24 – Number of hours I stayed in my jammies today.
9 – Number of hours till I have to be back at work. F#ck!

*©WW

Something For The Weekend 43

2008-09-19T06:54:00.003+01:00

Dear Dave,

As you well know, the only thing of any note happening this weekend that’s likely to distract our attention from the fact that our jobs are hanging by the thinnest of thin threads due to the financial markets going through something of an “adjustment” (©G Bush) is the 37th playing of The Ryder Cup. With any luck, by Sunday evening I’ll still be wearing my pyjamas (discarding them during the three days for only the most important of important “diversions”) and my living room will be a sea of pizza boxes and empty green Stella bottles as I celebrate yet another European victory over the Americans.

I don’t think I’m understating things when I say that the Americans really do deserve a beating this year. My keen analytic brain developed over a quarter of a century working in the financial world has worked out that they are squarely to blame for all this money mess after allowing some couple called Fannie and Freddie to run amok across the country, robbing banks wherever they went before making good their escape in beat-up old jalopies whilst wearing 1920s garb. Markets, financial, pulse, finger, me, what?

Anyway, my predictions for the next three days are as follows:

1. Europe will win 16-12.
2. Europe will win at least one of the sessions over the first two days by a whitewash. Or as it’s more commonly known these days, an “Edgewash”.
3. I will have a very happy weekend.

So buckle up Dave, it’s gonna be one hell of a ride. And no offence mate but…

My One And Only

2008-09-12T00:03:00.000+01:00

People often ask me (and by ‘people’ I mean 'my mother'), “Hey Neil, what the hell’s going on with you these days that you never call and tell me if you’re seeing anyone or bring anyone over to visit so I can show them your baby photos and that lovely craftwork you made out of coloured string and nails in 1976 and tell them what a catch you are and how someday you’re gonna make me so proud when you finish inventing that.. um.. whachamacallit... internet thingy you’re always telling me about?” (My mum’s not big on the whole pausing-for-breath fad.)

Reading between the lines, I think she could be enquiring as to whether there might be a special someone in my life, someone for whom she will finally have the perfect excuse to go out and buy a new hat… y’know… in case they have a cold head. Or something.

Anyway, there are two very good reasons I never write about the special person in my life on this blog.

1. I’ve always firmly believed that all that ridiculous gushy-type stuff should remain strictly private, exchanged only between the two parties concerned in a loving and tender fashion, preferably in the form of a carefully worded email or similar medium that doesn’t involve eye contact. Or talking.

2. There hasn’t been anyone to write about…

…until now that is because let me tell you dear reader, things have changed and lately I’ve felt as giddy as a spring lamb on speed, barely able to keep a widening smile off my face, even when the big boys at work taunt me about my new glasses and flush my head down the pan in the first floor toilets by the science lab. The scamps.

It all seems like such a recent whirlwind but if the truth be told, I’ve had my eye on this special someone for some time, observing her from afar (100 feet if you comply with the strict definition of the so-called “restraining order”) and wondering if I’d ever have the nerve to make the first move and tell her how I really feel.

I’m lucky enough to be able to see her every day and I can feel my breath shortening at the same time as my stomach does its little “first flush” somersault whenever I get my initial glimpse of her each morning. She’s gorgeous of course, with curved features so perfect in all the right places that I can barely restrain myself from laying hands on her at every opportunity. When I do though, she responds to my gentle touch in a series of amazingly indescribable ways which are, frankly, amazing, if not easy to describe.

She’s so thoughtful and considerate too. Last Saturday afternoon for example, she was very understanding when I got a call to go out and play a league match for my golf club but we spent almost every other minute of the weekend conversing, opening up to each other and exchanging what we want from the relationship and I was so happy when she allowed me to cradle her in my arms for most of what was a very lazy Sunday. Bliss.

But it’s not all nicey-nicey Sunday-papers-in-bed-while-the-sticky-toffee-pudding-candles-glow-in-the-corner. She’s very open-minded and is letting me try things I’ve only heard about in unsubstantiated urban legends. Not only that but she’s allowed me to VIDEO TAPE us doing these things together. And not only not only that, but she’s also perfectly happy to let me share one those VIDEO TAPES with YOU. How good is THAT?

So here you go. Watch out for the grand opening where she makes her initial appearance in the guise of a famous film we both love. And hark at the jealous, stick-thin supermodels in the background as they enviously watch our rockin' performance. Although now that I’ve found my glasses, that might just be the ironing board. Oh and remember, the camera adds 10lbs!

Cue the 20th Century Fox logo… brrrum pum, brrrum pum, brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrum pum…

September? WTF?

2008-09-09T00:28:00.000+01:00

God, where does the time go? One minute you’re on holiday with time to kill and the next you’re trying to persuade a special someone to let you put your ‘home movies’ on the internet. Fingers crossed (and otherwise) that there’ll be an update on that later in the week.

Meantime, for those of you who are still pissed off at me for making you wonder recently whether I was seriously ill, you can have a right good laugh at the photo below of me wearing my new glasses. Enjoy. While you can…

Oh that’s right, I forgot… you’ll have to find me on Facebook to see it.

Free Awesomeness.. iticity?

2008-08-29T00:03:00.000+01:00

When was the last time you got something for free? And don’t think about quoting me that “hub” website featuring all the pretty ladies that a much valued work colleague MADE ME LOOK AT, because God’s gonna make you pay someday – in her own unique mysterious way – for checking out all that type of stuff.

For now though, put your wallets and confessions away because in these tough, credit-crunch times it’s my sincere pleasure to spend my holiday week cooped up in the house avoiding the rain and working on a little project, the results of which I now offer you for free. As you can see from this photo I’ve managed to connect my late-80s “music centre” to the computer and have a begun a (potentially mammoth) endeavour of converting old vinyl and tape recordings to digital format.

The spark for this idea was the recent discovery of some long lost recordings by The Signals, greatest pub rock ‘n roll pub ever. From Falkirk. The boys and I have worked out that the two songs in question were the first demo tracks for our “difficult” and never completed third album and must have been recorded in 1988. Sh#t, that’s TWENTY years ago! Anyway, if you click on these dark red lines that are underlined, you’ll be whisked off to the band’s MySpace site where you can hear them in all their hissy, four-track, cassette-like glory and, if you so desire, DOWNLOAD THEM FOR FREE. Here’s a little background to both…

Stronger Than Love
A song about a girl (surprise!) that, unusually, I originally wrote on the piano so that my talented wee sister Rona could teach me how chords work properly. Not sure where the Cleo Laine-like “do-be-dee-doo-bop” stuff at the start came from. But I really like the bright, cutting guitar work that young virtuoso Billy Bob Hay is displaying throughout. Eat your heart out Robert Cray.

Band of Gold
A song about the greatest pub rock ‘n roll band ever (ergo, a “band of gold”) going to a regular gig haunt where one of the members – the bass player let’s say – meets a girl, falls in love and lives happily ever after*. Not sure how this song will sound on your computer/iPod but we were obviously doing a lot of experimenting with that new-fangled stereo invention at the time, with singing and guitar parts switching suddenly from one speaker to the other. Check out the Duane Eddy guest solo in the middle!

If you’re not already reaching for fresh underwear at the thought of indulging in two “new” Signals recordings, I have a bonus offer for you. Back in the 80s when I wasn’t leaping off ridiculously high amplifier stacks during Signals gigs, I often did a little recording work with a good friend who, for the purposes of this story, we’ll refer to as Mark. Because that was his name.

Mark was a prolific songwriter but preferred to have other people sing his songs when he recorded them. During my recent great vinyl and tape excavation, I discovered some of the recordings and have uploaded one called “Like There’s No Tomorrow” to my own MySpace site which you can access by clicking on these dark green words that are underlined. The harmonies are nice but I’d be obliged if you could just ignore the bits where the melody is a tad out of my range. Thanks.

I’ve a very strong suspicion that this song was heavily influenced by a hit single for a famous 80s duo but I’ll let you have a guess as to which one and will let you know my interpretation in a couple of days.

Meantime, have a great weekend and enjoy the free stuff. Remember, it’s free.

*Twenty years on, the bass player and his girlie are still happily wearing their “bands of gold”… see what I did there?

It's Not Rocket Science...

2008-08-26T22:20:00.003+01:00

Every time I log on to Blogger to paste and upload some “writing” that I’ve already documented in another application because I’m too scared to click or use any of the complicated switches, knobs and options that Blogger has to offer – stuff like “Settings” and “Template” and “Whatever You Do Don’t Touch That Big Red F#ck-Off Button” – I complete my pasting/uploading business in short order and then get the hell out of there before any kind of hey-guys-look-at-the-techno-freak alarm goes off. But today I decided to take the bull by the horns and venture to dark, mysterious places I’d never been before. Like under the sink where all the cleaning products are kept. I think.

As promised last week, I have a ton of recent photos of my nephews and niece – the World’s Four Cutest Kids™ – but rather than paste them into one long post which would have you scrolling down till Christmas, I wanted to replicate something clever I’d seen on Lesley’s site; the flickr badge.

Creating the badge was relatively easy but then flickr presented me with literally “hunners” of lines of Klingon-like technobabble and casually suggested that I “simply paste” this into my website. After much time reading some “help” files, I worked out that I would need to delve into the dreaded “Template” and paste it there.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a film from the 70s called “Juggernaut” where Richard Harris has to defuse a load of bombs on a panic-stricken ocean liner (“Fallon is the champion!” clap-clap, clap, clap, clap…) but clicking on Blogger’s “Template” was a bit like opening up one of those cataclysmic megaton destructive devices. Lots of bells, whistles, coloured wires and whirling tapes, poised to bring the entire internet to its knees should I even breath in the wrong direction.

Anyway, long story short, I somehow managed to do it (I've no idea how) and if you’ve read down this far you should now be able to see the “badge” with the cute kids – encapsulated within its own smart white bordered box I might add – on the right hand side of your screen. Get your “ooohs” and “aaahs” at the ready and click away.

The Future Is Coming

2008-08-22T08:11:00.002+01:00

Next week I am on holiday and since the f#cking rain in Scotland appears likely to continue until such times as the polar ice caps melt and we all grow gills to enable us to survive in Waterworld, I could be spending a considerable amount of time in the house, staring out the window and watching my grass grow past the six-foot mark.

However, this is good news for both readers of this website because when I’ve finished with all the window-staring, I’m going to attempt to make some changes to the underlying website “template” to drag it (kicking and screaming, no doubt) into the 21st century. I don’t want to give too much away just now but let’s just say that when you both come back to see the differences in September, make sure you’re sitting down because digital lightening bolts will fly directly out of your computer screen to stimulate every one of your six senses and byte you (see what I did there with the funny computer-related word?) on the ass.

Here’s a hint of what’s on my to-do list…

Photos: Following my recent World’s Greatest Uncle™ road trip, I have great photos of the World’s Four Cutest Kids™ which are gonna make you go “ooh” and “ahhh” and “honey, get upstairs to the bedroom NOW!”

Music: Although I know this whole iPod madness is just a big flash in the pan, I’m going to indulge the hysteria by converting a few classic vinyl and cassette recordings to some kind of digital format, “empathree” is it? This will include some long-lost and recently-discovered recordings made by The Signals for their never-completed and “difficult” third album. Get ready to “download”.

Toys: Two weeks ago I bought the greatest, electric-powered indulgence a boy could ever hope to possess. Get ready to scream with pleasure because I will share this with you next week.

Video: No longer will you have to stare longingly at that picture of me in the green t-shirt at the top of this page and wonder how much I’ve aged since it was taken in 2003. I have another toy which will confirm that I walk (if my groin ever heals) and talk, sometimes simultaneously. Get ready to cock your head to one side, sigh and say, “Aw, look at him wearing his new glasses… so cute!”

So, an exciting few days in prospect and a lot to get through and I’m looking forward to getting started. Either that or the sun will return and I’ll just go out and play golf all week.

Run Keith Run

2008-08-18T23:47:00.005+01:00

Those of you who, like me, have younger siblings who are twins will know that the first rule of being big brother/sister to twins is NEVER let the wee b##t@rds be in the same team when playing “fun for all the family” Christmas games. Twins have a strange kind of telepathy thing going on so they need to be separated – preferably with one locked in the basement – whenever someone suggests a quick round of “Taboo”, the mild-mannered, word guessing game of “unspeakable fun”.

We once played the “Famous Person” edition at Christmas and, since I’d forgotten to wear my Joey pants before eating and was distracted by the seams in my jeans straining at every turn, I neglected to notice that “the twinnies”, Rona and Keith, had wangled their evil way on to the same team. The game did not last long…

Dad: “Right Rona, it’s your turn.”
Keith: “C’mon Rona, we’re ten points ahead already. Super!”
Rona: “Okay... it’s a man... and he was once…”
Keith: “JOHN F KENNEDY!!!!”
Rona: “Correct!!!”
Neil: “Aw for f#ck’s sake… what’s the f#cking point… Christmas is sh#t… I’m f#cking outta here… someone help he up off this f#cking bean bag… who invented these f#cking things anyway… aw b#llocks, ma jeans’ve burst… who f#cking shrunk them in the wash… eh?... EH?”

Good times.

Anyway, twins can, more often than not, do good as well as evil. Sharp-eyed readers (i.e. ones, unlike me, who don’t need to wear f#cking glasses) will remember that a few months ago I wrote a thing with a similar title to this wherein I shared an email I’d received from Rona telling of her intent to run the London marathon. She achieved that impressive feat in April and now her twin Keith has decided to match her by also successfully writing an email. Here it is…

Dear Family,

As many of you know, Rona ran the London Marathon in April in a wonderful time and raised a lot of money and awareness for autism. Rona’s run inspired me to not only get fit (it inspired ME to set my alarm and get up early to WATCH the marathon on tv), but to do whatever I can to raise awareness and money for Autism research. I’ve been training for the last two months and plan to run the Chicago Marathon on October 12th.

Please support me (KEI-THY! KEI-THY! KEI… oh, you mean with my wallet?) in raising money for such a worthy cause. You can sponsor me online by visiting http://www.firstgiving.com/keithsutherland

Your support will not only get me out the front door on those early morning long runs but importantly it will give a lot of kids and their parents an important support system.

Wishing all of you the very best.

Love, Keith

At this point, I should mention that my other brother Stuart (World Class baby-maker and website genius who’s still available for all manner of freelance interweb work) ran the Glasgow marathon during the 1980s in UNDER THREE AND A HALF HOURS, although he had done a lot of sprint work, fleeing from “Maggie’s Fascist Baton-Wielding Boot Boys” during several marches for a worthy campaign… Blue Peter’s African Appeal, I think it was…

Keith - Ignoring the obvious selfish nature of leaving me as the only sibling not to have run a marathon, I wish you all the very best in October and hope the training continues to go well. Any insane thoughts I might have entertained about joining you on the run in Chicago were ended earlier this evening during five-a-side football when I ravaged a muscle in the thigh/groin area which registered as “F#ck Me, That’s F#cking Agony” when I checked the British Medical Association’s on-line Pain-O-Meter™.

So ladies, if you’re thinking of beating a path to my door this week for a little “booty call” (I knew MTV would pay for itself in the long run), bring ice packs. Lots of 'em.

To Be Clear...

2008-08-10T00:29:00.005+01:00

There was a bit in the last thing I wrote that wasn’t strictly true and has been slightly misinterpreted so I feel I should clarify matters. Amazingly, the untrue bit WASN’T the thing about going to the movies with TWO (count ‘em!) gorgeous women although you’ll have noticed I was careful not to specify whether they were human or inflatable.

No, the bit I’m referring to was the medical diagnosis which, although I still maintain came as something of a shock, is not likely to warrant a hasty revision of my will any time soon. So, for the friend who texted me enquiring about the availability of my Scalextric should I “shuffle off to a better place” I say “tough titties”! (And no, that wasn’t the diagnosis.) Mind you, maybe he meant something else? Like Disney World? Or Pizza Express?

Anyway, two Thursdays ago a so-called “medical expert” pitched up at our office building offering “free tests and advice”. I heard a rumour he’d arrived at the front door with his horse and snake oil caravan but it’d gone by the time I went outside for a cigarette/to check for myself.

Things didn’t start well when he turned out not to be the same hot chick who conducted the very same tests on me almost three years ago so I wasn’t in the best of moods to put up with his crazy smoke ‘n mirrors hocus-pocus. Twenty minutes later when he concluded his “evaluation” with an unnecessary (in my book) chicken-beheading, he shook his beaded rattle and declared that I required “a correction” for a “slightly lazy” left eye.

“Your right eye is perfect Mr Sutherland,” he wailed as the headless chicken ran into the wall, “but it’s doing some of the work for your left eye so I’m recommending a mild prescription for glasses, to be worn if your eyes start to feel tired in the afternoon.”

I just sat there dazed and open-mouthed (he’d managed to re-attach the chicken’s head) barely able to digest what he was telling me. Glasses? After forty-four and a half years of perfect 20:20 vision? Why God, WHY did this have to happen to me? And why glasses? If it’s only one eye, wouldn’t a monocle suffice? Mind you, if I got a monocle I’d also need a butler.

So many cherished hopes and plans now lie dying in the dust. As a good friend so correctly pointed out to me this week, “Well that’s your dream of flying jets at Top Gun f#cked!” And I had such a cool nickname picked out too… Jetboy!

If I’m totally honest, I’ve had my suspicions that my left eye has been a bit lazy for some time now. It’s always the last one to open in the morning and just doesn’t have the work ethic or reaction time of the right. And its attitude is questionable also. Every time a cute girl passes my window when I’m writing, the right eye snaps to attention and follows her while the left is still staring at the keyboard tryng 2 mke snse of al the lttrz thatve gawn all fzzy ‘n blrrd. (Wow, she was nice!)

Obviously, I’ve had to rethink my image makeover for 2008 which I envisage will now look like my cousin Kiefer here. But it’s not all bad news. Another friend remarked to me that glasses will “make u look clever and u can see the burdz more clearly.” I’m also looking forward to whipping them off dramatically during boring work meetings and pensively chewing the ends to indicate I’m formulating some profound argument and fully understanding what the hell they’re all talking about.

On a semi-serious note, I was quite touched that people I care about sent text messages and emails or left comments this week enquiring about my well-being so thanks very much to you all for your concern and apologies if I alarmed you in any way. And to my wee brother Keith who simply asked, “so tell me more about the cinema babes”, I like your style bro!

Still Around...

2008-08-05T07:46:00.001+01:00

…but haven’t really had the time or inclination to update you on my World’s Greatest Uncle™ trip, especially after being diagnosed with some fairly devastating medical news last Thursday. Still trying to absorb and make sense of it all. Suddenly life seems very precious. Gotta make every day count. Mind you, I went to the movies last night with TWO (count ‘em!) gorgeous women and they bought me pizza before we settled down to watch Gillian Anderson and her beautiful eyes on the big screen so life doesn’t get much better than THAT!

More later in the week…

...... hello?......

2008-07-25T08:48:00.003+01:00

...... is there somebo.. oh hi there! You haven’t been hanging around this whole time waiting for me to get back to you with news of what beard I’m gonna grow, have you? God, I’m really sorry. I’ve hardly been home recently and in about an hour’s time I’m off again, driving down south (to England, NOT Bathgate) to visit family. Obviously, I’ve re-mortgaged the house to buy the necessary diesel for the 800-mile round trip so here’s hoping that’ll be enough to get me back next week.

How are you anyway? Enjoying this pleasant summer weather? Pottering about in the gard… oh… you’d rather I stopped faffing about and just got on with it since there are literally tens of people waiting with bated breath for the outcome of the beard survey? Fair enough.

Well… it’s been a tough decision and I’ve valued all the suggestions that were put forward, especially those that showed a creative mix-and-match flair (Tommy, DC) but in the end I called up my cousin who has experience in these matters. Strangely, he didn’t seem to know who I was and mumbled something like “get off this f#cking line ‘cause I’m right in the middle of the longest goddam day of my life” and then there was some kind of explosion in the background and he just hung up. Rather rude I thought.

But no matter, time is short so here's my cousin modelling the look I’m now grooming for the rest of 2008… “ALL FOR ONE, etc...”

Market Research Consumer Survey-Type Thing 3

2008-07-11T00:04:00.002+01:00

Long term readers of this website may recall that on occasion (here and here for example) I like to garner your valued opinion about certain things so that I can alter my lifestyle accordingly to be more fulfilled / interesting / like you. Some may speculate that this is just a less-than-subtle way of finding out if anyone actually still reads this stuff and also to compensate for my severe shortcomings in areas such as ‘hit counters’, ‘pings’, ‘twitters’, RSS feeds, cookies and all that other mind-boggling interweb stuff. To those people I say simply, “let them eat cake”. (Or should that just be “eat cake” since I appear to be addressing them directly without the assistance of a third party intermediary?)

Anyway, here’s your chance to…

a) tell me that you’re still out there AND

b) play a crucial and influential role in how my life will unfold and shape up for the rest of 2008. And by “unfold and shape up”, I mean, of course, “score big with the ladies”.

Your task is this. For a while now (13 or so years) I’ve sported longish hair (and yes, as you can see from the photo at the top of the page, it has sometimes wavered on the edge of mulletdom... what of it? Eh? EH?) together with a trim but increasingly greying goatee beard.

However, this summer after careful consideration (i.e. I got drunk one night and agreed with a work colleague who suggested “it might be a good idea”) I’ve had my hair cut to its shortest length since 1974 and I’ve shaved off my beard. But I’m really, REALLY missing my facial hair and I’m THIS CLOSE to growing it back again and I might go for something different so I’d like your help in choosing the look that will “score big etc. etc.”

Now don’t scroll down too quickly because all you have to do is peruse the five options below - WHOA THERE… I said DON’T scroll down yet! - and leave a little comment as to which you think might net the desired results. To minimise the amount of effort required on your part, they’re all numbered so you can simply leave the requisite number as a comment. As always, any additional feedback you care to offer will be very gratefully received. And then probably ignored... NO, just kidding!

I’m going to be busy next week so won’t be posting anything else here for ten days or so (who said ‘what’s new’?) to give you time to make a considered choice. The option with most votes will obviously win and if that happens to agree with my current favourite, then a prize may be forthcoming.

Right then…

Are you ready…???

Sure…???

Okay, scroll away…

Something For The Weekend 42

2008-07-04T00:01:00.001+01:00

Dave,

I know you’re heading off with your “fiancé” on your holibags tomorrow (or is it today?) so here’s just a brief(ish) summary of three things I’ve been up to culture-wise recently in case you get a bit bored talking about wedding preparations or china patterns or the whole valance-versus-voile debate and want to come home and go out drinking and bullsh#ting with me.

Sports
Some people would say that “sports” is nothing to do with culture. To those people I’d smile smugly, dive into my extensive vocabulary, summon up my best debating club posture and say, “…well I think you’re really stupid too, so there…” and then we’d agree that I was right and move on with our lives. As you well know Dave, this weekend sees the 19th annual running of the Training Centre Golf Outing (sponsored by Tacky Productions Inc. – a subsidiary of Tacky Worldwide Inc.) and as a former winner you must be devastated at missing out because instead, you’ve chosen a fortnight of “you WILL wear a pink cravat on the day David” and “we can’t have her sitting next to him” and “NO, I won’t do it THAT way just because we’re getting married.”

You’ll be sadly missed by all the boys, although to be honest, your recent Red Bull-fuelled, club-throwing tantrums were getting to be a bit wearing and exposing your extra nipple every five minutes was leaving some of the lads feeling sadly inadequate. I’m sure wherever you go on holiday though you'll be logging on to THE GREATEST WEBSITE IN THE WORLD to get all the latest news about who won, who threw it away and who went back to Inverkeithing with some trollop from the pub. If there were more readers here than just you and me Dave, (I think I might do a wee test next week to find out) they too could get involved by reading all the “hilarious” stories from past years, viewing dodgy photographs of ridiculous haircuts and red cardigans (WTF?) and even placing on-line bets on all their favourite golfers. An interweb experience like no other.

Television
In celebration of Independence Day across the Atlantic in the colonies, I’ll tell you that my current favourite American television outputage is ‘The Daily Show’ on More 4 and ‘The Colbert Report’ on FX. Funny, clever, smart, informed and insightful are just some of the adjectives I use to describe myself for watching these programmes and, if you ever manage to regain command of the remote control – a long shot I know - you should definitely check them out.

Literature
I’ve just started reading another novel by Scottish author Christopher Brookmyre (thank you Russell) called “One Fine Day In The Middle Of The Night” which appealed to me instantly because of the synopsis on the back…

“…the touching story of what unfolds when the former pupils of an ordinary Glasgow high school are reunited after fifteen long years; reminiscence, reconciliation, old secrets, rekindled passions, joy, laughter, hijackers, murder, vengeance, machine guns, rocket-launchers… that sort of thing.”

I’m not saying it’s exactly the same as the high school reunion I attended back in 2002 (we had grenades instead of rocket-launchers) but it was enough to hook me from the word go. In truth, I’ve only reached page 70 so am still getting introduced to all the characters but one section in particular made me sit up and shout out “Holy Sh#t, that’s ME!” when I read it the other night.

One of the former pupils, a wise-cracking smart arse when he was in school, is now enjoying a healthy relationship with a girl he idolised fifteen years previously, the two of them having “found each other” after leading very separate post-school lives. He’s recently discovered that she’s pregnant and this passage describes the surprisingly positive things that went through his brain when he first found out. Ladies, expect this if I ever knock you up…

“Responsibility suddenly sounded like a fourteen- rather than four-letter word. Parenthood sounded like a great adventure rather than a waste of Steve Martin. And growing up sounded plausibly achievable. Once his whizzing brain had calmed down a wee bit and he discovered that such ludicrous thoughts were actually there to stay, he appreciated that he shouldn’t have been so amazed at the strength with which his paternal instincts had suddenly kicked in. It was hundreds of thousands of years of genetic programming against a brief decade or so of late twentieth-century pseudo-individualism. Besides, bottle feeding a wean at three in the morning would provide a unique opportunity to revisit the Moonlighting back-catalogue.”

YYYYYES! Four seasons of David Addison, Maddie Hayes, Bruce Willis, Cybill Shepherd, ying, yang, yadda, yadda, will they, won’t they… best late-80s television ever. Along with ‘Thirty Something’. And ‘Cheers’ of course. And especially ‘Northern Exposure’.

Have a great holiday Dave, get some Factor 30 on that extra nipple and hope to catch up soon when you return.

Cheers, Edge

Because A Friend Asked... Sort Of

2008-06-29T07:44:00.009+01:00

Friend: “So Neil, how about listing seven songs you’re into at the moment? No matter the genre, whether they have words or even if they’re any good but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, you know, shaping your Spring?”
Neil: “Shaping my Spring? What am I, the new man-candy presenter of The f#cking Beechgrove Garden?”
Friend: “Stop being such a bloody misery guts and just do it.”
Neil: “Can I just list seven songs off Outlandos D’Amour?”
Friend: “No.”
Neil: “Oh alright then. But just this once mind.”

Paul Weller – Have You Made Up Your Mind
I highlighted this a couple of weeks ago but it’s worth saying again; his new album “22 Dreams” is absolutely fantastic and gets better on every listening. Seeing him sing this song on ‘Later with Jools Holland’ (as well as playing that gorgeous Fender Telecaster – my number one must-have-but-can’t-afford desire right now) was the trigger that made me “log on” to iTunes and “download” (is that how you say it?) the album straight away. Exactly what the interweb was invented for.

The Raconteurs – Salute Your Solution
I didn’t know this was Jack White’s ‘other’ band (not that I have a clue about The White Stripes either) until a pal recommended I listen to their latest album “Consoler Of The Lonely”. It’s still growing on me but I like this song in particular because whenever I hear it, I picture Keith Richards playing the guitar riff… man.

Coldplay – Viva La Vida
It seems to have become very fashionable to despise Coldplay, sometimes with an irrational intensity based solely on Chris Martin’s hair / dancing / shy speaking voice / wife / kids’ names etc. Even my gentle pal Dave told me recently he’d purchased their new album “in a moment of weakness” and went on to say that it’s “just like their other stuff” which I took as a good thing because, pardon me, but I think they’re absolutely brilliant. As a songwriter (hark at me!) I think a memorable melody trumps less-than-Shakespearean lyrics and this band deliver on that front every time. I saw them play at a festival in Texas a few years back and they are phenomenal live so now I can’t wait to go and see them again in Glasgow in December, a gig for which I have a spare ticket if anyone (and by “anyone” I mean “hot, single female”) is interested?

Sheryl Crow – Love Is Free
This song is probably not my favourite from her recent album “Detours” but it’s insanely catchy and is the very definition of a song that’s “shaping my Spring”. I saw her play in Glasgow on Friday night (have I mentioned the kiss-blowing?) and let me tell you there’s nothing hotter than a 40-something rock chick with a Fender Telecaster slung low across her slender hips. (I wonder if she fancies going to see Coldplay?) And in this video she reminds me of someone rather special.

Justin Currie – What Is Love For?
When I first heard them back in the late 80s, Del Amitri were the band I always hoped The Signals would become. Cool, acoustic-based rock ‘n roll, joyously delivered by good-looking Scottish musicians with a dry sense of humour and just the right amount of facial hair and flowing locks. (Now that I think about it, THAT is the answer I should’ve given during my High School careers interview when asked about how I saw my life unfolding. Rather than, “Um, dunno… something involving pizza?”) They should’ve been HUGE in the States instead of being limited to that one hit “Roll To Me” (perhaps their weakest single) which happened to be on various film soundtracks and is still a much loved standard in shopping mall food courts across America.

Former front man Justin Currie is undoubtedly one of Scotland’s greatest ever singer-songwriters and this title song from last year’s debut solo album continues his tradition of producing lasting, heart-wrenching odes to love and loss. Last night I went to see him play a terrific show in a little venue called Oran Mor in Glasgow. He was funny, shy, nervous at times but happily attempted to perform spontaneous requests from the audience, not always with a successful conclusion which only enhanced the overall experience ten-fold. He’s got more than a bit of an insecure streak and reading some of his thoughts on his (and Del Amitri’s) MySpace sites will want to make you give him a hug. (In case you’re wondering, I refrained from rushing the stage last night.) Great song, great album, can’t wait for the next one.

[Interesting aside: Oran Mor is a converted church that sits on the corner of the busy junction of Byres Road and Great Western Road in Glasgow. This is the EXACT location I’ve always pictured in my head when hearing the lyrics “Now the traffic lights change to stop when there’s nothing to go, and by five o’clock everything’s dead, and every third car is a cab...” from Del Amitri’s 1989 song “Nothing Ever Happens”. Spooky huh?]

The Killers – All These Things That I’ve Done
The Signals are currently going through a phase of finding and rehearsing new cover versions and this one is on the short list after being suggested by powerhouse bass player Donald “Now Where Did I Put My Readers?” Campbell. I have to admit I had little time for The Killers (or is it just ‘Killers’?) until I saw them on television last year at Abbey Road studios doing a spine-tingling rendition of Dire Straits’s “Romeo & Juliet”. So I now have both albums and it turns out they’re not that bad after all. Who knew?

FYI – other artists whose songs we’re considering include Snow Patrol, Stereophonics, Counting Crows, Train, Ryan Adams, Wilco, Foo Fighters, KT Tunstall, The Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash, Bon Jovi (f#cking-A!), Take That (yes, really!) AND…

Bruce Springsteen – I'll Work For Your Love
In my book this is flawless songwriting. From the piano intro and snappy snare drum announcing the rockin’ first verse with glorious descending bass, there is absolutely no blemish or waste in this song. Verse, chorus, verse, chorus (with lyrics in the best story-telling tradition), 8-bar harmonica solo, Middle-8, take it down a notch for the first two lines of the third verse and then crank it up for the final extended chorus all the way through to a ‘proper’ ending. Three and a half minutes of absolute musical perfection. His last album “Magic” has been in my car since I got it last year and shows no signs of being permanently usurped by any other.

And that’s that… seven of the best. In case you missed it (Dad?) clicking on the underlined blue words above will take you to some videos/song extracts on the You Tube. So anyway, what’ve you been listening to lately?

OMG... OMG...

2008-06-28T07:17:00.000+01:00

… I went to see Sheryl Crow last night and at one point she looked right at me and blew me a kiss! ME! A KISS! And yes, she was absolutely fantastic. And no, I didn’t remember to take my camera. But did I mention the kiss-blowing…?

Arse...!

2008-06-26T07:13:00.002+01:00

I mislaid my my mobile/cell phone in Bristol yesterday so if any of you are trying to text me with that strange language of numbers and symbols that you use, first of all DON'T because it's a complete abuse of the English language and is not big or clever, and second of all I won't receive it until my phone is returned to me (or finds its own way home like those two dogs and a cat from the 70s Disney movie) early next week.

CU L8R

Giant Steps Are What You Take

2008-06-23T23:59:00.004+01:00

Well it’s nearly a week now since I went to see The Police in Manchester and although I expected to write a meticulous and thorough review much earlier than this, there hardly seems much point when the whole experience can be summed up with – cue high-pitched yelp - “ABSOLUTELY F#CKING AWESOME”. Seriously, if you want to see the greatest three-piece band ever producing a live sound that is the very definition of synergeticismness whilst surrounded by an ocean of white, 40-somethings performing what can only be described as “f#ckwit dancing”, then this is the concert tour for you.

I have to admit that when I entered the Manchester Evening News Arena last Tuesday evening my emotions were a strange mix of teenage hysteria and middle-age pragmatism(ness?), such was my trepidation that Sting would put on some new age re-interpretation of all the classic songs, complete with yoga interlude and didgeridoo.

The appearance of a stool in front of his microphone just before the lights dimmed did little to allay these fears and I held my breath dreading some unrecognisable rendition of Roxanne played on the f#cking lute… “Roxanne… thou dost not need douse the red light…”

But I needn’t have worried. The stool was to allow him to play a strapless wee acoustic guitar and as the first familiar strains of ‘Bring On The Night’ began, the show (and my bladder control) was off and running.

Ripping through ‘Message In A Bottle’ (still the greatest pop single EVER), ‘Walking On The Moon’, ‘Demoliton Man’, ‘Voices inside My Head/When The World Is Running Down’ and ‘Don’t Stand So Close To Me’ it was hard to believe such talent and energy was radiating from three guys with a combined age of 176. After ‘Driven To Tears’ and ‘Hole In My Life’, my favourite moment of the night followed when they signed off a stomping version of ‘Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic’ by completely f#cking up the ending and blaming each other. Man, I know how that feels.

‘Wrapped Around Your Finger’, ‘De Do Blah Blah’, ‘Invisible Sun’ (did you know they had this many hits?) a crunching ‘Can’t Stand Losing You’ and still there was time for ‘Roxanne’, ‘King Of Pain’, ‘So Lonely’ and finally – cue white, f#ckwit-dancing 40-somethings holding each other close and gazing wistfully into each other’s crossed-eyes – ‘Every Breath You Take’. But no, not finally ‘cause they still came back to do a whirlwind ‘Next To You’ with punky ending and soaring bass player leap. Fanf#ckingtastic!

Words don’t come close to properly articulating how happy I was at the end of this night. Middle-age pragmatism had come very close to extinguishing 24 years of hysterical teenage hope of ever seeing this band play together again and to see them perform as well as they did took my breath away. Mind you, being there with one of the people who accompanied me to the 1984 Edinburgh Playhouse gig was pretty special also.

Alas, although being only twenty rows from the front and in possession of a half-decent camera, I had neither the technical know-how nor steadiness of hand to produce any decent photographs. This is the best I can offer.

Never mind though. Here instead is me and my short shorts relaxing in our luxury hotel room afterwards. What a night!

OMG...

2008-06-17T09:54:00.000+01:00

OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG… OMG…

… I’m going to see The Police tonight!!! OMG!!!

Something For The Weekend 41

2008-06-13T00:07:00.011+01:00

Dave,

A quick cultural update for you this week ‘cause I’ve just been so busy playing great golf coupled with trying to keep my voice at a pitch and resonance that doesn’t shatter glassware wherever I go, such is my pants-wetting hysteria at the prospect of seeing The Police next Tuesday night. So, in brief…

Television
The only thing I’ve watched this week is some football (Super Henrik!) and the conclusion of “The Apprentice” (how gorgeous was Helene? and a boob job to boot apparently!?) and yet again Alan Bloody Sugar picked the wrong winner. Honestly Dave, what the f#ck does that guy know about business?

Music
Don’t tell my wee brother (he’s a Jam fan… I’m a Police fan… imagine our idyllic childhood?) but I bought the new Paul Weller album, “22 Dreams”, this week and am enjoying it enormously. It’s a bit mellow and trippy at times with enough rockin’ guitar in all the right places and there’s no doubting the guy can write a good song. Need a copy?

Literature
I finally finished that bloody Brian bloody Clough bloody book young man. Good story but what a bloody slog to get through. This reading lark is hard work. Someone should tell these so-called authors to record their “outputs” on to some kind of audio tape facility so I can listen to it on my car’s 8-track.

Art
Most “art”, of course, is utter pants but I know what I like and I really like these photos where people have been captured jumping in mid air whilst totally covered in sheets and fabrics. I also like them because they were taken in my favourite city of Austin, TX.

Comedy
Not everyone’s sense of humour is the same but if these commercials don’t make you laugh just a little bit then frankly, you’re a bit mental.

Food & Drink
You know Dave, I’ve never really understood all the fuss about getting “five a day”. But that’s because, until this week, I thought people were talking about “meals”.

Fashion
I’m in a bit of a quandary about what to wear to the Police gig next Tuesday. Beard or clean shaven? Baseball cap or stetson? Denim or cords? Jacket or hoodie? Boxers or commando? Timberlands or white Shakin' Stevens boots? I still have a red Police t-shirt from 1980, as sported here by Stewart Copeland, but let’s just say it’s a bit on the “snug” side.

If only I could track down this slightly larger effort from 1981.

This is me on a school trip to Switzerland with best pal Big Al “The Kiddies Pal” Hendry. Not really sure why Al had such a penchant for so much leather or why he seems to be fascinated by his own fist but the combination of the two is a little disturbing. Perhaps he was just over exuberant after we’d broken into that white car to steal a wallet and couldn’t wait to spend the francs on double (and underage!) beers!

Or how about this one from the “Synchronicity” years?

This is me in San Antonio, Ibiza in 1984 complete with Indiana Jones (sort of ) hat and standard issue Scottish “carry-out” in a plastic duty-free bag. The previous night, I’d been at the very same discotheque where Wham’s “Club Tropicana” video was filmed. Hence the short shorts!

As a guru of all things fashionable Dave, I’d welcome any input you have to offer. Nothing yellow though. Or pink.

Have a great weekend and come back next week when I’ll no doubt be sharing a photo or fifty from the gig.

Cheers, Edge

I Had A Sixty-Nine Yesterday...

2008-06-09T00:05:00.000+01:00

... and very sweet it was too.

Something For The Weekend 40

2008-06-06T00:05:00.001+01:00

Dave,

Busy, busy, busy over the last couple of weeks what with playing golf and rockin’ with the greatest band in the world and finding “inner peace” on various school nights, woo hoo! In fact I’ve been home so infrequently that my magic tv box recorder thingy has somehow accumulated 42 hours of stuff for me to watch! Mind you, at least 33 hours of that is QVC’s “Gems Galore” and “Botanical Beauty” outputage so I can see my credit card taking a major hit at some point.

Culture-wise, I went to see that new “Sex And The City” movie the other day and OMG is it LONNGGG. Then I realised it’s a film about women talking so… mystery solved. It was okay I suppose although I didn’t quite buy in to Sarah Jessica Parker’s extreme over-reaction at being “jilted” at the altar. If she’d paused for even a second to let her fiancé get a word in edgewise (aye, right!) she’d have discovered that Mr Big was on his way back to the wedding ceremony and the whole film would’ve been done in half an hour. Then again, if she was thrashing him over the head with flowers for being the worst actor in the world, that I can understand.

If you hadn’t just gotten yourself engaged recently Dave and were still the young gay blade around town I remember so fondly, you could so totally score big by attending a screening. Or seven. No kidding, when the credits rolled and the lights went up, the target demographic for this film had long since devoured their Ben & Jerry’s and were already scanning the theatre, hungry for a little extra “candy” on which to gobble. Discretion (and exhaustion) prevents me from revealing more but let’s just say it’s been a while now since I’ve had to use the phrase, “Ladies, form an orderly queue.”

Elsewhere on the culture front, I’m still trying to finish a football book that Blousie gave me called “The Damned United” which is all about Brian Clough and Leeds United. I thought I’d be done with it by now in order to pass it on to you but although I’m enjoying the story, the writing style’s a bit annoying and there are far less pop-up pictures and places to paste in my Panini stickers than I expected. After that, I’ve got the new Bill Bryson book “Shakespeare” to review for Lesley and before you know it, it’ll be time to stock up on comics for my holidays.

Music-wise, I’m going through the incontinent pants like there’s no tomorrow because… OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG… it’s only TEN MORE DAYS till I go and see The Police in Manchester. I’ll try and stay composed (and dry) enough next week to give you a little more background and trivia about this 30-year obsession but I can feel a bowel movement coming on just now so I’ll just say have a great weekend Dave and catch up soon.

Cheers, Edge

Inner Peace*

2008-06-04T06:56:00.001+01:00

I’m passing this on because it definitely worked for me and we all could use more calm in our lives. By following this simple advice I heard on a medical TV show ('Doctor Who' I think it was) I have finally found inner peace. Some “expert” proclaimed the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you’ve started. So I looked round the house to find things I'd started but hadn't finished and, before leaving the house this morning, I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of shhhardonay, a bodle of Baileys, a butle of vocka, a pockage of Prunglies, tha mainder of bot Prozic and Valum scriptins, the res of the Chesescke an a box a chocolets. Yu haf no idr who fkin gud I fel. Peas sen dis orn to dem yu fee AR in ned ov inr pece.

*©Tommy Thompson

"Hey! Nice..."

2008-05-26T23:32:00.000+01:00

I think we'd all give a big Bank Holiday 'thump-up' to this news... Chr#st, it really does seem like 400 years!

Something For The Weekend 39 With An Extra Long Title Just In Case We Forgot To Include A Plot

2008-05-23T00:08:00.003+01:00

Hey Dave,

You know how I’m always going on about Gillian Anderson? And The Police? And pizza? And The Signals? And Starbucks? And Gillian Anderson? Well the seventh magnificent thing that makes my life so full and complete is the thought that a once great cinematic hero would one day return to the… um… cinema. If you only do one thing this weekend, do what Bruce and I did last night (me in row 20 and him in row 1 because of all his nasty nacho-‘n-jalapeno belching) and go see “Indiana Jones & The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull”. It’s absolutely magic.

I can’t tell you how much I wanted to be Indiana Jones when I was young (35) and although I always hoped a fourth film would be made, I have to admit I was slightly dreading the possibility that it might be complete and utter pants. But it’s not.

Inexplicably, the cinema was only about 20% full (was there something important on the telly last night?) but we all got our money’s worth. Sure, it’s a little bit too pantomimey and clever in parts but the action is great, the story’s pretty good (despite the involvement of George Lucas) and Cate Blanchett is absolutely stunning… as well as looking a lot like the cute girl in the pub last Friday who asked me to go home with her to Inverkeithing! (In case you’re wondering Dave, I declined. Not because of the whole never-venture-to-Fife-after-dark rule – although that is reason enough – but because I had a… *ahem*… very early tee time the next morning. Suave eh?)

Anyway, I won’t spoil the plot for you except to say look out for the bit in the ruined temple where they bump into Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft and some essential plot point means she has to take off all her clothes in order to slide down a narrow cavity to rescue… eh… I forget what happens after that but the cinematography was awesome. So good in fact that I’m going back to see it again tomorrow. Enjoy and have a great weekend.

Cheers, Edge

P.S. Roll on the new X-Files movie!!!

Caption Competition... Sort Of

2008-05-20T00:03:00.001+01:00

A couple of Saturdays ago, I was round at the house of Donald ‘King Thumb’ Campbell, ass-kickin’, hell-raisin’, bass player of The Signals, where I ran the gauntlet of rock ‘n roll excess by sitting in his sunny back garden enjoying a nice cup of freshly brewed tea. AND a hob-nob. We discussed many of the important issues of the day – mainly stuff about how much we hate moody teenagers and queuing in shops and how frustrating it is for him not to get served immediately in a bar (he’s only 4’ 8”) – but eventually we got on to the subject of this whole internet fad and what more we could be doing to promote our band in a so-called “digital medium”.

Donald: “So Soapy, this MySpace pish… what’s that all about then?”
Neil: “Well Donald, it’s some kind of ‘digital medium’ (I made that ‘apostrophes’ sign with my fingers that I’ve seen condescending Guardian readers on arts programmes do when they haven’t got a clue what they’re talking about) where you get your own ‘space’ (fingers again) to… eh… do music up and down loading and make new friends.”
Donald: “Friends? I don’t wanna be making friends with no train-spottin’ computer geeks. Can we no just put some photos on it and pretend we’re 21 again?”
Neil: “And how would that be any different from any other day?”

So we dug out some old photos and tried to insert them into the slot in the computer but were abruptly informed by Donald’s moody teenage daughter that we needed something called a scanner… “Ye ken..? So yous can ‘scan’ (condescending fingers) them in like, ya coupla fannys.”

Anyway, long story short, there are now many new (i.e. ‘old’) photos on The Signals MySpace site although I think you might need the relevant kind of “log-on” to view them.

One of our favourites is the one you can see below which was taken sometime in the mid 1980s by official band photographer Alex Burt on the site of an old Roman fort near Bonnybridge, Scotland’s UFO capital of… um… Scotland. I’ve looked at this photo many times over the last 20+ years but have only recently considered the vexing question of… “What the f#ck was I thinking with that jump?”

On the extreme left you’ve got ‘Handsome’ Doug Grant looking cool as always like he’s in that scene from the first Mission Impossible film when Tom Cruise gets blasted from a helicopter on to the back of a speeding Channel Tunnel train. Next to him, young Billy Boo Bob looks like he’s attempting the long jump in a remarkably similar pose to that donned by Paul Weller on the front cover of a Jam album (Stuart – help me out here.) Donald, soon to hit his mid-life crisis at the tender age of 22 and with it, become The World’s Most Tolerant Man™, looks to have spotted the fluffy bunny who shat on his white, pristine Shakin’ Stevens boots and is about to crush the life out of “the furry little f#cker”.

And on the extreme right there’s me who, if I didn’t know any better, appears to be exclaiming, “Oh hooray, I’ve just bought some half-price Sticky Toffee Pudding scented candles from Au Naturale.”

So please, if you can think of any cool or hip (Daddy-O?) caption that might better explain what on earth is going on here, a rare piece of Signals memorabilia could well be heading your way.

There IS A God

2008-05-18T18:43:00.002+01:00

I was so happy on hearing this good news that I went back today and bought a couple of these… Sticky Toffee Pudding candles! I took them home and lit them to give thanks to our merciful Lord for casting his gracious countenance upon the valiant employees whose hard work has filled my home with soft throw cushions and seductive scents. Now I just feel hungry all the bloody time.

Something For The Weekend 38

2008-05-16T00:14:00.006+01:00

Dave,

Many thanks to you (and others) for your response to my plea for help last week. You’ll be glad to learn that I’m feeling myself this week, much more than I was before. Previously. So that obviously brings its own pleasures. I’m also looking forward to seeing you in the pub tonight where we can talk about sports teams and rock ‘n roll music and Indiana Jones and exhaust manifolds and the like. And drink beer.

I’m going to be playing golf ALL weekend so I don’t have any specific cultural events to recommend to you over the next couple of days but I would like to give you a “heads-up” (©Andy Sipowitz) about an unmissable gig happening mere yards from your door a fortnight tomorrow.

On the evening of Saturday May 31st, there’s a charity gig at the Corn Exchange in Edinburgh which will raise money for CLIC Sargent and Breast Cancer. It features a fantastic band called Soul Inferno (see what I did there with them fancy, evocative flaming colours? iMacs… who bloody needs ‘em?) the bass player of whom (who? which?) is married to my good friend Morven... who I think you might know? Or will certainly have heard about by reputation... ho, ho, ho.

Anyway, I’ve seen them before and they’re great (and their singer’s pretty hot too) and tickets are only £10 each, available from Morven (this is a link to her Bebo site… whatever the hell that is?) or me, I guess, if you email me. If that wasn’t value enough, the ticket price also includes “supper” which I’m reliably informed will be “a big f#ck-off bowl of stovies”. What a bargain, and I’ll be there, so tell all your pals and let me know how many tickets you’ll need.

Talking of “totally awesome live bands”, The Signals are currently arse-deep in negotiations for a plethora* of gigs over the upcoming summer months so come back here on Tuesday to find out more, including the chance to win a rare piece of band memorabilia… the bass player’s wallet, ho, ho, ho.

Finally Dave, it would be remiss of me not to offer my heartiest congratulations after hearing the frankly incredible news that you got engaged last week in… *cough*… "gay" Paris. I’m obviously a bit miffed that you didn’t consult me on the matter before barging ahead like a bull in the duvet section of John Lewis and I’m left feeling somewhat devastated that you’ve now “pulled out” of your planned “sleepover” here. However, I’m sure “she” is worth it and I know you’ll have been celebrating by spontaneously leaping up from your desk at work and exposing your nipples at regular intervals... all three of them. As is your way. Rest assured I will be buying you many drinks tonight to show there are no hard feelings. Now tell me… do you need a band for the big day?

Cheers, Edge

*two (three if we secure the wedding gig)

Something For The Weekend 37

2008-05-09T00:05:00.004+01:00

My Dear Dave,

Please help me! I realise it’s been far too long since last we corresponded and I’m sure you’ve long since abandoned this site to hook up with some other interweb floosie – perhaps one with “downloads”? or “pop-ups”? – but I’m issuing this desperate plea to you because something drastic has happened to me and you’re the only one I can think of who might be able to explain it. Apologies for the epic retelling…

It all began innocently enough a couple of months back when I received a set of those thanks-for-not-f#cking-things-up-too-badly-in-‘07 gift vouchers from our mutual, benevolent employer. They were for “prestige” department store John Lewis and when I found out they didn’t sell pizza, I decided to buy a new duvet cover. For my duvet. Remarkably, despite discovering that I apparently have a King-Size duvet on a Double-Size bed, I managed to purchase the correct cover - with matching pillowcases - without much trouble. Even more remarkable was the fact that I managed to get a colour and pattern that vaguely matched the existing bedroom curtains. Result!

All was well until I decided a few weeks later that my smart new duvet cover was just way too chic and pristine for my 16 year-old duvet which, by the way, I don’t think I’ve ever washed! (Quick trivia question: Who used to say, “We don’t DO duvets!”) I mean… who in their right mind wraps lovely organic cotton around a hollow fibre duvet, right?

As luck would have it, I received some more of the prestige gift vouchers last week for my birthday (no belated greetings required) from my loving siblings. When my beautiful wee sister Rona arrived on Sunday for a relaxing few days of food and wine away from her young family, I immediately wrenched the Merlot out of her hands and marched her to the shops to help me buy a new duvet.

Dave, I don’t know if you’ve ever found yourself wandering aimlessly in the duvet section of John Lewis *wink* but the opulence and choice on offer is like a trip through the ancient Imperial courts of Eastern Europe… £300+ for Siberian Goose Down or Hungarian Goose Feather or Polish Duck Down and I swear I even saw a Russian silk-lined effort filled with the fluffiest down of cute, three-day old baby swans. Or cygnets if you feel like gettin’ all David Attenborough on ma ass. And don’t even get me started on the togs! What the f…?

With Rona’s help, I settled on a medium-priced, feather/down combination duvet from a duck(s) of non-specified origin. I had a little money left over and fairly quickly I started to get a tingling feeling in my toes; a strange unsettling sensation that my bedroom ensemble was not yet complete.

“Do you think John Lewis sell girlfriends?” I asked Rona earnestly.

“Don’t think THAT’S gonna be an issue if you carry on like this,” she mumbled quietly, almost as if she didn’t want me to hear. Weird.

As she later explained to me in hushed tones, there is apparently something called “accessorising” (from the Latin “access” meaning “get in” and “orising” meaning “to downward-spiralling uncontrollable debt”) and sure enough I had it bad. Before Rona could stop me I was off to the fitted bedsheet section to find the matching organic cotton gem on which I would lay my tender, recently-tanned but healthily moisturised skin that very night.

Later that evening we were driving through my home town to my favourite Indian restaurant – the one with Taj Mahal-sized nan breads – and happened to pass a retail park that had been built since Rona last visited.

“Hey look, they’ve got an Au Naturale store there,” she exclaimed with excitement. “And they’re having a closing down sale. Maybe we could pick you up a couple of scented candles tomorrow?”

I could tell she was having a little fun at my expense and I resorted to my usual big brother tactic of smiling condescendingly and smacking her round the head but inside I was thinking, “What a fanf#ckingtastic idea! And I could maybe get some new pillows while I’m at it.” Sure enough, next morning I was up early ready to spend my entire Bank Holiday Monday elbowing manic housewives out the way to grab the last packet of cinnamon-scented pot-pourri.

(Top Shopping Tip: If you’ve been for a curry the night before and are feeling a little “windy” during your retail therapy, do your “crop-dusting” in the pot-pourri section – the awesome power of the jasmine and lavender means that no-one will ever know.)

Dave… I tell you… I was physically twitching as I wandered round the house waiting for Rona to wake up and finish her breakfast so we could head off to Au Naturale World. Here’s what I ended up buying:

- Wooden picture frame (1): to house the photo of victorious Team Edge, and which will sit in the spare room in time for Big G’s visit in July.

- Pillows (2): Snuggledown Bounce Backs at £6 a pair? Oh, I think so.

- Big White Bath Towel (1): Monica would categorise it “Fancy Guest”.

- Strawberry & Cream Candle Pillars (3): They match the colour scheme in my living room so I’m hardly gonna ignore them at £3 each, am I?

- Scented Candle Pots (3): These are candles that come in their own little glass containers. I’ve been thinking for a while now that the overhead light in the bathroom is too harsh when I’m lying back in a soapy bubble bath of lavender and ylang-ylang perusing Cosmo, so these are perfect for a more subtle reading experience. Not only that, but they are the EXACT same fragrance as the bubble bath. Talk about complementary accessorising! You see how serious this is getting Dave… throw in a little Kenny G and a glass of chardonnay and I’m ready for a guest spot on Will & Grace.

- Twig Lights (4): A fiver for these 3-foot high, twig-like stalks with little fairy lights wrapped round them for a more subtle lighting experience in the dining area. For all those dinner parties I have.

- Cream Vase (1): To accommodate the twig lights.

Dave… what’s wrong with me? I’ve still got some Amazon vouchers to spend and I find myself clicking on “houseware and furnishings” rather than conducting my usual “Gillian Anderson” search. Is it because I cut my hair short and shaved off my beard last week? Am I trying to compensate for the fact that Ikea is miles away? Do I just need a right good drink?

Please reply soon with an explanation and/or cure because the little tingling feeling in my toes is back and I have the strangest urge to spend the next Bank Holiday antiquing in the Lake District. I mean... is that even a real verb? Antiquing? Next thing you know I’ll be telling you I’m planning to “summer” in the Hamptons. Holy sh..

Yours in desperation.

Edge

Drink Sangria In The Park...

2008-04-29T23:48:00.001+01:00

Well… no… I didn’t, but the rest of the day was damn near perfect…

9:24am Wake after nine glorious hours of peaceful, unbroken sleep and realise I’m still on holiday.
9:25am Have bladder-emptying ritual of biblical proportions because of the whole nine-hour, unbroken-sleep thing.
9:32am Make delicious cup of my tea in my favourite f#ck-work-I’m-still-on-holiday mug.
9.36am Enjoy bowl of Honey Nut Corn Flakes… (singalong now) “they’re tasty, tasty, very very tasty…”
9:58am Postman arrives. No bills. No ‘pre-approved’ credit card applications. No please-save-the-orphan-lesbian-whale charity collection sacks. Just pleasant correspondence from people I actually know.
10:14am Enter shower.
10:18am ?!@~{+}*&^%$£”#;!!!!!!
10:29am Exit shower.
10:58am Pack car with golf clubs and CDs.
11:08am Slide into Dixie Chicks… CD.. select.. stereo.. player.. and.. (Not sure the syntax or grammar is quite right there?)
11:43am Arrive at golf club.
11:58am Sun comes out.
11:59am Launch 280-yard drive effortlessly down first fairway.
2:32pm Tap in final putt for two-over par round.
2:40pm Drive out of golf club as first spots of rain appear.
3:05pm Arrive in Glasgow city centre and find parking spot straight away.
3:23pm Enter Starbucks to find absolutely NO queue. Order four-shot venti caramel macchiato (extra hot) from gorgeous-smiling barista (extra hot).
3:38pm Wander down Buchanan Street and get lured into Apple store by unexplainable retailing tractor beam, so sleek and seductive that I end up wanting to marry every fixture and fitting in the place.
4:01pm Power of fiendish tractor beam broken by God as heavens open and tropical thunder storm of… um… biblical proportions explodes on Glasgow. No sh#t, I have NEVER seen or heard anything remotely like it in this country EVER before. Previously.
4:06pm Defy God and cheat death by running through flooded, electrified streets to my favourite sports shop – Greaves – to look for new Sweden away strip. They only have the home strip and I SO do not do yellow!
4:28pm Return to car just before tropical thunderstorm turns into giant hail storm… what the f…?
4:59pm Arrive at friends’ house armed with lashings of Cadbury’s chocolate buttons, some of which are for them.
5:15pm Chug on ice cold bottle of Corona.
5:58pm Tuck into second helping of delicious home-made lasagna.
7:24pm Leave for home on what turns out to be stunning, sun-kissed evening.
8:24pm Have bath.
8:50pm Get feet up and watch Man U go through to Champions League final.
10:06pm Turn computer on and have nice “chat” with lovely girl thousands of miles away.
10:39pm Wee brother calls from America and shoot breeze about all things golf-related. He’s off to see Goldfrapp in New York tonight. Now is that the one with Sean Connery or Roger Moore?
11:43pm Finish emails and writing.
11:55pm Go to bed to dream of silky golf swing, hot barista girl and what a nice day it was to turn 44 years of age.

Done, Dusted...

2008-04-24T06:34:00.004+01:00

...the fat lady has sung, taken a bow, had a quick drink backstage with the rest of the cast, gone late-night crusin' in the vain hope of a lumber and staggered home alone save only for the drippin' kebab (large), the remnants of which will no doubt be fed to her 15 cats in the morning.

Needing only one and a half points (yesterday's estimate was wrong) out of eight singles matches today, Team Edge came stormin' home with three and a half and a winning margin of 14.5 - 9.5. Every man on the team was a hero but special mention should be made of Marty Mackenzie, the only man on either side ever to win all five matches. He will hereby only ever be referred to as "Hawaii"... gettit?

The cup comes home tomorrow. Unfortunately, so also do we. A fanf'ntastic week.

Shock And Awe

2008-04-23T04:42:00.002+01:00

It's way too early in the morning for any kind of articulate update on the past two days but let's just say that if a fleet of Bell helicopters had swept in low off the coast armed with all manner of mass destruction devices whilst blasting out Wagner's Ride of The Valkyries, they wouldn't have unleashed the same level of unholy hell as Team Edge has.. um .. unleashed.

3-5 down after the first two days, Captain Edge - fresh from a famous late night Texas Hold 'Em triumph - announces, "Deliver a whitewash tomorrow and I'm buying the drinks all night." 16 short hours later, Team Edge delivers four devastating victories and Captain Edge has never been more pleased to remortgage his house to pick up the tab. Team Edge 7, Team Tank 5.

During the celebratory post match pasta fest that is the Macaroni Grill, Captain Edge requests, "Same again please." His team of heroes, unaware of the fact that their captain is demanding a third portion of nine-layer lasagna, take him all too literally and deliver yet another awesome whitewash of their increasingly weary foes. Team Edge 11, Team Tank 5.

With eight singles matches tomorrow (today?), we need only two and a half points for ultimate victory.

"On my signal, unleash..."

From Our US Correspondent...

2008-04-21T14:20:00.003+01:00

Day Four Update...STOP. Team Edge 5-3 down after two golf days...STOP. Expect stormin' comeback this afternoon after day of rest yesterday where Lord's commandments strictly observed by way of shopping, theme parks, drinking, poker and drunken midnight game of American football in car park...STOP. Florida very hot... TOP. So was girl in bar who gave us gift certificates for cheap golf at exclusive course... STOP. It's tough out here but will try and get through it...STOP. OUT.

I'm Off...

2008-04-17T00:06:00.001+01:00

…to Florida (here to be exact)… in 9 hours time… just in case you dropped by looking for some light relief and wondered why I wasn’t writing as regularly as usual!?!

Wee Man/Pooch – Will try and give you some updates on the golf. Especially if the news is good.

Everyone else in the UK – If you need any shopping done, drop me a line or leave a comment and let me know.

Everyone else in the USA – Will maybe bump into you next week?

Sleep Rona Sleep

2008-04-14T08:01:00.000+01:00

My wee sister ran the London marathon yesterday in UNDER SIX HOURS, enduring some horrendous hail storms that finished off lesser mortals. Many thanks to all who sponsored her.

Rona - you are my hero, the veritable wind beneath my wings and I hope you’re having a well-earned sleep today.

Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything non-stop for six hours… although there was that one time… with that girl in… um… eh, never mind.

Talk Rona Talk

2008-04-01T23:34:00.001+01:00

Remember last month when I shared the email from my beautiful wee sister preparing to run the London Marathon? Well now she’s only gone and gotten herself on the radio, appearing yesterday on the BBC no less to share her story with a wider listening audience.

It was my sincere hope that the first time I posted a link on this site to hear a Sutherland on the radio, you would be taken to some BBC6 podcast of a spine-chilling performance by The Signals appearing live at Madison Square Garden. But THIS is even better.

Better Than A Poke In The Eye With A Sharp Stick

2008-03-27T21:58:00.004Z

Two strange things happened to me today. (Three, if you count turning on the computer and writing this.) For the first time in… God knows how long… I left work, started to drive home and realised I was in a good mood. But, and here’s part one of the strangeness, I had absolutely no idea why. Still don’t.

Something to do with the fact that it was still daylight outside perhaps? Or because it’s nearly Friday and I’ll maybe get away with just having to work one day this weekend? Or because three weeks today I’ll be playing golf with my good friends (Oh Dave, we’ll miss you) whilst enjoying the warm, Florida sun on my back? Who knows.

So, I arrived home, changed into some comfortable “leisurewear” (“jogging” trousers, not leather) and considered my dinner options. I almost rustled up a mouth-watering combination of Campbell’s meatballs and potato waffles but then I realised it’s not 1977 and had some pasta instead. With the Campbell’s meatballs.

Soon enough it was time to grab a good book and lie back in a warm bubble bath of lavender and ylang-ylang – the small flower from the cananga tree of course, NOT the name of a recent acquisition from Korean Brides Monthly magazine. Her name is Ming-Ming.

And that’s when part two of the strangeness happened… although it’s just now dawned on me that I don’t really want to write much more about it because ‘ER’ is about to come on and I need to find out if Abby is going to be okay after her recent fall off the wagon and let’s face it, if she leaves the show then it’s not really going to be worth watching anymore. Unless Maria Bello comes back as lovely Dr. Anna Del Amico. And I suppose Neela has her moments. But now I’m just haivering… as Lesley would say.

Anyway… in short… if you want to find out some of the dark places and thoughts that have occupied my mind in recent months (now that sounds like F.U.N. eh?) read chapter one of ‘A Big Boy Did It And Ran Away’ by Christopher Brookmyre. So striking and close to home that it left me shaking in the warm soapy bubbles. Or was that Ming-Ming?

Run Rona Run

2008-03-05T23:14:00.004Z

Regular readers (both of you) will quickly realise that the following is something I don’t do very often. While I admire people who can write about personal things in an engaging way, I’ve preferred instead to try and find interesting subjects that have a funny side which I can a) enhance or b) take the complete piss out of. Or preferably c) both! It’s fair to say that these have been in short supply lately so as you might have noticed, I’d rather write nothing at all than drone on about… whatever.

However, I wanted to share an email I received from my beautiful wee sister the other day, not only because it highlights an extremely worthy subject but is written in such a loving and compelling way that it made my heart burst with pride when I got to the end. If it moves you also, you’ll notice there’s some support you can give, but regardless, I hope you enjoy reading it and I’m glad I finally found something worth writing about.

Dear Family

As most of you will already know, our lovely little boy Tommy, was diagnosed with autism last year.

This means that he has great difficulties with:

social interaction, such as playing with other children;

communication, such as understanding what other people mean or talking meaningfully using his own words;

being flexible, such as tolerating changes to everyday routines

It also gives him considerable strengths. He has a fantastic memory for rote learning and scripts which usually lands him the lead role in the Christmas nativity! And he is great with computers, numbers, jigsaws and other such things which are visual, consistent and predictable.

When he is not frustrated or anxious, he can be the most adorably funny and affectionate little boy.

The National Autistic Society (NAS) has been a huge source of support to Al and myself since Tommy's diagnosis. In fact, we are currently taking part in a NAS 10 week course called Early Bird Plus, designed to help parents, and it is proving to be absolutely invaluable. The cost to us for doing this course is a mere £30, even though it costs the NAS thousands of pounds to run.

To give a little something back to the National Autistic Society, I have decided to run the London Marathon this year with all sponsorships and donations going to the NAS. I have pledged to raise £2,000.

Just a fraction of £2,000 can be put to good use:

The NAS autism helpline takes over 40,000 calls each year. Just £10 enables the NAS to provide an anxious caller with vital information, advice and support;

For just £260, the NAS can help a child with autism get the right education for their needs through the Advocacy for Education service;

For just £110, a volunteer befriender can be trained to offer friendship and support to someone with autism and their family.

Please support me in raising money for such a worthy charity. You can sponsor me online by visiting http://www.justgiving.com/runronarun or you can send me a cheque made payable to The National Autistic Society.

Wishing you all a very happy 2008.

With love,

Rona

www.autism.org.uk "think differently about autism"

"Women. Can't Live With Them...

2008-02-29T18:00:00.003Z

… pass the beer nuts.” (What’s that quote from?)

It’s already 6pm and I STILL haven’t received any marriage proposals today… wtf? And me having been so outgoing and amiable (and available) these past few long dark winter months. Oh well, you've got six hours left to rectify matters. (Not you Dave.) Or more if you live in America. Or Brazil, or Peru or the Galapagos Islands or…

38 Seconds...

2008-02-13T22:49:00.001Z

... but if you listen to it over and over again, the sound doesn't seem so distorted. This is us playing a Carole King song called 'I Can't Make It Alone'. We're half way through the second set and starting to look at our watches wondering whether it's bedtime. Check out the girl in yellow on the left make what looks like a rude-like gesture!

NO... I Said I Wanted BROWN M&Ms!

2008-02-12T22:41:00.000Z

I received a rather abrupt text message today that read... “Hey u lazy g##. Get some f###### writing done on that f###### blog cos I wanna read about your gig" ... or something like that.

To be honest, I think I’m still recovering from what was an exhausting two-hour performance on Friday night and since most of the people who read this and/or know me weren’t there, I can honestly say it was the greatest gig ever. But don’t just take my word for it…

“A triumphant homecoming…” said The Sunday Times. “An awesome display of rockin’ majesty…” added Kerrang magazine. “I was surprised they were all still alive,” commented the venue owner.

Sure, there was the odd bum note and improvised lyric but we powered through 24 songs (count ‘em Morv… 24!!) and didn’t come running off stage till half past midnight, grabbing a hot cup of cocoa from the roadies waiting in the wings and then whisking off in a limo to our beds at the retirement community.

Rumour has it that a full 38 seconds of video footage from the night is available somewhere and may appear on the interweb if the footage owner – who also plays the bass and wears a white shirt – can locate the power switch for his daughter’s computer and then work out what You Tube is all about. While you’re waiting for that – and don’t hold your breath – here’s a very grainy photo of the band in action, together with at least eight of their adoring fans.

Something For The Weekend 36

2008-02-08T08:29:00.000Z

Dear Dave,

Well… as Rod Stewart used to say… do ya think I’m sexy?... eh, sorry, I mean… TONIGHT’S THE NIGHT… because in approximately eight hours or so I’ll be stepping out of a warm bubble bath and strapping myself into some “slimming” underwear before slipping on my black jeans from 1988 and then very quickly slipping out of them to try on some sensible slacks and a nice polo shirt instead, all in preparation for taking the stage for the triumphant homecoming return of The Signals.

Expectations about the gig are at fever pitch from the conversations I’ve managed to overhear between the many voices in my head and I’ve taken the day off work to catch up on napping as well as some “entertaining” with the fans that have been parked outside my house all week. Final rehearsals went very smoothly on Wednesday night – we turned up at the practice room on time and remembered each other’s names – so it only remains to be seen if we can pull off the biggest comeback since that time in the pub when you said something really stupid and I totally ripped the piss out of you with a cracking one-liner that left you shattered and humiliated, bubbling like a big cry baby with your self-esteem strewn in tatters on the saloon floor. Good times.

Actually, talking about comebacks, remember earlier in the week when I was whinging about not getting any substantial coverage in the local paper? Well, I was flicking through Volume 9 of The Definitive Signals Anthology the other day – that’s the one with all the pictures and pop-up features of various band members *snigger*– and I came across this classic cutting from 1991 when the Falkirk Herald was proclaiming the first of our many comebacks.

As you can see from the photo, young guitarist Billy Boo Bob (second from the right) was still sporting his Witness Protection Scheme Moustache™ which sort of explains why we’d been absent from the music scene for a while. But that’s not the whole story. I know you’re probably drooling over the rugged features of drummer Handsome Doug (extreme right) and thinking how cool he looks as a master of the dying art of pensive chin-clenching but the truth is he super-glued his hand to his face in 1989 and gave up gigging for a while after suffering a torrent of inappropriate “he’s no Def Leppard” abuse. From our bass player.

Anyway… 1991… Christ, that wasn’t yesterday but some things never change. I see from the photo that I appear to be wearing the classic rock ‘n roll ensemble of blue jeans and black t-shirt. If my sensible slacks and nice polo shirt turn up in the laundry basket later, I know what I’ll be wearing instead.

Have a great weekend Dave, whatever you do, and if you can make it to the gig then all the better. Perhaps Bruce will bring his little video camera and we’ll finally get some footage on t’internet. Just don’t give the camera to He Who Shall Not Be Named.

Cheers, Edge

Viva Las Signalas

2008-02-03T21:42:00.000Z

Well… only five more sleeps now (plus ad-hoc naps) until The Signals play “the gig of the decade” on Friday night in Falkirk. As you can imagine, this weekend has seen a flurry of activity as I’ve struggled off the couch countless times (I know it was more than 23 because I ran out of fingers and toes) to shuffle over to the opposite wall, pick up my guitar, return to the couch, strum a while and then shuffle back to replace the guitar on its stand.

I also managed to leave the house for a bit earlier today to visit the eldest member of the band who was celebrating a birthday. Good manners and loyal friendship preclude me from revealing the exact age and identity of our stocky bass player but judging by the demolished smoke detector and charred kitchen ceiling, there were a “fair few” candles burning on the birthday cake this weekend.

To get myself acclimatised to the inevitable outpouring of adulation and gratitude that a “triumphant homecoming gig” is likely to generate, I purchased the local weekly paper – The Falkirk Herald – on Saturday for the first time in about 10 years to gauge the current temperature of the community. Surprised not to find a glossy, full-colour, 16-page, souvenir of “The Life & Times of The Signals” enclosed within, I made do instead with numerous lively snippets of local news covering all manner of subjects, clubs and societies… church meetings, classic cars, yoga, bowling, mountaineering, floral art, camera, Brownies, Rainbows, Girls Brigade, Rotary, RNLI, AA, RAC, KKK… you name it!

My very favourite though was for a group calling themselves the National Women’s Register. Their ad is as follows… (guys – I am not making this up.)

“This is a discussion group for lively minded women who meet in each other’s homes in Falkirk district on a Wednesday at 8pm. If you’re a woman with an inquiring mind, and like a chance to express yourself, then please phone Alison on 01324… for further details.”

My only question is this… how big must their homes be to accommodate EVERY WOMAN I’VE EVER MET… EVER in Falkirk district or elsewhere for that matter?

The discussion topic for the meeting this coming Wednesday is “Mexico: a land of great beauty, wealth and poverty”. And the ad concludes with the somewhat disturbing information that “the ladies will also be trying some Mexican food”. Even using my patented and very generous “Food Portions Calculator Thingy”™, that is a sh#tload of fajitas!

And finally, despite what I said earlier, Happy 44th Birthday Donald. Your pre-gig haircut was looking sharp today but I’d still recommend reconsidering the gay Elvis t-shirt and pork pie hat ensemble. Oh... and remember it's F# in 'Dream Catch Me' and B in 'Ballroom' and 'The One I Love'!!

Many Happy... etc.

2008-01-14T22:24:00.000Z

This blog is three years old today and quite frankly, I’m relieved that the “terrible twos” are over and done with. Many’s the time over the past twelve months when I’ve come home from work/job centre after a hard day’s graft/coffee-drinking to find the little bastard screaming his (he’s a ‘he’) head off at me for some attention when all I really want to do is lock him in the sound-proof basement, unplugged with nothing but his vivid imagination and the rats for company. (Never did me any h-h-h-harm when I was 2.)

It was easy in the early days after he was born when we both lived in the sun-kissed paradise of Key West, him getting fed every five hours or so and then sleeping and me getting fed every five hours or so and then sleeping. But now we’re in the darkest, coldest, wettest (seemingly) country in the world and I fear our carefree days of unbounded joy and innocence are long gone. Pretty soon he’ll be going off to school/coal mines to get an education/start paying his way so I guess I should cherish the happy days when I happen to stumble across them.

He’s too moody today to tell you himself so I’ll take a quick moment to thank anyone who’s ever dropped by this way for a quick read/completely by accident. Your loyal patronage/random visit is much appreciated even though I probably don’t know who you are due to my lack of knowledge regarding stat counters and RSS feeds and Beta video recorders and the like. And a special thanks to my good friend who sent me a text today prompting me to write this birthday message even though it goes against all of my better instincts to write TWO POSTS IN A WEEK!!!

Something For The Weekend 35

2008-01-11T00:05:00.000Z

Dear Dave,

How are you mate? Happy New Year… although how much does January suck?!?

Do you realise that it’s a year to the day (almost) since we started this insightful “Something For The…” feature after you accosted me in the pub demanding that I enrich your world with recommendations of a cultural nature, although I think your exact words were something like “Oi Edge... hic... gonnae writing do more by the way an’ aw tha’…” (If you want to check what was really said, you can click on your little pink name at the top of the page.)

Back in January ‘07, I was drifting through life wondering how much time I might have squandered on trivial things, how many opportunities I might have missed and not having an earthly clue about what I wanted to do or where I was going, but things have certainly changed since then. Now it’s 2008.

I’d love to tell you that I’ve planned an exciting weekend of museum visits and pizza sampling but I’m expecting a “package” to arrive from our “mutual friend” through the post tomorrow filled with some “creatively-acquired” dvd and cd outputage, so I think I might well be remaining ensconced in my pyjamas for the duration. Besides, I’ve got some serious guitar-pickin’ to practice since it’s only four short weeks now until The Signals make their “triumphant hometown return”, revisiting a pub called Behind The Wall on February 8th in our old home town of Falkirk. Triumphantly.

I’ll obviously be writing more nearer the time about what some pundits* are already calling “the gig of the decade” with behind the scenes snippets such as rehearsal gossip, tour dietary requirements and what the band might be wearing on the night. I don’t want to say too much just now but I can reveal than one band member** who plays the bass is considering the risqué ensemble of “gay Elvis t-shirt” and “pork-pie hat”. Let’s just hope he remembers trousers also.

And here’s an exclusive eavesdrop of sorts into the decadent shenanigans that the band get up to during rehearsals, pushing excesses to the limit and living every day like it might be their last. Yes, your eyes do not deceive you… that really is the entire rhythm section eating a hearty broth of winter vegetables WHILST IT’S STILL BOILING HOT! Rock ‘n roll!

So have a pleasant weekend Dave, avoid the inclement weather, cuddle up to someone close if you’re one of the lucky ones and I’ll catch up with you again soon.

Cheers, Edge

*Members of our family mainly.
**Not me!

Christmas Day Walk... Definitely Not Spoiled

2007-12-31T18:45:00.000Z

This is really just an excuse to try out a new camera I’ve had for a couple of months now but don’t have a clue how to operate properly. I thought I’d bought the cheapest and simplest in the range but when the User Manual came on a CD to incorporate all 153 pages of camera functionality, it’s then you realise that this is not exactly an Instamatic with the big square flash bulbs on top. Currently, I’m up to page 97 – “Troubleshooting how your Canon can crack NORAD’s missile launch codes”.

What better way to try it out then than to take a few photos on Christmas Day for the benefit of my golfing brothers, neither of whom managed the trek ‘home’ this Christmas to visit their loving parents. Sure… they’ll cite the usual excuses of “living 100s of miles away” or “living on an entirely different continent altogether” or even that old chestnut of “having a wife/small children/extended family obligations”. So it was left to me to make the arduous 50 mile drive to St. Andrews in the Kingdom of Fife to be showered with parental love and copious amounts of rolls and sausage. And wine. And beer. I think that’s called “taking one for the team”.

Anyway, for Stuart and Keith (and anyone else who’s interested in seeing what is going to be the most talked about new golf course in 2008) here are some photos of the latest addition to the landscape of St. Andrews - The Castle Course (opening June ’08) – sitting high on a cliff top overlooking the town and just across the road from my mummy and daddy’s house.

This first one is the fifth green, the nearest hole to the house, looking eastwards back down the fairway. If you think it looks a little hazy, that’s because the mist came rolling in from the sea at this point and my Dad and I stumbled around the next three holes narrowly avoiding falling off the cliff or singing ‘Mull of Kintyre’.

After a while the mist started to disappear to reveal the ninth fairway and green, shared with the 18th.

And this one is looking westwards back up the ninth fairway with the town in the distance.

At this point it got a little colder and we’d neglected to pack a hip flask in our sporrans so we didn’t bother walking the entire course. Here’s the view from the 15th tee…

And here’s the 18th fairway and green…

And here’s the view from the 18th tee (the green is a sharp dog-leg to the right and an awful long way away) where you stand dumbstruck and intimidated by the degree of difficulty and think to yourself… “we’re gonna need a bigger boat”… or some such thing.

And finally, here is the “signature” hole of The Castle Course – a 200+ yard par 3 with the green in the foreground and the tee way back up at the top of the hill. This is a scary tee shot, not only because of the distance and the prevailing wind in your face, but also because you have to carry the ball over the bay where far below sharks circle constantly with frickin’ laser beams on their heads, poised and ready to strike if you go a-lookin’ for any stray balls.

Don’t think there’s anywhere else in the world I’d rather go for a stroll on Christmas Day. Happy New Year…

or, if you’re in the States…

Happy NEW YearS (So why do you say ‘math’ instead of ‘maths’?)

The Big Chill

2007-12-23T16:09:00.000Z

It’s 1978. December. Snow is falling all around because these are the days before global warming when no-one headed off to school in the morning without a woolly hat with a bobble on the top, gloves connected by a huge long piece of elastic that went up each sleeve of your snorkel jacket and the warm, hazy, protective aura of a Ready-Brek breakfast. (This was a bit like using ‘The Force’ but without the need for lightsabers.)

Boney M are poised to become that year’s Christmas No.1 with their festive rendition of “Something About Mary’s Boy Child” and, despite investing in a pair of high fashion, top-of-the-line grey leather boots with little gold plates around the toes, I’m just about to be “chucked” for the third time by the same girl in the space of about five months. Good times.

During periods of emotional Christmas crisis then, there’s really only one thing a boy can turn his idle hands to in order to release pent up frustration and ease his restless soul… his Rubik’s cube. But since its invention is still another two years away, what he has to make do with instead is endless playing of his two Billy Joel albums and thoughts about who to send Christmas cards to.

I’d obviously shelled out a shed-load of hard-earned paper-round earnings on one of those horrible gaudy “padded” greeting cards for the girl who was just about to dust off her well rehearsed “it’s not you, it’s me…um… well actually it IS you” chucking speech, so I had few pennies left over for cards for other acquaintances; in fact I think I only wrote about half a dozen or so to my closest friends during a particularly boring Latin lesson. Or was it Potions?

Anyway, one of the lucky recipients was my good pal Allan “Big Al - The Kiddies Pal” Hendry and the card design I chose for him was that most festive of scenes – a mouse and a comedy elephant wearing a Santa hat.

“What an astonishingly good memory you must have Neil,” I can hear you exclaim in a rather high-pitched tone of incredulousnessiticity, but the reason I know this for a fact is because here below is the card of which I speak/type.

Allan, in that famous I’m-a-bit-of-a-cheapskate-so-wouldn’t-this-be-funny way of his, decided to send the card back to me the following year after making the necessary amendments to the text inside. Not to be outdone, I kept the card safe and went through the same exercise in December 1980... can you guess how this story ends? This year, after our annual panic stricken text messages about whose turn it is to send, the card dropped through my letter box last week after surviving its 30th annual sending through the Royal Mail.

As you can see, it’s not exactly in the best of health after having suffered at the hands of the business end of a lighted cigarette (that’s a nasty habit Allan!) and being patched up with yellowed sellotape. But we reckon there’s enough space on it for at least another 30 years of seasonal greetings at which point – if we’ve succumbed to the ravages of Whathisname’s Disease – we’ll probably be scrawling something like “To Thingmy, From Me, Happy Easter”.

So while all my faculties are still intact, Happy Christmas Allan and thanks for 30+ very funny years.

And a very Happy Christmas also to anyone reading this and I hope 2008 is peaceful, prosperous and safe for you and your loved ones.

N x