Lost Clothes

Looking over photos from a year ago I can always pick out clothes that I no longer have. I don't know how or why I no longer have said articles of clothing. They aren't in the washing basket, in the cupboard, under the bed, in a draw and I'm not currently wearing them under my other clothes. So where are they?


I have come to the conclusion that I must be a sleep walking super hero. Its obvious. I run to the nearest phone booth in my sleep and shed ever garment I own to return home in my Super Man underwear or something cos that's all I now own and that's all I can now find to wear.


I wouldn't mind if I knew that I'd given them to charity or to a good cause but I don't think I have. Maybe there is a guy somewhere in London looking remarkably trendy in my old cheese-cloth shirt or a fella wearing my grey vest looking like one sexy mofo.


If you do spot someone who looks too good to be true then let me know. I want my clothes back!


No clothes - no peace of mind.

Top 5 Things Of My Yesterday

Number 1.

Kanye West's 808 & Heartbreak.

Serving suggestions: take your peace and quiet and mix it up with a large dose of volume. Turn your iPod to stun and play starting from track one. Finish up on track 12 which is the live bonus one. Serves up to everyone who likes dance fusion hip hop with an R&B flavour.

For those who like Jean Michael Jarre you are on to a winner. For those who like Gold Digger - less so. Pretty "arty". Less Gucci more Gauguin.

I must admit that I liked it substantially more than I expected I would. Highlights would have to be Robo Cop and See You In My Nightmare featuring the man of the hour Lil' Wayne.

Number 2.

Beef jerky.

That stuff rocks. Meat flavoured chewing gum. Who ever thought putting raw meat out in the sun to dry was a good idea was pretty brave but a serious genius. Be it original, peppered or chili - put it in me!

Does anyone else ever feel odd drinking milk? As in " this stuff is great on cereal but really it hasn't come from Tesco its actually freshly squeezed cow juice"?

Number 3.

Taxi drivers.

I refuse to buy guide books and I don't need to. Yesterday's chaufeur in Chester gave me the grand tour charging only for the travel - all local knowledge imparted was free. According to him "Chester is the only city in the UK with an amphitheatre or some shit. They performed on the ground level with seats going up like or some shit. Fightin! Yeah fightin'. They done fightin' like down there." Manly buddy, very manly.

Noble taxi drivers nation wide I salute you.

Number 4.

Daft Punk's Discovery.

Forgotten classic. Get back on it if you have it, but if you haven't then get it. Complements 808 like beans complement chips.

Number 5.

Reading. (as in books - not the place cos the place is an actual hole)

Books are great. I hope that I won't ever have to read from a digital book or have everything online or some guff. Internet and computers are pretty cool - have you seen the Matrix? - but books is books. How wicked is a library!? Mega wicked. Also Waterstones is like a day trip but in shop form. If I had one wish it was that I had more time to read.

I would defo read a book written by a taxi driver.

Read my lips - P.E.A.C.E.

Gym - de-stress? Well stressed!!

I consider myself to be a pretty serious gym goer. You know the type. I bring my own gym gloves and my own look of steely determination. It drives away the red mists of rage keeping me both sane in the membrane and sane in the brain. I like to consider myself a “gym guy” most mornings. You know, the guy who looks like he deserves to be there gurning nonchalantly at his own reflection in the big mirrors at the end.

The other day mid way through the gun show, my gym nemesis shows up. This fella rocks in at 4ft 2 with a black cap and makes more noise than your average house party on acid. I had my Arnie from True Lies face on, so you knew I meant business and I was in the zone. BANG!! BOOM!!! CLANG!!!! Ruined. All of it. My chi was de-centred. The Lone Clanger had struck again.

You don’t come into my gym and disrupt my vibe yeah. This morning sanctuary is where I get ready for the day my way at one with my thoughts. It is a place of learning. I will school him. You don’t rave in a library. This is like a library. I’m a freakin' librarian people! I suggest you check the dewy decimal system and look up a book on self control. It’s right next to the book called Volume Control by R. U. Listening cos I will knock you out punk.

The Boom Town Rat was warned by my scornful eye what gazed at him in disgust. It spoke to him in dead languages unheard since Thor first struck his hammer in the Halls of Valhalla. Psalms of fear were sung on whispers in the air. He knew his place. Biatch.


Or so I thought! He was at it again in minutes. Not cool Cappy. Not cool.

But I gave him my look. It was a good look right? I try it to myself in the mirror and shiver.

But still he bangs.

Maybe I’m not the “gym guy”. Maybe I’m that guy who looks out of place and slightly effeminate. Maybe I don’t deserve my own gloves. No tough guy, don’t let the self-doubt creep in! Keep it out like the plague that it is! Don’t let the vermin in (they remain gnawing at the wood framed door to my mind. . .) Come on, you’re the man! Reach over the top! Feel the burn! Embrace the wall! Maximise the pain!

But it’s no use. That over sized kid has made this his place. It’s no longer my library of peace and solitude, it’s his Fun House. Look at him giving Pat Sharpe a high five. I hate Pat Sharpe. And I hate Noel Edmonds cos half the time I think he did Fun House.

From now on it’s a different tact for me. God invented the iPod for a reason. NWA give me peace.

Brick Lane Art

Brick Lane - one of London's most famous art and fashion districts continues to impress passers by with its ever changing street art. This week I think I should highlight three of the main pieces that caught my eye.

The first is a massively simple stencil graffiti of a toaster. Simple yet stylees.

The second is a fantastically detailed spray can stencil piece. Much more detailed and very intricate.

The third was more of a thinking piece. At first I couldn't tell if it was a tramp's mobility unit or the latest Skoda concept car. There wasn't a tramp in sight (very uncharacteristic for Brick Lane) and it didn't have a car badge so I guessed it must be art.

Consulting my art student friend I was informed that it was a statement highlighting the plight of modern London in the current economic turmoil that has affected us all. It shows how big business (the office chair) is now in the hands of the consumer (the shopping trolley). The bankers and the powers that be can't revive the country without the "everyman" driving them forward and continuing to buy buy buy. It is particularly symbolic that the office chair is dismantled. Very deep.

Much to my disappointment, yesterday I couldn't find it to show my other artistic friend. Either its been stolen or sold for millions.

I heart art. What a master peace.

A Priest walks into a bar . . .

It disturbs me that every time a man of the cloth - religious type not haberdasher - is in the news these days its because they have ended up in court or jail or hospital.

Reading an article about a Vicar who mysteriously fell upon a potato whilst cleaning was the highlight of my last Friday. The fact he happened to be naked was what made me chortle. Mr Potato Head ended up in his Garden of Eden. He must have loved it! The potato that is. I'm surprised it didn't take root. The fact is the Vicar of Spuddley is a Vicar and surely there must be rules stopping these sorts of things. Everyone knows that even Vicars have to obey health and safety whilst polishing the silverware. To the best of my knowledge there isn't an actual verse in the Bible forbidding these acts of passion. He hardly picked the forbidden apple from the Tree of Life, but it never the less does seem to go against God in some way. Maybe we need to update the Bible to make it more relevant for modern man: Commandment number 11 - thou shallst not derive relish nor fruition in conjunction with tuberous crops. Commandment number 12 - that goes the same for Henry the Hoover you cheeky monkey sod.

It isn't like I spend my life on some sort of Holy Crusade to find Bishops in bondage gear or Cardinals creating carnage but I did stumble across the story of a Priest on the run from the law this very morning. A Priest on the run!! It sounds absurd. But then to hear why he was fleeing the fuzz took the biscuit. He was a bigamist. Now we all know God said unto us all - thou shalt not shack up with 2 ladies at once. He put it so clearly in the Bible: a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

I guess the only saving grace is that there aren't more Catholics in Britain . . .

A minister, a priest and a rabbi went for a hike one day. It was very hot. They were sweating and exhausted when they came upon a small lake. Since it was fairly secluded, they took off all their clothes and jumped in the water. Feeling refreshed, the trio decided to pick a few berries while enjoying their "freedom." As they were crossing an open area, who should come along but a group of ladies from town. Unable to get to their clothes in time,the minister and the priest covered their privates and the rabbi covered his face while they ran for cover. After the ladies left and the men got their clothes back on, the minister and the priest asked the rabbi why he covered his face rather than his privates. The rabbi replied, "I don't know about you, but in MY congregation, it's my face they would recognise."

Priest what give me the creeps - peace

Kanye West - Believe the hype

London, England. Mr West graces the city's premier venue with the first leg of his Glow In The Dark Tour.

Boom - flashing lights, lights, lights...

There is no doubt in any mind present or in the process of being blown well and truly away that Kanye is a performer. Not just a rapper, or singer, or musician. An Entertainer. A true Performer. Heck I'm gonna say it - one of the greatest performers out there.

Even as a one man whirlwind - dodging flames, darting through light shows and riding a spaceship - you would be hard pressed to see more precision in an act. Building the show up slowly, obviously aware that the foundations laid by supporting acts Mr Hudson and Santo Gold were seriously shaky, he layered classic on top of classic. A third of the way through his set Gold Digger got every person with the use of their legs up and dancing and every person with the power of speech singing.

From that point onward you would have thought things would have gone down hill, but track after track was a classic. It would be easy to forgotten how many massive hits Kanye has unleashed on the world. For me that made rediscovering them last night even more exciting.

At one point a voice over referred to him as "the biggest star in the Galaxy" which may seem far fetched to many - but after a night in his company at the O2 you would struggle to argue against the fact that he is a global phenomenon and until we find life on Mars I would have to say Galaxy wide too.

Ending the night with the surprise appearance of Estelle for their duet American Boy you suddenly realise that an entire auditorium has been entirely captivated for the last 2 hours by one single little fella bouncing on stage. By the sounds of things he had a good time doing what he was doing and from the reaction of the crowd we all enjoyed it just as much.

Kanye West - increase the peace

Blue Food. How High? Cake High.

Is it possible to get high from cake? If so - then man I am messed up.

Earlier today I had a chunk of Thomas the Tank Engine birthday cake. Thomas is blue - so the icing is blue too. You see if the icing was green or something then it wouldn't be Thomas would it? It would be Percy or maybe Trevor. But no, this cake was Blue man. Blue like blue stuff which stays blue for like forever. Deep. Yeah like deep blue. . . Trippy.

In nature the most natural of natures naturality is blue. Like air is blue and the sky. Water is blue, blue birds are blue. Its all nature man. But there aren't blue foods.

All blue foods we see today are created by the hands of dudekind. We use colourings of artificiality . These colourings are un-natural. Apache Indians would never eat blue smarties.

The only way to get natural blue foods would be to use sfreshly squashed Smurf. I haven't seen Smurfs in the wild for ages. Untill we find a sustainable source of farmable Smurfs innnocent people like myself will continue to struggle with the come downs of blue cake.

Peace of cake.

Digger vs Dump Truck

As a child I was never fond of race cars. They were fast - I was not. They were red - I hate red. They were flashy - I wore blue glasses for educational purposes.

Diggers, dump trucks and 4X4s is where it was at. Vrooooom just couldn't compare with VVRRRUUUUUMMMMM.

Now as an "adult" I still get all excited seeing diggers and dump trucks. A warm sense of comfort from being in their presence. But I want to know which is better? What would I rather be? A digger or a dump truck?

Diggers move with the grace of a ballerina directed by the symphony conductor disguised as a foreman. Each movement cutting into the earth like a surgeon's knife with precision and purpose. Yellow like fire flickering back and forth in a well stoked hearth. Busy yet not rushed you could say. They move me to write a haiku;

Digging the earth in eternal toil, flowing bold movements, you are well yellow.

If I was a digger I would be called Laurence or Victor for they are good names for a digger.

But then we see the silent partner, the unsung hero. The Yin to Victor's Yang - the dump truck. He does not wish to stand out. He is happy to go unnoticed even though he sits the size of a house waiting controlled and measured. With such power and strength it could cause havoc but it is a peaceful creature. It sits content by fields whilst other rush about. Nonchalant it shrugs off the praise and the gasps of amazement as it carries many tons of the Earth's darkest flesh upon its back. It is a noble creature. A dump truck would make a good husband I think. The dump truck would feel flattered by a haiku but would think it rather unnecessary. I will respect its wishes and not write one.

Dump trucks are called Roger or Bernard. If I was a dump truck I would be called George.

I think I prefer dump trucks. If your listening - I know what I want from Santa this year.

God bless us every one. Peace

Go Team USA!!!

Read all about it!! The American Elections are upon us!!

As nations separated by 8 hours of flight why in the world do we care so much about this Barack Obama / John McCain battle? One guy sounds like Mr T from the A Team and the other is a Die Hard oven chip. If Germany was having an election no one would have a clue who was running and they're the ones to keep an eye on if history has taught us anything.

It isn't even a question of the UK being affected or effected (or possibly both) by these elections as the potential shifting of the tectonic political plates looms ahead but are we taking a far too unhealthy interest in the undertakings of that barbaric nation? I guess it would be a big deal if they actually pick a black guy to run the country - though I was hoping it would be Will Smith to get the chance to be the first black President. He's done enough for that country in my opinion.

Who will win the right to be crowned President (is it even called "crowned"??)? Will McCain be getting his post redelivered to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue? Has Obama clinched the deciding votes? I don't really care, as long as they keep exporting Mexican food.

Viva Mexico and world peace.

Halloween - the down fall of Britain

Has anyone else noticed that all trick-or-treaters are pikies and chavs?

What America has given us with Halloween is a way to train children in the art of asking for things for free. Children don't deserve sweets because they are dressed as little rot bags. No-one deserves anything for free.

Think about it this way when you get a knock on your door - whatever you give that child, you push an eighteen year old version of them one step closer to the dole que.

Well keep on giving them bon bons and they'll get their scratching hand ready for the old giro.

Don't give kids sweets - give them a peace of your mind.