No Way! Norway!

On Friday I called back to Rotherham from York to go and see Electric Wizard in Manchester. You work out the logistics for this journey yourself... They, Electric Wizard were great and the first band Xela was a noise core thingy. Basically some guy with a load of distortion pedals and feedback. Now, I find this kind of stuff quite interesting, but I'm never sure what power it has when 'performed' live. I like the 'band' Tenhornedbeast, but I wouldn't want to listen to his stuff in a room surrounded by other beardies stroking their chins and saying things like 'Hmmm, I like how he changed the pitch ever so slightly there...' I think this kind of thing should stay in the house. The journey there and back was dominated by myself and Carl having a two hour discussion on why he shouldn't believe everything he reads and sees on the Internet to do with the vast Global Conspiracy Theory of the New World Order. I love Carl to bits but he falls hook line and sinker for anything that stands against modern society. I was kind of playing Devil's advocate and winding him up, but when I suggested he get an allotment to grow his own food so the government couldn't poison him with 'toxins', he dismissed it out of hand saying it would get trashed by the local scumbags. I told him to get one in a nicer area which he dismissed because he would have to walk half an hour to reach. I don't know why that is such a problem for him it's not like he does anything else all day except smoke dope and watch documentaries on the Bilderburg Group.

Fight the New World Order, get an allotment!

After being woken up at some ungodly hour on Saturday morning by my parents setting off fireworks, by the sounds of it. I dragged myself out for the traumatic experience of getting a hair cut. I hate haircuts; I never know what I want or what looks good on my head, it's like a fashion blind spot for me. I'm not the most fashion conscience anyway so this is like a minefield. But what I really hate is that I have to take my glasses off whilst the barber goes at me. I am as blind as a mole so all I can do is sit there with my eyes spinning in their sockets trying to focus on something and hope to God they are doing a good job. There was once a traumatic experience in York when I asked for 'a little off the back and sides' and ended up with a massive pudding bowl that ran all around my head. I looked like the Beatles when they were playing clubs in Hamburg. In this instance I paid for the butchery, ran down to Argos, bought a set of clippers and ran to Ross' place and asked him to shave it all off, eliminating the horror. I usually shave it all off but I've been growing it back since Christ's Mass and it needed treating properly, so I had to suffer the humiliation of asking the very nice lady to do 'what she could with it'. In the event is was quick, cheap and looks better than I could have done it myself.

I knew I should have been worried when I saw this boy coming out of the Barbers before me...

Now, onto the event of the year, the culmination of the Musical calender, the brightest stars of instrumentation that Europe has to offer... The Eurovision Song Contest! Lauren threw a party in honour of it. It was excellent, there was a whole bunch of us there and loads of food and booze, just like a good Eurovision party should be! I love Eurovision night so much as it is the only night you can be incredibly racist and get away with it. I mean what other night can you spend the evening screaming 'Cheese eating surrender monkeys' at the French contestant or laughing at the Moldavian gypsies with their loud 1980's clothes and beetroot juice smeared faces. It's not every day you get to shout 'who won the fucking war?' at the German entry or pour scorn on a whole host of wops, dagos, bog trotters, commies, grease balls, ice monkeys or babuskas without repercussion. The funniest thing I heard all night was when the British entrant was performing, Jaime texted me with 'this jade's got hair'. In the event, I always support Norway, it's that whole Black Metal thing. They have done me proud over the years and this year was no exception. We all chucked some cash into a pot and picked a country, who's ever country came top got the pot. It just so happens this year Norway won, so I scooped myself a tasty £35! Which was all quickly spent in the Corporation after the party...

There were no wars in the Middle East this year, so even Jemini could have scored more than Nil Points in this years Eurovision...