Fat Fakir

Heart of Gold. Nerves of Steel. Knob of Butter.

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Thursday 27th November

19:30

Just what the world needs....

...another Leeds United fan. But never mind, instead CONGRATULATIONS!!! to John & Sue on the birth of their baby daughter, Katy Jane, who arrived at 12:48pm today, weighing a healthy 7lbs 10 oz. Here's hoping she has Sue's looks. And Sue's fashion sense. And Sue's taste in music, etc. etc. I trust all your mates will be rushing online to Nippaz With Attitude to buy some gear for the new arrival. Or perhaps picking up a few CDs from Punk Rock Baby. Or perhaps not, but it does at least give me an excuse to trot these two old favourites out. I shall be celebrating the baby's arrival in the more traditional "wetting the baby's head" manner, although as this will coincide with another dismal Liverpool performance in Europe, I'd be drinking the beer anyway.

I see that details of the England Rugby team's victory parade have been released. The parade, on Monday 8th December, will sart at Marble Arch at noon and end at Trafalgar Square at 1pm. Well, it's a while since I've lived in London but, I'd be surprised if doesn't take nearly an hour to do that journey anyway, even allowing for Red Ken's Kongestion Charge having thinned out the traffic. Actually, if I remember rightly, there are a few decent pubs in and around the area. Hhm, I might have to see if I can get a cheap ticket down there so I can refresh my memory. Mind you, not only have I got a week or so to plan a trip to Londinium, so have any dedicated terrorists....

Go on, stick your oar in:

Sunday 23rd November

22:15

Cham-pee-oh-nez! Cham-pee-oh-nez!

Well, not quite the crushing victory that I had hoped for, although my predictions about the scrum were spot on. I was disappointed that England didn't score more points in the first half but I didn't think they were ever in danger of losing, despite Australia somehow managing to get back in the game in the second half. Andre Watson didn't have his best ever game as referee - he certainly looked like a bit of a "homer" after half time - but fortunately England were good enough to win despite that. It was a shame that they didn't get the tries that they deserved, but somehow that last-minute-of extra-time drop goal seemed an utterly appropriate way to win. It'll be interesting to see how many of the senior players decide to retire but, given the levels of fitness and conditioning that they have, virtually all of them could carry on for another couple of seasons at least. Oh yeah, and I confidently predict that it will be less than a week before some Welshman or other is claiming that because they outscored England by three tries to one in the quarter-final, the Welsh are actually the "moral" world champions. Which is, of course, absolute tosh, but I guess you have to seek comfort where you can find it. Anyway, bring on the Six Nations, I say! Gad, I'm almost inspired enough to start playing again. Almost.

Expletive-laced karate game anyone? That crazy guy at My New Fighting Technique Is Unstoppable has come up with a game based on the cartoon strip, that can be found here. The gameplay is a little basic but it's loaded with those ass-kicking karate phrases we all love so much, and is probably not work safe. You wouldn't want the boss reading over your shoulder, methinks.

I've been a bit puzzled over the last week or so by my new Fall CD, The Real New Fall LP formerly 'Country On The Click' The track listing seems to be at odds with the actual track order. Well, rather than this just being some sort of cunning Mark E Smith plan to confuse the listener, it turns out that the first batch of CDs was pressed (or burned or whatever) with tracks 6, 7 & 8 in the wrong order. So, Open The Boxoctosis #2 actually comes after Janet, Johnny & James and The Past #2 instead of before them as listed on the CD cover. I should, I suppose, be saving this CD for posterity and buying myself a corrected version to listen to, but somehow I doubt this is going to sell in large enough quantities to make that worth my while. Even my Aztec Camera single with two labels on it is probably going to be worth more....

Go on, stick your oar in:

Tuesday 18th November

22:30

"But if there's a flood, we'll all be saved."

Well, Saturday night might well have been alright for fighting, according to that there Sir Reginald of Dwight, but it's also a damn fine night for having a reunion with people that you haven't seen for fifteen years or so. Well, it was for me this weekend just gone. As part of the Nantwich Baptist Church 10000th Anniversary celebrations (or something) there was a reunion of alumni of their Friday night youth group, known as the YPF. This here Young People's Fellowship has been running for about 40 years, apparently, so alongside all my contemporaries there were people older than me and some younger. Scarily, children of my contemporaries were on hand to dish out soft drinks, serve the food, and, joy of joys, lead the singing after the meal. Anyway, it's a big HELLO to (deep breath) Ros, Lydia, Karen, Muzz, Ian, Adele, Chris, Tim, Mandy, Juliette, Rachel, Ellen, Steve, Pat and anyone else who heard me waffling on about this website and has decided to take a look. Feel free to use the comment mechanism-cum-link thing to leave me a message/some abuse. I've set up a small photogallery of old photos of some of those people (the ones I could find pictures of, basically), which you can find here. It was almost like the old days, except we didn't play volleyball beforehand, although some of us did slip away to the "library" to "take a few books out" at 10pm. Or rather, nipped off to the pub for a couple of swift ones before closing. It was nice to catch up with all the old faces, even though I felt a bit embarrassed to have to tell people that I'm unemployed, again. Still, the look on their faces when I told them I'd become an Internet Reverend more than made up for that. And luckily for me, Adele, Ian's wife, is a registrar, so if you fancy getting married by the Reverend Jim in Cheshire, I now know who to get to do all the official paperwork...

As I predicted a while back, the four semi-finalists for the Rugby World Cup were England, France, New Zealand and Australia. I take no credit for that - simply naming the four most consistently good rugby teams of the past few years is not rocket science. I did think South Africa might give New Zealand more of a game in the quarter-finals, but I didn't think they'd win. The two semi-finals this weekend were compelling viewing. In the first, Australia raised their game considerably to beat New Zealand, and in the second England rediscovered something of their earlier form in beating France. It's true that the rain was more to England's advantage, but I also think it was to Australia's advantage that the Kiwi forwards had given such a mighty effort against South Africa the previous weekend. Personally, I don't think Australia has the scrummaging power to match England for 80 minutes (thus speaks the man who only got into Grimsby's 4th team because they didn't have a 5th team....) and if Steve Thompson gets his throwing right, the Aussies shouldn't get a sniff at the lineout either. That said, they do have a potent back three, so England have to make sure that they don't get the chance to counter-attack too often. Mind you, I also think that Larkham and Flatley can be a bit suspect in defence, especially if the big men are charging at them, so expect England to attack down those channels. If you were to ask me now for a prediction, I'd say England by 10-15 points, but I'll settle for 3-nil win courtesy of a Johhny Wilkinson penalty in the last minute, thank you very much.

Go on, stick your oar in:

Thursday 13th November

19:20

Land of tolerant saints like me, with good word for everybody

I've been bad, and that's official. The Benefits Agency have stopped my Jobseekers Allowance for six days because I "failed to apply" for a job. Which might sound harsh but is as nothing compared to the original sixteen week sanction that they applied. Thankfully through the appeals process I was able to reduce that to six weeks initially and then to six days. I'm not entirely happy about that six day sanction but, having spoken to the appeals adjudicator, I don't think there's much chance of getting it reduced any further. Besides, I've already served the suspension.

The job that I failed to apply for was one that I found on the Jobcentre database (or Jobpoint as it's known), and was for a Job Club Leader for the company that was running my Job Club. I was interested, if only to find out how much they were paying the duffers. Anyway, whilst I was signing-on, I asked the lady on the other side of the counter to ring up for a job application for me, and that was where I made my fatal error. No one told me, but I was now virtually obligated to apply. Well, I got the full job description and application form and decided that I couldn't match my skills and experience to the job requirements, so I didn't apply and thought no more of it. Until I received notification that my benefits would be sanctioned till the end of January 2004, that is. Anyway, after much to-ing and fro-ing between me and the job centre and the appeals department things have now been resolved, although next time I find a likely opportunity on the Jobpoint, I'll make sure I do all my own legwork.

I've been celebrating this small victory of the dark forces of bureaucracy by splashing out (ooh-er, missus!) on some new CDs and a couple of videos. Well, it would have been rude not to buy the videos as HMV have a load on offer at 2 for £10. And to be honest, is it really worth paying almost four times as much for a DVD full of extras that you're only going to watch once or twice? I certainly don't think so, so was more than happy to pick up 8 Mile and Donnie Darko for a mere fiver each. Two excellent films for me to own forever for about the same price as seeing them once each in the cinema? It's got to be a bargain. In fact, I did wish I'd had a bit more cash on me as they also had Repo Man, Scarface, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Suzy Sucks Sweden IV on offer. Alright, that last one wasn't on special offer. Or in HMV.

The real reason for going into HMV in the first place though was to pick up the new Fall LP, or rather The Real New Fall LP formerly 'Country On The Click' as it's known. I have to say it was £12.99 well spent. Mark E Smith is on top form and backed by a band as good as any he's ever had. A big 'Freetime Thumbs Up' from me. I also bought The Soft Bulletin by The Flaming Lips as they were practically giving it away in the sale. It's a thing of beauty and contains some fantastic tunes, but is a little too melancholy and slow-paced for me to fall in love with it forever - I like my melancholia leavened with a little bit of upbeat pop. I was inspired to buy it because I happened to hear them do three songs on Janice Long's show on Radio Two the other night (Ego Tripping, Yoshimi Battles The Robots, and one whose title escapes me) and I remembered that my younger bro' said that Soft Bulletin was a better album. Actually, I suspect he might have told me that the album before Soft Bulletin was actually the best, but it was a long time ago and I can't remember too clearly. Anyway, it was still very much worth buying.

Does anyone round here remember Emu's Pink Windmill? No, it's not some bizarre sexual implement, but a children's TV programme that used to star Rod Hull & Emu and Grotbags the Witch. Rod and Emu used to live in a pink windmill (hence the title) and were constantly thwarting Grotbags plans to make everyone unhappy. Anyway, whenever the doorbell rang, Rod, Emu and the kids would form a conga line and dance towards the door chanting "There's somebody at the door. There's somebody at the door." I only mention this because lately the chant "There's nobody at the door" has become commonplace in my house. And why? Because when the kitchen light is switched on, the doorbell goes off. This was vaguely amusing when it happened occasionally, but now it happens EVERY BLEEDIN' TIME! A combination of cheap doorbell (from the Pound Shop in Mexborough) and bodged connection has led to this state of affairs. Heaven help anyone who tries to ring the doorbell at the exact moment the kitchen light is switched on - they'll be standing on the doorstep for a very long time waiting for anyone to answer the door...

Go on, stick your oar in:

Monday 10th November

00:50

On The Road with Jim Kerouac

The long hot days of summer had already begun to fade and the chill of a delayed autumn was descending on South Yorkshire when K came calling with his wild idea for a road trip. He had in mind to call in to a few quiet spots, charm the customers and then move on, and he was looking for a navigator. Too bad he picked a man who can't drive. On the other hand, he was guaranteed witty banter. Bored by the fruitless effort of applying for jobs and with work on my book stalled, I was enthused by the prospect of getting out of town for a couple of days and I decided to take up his offer.

I woke early on Wednesday morning, with a couple of hours to spare before K was due to pick me up. I decided to use the time to iron a few shirts and check on my e-mail. I figured I had plenty of time to do that and have a shower. I failed to account for the Dad factor. The old man seemed to be intent on annoying me personally by occupying the bathroom for more than a hour and quarter during the exact time I was reckoning on using it. Fortunately, he left me enough time for a quick shower and shave, but my mood was considerably dampened.

K arrived almost exactly on time and after a brief stop at the paper shop for essential supplies, we set off for the mean streets of Ripley. As we hit the motorway, K turned up the radio and sooon we were digging the crazy sounds of Ken Bruce. Man, that cat can rap. He was laying the smack down on the news like there was no tomorrow. And he was spinning the tunes that were just like us - very much in the middle of the road. It was a gas. We hit Ripley with time to spare and cruised the town looking for some action. There was none. While K went to do his thing - schmoozing the cats and charming the ladies - I checked out the papers. K blew back, having done the business and we rolled out of Ripley, heading for Measham and K's next gig. Funny how easy it is to get lost in a one-horse town. Time was still on our side, though, and we made our destination with plenty to spare despite some entertaining detours. K did the business with his usual aplomb and we blew out of there in time to get some lunch. We were looking for the Little Chef - we'd got some vouchers and that cat owed us a free lunch - but he was nowhere to be found. We ended up having to deal with the Burger King to get the necessary. Still, needs must when the Devil drives.

After lunching on a couple of greasy burgers and fries we headed west for the promised town of Birmingham. The district of Birmingham known as Smethwick, to be more accurate. We were on safer ground here - I had a reasonable knowledge of the town from my time there and I'd brought my A-Z just in case. We hit the outskirts of Birmingham late in the afternoon, just as the traffic was beginning to build. So we got off the expressway and took a short cut through Lozells. We ended up sliding right past the scenes of one of the best days of my life - The Hawthorns, where I once saw Crewe Alexandra beat West Bromwich Albion by five goals to nil. Ah, happy days. Anyway, once K had finished up his business in Smethwick, time was ticking by and we were both feeling tired and hungry. So we decided to go straight to Shirley to check into our hotel. We got caught up in the rush hour traffic and so the journey took longer than anticipated, and by the time we got there I was ready for a drink. Pausing only to freshen up after checking in, we hit the main drag in Shirley. And went into both pubs. We had a look in a few of the shops, although they were mostly closed. We ate dinner in the Saracen's Head, dining well on mixed grills. While we were eating the C-Man popped in to say hello. He didn't stop long as he had a pressing engagement elsewhere. Besides, we were already well on our way to being drunk. As we reached the limits of our alcohol tolerance, we retired for the night, in order to be fresh for the second leg of our road trip the following day.

Thursday dawned grey and dull. Truly autumn was now upon us and the icy blasts of winter will surely follow soon. Plus my head was a bit sore. Skipping the "delights" of breakfast we dressed and headed back out to the strip. K needed to pick up some souvenirs for the family and I was on the look out for some cheap tat. Both our needs were satisfied in the Pound Shop. K picked up some toys and I got a mini-radio and a set of juggling balls, all for a pound each. And for those who might want to get a bit kinky, but not spend a lot of money, the shop also had two sorts of handcuffs and whips in stock, again at a pound each. I wish I'd bought some now.

Leaving the world's cheapest S&M store behind, we set off for the wooly wilds of Coventry. Home of the Specials and apparently in possession of a mighty fine City Centre ring road. We don't know, as our encounter with the outskirts of Coventry was enough for us. Admittedly I made the rookie mistake of sending K off to the right on a roundabout rather than the left, but I managed to get us back on track. We found the venue and K went in to do his stuff. I chilled in the car, listening to Ken Bruce and doing the crossword.

On his return, K and I set off for the frozen north of Sheffield, resolving that this time we would find Little Chef and get our free meal. We ad to go off the beaten track and probably drove further than was strictly necessary, but by 12 o'clock we had tracked down our prey. Wolfing down the all-day "Olympic" breakfast we started to feel human again. As we were slowly sobering up and having plenty of time to kill, we took it easy as we trundled up the M1. We hit Sheffield with about an hour to spare. And then got lost. Not totally lost - we were roughly in the vicinity of our destination - but unable to find that last gig. A couple of calls home and some vague directions from the old man got us pretty close to where we needed to be at. The K-ster finished up his last bit of business and that was it we off back home. The road trip was virtually over. There was still time for some of my infamously vague directions but even these didn't really delay us. K dropped me off at home and headed off to the bosom of his family. The road trip was finally over. It was time for me to settle back into the routine, dreaming of the day the road will call me back again....

Go on, stick your oar in:

Tuesday 4th November

19:00

"It's quiet today, maybe too quiet."

Well, the nephews have returned home taking their sound and energy with them. After the joy of a relatively quiet Halloween, we went to the firework display and funfair at the Earth Centre on Saturday night. They enjoyed the funfair, especially the stalls that offered a "prize every time", allowing them to accumulate a stack of stuffed toys and plastic tat. They also saw one of the best firework displays, I've seen in a long time. Set to the story of Snow White, interspersed with musical passages, it was a brilliantly staged display, which climaxed which a stunning series of intertwined starbursts. Very impressive. The kids thoroughly enjoyed it. Then on Sunday we all went out for lunch, before the nephews headed off home. Once they'd gone, I revelled in the peace and quiet in the house and fell asleep in front of the telly. However, on Monday morning the house seemed strangely empty and the day felt rather flat. Still, it's only a couple of months till Christmas and they'll be here again, waking me up at some ungodly hour and asking for sweets or if they can have a go on the Playstation....

Nobody uses the phrase "political correctness gone mad" in this news story, but I'm surprised that the play's author hasn't. Mind you, his portrayal of asylum seekers as unwashed, dole cheats is particularly odious, but then I suspect that the closest most of Okehampton has ever got to an asylum seeker is seeing a picture of one in the Daily Mail.

Elf-based game for Christmas, anyone? You might have already seen this one but I hadn't till today. Obviously, I found the name of it mildly amusing (my dad's name is Frank), but it is also diverting fun for about ten minutes. Perfect for those of you with limited lunchtime access to the Internet, for example.

And thinking of limited lunchtimes, anybody in Cambridge a week on Thursday, might consider taking some time out to see Michael Moore, who's making a promotional visit in support of his new book. He's doing a brief tour, so if he's sold out in Cambridge, you might be able to catch him elsewhere. See here for more details.

Go on, stick your oar in: