Farewell, Phantom Dan

Danny Federici
January 23, 1950 – April 17, 2008

(Q - (F + D)) + PR

Got my tickets booked for (Queen - (Freddie + Deacy)) + Paul Rodgers at the Glasgow SECC in October. So that's Queen and Springsteen within a six-month period. Not bad, huh? Now, if we can just get the Beatles back together...

Oooooh.

Does this work outside of the UK?

C-Lebrity

Once you get used to the fact that it's Queen + Paul Rodgers*, this is quite promising for the new album...



* More accurately, it's (Queen - (Freddie + Deacy) ) + Paul Rodgers.

Not Long Now

I'm not sure it's healthy to be this excited, but I can't help it...

Britain's Got Talent

You won't find much evidence to support that statement on the TV show of that name, or on The X Factor, or any of those other godawful shows.

But on YouTube - which, as I think we can all agree, is largely filled with crap - it's occasionally possible to unearth a real gem. This, I believe, is a case in point.

Absolutely the last Testicle Game post ever*

I know, I promised I wouldn't do any more of these. But this afternoon I saw Annie Lennox on TV, and it came to me...

Eurythmics: There Must Be an Angel (Playing With My Testicle)**.

* Probably.
**Which - I guess - means I have to allow the Regina Spektor one after all. It's only fair.

It's About Time

I have a good feeling about this...

Round Two

I forgot this one*.

Queen: Sheer Testicle Attack

Talking of Queen...

*I'm not going to do any more of these, I promise.

The Testicle Game

Ignore the following unless drunk.

I invented a new game today. Think of a song with the word 'Heart' in the title. Then replace 'Heart' with 'Testicle'. Take it in turns to come up with song titles, and the winner is whoever comes up with the title that gets the biggest laugh.

To play this game, you will need the following:

Lots of alcohol. Er, that's it.

Here are a few possibilities:

Yes: Owner of a Lonely Testicle
Bonnie Tyler: Total Eclipse of the Testicle
Billy Ray Cyrus: Achy Breaky Testicle
Elvis Presley: Wooden Testicle
Blondie: Testicle of Glass

but tonight's runaway winner, by virtue of being simultaneously funny and slightly sinister:

My Testicle Belongs to Daddy

I'm really, really sorry about all of this

Diary

Whilst rooting around in a drawer this afternoon, I found the diaries I kept while I was in prison. I always had the idea at the back of mind that one day I might put them into the form of a blog. Today, I started.

Random

For no reason other than 'I like lists', here is a list of the first 10 songs I heard when I put my iPod on random earlier today.

1. Ryan* Adams - Gonna Make You Love Me
2. Michael Jackson - People Make The World Go 'Round
3. Queen - In the Lap of the Gods
4. The Tears - Fallen Idol
5. Daniel Lanois - Sometimes
6. Beatles - Paperback Writer
7. Queen - The Miracle
8. Bruce Springsteen - Downbound Train
9. Emmylou Harris - Michelangelo
10. Crowded House - Distant Sun

That's about a 90% accurate reflection of my musical tastes - not bad for 'random'.

* Ryan. Not Bryan.

Oopsy

Note to self: If you will insist on talking about people behind their back (and apparently you will), first make the effort to ensure that they are not standing behind your back at the time.

Revenge

Call me twisted, but this is the funniest thing I've seen in ages.

Weekend Update

A Saturday night in the pub, and the staff outnumber the customers. It must be the end of January. Last night there were three of us sitting at the bar, and for quite a long time, that was it. A tumbleweed blowing across the floor would not have looked out of place.

Other weekend stuff... I watched the Sweeney Todd movie. Johhny Depp has moved on from his Pirates impersonation of Keith Richards, so now we get his David Bowie impersonation. Great movie though, even managing to overcome my mild aversion to musicals. I say 'mild aversion'. Generally, I'd rather plunge a fork into my left testicle than watch a musical.

And another thing. I'm sure those nice people* at HM Revenue & Customs deliberately send out their 'requests' for money at the end of the working week, in order that they will arrive on your doorstep on a Saturday morning when you can't do anything about it, such as phone them to complain. Bastards.

* Bastards. Did I say that already?

In The Red

Now, I wouldn't normally go plugging a book that I haven't even read yet. And I haven't read this one yet. I've had a quick skim through it, and my mum assures me that it's very good. But then, she thinks River City is good, so perhaps her judgment is not entirely trustworthy.

The reason I mention the book is that, well, it's not every day a book is published wherein some of the characters are real people who you actually know. In real life. Albeit with names changed to protect the innocent, or otherwise.

The book is basically the author's diary of a year spent trying to clamber down from a mountain of debt. Along the way, there are mentions of her cousin Verity and Verity's partner Stuart.

Stuart (not his real name) is in fact, one of my colleagues (and best friend) from work. And the incident recounted in the book where 'Stuart' inadvertently exposes himself to a neighbour - who just happens to be a famous Scottish rock musician* - is completely true. I am reliably informed.

* I dare not say which famous Scottish rock musician. But there aren't that many who still live in Scotland, and are still making records, and are known outside of Scotland. Feel free to take a guess at it.

I am Bell-End

I enjoyed the movie I Am Legend today. Despite the use of generally unconvincing CGI effects this was still a corking good film. Will Smith was great - outacted by a dog, but still great. There was a neat touch right at the start of the movie, by the way of the name of the doctor who claimed to have found a cure for cancer. I won't spoil it for you.

Also, take a look (and listen) at this.

Happy New Year

I hope that 2008 brings you health, happiness and anything else you might wish for yourself. But mostly, I hope it brings you - and me, and everyone else - peace.

The Five Songs of Christmas

Yeah, I know. Ideally it would be twelve - but I can't think of twelve Christmas songs that I can hear without wanting to punch somebody in the face. Five, I can just about manage.

If I'm honest, this first one is only here for comedy value, and the impressive feat of incorporating 'subtle' references to 'bell end' and 'ringpiece' into a Christmas song.



And I don't care what anyone says, this is still the best band in the world. I can't wait to see them again in May next year. Tickets are booked.



And I'll let the next three speak for themselves. Merry Christmas.

iWant

Curse you, Steve Jobs and all your satanic Apple minions. I didn't even want one of your iPhones until I saw your damn TV ads today. It's not as if I need one - after all, I already have a phone* and an iPod** - but I want it, dammit. When those ads appeared on the screen, it was all I could do to stop myself from having a quick fiddle with myself, such was my level of lusty desire.

Er, I think I'm going to leave that there.

In other news, I started - and finished - my Christmas shopping this afternoon. I had the whole lot done and dusted in under thirty minutes. And that's including the ten-minute wait at the perfume counter.

What else...? Oh yeah. I'm using my time off to indulge myself in what I like to refer to as Whofest 07 (and possibly 08). I've been downloading and watching all the Tom Baker-era episodes of Doctor Who. Still got loads to watch, but I'm getting through them pretty rapidly. Tomorrow: The Talons of Weng Chiang.

* One of those Motorola RAZR jobbies. A triumph of aesthetics over 'making something that actually works properly'.
** I love my iPod. We are quite inseperable.