Here comes the panzer attack!
Well Friday afternoon was spent in the old black bull saying ta-ra to John and Dave from work. John has taken an internal transfer to JSF, which seems to be the place where all the keen nimrodders seem to end up. Dave has taken the rather more exciting decision to go and work in Italy. Which is nice. Me, I’m going to work in Canada but more on that later…
Anyway it was a nice afternoon spent drinking booze, playing pool and the like. There was quite a good turnout as well and I learned some rather interesting things from drunken work colleagues.
I had to rush off early before the pissheads started dancing for young ladies as we were going to see The Music in Blackpool. They were really good again, playing virtually all-old stuff. I find it a bit annoying when you go to see a band who have a new album out soon, who think they should then play you all their new stuff. I understand why they do it but they are in the entertainment business and shouldn’t be too resentful of churning out their best-loved songs. I thought that The Music would probably have some new songs in the pipeline but if they have, they are still under wraps. The whole place seemed to jump up and down on Friday when they played Getaway. The winter gardens is a very fancy place for a gig, its kinda cool hearing really loud music in a hall with a fancy ceiling. Then again, it being in Blackpool, the ceiling is probably made out of some carcinogenic material. Like candyfloss.
On Saturday we went for an amble around the park and then made a trip into town. And got pissing wet. A new record shop has opened up on Friargate selling mainly old vinyl. We had a quick look and I found some bargains in the small tape bit. As well as picking up three manics singles on cassette single to push me a little bit nearer to completing the set (I’m still miles away though), I found the Drill EP by Radiohead. I was amazed to see it on sale for three quid, as this was Radioheads first release back in 1992. Result!
After spending late Saturday afternoon watching the footy results in despair and reading the Grauniad like we do every week; we took the rather annoyingly long trip to Lancaster to watch Bowling For Columbine.
It’s cool that Lancaster has this arty theatre playing the sort of films you don’t get on at UCI or Warners and I’m sure we’d go quite often if it was just round the corner from home. I thought it was a really good film / documentary, it had some lazy conspiracy theories as to what caused Columbine and went up some blind alleys but with subject matter like that, it shouldn’t all be about agreeing with what Michael Moore has to say. It should be about saying “yeah, I agree with that” or thinking about your own ideas on a particular subject, there seemed to be quite a few people there who were just going to believe everything Michael Moore had to say – I mean he’s intelligent right? – And use this as some sort of intellectual stamp of authority. Is there any need to try and pre-empt things Moore was about to say to prove how clued up you were to the people sat around you in the cinema? And then to clap loudly at the end whilst stroking your intellectual beard? No there isn’t.
Then again I guess an alternative cinema is bound to attract people revelling in their own perceived wisdom.
Preston is increasingly become full of people like this. Well, their younger cousins anyway. Jesus, this is rapidly becoming my pet hate, I’d better change subject or else we’ll all be in trouble…
It did make Canada seem like a cool place to live though, better than this twatmouth I live in. Final point on the film – why do American films showing football violence use footage of the Hillsborough disaster? I find it upsetting that this is the perceived idea of the disaster by Americans. Bowling For Columbine used a quick shot of the tragedy, as did Gladiator on its DVD extras. Somebody I feel should actually do their research better.
On Sunday there was some more lazing and then a brief flurry of tidying up. I polished the floor, making it once again a bit of a death trap. I’d better avoid carrying any ming dynasty vases or newborn brittle-headed babies across the floor for a while. We then went to watch X2 which was alright although a bit long. It seemed to feel the need to give every character a chance which just pushed the running time up and up. I don’t know, I guess I want action films to give me the same sort of buzz like the last Lord of The Rings film did. It was okay but will not live as long in my memory as the cheesy nachos I had in the cinema. Which is a bad thing. Still it was better than the first one which I thought was fucking shit.
Monday was a bank holiday. Free day off. More ambling, more shopping, more lazing. All the things which make bank holidays an extra Sunday. We had a nice drink in The Sun which reassuringly still smells like slightly moist tramps.

Today I’m back at work, seeing the same old bored faces looking back at my equally uninterested fizzog. After scraping the mould out of my cup, I’ve made a cup of tea. That’s an achievement. I’ve had to use coffee-mate though as we have no milk so it tastes revolting. Undrinkable tea, the sound of Blue Jam in my ears and the sight of the boss with his head in his hands. What a gay day!