Part 3

Dorothea and Tadgh's wedding was alot of fun, and particularly loose. I don't remember much of if but (unfortunately) my Mum snapped alot of photos of me looking like a penguin and strutting (or what not) on the dance floor. Those to come later.

At 4am I woke up on Sunday morning to get to the airport and fly to Manchester to meet Cal, Luke and Evan at Creamfields. Everything is going pretty smoothly until I get out of the cab at the wrong campsite ("Nah mate, this is where you wanna be for sure. 10 quid, please."). It takes about an hour for me and Cal to realise I'm at the wrong place, and the only way to get to the Southside Campsite is to walk something like 5 or 6 miles. I walk alot at home so the distance dosen't bother me but there is very little signage, and all the people they have doing security are muppets. At least 2 of them sent me back in the other direction when I asked for the 'Southside Campsite', sending me back to the other entrance where they wont let me in. I snag my arm on a barb wire fence somewhere (only got my favourite T shirt, not my skin), I lose a leather wrist band, my shoes fill with mud etc. etc. Anyway, it takes about 4 hours to get to the guys, and only because Cal drives out of the campsite to pick me up.




From here on in the day is great. I get very few photos of Creamfields, but the pictures in my memory are very vivid (at least, the ones from eariler in the day). We walk in to catch Deadmau5, and meet up with Meg Robinson (in the front left corner). Deadmau5 is great, but there's so much on it's hard to stay in one place. From there we move to a stage that's built on a London 2 decker bus to catch Matrix & Futurebound (a couple of my favourite Drum and Bass producers). From there the memory gets a little fuzzier, but I think the day went.. Eddie Halliwell (awesome), Cut Copy, John Digweed, Soulwax (awesome), Paul Oakenfold (the best set of the day, in my books), Underworld (awesome), Tiesto (awesome), Kasabian.

The way the festival is organized reminds me of Future Music Fest at Doomben earlier this year- Cal repeatedly says that Creamfields was better then the last Global Gathering (the biggest dance festival in the world?). I just wish I had been there for the Saturday also, where I could have seen Pendulum, Fatboy Slim, Paul van Dyk, Subfocus, High Contrast, Noisia, Judge Jules, Ian Brown, Sasha, James Zabiela and The Presets. Doh. Next year maybe ;)

The drive back to London is fairly painless, though long (3+ hours). Luke and Evan crash after we unpack the car while Cal and I head out to the Notting Hill Carnival. Apparently 750,000 people attend over the Saturday/Sunday/Monday, though it feels like everybody is there on the day we chose. I've never seen so many people in my life... The best stages seem to be those set up on the back of large trucks, that drive slowly through the streets with people dancing infront and behind. We only stay for a couple of hours, eat a couple of dry chicken satays, and head back to the house in Clapham where we crash out.

Today is Tuesday and Luke and Cal are heading out to work. Evan and I have the day off, but no plans have formulated as yet. I think it could be a good idea to stay in the Clap and do as little as possible...

I only have a few more days in London and I leave on Saturday night. Before then I need to get happy snappy with the camera again and do some sight seeing.

Part 2

ULTRA BREAKFAST



I decided to get out on the town pretty early (I've been waking up at like 6am every day, for some reason). I stroll down Grafton Street (Sort of the equivalent of Queen Street in Brisbane), and bump into a girl selling scratchie cards to raise support and funds for Alcoholism in Ireland (good luck with that). She wins me over by saying 'It's okay to have a couple of drinks, but..' She probably thinks I'm hungover. I have a habit of looking hungover alot of the time.

Over here, Hungry Jacks is called Burger King like the rest of the world. I think we're the odd one out. I get my first fast food of my trip...



And scratch the scratch card. Zip... Nada... Nothing.



I have to head back up Grafton Street and she sees me coming from a mile away, somehow suckering me into buying 2 more cards with the same result. Feeling a bit lighter in the pocket, I decide to drink my sorrows away at a pub in Temple Bar (not actually a bar, but a small suburb in the city). Take that, alcoholism!



I'm still that lame guy that sits in the corner of the bar and reads 'The Silence of the Lambs'. 'Is he going to kill us all?' I don't hear anybody ask.

I snap a couple of shots of Dublin on my way to the DART train station.



The first is what used to be Ireland's first Parliament house, but is now a large bank. The second photo is a random church that I don't know the name of- That particular style and architechture is fairly typical.

I was recommended to take the train out to a place called Dalkey. It's very pretty, a little village with only a couple of streets. I won't bore with all the details..







I finish the day at Finnegan's pub, with a couple of pints of Smithwick's (Pronounced Smiddicks if you wan't to pretend to be local). Useful tip: Alot of Irish beers are really heavy, and a pint can substitute a full meal if needs be (If that poor scratchie girl ever finds this blog, she's going to have a heartattack).



I get some Z's and it's now 6:30am on Saturday, my last full day in Dublin. Today I have the wedding (my getup is very James Bond, if I may) and tomorrow I meet up with Cal, Evan and Luke in Daresbury.

Part 1

Despite the fact that there's been little content or movement on my goldfish over the last couple of weeks, I keep telling myself this blog isn't just a flash in the pan. So I'm going to put up a few photographs that I've snapped overseas so far...

...It's not overly relevant, but here's my cat eating a drumstick.

Before I even get on a plane in Brisbane, there's drama- they wont let me on the plane untill I show them the physical credit card that was used to purchase the tickets. That credit card has since been cancelled. I have to flex my 'My Dad is a captain for your airline' routine, and I feel like a douche- but it works.. After I 'show a birth certificate or get his work ID faxed to the ticket desk'. There's a whole lot of annoying red tape but eventually they let me on board- I almost miss the flight.

I arrive in Hong Kong and I'm about half way through Red Dragon-

It's pretty good. I know which way it's headed as I've already seen the movie, but it's interesting enough for a plane trip. My favourite line is a quote taken from a William Blake poem, stating "And then came a Great Red Dragon also,". I like scary books.

The flight from Hong Kong to London is shit house. I get about an hours sleep (on a twelve-and-half flight), and the 16 year old english kid next to me won't turn off his phone. I don't care how you went on your GCSE's, please don't talk to me. He's pushy on the arm rest, too. The chinese girl on the other side of him sleeps for about twelve hours with her head on the table infront of her. Solid effort. On the plus side, I just about finish Red Dragon. I get through all the good and gory bits while the cabin staff ask if there is a doctor on board and a lady from a few rows back throws up alot in the bathroom near me. Should have had the chicken!

I miss my London-Dublin connection but make the next flight- it's only 45 minutes later anyway. I can't remember ever having missed a flight before. By this stage I'm pretty stinky and they're allowing me to cut in all the lines at Heathrow Airport.. suckers.

I get to Dublin and go straight to the city- it's a warm day, even though it's overcast. Cue a few photographs of the H'appeny Bridge, St. Stephens Green, and a delicious beer that I drank really fast at a pub called Davy Jone's that Mell and I have been too. I've been awake for close on 30 hours by this point but manage to stay out the whole day.

Everything is alot more green and lush then when we were here last in winter. I go home, and I crash at 6pm. I wake up at 4am- damnit.

The Wednesday is not quite as packed... I eat my first packet of skips since arriving in Europe. This will be a highlight of my trip.

I get Prawn Cocktail flavour (sounds alot worse then it really is), and the packet tells me they will be Fizzibly Melty. They do not dissapoint. I await their arrival in Australia.

All of the houses in Ireland look like this... seriously.

Here's some random building that looks like it could come alive at any minute. I snap this on my way to a park in the City.

I find a spot under a tree and get stuck into 'The Silence of the Lambs'. I feel like a university student at lunch time. I nibble on an apple and cinamon muffin, with a banana and walnut on standby. They are really tasty.

I get home to get ready to see Sweet Savage, Tenacious D and Metallica at Marly park. I must have been the only idiot there who read the ticket and left his camera behind- stupid me.

Sweet Savage are like every rock band you've ever heard.

Tenacious D are actually really cool- costumes, props, humour (I don't normally think all that much of Jack Black but his egotistical, loud-rude American stereotype works well on stage with the other guitarist, Cage). The crowd are quite supportive, which is unlike previous Metallica gigs that I've heard of.

Metallica come out at 9pm while the sun is still high in the sky. This is very weird for me. They play a whole bunch of old songs, like Creeping Death, Ride the Lightning, Master of Puppets etc. They also play Whiskey in the Jar, an old Thin Lizzy track that the crowd lap up. Today would have been (Irish rocker/singer from Thin Lizzy) Phil Lynott's 59th birthday had he not offed himself a while back.

Towards the end of the gig, they play a couple of punk tracks- And let me tell you, as embarrasing as it is standing next to your mum (Yes, I went with my mum) while Tenacious D play "Fuck you Gently", it dosen't hold a candle to James Hetfield singing;

(language warning, people)

"I've got something to say- I killed your baby today,

It dosen't matter much to me, as long as it's dead,

I've got something to say- I raped your mother today,

It dosen't matter much to me, as long as she bled."

At least I can explain that one is a cover.

And next track-

"Well, I've fucked the queen, I've fucked Bach

I've even sucked an old man's cock

So what, so what

And I've fucked a sheep, I've fucked a goat

I rammed my cock right down its throat

So what, so what

So what, so what, you boring little fuck"

Yeah, wow. I've got nothing.

I'm in Ireland for a few more days for a wedding. I skip town early Sunday morning (assuming I make the flight- I need to be at the airport around 430am after the wedding reception Saturday night) to head to the UK for the Creamfields Festival, Notting Hill Carnival, and probably 4 or 5 days worth of recovery.

Curse you, reality!

I think I'd have more fun if my life was a comic book. Bright colours, evil villains, super vixxens and such and such.

In my 'average guy' persona I'd be an AV technician slash lighting guy who gets bored at work of refreshing the same websites, and instead dreams (though that here is a strong word) to be in a comic book. My 'super power' alternative would be ManBoy, or Radioactive Dave, or The Incredible Dave.

But who is the alter-ego to whom?

Also, I could almost die at the end of every episode and you'd have to buy the next to find out how I got out of those recurring, deadly situations. Suckers.

Some of my better super powers would be;

Control of the weather, and also gravity
Pre-torn shorts (that never wear out), made of super lycra
The ability to talk to the animals, and think like the animals
Being able to beat anybody at rock, paper, scissors, using only my fists
A strong metabolism


...Le sigh

Ultimate robot fighting machines... sort of

While I waste away at work, there are people building sweet robots that serve little to no purpose in most cases. This- is awesome. It panders to my geek side (perhaps more so if you acknowledge the fact that I initiated the search for these cute little critters) but it's pleasing to know somebody has something better to do with their time. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and like I'm full of robot insides.

This robot, the Leave Me Alone Box, sums up how I feel at work alot of the time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMGJB410Ccs

This is a robot drummer that's cranking out some pretty cool beats. The best bits though are the- wait for it- robot strippers. I kid you not. I can't think of anything geekier then getting your rocks off on gyrating robot hips... oh yeahhhh.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddQjDei2zbY&feature=related

But the best I've ever seen is still the Yellow Drum Machine..

He looks like Johnny 5, and he's designed to make and play back music. The vid has a slow start but is worth it if you haven't checked this dude out yet. Clearly the king of all robots.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RyodnisVvU

The Carvery

So my local foodstop underneath where I work is a carvery that is called 'The Carvery'. They have a lamb sandwich there that is called 'The Lamb Sandwich'. I get it with gravy. I compliment my choice with a 'Mango Infused Green Tea (with a twist of real fruit juice)'. I don't ask for a "Mango Infused Green Tea (with a twist of real fruit juice), thanks,", that makes me look like a wanker (as an aside, the label tells me the drink is delicious- probably where I picked up this tasty morsel of a catchphrase). I ask for 'that tea drink in the green bottle'.

I eat the same thing at around the same time almost every day but today was the first time they offered me 'the usual'. It's great whilst being awful- I feel like my status has gone up in much the same way a gay club does when somebody OD's in the toilet.

Atleast it saves me a few seconds when I order my delicious snacks...

Oink

Here's a clock that cooks you breakfast.

Thanks Dan.

I Might be Wrong::Dead Air Space

I'm going to add a little bulk to the site by having another look at my favourite album of last year. I think that critiquing an album when it's fresh and new is important, but thoughts and feelings tend to grow or change over time, and it tends to be a good sign when you continue to listen to and find new elements in an album that you enjoy.

My thoughts on In Rainbows follow...

Radiohead have often been a band full of wank. This is no bad thing, assuming you don't dig the minimal sound. They tend to surround a listener with a wall of instruments. I realise the previous statement might be full of wank itself, but I believe it to be true. They have a knack for immersing a listener in a thousand instruments at once. If you can come out the other side in one piece (often Radiohead can be awfully brooding to the point of deep, blue-y depression), you'll be all the better for it.

In Rainbows is the product of 2 years (!) of privately funded recording after the band split with giant record label EMI. The album, released only online at first, was unveiled to the world just days after Radiohead reported the post production was finished on their blog Dead Air Space. Accessed through their website, users were able to download full quality versions of the 10 songs that comprise In Rainbows. In a shock move that seemed a direct attack on record labels, the album was available for whatever price the user wanted to pay for it- be it 0 cents or 10,000 dollars (the sum reported to have been paid by one Nine Inch Nails frontman). For those that wanted the album art and lyric booklet, they had to wait 3 months for the CD to appear on shelves on the 1st of January, 2008.

After you cut out all the bullshit, the only thing that can make an album stand up or fall down is the music. On first play In Rainbows feels stripped back and withdrawn, as if there's less clutter and noise. The songs creak with the occasional synth or string, but really, for the first time in a long time, you feel as though Radiohead are a band with instruments and not just frontman Thom Yorke with a lazy eye and a drum machine.

Opening with two rockier numbers, you get a feel as though they've decided on a bigger direction, an angrier direction. They're still lustful and sweet, but they're not the down in the gutter kind of loving/fucking you'd get with old songs Street Spirit or How To Dissapear Completely. 15 Step and Bodysnatchers open the album with a kaplomb (is that even a word? A quick check on dictionary.com says that no- it is not) of guitars going every which way.

A return to a more 'regular' radiohead follows, with track Nude bringing the soft melody back. This continues through a lazy Sunday style middle-of-the-album, featuring songs Weird Fishes and Reckoner- and it's here where the listener can understand where the 2 years of recording dissapeared. The real return to the guitar comes from first single Jigsaw Falling Into Place. Check Youtube for a video of this clip filmed only from helmet cam. It's about as simple as it gets.

I guess that's really the vibe for this record- even when they strip everything back that they've given over the previous 6 albums, they still seem to maintain such a full sound. On In Rainbows, it's particularly warm and lush. Again with the wank- I know, I know. I'll put it away.

Best song on the album? It's hard to pick, but If MP3's could wear out, my copy of Bodysnatchers would cease to exist.

This review has taken me about as long to write as it does to the listen to the album. I probably could have just written 'It's really fucking great', but that wouldn't do it justice, now would it?

Hopefully the band will land in Australia this year after they tour Japan in October. They're leaving it a little late for announcements but fingers (and toes) are crossed..

Why did I Have the Bowl?

Bowing to peer pressure, I've gone and set up my own blog. I've decided that I'd be a little bit cooler as a blogger.. That in itself probably renounces any coolness that I ever had, but that's not really the point here. Read my shit before I get all Invader Zim on you guys.

I decided to name my blog '...ate my goldfish' as a homage to an underrated character from one of the better TV shows around, The Simpsons. Milhouse Van Houten is voiced by a girl named Pamela, has a rad blue hair cut, and is graced with a similar amount of social awkwardness and short sightedness as myself.

"Remember the time he ate my goldfish? And you lied and said I never had a goldfish. Then why did I have the bowl Bart? Why did I have the bowl?"

I digress- this isn't about a fictional character, this is about me. I hope you can stick around.