Last night, Ross, Lucy, Paddy, Jamie and I embarked on a mission with personally dangerous undertones.
We were to drink in a list of bars we'd been collecting and we werent to stop until we'd done a drink in each.
We managed and then me and ross went out and got smashed.
The bars we visited previous were lovely. All great moody lit little places with good sound tracks and comfy seats. Pints do tend to be over 3 quid though so not great for spending a whole evening.
Me and Ross ended up in the Neon Cactus where the kind gent behind the bar let us sample various expensive sipping tequilas, a concept I always saw as a bit of a paradox.
My experience of tequila is to get it down as fast as possible and just hope to hell it doesnt come back.
After we went to the Hifi, met some lovely girls Tess and Nayna who are doing philosophy and politics at the uni, then sat and chatted to a homeless bloke for a while who we bought some chips. So Zac, best of luck to you man. I hope St Georges crypt can sort you out with a room soon and get you back on your feet, or rather get your feet back in your own pad.
Currently i'm sat inking the front cover for the Zine "Raw Beef and Rare Blues" apologies to Milo's for nicking the title of your steak night offer. Its nowt personal. We just liked it.
Love to all.
Thursday, 30 September 2010
Wednesday, 29 September 2010
Bods Bits and Gadgets
Just spent an afternoon rooting round leeds for some bits and pieces.
Namely some blank cds, a VGA to DVL HD connector, a printer scanner, a mouse and fuck all else.
Got the mouse. Got the cds. Turns out i need need a new graphics card before i can use my new monitor. Bugger.
I realise this is a thoroughly uninteresting post but I'm trying to get into the habit of blogging daily.
I ended up in the Wrens for a pint before home as my feet were fucked and my knees were knackered. In the Wrens I met an interesting bloke called Bod who works at Milos bar. At 5.00pm I will meet up with Paddy and Lucy and we will go there. Whey. Its all research. Seriously.
Milos was rumoured to be the Kaiser Chiefs favourite spot. Bod disproved that, fair enough Bod. Apparently they just knock about anywhere when theyre in Leeds, much like normal everyday people. I was shocked. I believed the Kaisers to be sentient beings capable of bending time and space. And i'm not even that keen on their music.
Just goes to show. Ey.
Namely some blank cds, a VGA to DVL HD connector, a printer scanner, a mouse and fuck all else.
Got the mouse. Got the cds. Turns out i need need a new graphics card before i can use my new monitor. Bugger.
I realise this is a thoroughly uninteresting post but I'm trying to get into the habit of blogging daily.
I ended up in the Wrens for a pint before home as my feet were fucked and my knees were knackered. In the Wrens I met an interesting bloke called Bod who works at Milos bar. At 5.00pm I will meet up with Paddy and Lucy and we will go there. Whey. Its all research. Seriously.
Milos was rumoured to be the Kaiser Chiefs favourite spot. Bod disproved that, fair enough Bod. Apparently they just knock about anywhere when theyre in Leeds, much like normal everyday people. I was shocked. I believed the Kaisers to be sentient beings capable of bending time and space. And i'm not even that keen on their music.
Just goes to show. Ey.
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
The Ballad Gideon Bennet IV
On walking back from college I noticed something new. Snooping around the park near Park Lane college is a statue of a man I remember hearing stories about in the local back street surgeries I frequented as a child.
His name was Gideon Bennet IV.
The main interest of his statue that differentiates his from others is that there is a huge fuck-off box on his head.
Now many people look at the time of this discovery and think "yeah, end of freshers week. Student nobs." But this runs much deeper than an elaborate freshers prank.
This is deeply warped and twisted myth that the rich and powerful in west yorkshire have hidden for years.
Gideon IV was born on a butchers slab in Headingly in 1810, his mother was a washer woman and local bicycle who suffered from memory lapses and his father was a narcoleptic, keen artist and part time surgeon.
His narcolepsy is said to have been at its peek at the time of Gideons birth and he was prone to staying frozen in a single position for hours at a time before suddenly reawakening and violently continuing whatever his previous pursuit had been.
If a modern day midwife is forced to vomit and empty her bowels at the same time in sheer disgust and shock at an unpleasant birth she is said to be "Throwing a Gideon."
Anyhow, Gideon grew up with unfortunate facial features due to his unusual birth circumstances.
I have a quote I dug out of the medical archives in Leeds University to illustrate what I cannot put in words myself.
"Arr Gideons face looked like a cross between horse and cart roadkill and baked apple with a crewdly drawn face stabbed into it with a spoon." - Gideons Mother
As a result, Gideon would wear a crudely crafted wooden box on his head given to him by the local headmaster, requesting he wore it daily to stop the local superstitious folk thinking that the dead were walking again.
At the age of 13 Gideon proposed to his parents that he would learn to be the best surgeon that leeds had ever seen. His father snored in approval.
By the age of 17 he had been expelled from medical college for conducting bizzare and unethical experiments on the university hound name of Hyde involving the Deans idiot sister.
Gideon was still however, in constant correspondance with an american plastic surgeon (the first of his kind) by name of John Peter Mettauer. He admired his work. Mattauer was inventing his own tools in order to repair the Cleft Pallet.
Gideon endeavoured to do the same for his face. So armed with a masonry chisel, several inflated chicken stomachs, some goo he dug out of the medical college pre-incineration bin and the mindless crazed enthusiasm of a speed freak he set about his ghastly affairs.
That night that there was a great storm. Thunder raged and lightning cracked at the university towers and church steeples. Some say the face of Pete Burns appeared in the clouds laughing maniacally and screaming the words to "Spin me right round" to the tune of "ring a ring a roses." Some say it was a very pleasant night all in all and dramatic devices such as these should be avoided at all costs as mindless cliches. Meh.
When the storm cleared a great fog loomed over the steets of Leeds and a dark shuddering figure paced the back alleys quietly giggling with the sound of 'drip, drip, drip,' accompanying his unsteady footsteps.
We'll never know whether or not his surgery worked, but what we do know is the first person to see Gideon shrieked with such force it caused her to have instant heart attack and in shock Gideons head exploded with an immense ferocity.
Gideons remains were buried with his box which was found some half mile away enscribed with the words "BECAUSE I'M WORTH IT."
Moral of the story is, Jesus Pete burns. What the fuck.. I mean really.
Sleep tight. x
His name was Gideon Bennet IV.
The main interest of his statue that differentiates his from others is that there is a huge fuck-off box on his head.
Now many people look at the time of this discovery and think "yeah, end of freshers week. Student nobs." But this runs much deeper than an elaborate freshers prank.
This is deeply warped and twisted myth that the rich and powerful in west yorkshire have hidden for years.
Gideon IV was born on a butchers slab in Headingly in 1810, his mother was a washer woman and local bicycle who suffered from memory lapses and his father was a narcoleptic, keen artist and part time surgeon.
His narcolepsy is said to have been at its peek at the time of Gideons birth and he was prone to staying frozen in a single position for hours at a time before suddenly reawakening and violently continuing whatever his previous pursuit had been.
If a modern day midwife is forced to vomit and empty her bowels at the same time in sheer disgust and shock at an unpleasant birth she is said to be "Throwing a Gideon."
Anyhow, Gideon grew up with unfortunate facial features due to his unusual birth circumstances.
I have a quote I dug out of the medical archives in Leeds University to illustrate what I cannot put in words myself.
"Arr Gideons face looked like a cross between horse and cart roadkill and baked apple with a crewdly drawn face stabbed into it with a spoon." - Gideons Mother
As a result, Gideon would wear a crudely crafted wooden box on his head given to him by the local headmaster, requesting he wore it daily to stop the local superstitious folk thinking that the dead were walking again.
At the age of 13 Gideon proposed to his parents that he would learn to be the best surgeon that leeds had ever seen. His father snored in approval.
By the age of 17 he had been expelled from medical college for conducting bizzare and unethical experiments on the university hound name of Hyde involving the Deans idiot sister.
Gideon was still however, in constant correspondance with an american plastic surgeon (the first of his kind) by name of John Peter Mettauer. He admired his work. Mattauer was inventing his own tools in order to repair the Cleft Pallet.
Gideon endeavoured to do the same for his face. So armed with a masonry chisel, several inflated chicken stomachs, some goo he dug out of the medical college pre-incineration bin and the mindless crazed enthusiasm of a speed freak he set about his ghastly affairs.
That night that there was a great storm. Thunder raged and lightning cracked at the university towers and church steeples. Some say the face of Pete Burns appeared in the clouds laughing maniacally and screaming the words to "Spin me right round" to the tune of "ring a ring a roses." Some say it was a very pleasant night all in all and dramatic devices such as these should be avoided at all costs as mindless cliches. Meh.
When the storm cleared a great fog loomed over the steets of Leeds and a dark shuddering figure paced the back alleys quietly giggling with the sound of 'drip, drip, drip,' accompanying his unsteady footsteps.
We'll never know whether or not his surgery worked, but what we do know is the first person to see Gideon shrieked with such force it caused her to have instant heart attack and in shock Gideons head exploded with an immense ferocity.
Gideons remains were buried with his box which was found some half mile away enscribed with the words "BECAUSE I'M WORTH IT."
Moral of the story is, Jesus Pete burns. What the fuck.. I mean really.
Sleep tight. x
Monday, 27 September 2010
Going out west and herding beats.
So on Saturday I took the train to keighley and Met my freind mark. WE got in the car, picked up a decent supply of booze and good folk from the surround area and set of down the A65 past Skipton and joined the A590 to Kerby Lonsdale. We turned off past an old steam railway station down a knackered old B road.
We drove further up the hill smoking and chatting until we started seeing various DIY motor homes painted bright colours displaying wind chimes and dream catchers in the windows. This meant we were drawing close.
Angie and Mark started setting up their tent while I had a look around. The clearing in the wood had been beautifully decorated, a sound system was being pieced together and tested and the smiling faces of old freinds were there to welcome me to what was going to a be beautiful night. I should really the rest up in pictures.
This is Mark opening a present presented to him by the beat herder boys
It was an electril drill. This picture was taken at midnight.
We lit fires, drank, chatted and danced through the night and through sunday.
This makes me happy. This is what I want to be able to do.
We drove further up the hill smoking and chatting until we started seeing various DIY motor homes painted bright colours displaying wind chimes and dream catchers in the windows. This meant we were drawing close.
Angie and Mark started setting up their tent while I had a look around. The clearing in the wood had been beautifully decorated, a sound system was being pieced together and tested and the smiling faces of old freinds were there to welcome me to what was going to a be beautiful night. I should really the rest up in pictures.
This is Mark opening a present presented to him by the beat herder boys
It was an electril drill. This picture was taken at midnight.
We lit fires, drank, chatted and danced through the night and through sunday.
This makes me happy. This is what I want to be able to do.
Saturday, 25 September 2010
Stumbling across something nice
So I ended up dragging ross and lucy to bradford which i thought was a great idea as a decent curry does wonders for a head cold right?
and bradford is the best place i know to go for a curry.
and we got to see my old freind tick the pirate games designer.
but all this is besides the point.
After the curry which was loveleh. We got the train from Foster Square back to Leeds, dropped lucy off at libery pork halls and went out for a mission.
We stumbled across the Warehouse, an old club that used to host nights like Speed Queen. We paid a fiver to get in as it was a freshers night ( we swore we wouldnt do any more freshers nights as the music tends to be terrible ) we were pleasantly surprised though.
It was really fucking loud and the music was fast and bass driven which will do for two wrecked and lost stop outs on a weekend.
I danced so much my limbs hurt.
whey.
and bradford is the best place i know to go for a curry.
and we got to see my old freind tick the pirate games designer.
but all this is besides the point.
After the curry which was loveleh. We got the train from Foster Square back to Leeds, dropped lucy off at libery pork halls and went out for a mission.
We stumbled across the Warehouse, an old club that used to host nights like Speed Queen. We paid a fiver to get in as it was a freshers night ( we swore we wouldnt do any more freshers nights as the music tends to be terrible ) we were pleasantly surprised though.
It was really fucking loud and the music was fast and bass driven which will do for two wrecked and lost stop outs on a weekend.
I danced so much my limbs hurt.
whey.
Friday, 24 September 2010
Lateral Thinking
I discovered I can photograph stuff on my phone and instantly upload it to my gmail account.
Whey.
Heres the beermat from the previous post.
Starting something new.
Ive never had a blog before. I've never kept a diary either.
This is becuase I've never assumed that people would be interested in the words in my head and Ive never thought they were that relevant either.
I know some poeple like the images I think about. Unfortunately though I dont have a scanner so words will have to make do until I do have a scanner or the oppertunity to sit in the computer lab and upload it all.
So here we go.
Last night I was going to attend something at the wire but on getting there at about midnight we found a crew of people who'd been waiting outside for an hour or so and hadn't moved. Was a little bit gutted as some dutch minimal tech DJ's were playing and I like that stuff.
Anyhow, in a nutshell we ended up at some cracking little bars that seemed relevant to our Fanzine.
The first was the Sela Bar near Gatecrasher. Its a beautifully decorated cellar with red lighting and a great selection of lagers, ales and cocktails. I spent an hour there nursing a cocktail called a "cherry bakewell."
Cherry Bakewell
Amaretto
Cherry Liquer
Lime
Splash of Lemonade
Ice
Shaken
Were reet nice. :)
Sela Bar hosts a jazz night every wednesday that seems worth a go while the money lasts. While the prices are upmarket, it seemed like there was a really down to earth crowd there.
Be warned, theres a hidden step just as you enter or leave and we saw two people fall flat at the bottom of the stairs on the way out and one bloke who seemed like he might have substituted necessary coordination for intoxication spend ten minutes trying to navigate the stairs.
Proper good laugh in all.
After that we moved a couple of doors down to the North Bar which was fucking expensive with its cheapest pint being Lindeboom at 3.85.
Ross made the mistake of ordering some obscure can of belgian lager and watching it be poured before realising it came in at 7.50.
Again we spent an hour nursing our selected booze.
The North Bar hosts exhibitions for local artists and there were some lovely mixed media canvasses on the wall. It also sells food.
The best bit really was a conversation with the lass behind the bar who told us to seek our the best coffee in leeds down in a place named "The Calls," somewhere around the corn exchange. She couldnt remember the name though, so armed with these directions written on a beer mat (i'll scan it in later) were going to go coffee hunting. Perhaps tomorow, I'll update the blog when we find it.
Love to y'all.
This is becuase I've never assumed that people would be interested in the words in my head and Ive never thought they were that relevant either.
I know some poeple like the images I think about. Unfortunately though I dont have a scanner so words will have to make do until I do have a scanner or the oppertunity to sit in the computer lab and upload it all.
So here we go.
Last night I was going to attend something at the wire but on getting there at about midnight we found a crew of people who'd been waiting outside for an hour or so and hadn't moved. Was a little bit gutted as some dutch minimal tech DJ's were playing and I like that stuff.
Anyhow, in a nutshell we ended up at some cracking little bars that seemed relevant to our Fanzine.
The first was the Sela Bar near Gatecrasher. Its a beautifully decorated cellar with red lighting and a great selection of lagers, ales and cocktails. I spent an hour there nursing a cocktail called a "cherry bakewell."
Cherry Bakewell
Amaretto
Cherry Liquer
Lime
Splash of Lemonade
Ice
Shaken
Were reet nice. :)
Sela Bar hosts a jazz night every wednesday that seems worth a go while the money lasts. While the prices are upmarket, it seemed like there was a really down to earth crowd there.
Be warned, theres a hidden step just as you enter or leave and we saw two people fall flat at the bottom of the stairs on the way out and one bloke who seemed like he might have substituted necessary coordination for intoxication spend ten minutes trying to navigate the stairs.
Proper good laugh in all.
After that we moved a couple of doors down to the North Bar which was fucking expensive with its cheapest pint being Lindeboom at 3.85.
Ross made the mistake of ordering some obscure can of belgian lager and watching it be poured before realising it came in at 7.50.
Again we spent an hour nursing our selected booze.
The North Bar hosts exhibitions for local artists and there were some lovely mixed media canvasses on the wall. It also sells food.
The best bit really was a conversation with the lass behind the bar who told us to seek our the best coffee in leeds down in a place named "The Calls," somewhere around the corn exchange. She couldnt remember the name though, so armed with these directions written on a beer mat (i'll scan it in later) were going to go coffee hunting. Perhaps tomorow, I'll update the blog when we find it.
Love to y'all.
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