language tape remix
Howdy

The year was 1993. Our english teacher (i´m from mexico) who was almost always hungover, loved to play those tapes from hell while you had to write down whatever john was saying to lucie about the fuckin weather. She usualy dosed off for the better part of a half hour. A friend came up with the idea of taking one of the tapes for the next chapter and record some sepultura or something on it. So we did.
I was at that age when you discover..well.. PrOn.
Cue the next day, as usual, books out, tape in, john starts asking some girl for the time... and she replies with a superb moan! john says thank you! so the conversations went from normal to multiorgasmic seemlesly, until i got lazy and just recorded 10 minutes of 8 people going at it.
She didn´t wake up... but the adjacent classrooms were bursting with laughter.
good times!
(JUANZO_BELL, Fri 8 Feb 2008, 1:35, Reply)

Delusions of grandeur
First year of uni in '95, when the internet and I were young, naive and barely acquainted, one of the nocturnal denizens of the hall computer room showed me a unix based chat system (telnet resort.org 2323 anyone?) and the prospect of more American college girls than the fingers of both hands could cope with. American college girls who, as you know, may go weak of knee and moist of pantie at any lump of maleness, no matter how unpalatable, who speaks with a genuine British accent. This, naturally, was the Holy Grail to a diffident English lad with litle else to do in the westernmost wilds of Wales and it was horribly, ruinously addictive. So I embarked upon a catalogue of assignations, over the next couple of years, that varied in terms of the emotional damage wrought on either party from the merely ill-advised, through the truly horrendous, to the utterly catastrophic. If ever a suitable QOTW arises then I may post a selection of these salutary tales.

Anyway, in the course of things, mix-tapes flew back and forth across the atlantic ocean. Now this was of course the mid-nineties when Britpop ruled the world and rarely was there ever a shit single in the top 40*. However, those pesky Americans weren't having any of it. Brit band after Brit band adventured off to crack the States and came back the next day to the collective shrug of the entire North American continent. With little hope of getting into the pants of any of my paramours, even on the back of a few well chosen tunes, I thought that I could at least use the humble mix tape to introduce great music to a few American dorms that were otherwise infected by hip hop, rap and, God help them, rnb. I also thought I could add to the sophistication quotient of a few Stateside music collections that were tragically bereft of Saint Etienne. Perhaps, even, in my own small way, I thought I could help to insinuate Britpop into the mainstream of their musical culture.

In the end they wanted Robbie Williams and the Spice Girls. *shrugs*

* A barefaced lie.

Length... All the way across the atlantic.
(Dr. Scambolic, Fri 8 Feb 2008, 1:34, 2 replies)

Having been made redundant
some years ago, and being mightily miffed about it (loved the job and was damn good at it, though I say so myself) Davros' Granddad offered to drop me off at work for my last day. With The Dead Kennedys' "Too Drunk To Fuck" blasting out of the car stereo. Which was a cassette player as opposed to CD so I'm approximately on topic. That was 'making an entrance on my exit'.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Fri 8 Feb 2008, 1:24, 7 replies)

Following my post earlier...
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you 1990.

Proto-PJM is sixteen years old and grappling with teenage angst. Or more likely grappling with himself, frequently. Despite the ever present concerns over ever getting laid or too much masturbation being detrimental to one's health, the soundtrack to proto-PJM's year was beginning to take shape.

January

Almost killed by a falling barn roof during a hurricane strength storm on his way home from school (the very same one which lobotomized Gordon Kaye), PJM wastes no time chain smoking his way through a month of high stakes card games (a whole box of matches was played for and won) instead of revising for his GCSEs.

Some of his cohorts during this time are a bunch of heavy rockers and metallers, with hair and acne to go round. Despite the overwhelming deluge of Metallica, Iron Maiden and for those metallers seeking easy listening; Guns n Roses, PJM seeks musical sanctuary elsewhere, with FPI Project, De La Soul and Electronic.

February

More of the same. PJM is poorly and at home from school one Monday morning watching news footage of an elderly but unbowed future statesman being release from a long jail sentence.

Beats International (Lindy Layton... Ooooh Lindy Layton), Depeche Mode and a smattering of S-Express accompany PJM while deadlines for coursework submission pass by with scant notice. Coursework? By next Tuesday sir. Study was most definitely not a Mantra for a State of Mind.

March

Guru Josh is officially the coolest man ever to be called "Josh'. Snap power their way (see what I did there?) to a UK hit, while PJM bops away to the B52s while he thinks no-one is looking.

Meanwhile, across Britain resentment to the hugely unpopular Poll Tax builds to flashpoint. Brixton is sealed off as the mother of all punch ups ensue, which ultimately spills over into the "second battle of Trafalgar". Two of PJM's comrades are involved in town centre rioting, both claiming an unconscious copper each. Yep, I just saw one of them. It was flying, mate. And oinking.

The verse “She’s gonna step on you again…” becomes a metaphor for the mood of the working classes, sensing a moral victory for the first time in over a decade.

April

The warm spring is a foreboding of a hot, sticky summer. The moody beats of Adamski, the melodies of Jesus Jones (the frontman is now a mountain biking journalist) and the Rebel MC accompany lazy evenings lounging around in grassy green fields, smoking, talking about the future in acts of small rebellion in contrast to the prisoners at Strangeways, tearing the roof down on the six o clock news.

Despite all this, I was carefree and most definitely feeling Real, Real, Real.

May

The first of PJM’s GCSE exams are met with a level of preparedness akin to taking a lino onboard the Titanic. A warm April gave way to a grey and dank May, which did little to dampen my spirits. The trippiness of Primal Scream accompanied me to and from exam halls. I certainly wasn’t fighting it, I was feeling it!

Kicking back post exams consisted of slouching around under trees drinking bottles of cheap cider and smoking from matt-black packs of JPS. I became aware of a new and somewhat sober public mood, yep we were off to play football again…

June

For the first and only time in my memory, the weeks of boredom and sphincter clenching press jingoism that usually accompany England to any football tournament were muted. A new, post soccer violence mood had taken grip of the nation, who better than New Order with World in Motion. Okay, the guys who once brought you Temptation and She’s Lost Control were selling out monumentally and some dumbass thought “Great! Lets get John Barnes to do some more of his rapping!”. Fuck me, I wouldn’t let John Barnes (w)rap my nieces Christmas present.

The long and angst ridden years of repulsion to the female of the species was brought to an abrupt end when a lady appeared on the scene. Any notion of steamy romance being accompanied by Lil Louis French Kissing his way through an allegro beat with a breathy gallic strumpet were wide of the mark though. More tonsil tennis and chaste fumblings in hot, badly ventilated bedrooms. Clearly, Linekar et al were scoring much more than I was.

July

The England dream was over as Gazza paraded through London on a double decker bus wearing rubber tits while the smug Germans go home knowing that it’s their year. The East Germans have something to cheer about too, for it’s goodbye to Trabants and Oost-Marks.

A sudden storm broke the sultry July heat, however, I still wasn’t quite dancing Naked in the Rain. G/f at the time made it clear MC Hammer style – U Can’t Touch This. So I didn’t. Nessun Dorma (or “None Shall Sleep”) I don’t think.

August

“I’m Free!” I was able to proclaim in chorus with the Soup Dragons. My somewhat demure and naively sweet g/f proved as clingy as a North Sea limpet, her proposal of marriage dampened my sixteen year old ardour rapidly. Might sound harsh, but at that age to settle down and for her to be The Only One I Know would be disastrous.

Saddam Hussein in a bid to make Hitler look like a second grade amateur turned his conquest toward the tiny emirate of Kuwait. Another barking dictator was fighting a rearguard action as pressure in the House of Commons mounted on Margaret Thatcher to move sideways after the Poll Tax debacle.

One summer morning I opened a brown envelope, bearing the bad news of my exam results. Shit, I’d practically come bottom in the whole world. What a Killer.

I’d hooked up with another lady at a party but something didn’t quite gel right for me, so unlike Betty Boo I wasn’t Doin’ the Do, perhaps quite rightly so.

September

Starting college was the beginning of a new and slightly more serious era. Carefree days of frivolity were slipping away almost imperceptibly but my music tastes began to take a comparative turn too. I don’t recall there being much in the news, except for some Liberian bloke being executed.

Growing tired of my anticlimactic college lovelife (like an England match, all buildup but a lacklustre show on the field) I began to ask What Time is Love? A Suicide Blonde caught my eye (dyed by her own hand), but the party invites kept on a-flowing. Saturday nights would reward with a Fascinating Rhythm or two.

October

I took A Little Time and gradually the college grades I needed started to come my way. At last I think I had begun to realise that I should stop being The Joker and make an effort. I’d previously found study to be So Hard.

Politically, the landscape of Europe had changed once again. Germany had reunified and Mikhail Gorbachev wins a Nobel prize.

November

Ding dong the witch is dead, driven away crying from number 10. It was almost Unbelievable. PJM was sat in a history class when he heard the news and to a man every individual in the room cheered. Except one, who cradled his head in his arms and sobbed. He was the only person in the room to react with any semblance of Sadness.

December

The final dying embers of a Crazy year to remember for the rest of my life, with momentous happenings in both my personal life and in the history books. “Are You Dreaming?” I really Had The Time of My Life.

Xmas parties were spent collecting hugs and kisses from every International Bright Young Thing I could find. I was clearly revelling in it.

Britain and France became All Together Now several hundreds of feet below the English Channel as the first segment of the channel tunnel met in the middle.

What?
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 8 Feb 2008, 1:17, 9 replies)

A Noise Annoys
A few years ago when I was in uni, my then-girlfriend (who lived on the other side of the country) was in a house with a load of annoying bitches (in her words). They'd be loud, get pissed and sing karaoke in someone's bedroom when they knew she had exams the next day, had loud sex with their menfolk in the next room, and so on until the cows came home.

Being the romantic fellow that I am, I offered to make a lovely tape of my favourite sensitive singer-songwriter types for her, which she duly accepted, with thanks. She also asked for a nice, loud apewail of a tape, full of stuff that'll make her Eiffel 65-loving housemates shit their pants. The 'A Noise to Annoy' compilation was born.

Featuring Atari Teenage Riot (live in Berlin bootleg), Aphex Twin's Come to Daddy, as well as the Surgeon remix of Mogwai's Mogwai Fear Satan (6 minutes of white noise that gradually gets louder and louder) and some Boredoms for good measure, I made the tape and brought it round, the next time I visited.

Sure enough, loud moaning and banging noises started at around 2 am. I got up, put the tape in and Come to Daddy started, with its "I want your soul/I will eat your soul" lyrics and screaming. The banging stopped, and we went to sleep.

Every time her housemates did something annoying to her, my girlfriend would just press play on her tape player, and endure some unlistenable noise until she felt better. Eventually the punishment worked and they stopped doing as many annoying things around the place. Behavioural psychology at its best.
(Fuiru Sting, where is thy death?, Fri 8 Feb 2008, 0:59, 4 replies)

How to send out the wrong idea...
Was working with a girl in a bar a few years ago. Got on well, bit of flirting, the usual. We had different tastes in music - she liked her trancey/dancey stuff (Leftfield, Fluke etc) and I liked industrial metal (NIN, Ministry etc).

As a culural exchange, she did me a mix tape of her music, and I did her one of mine. All went well. Well enough that she wanted to hear more industrial stuff, and asked if I could do her another. To demonstrate the diversity of the genre, I did her a mix tape consisting of all 6 mixes of nine inch nails' "Closer" (including the rather good "Precusor" remix that appears on the opening credits to "Se7en"). I saw this as a snippet of the talents of Trent Reznor. She however focused on one particular part of the song. Namely the chorus.

For those of you unfamiliar with NIN, the chorus to "Closer" runs something like "I want to fuck you like an animal, I want to feel you from the inside, I want to fuck you like an animal, my whole existance is flawed, you bring me closer to god".

Best oversight of my life, we were at it like a kangaroo on a spacehopper for weeks.
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Fri 8 Feb 2008, 0:16, Reply)

I'd stick to photoshopping animals if I were you.

(SSSSS, Fri 8 Feb 2008, 0:07, Reply)

nirvana+silly old teacher
This story is from about 8 years ago. I was in my second year of secondary school. It's pretty shit, as you'll probably recall. We used tapes then in language classes, random French people repeating the same stuff over and over about the train to paris and the weather and so forth. Bored the tits off us it did.
As well as this, the teacher decided - unjustly, I might add - that I was a scurvy cheating bastard. Now this teacher was about 60, a kind-hearted but rather racist and bigoted Catholic (it was a Catholic school, being Ireland), and so scatterbrained that she once brought us up before the principal for stealing her book, before finding it in her locker. Convinced that French was a language one spoke through the nose, she let a friend of mine go one day because he had a headcold. Seriously.
Anyway, as I was such a cheating swine, I was seated by my lonesome right before her frightfully blank face - blank except for the eerily perfectly-shaped triangle of spit that formed at the sides of her mouth when she talked a lot. This position gave me the perfect opportunity to swipe one of the aforementioned tapes (with slow moves, first I'd move it a bit toward me as she was looking away, I'd put it behind her pencil case as she shut her eyes yawning, and then snatch it) and bring it home with me.
What would I do with it? I'd show the silly old one what was what. I brought it home, and dug out the heaviest rockingest cd I had - Nevermind (I was about 14) - and edited the tape so that it had 30 seconds of introduction, then a beep signifying the class had to pay attention to what was said, then the sound of guitars being forced into some sort of feedback-lubricated orgy. I remember thinking it was the greatest prank I would ever do.

So next week, I take my place at the front, surreptitiously place the tape up on the desk (she hadn't even missed it, and wasn't surprised to find it) and sat back in tense anticipation. A friend of mine was keeping his ear open in the class next door. I hadn't told anyone else of this, hoping for a shock.

So she puts in the tape, presses play. I'm trying my best not to smile. The French guy starts giving his intro, seconds to go till the beep. What happens?
This is what happens. One of the kids at the back of the class spotted an opportunity to annoy the teacher and waste time, and called for a tape that we hadn't heard. She gives in (why the fuck did she give in?) presses stop right on the beep, and switches the tape. I was fucking heartbroken.
I can only assume though, that at some point that tape shocked some old french teacher and made some kids laugh, which is a consolation. Still, though, it would have been legendary.

Length? About half an hour of the best rock bastardry, which made it all the worse.
(schlafmuetze, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 23:26, Reply)

Not exactly a mix tape...
But a free track from a female artist I'm promoting.

drop me a line to [email protected] if you want it. All constructive comments greatfully received.

I'd also love to swap mixtapes with anyone who's brave enough.
(MadBouncyDog Barking at the moon since, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 23:25, Reply)

I don't think i've ever made one for anyone personal.
I did this one once for another forum that had a "back to mine" theme mix a few years ago.

I might have another pop at it some time.

Death in vegas - all that glitters
Tenor saw - pumpkin belly
Neil young - after the gold rush
The doves - the cedar room
Half man half biscuit - the trumpton riots
Knifehandchop - going back to scarborogh
Squarepusher - theme from ernest borgine
Fleapit - cuntish behaviour
Braintax - Futureghost
Iron bridge - international relations
Cut la roc - fallin'
A guy called gerald - Touch me
Spiritualized - the straight and the narrow
( Slippery Mick ‏, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 23:12, Reply)

Bit of a dull QOTW this one,
it is most unsuccesful in alleviating my boredom but there you go.

On an almost related note I am currently listening to Savoy Truffle by The Beatles (White Album, Disc 2 track somethingorother)

I once made a tape of Green Day and Monty Python when I was 8 (quite possibly younger) for a long trip up to Scotland. I don't like Green Day anymore. Monty Python on the other hand generously supply great songs, "Always Look On The Bright Side of Life" always makes me smile, which I think is the intention.
There was also a song about the penis ("The Penis Song" I believe it was called) I can still recite all the words to this day, it really did tickle me.

Since getting everything deleted from my computer on the weekend, my iTunes top 25 is mostly composed of The Stone Roses, The Cure, Radiohead, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin. While this may appear a depressing list, they are mostly happy Beatles songs and Cure songs (Lovecats, and to a sadder extent Boys Dont Cry) though the Led Zeppelin ones are of the sad acoustic variety (not Stairway to Heaven surprisingly). Radiohead are, as always depressing, though listening to The Bends this morning, it's not all that sad an album.

So given that the music I listen to normally directly reflects my mood, we can deduce that this week I haven't been overly happy, but nor have I been sad. Actually, I've been fine, I just really like Radiohead.

Well I'm going to be dragged on holiday tommorow, which I doubt I'll enjoy, but I'll try. I imagine I'll listen to my iPod on the way down. There'll be no mix tape, which is kind of funny. I am by no means bountiful in years but already I can notice the effects of the developments in technology. Anyway this QOTW seemed really quite heartless so I thought I'd share, and what do I care anyway, I'll be absent for your flaming.

I'm going on holiday to the Lake District before you brand me some ungrateful twat. The fucking Lake District. The only souvenir I'll be bringing back is shit in the grips of my shoes.

See you in a week b3ta, good luck with the mix tapes.
(Tip-Top Tomcat but you can call me Tommo, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 23:04, 1 reply)

I have a plan about mix tapes... Calling all London-meeting QOTWers...
I know it's compulsory now to wear a red carnation to the London QOTW bash - and I look forward to that - but why stop there? Maybe we should each bring one mix tape (or CD, or memory card) and have a big mix tape swap? That way something good can come out of this evil. And that way I can dig out all the really shite musical ephemera that I possess and inflict it on others.
Accordian folk version of the Grange Hill theme tune, anyone?
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 23:04, 10 replies)

Well this is relativly boring for a QOTW
I made a big pile of mix tapes (the tapes were circular and hard, and may have actually been CDs) for a girl that I like/d, but purely because she asked me to make a compilation of music for her. I'm too generous like that.
As for what was on it, pretty much all of my CD collection (I calculated £2000+'s worth of music)

Length? bloody massive...
(Sheepdean was rifling through your underwear drawer on, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 22:57, Reply)

screeech!
I made a CD for my best friend, who used to go running every morning. With some simple sound editing software, I threw in a few car screeches, horns, people shouting his name out, all in amongst the songs. Drove him insane. He doesn't talk to me as much as he used to.
(bobman500 enjoys a grope as much as the next fella, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 22:41, 3 replies)

Only made one mistake in my life,
mistook a qotw to say 'mistake' when it should have said 'mix tape'.

Length? Never mistaken.
(PassTheKhat, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 21:43, 1 reply)

Bip.
Last year I walked out of a very important job in the City and went a bit peculiar for a month or so. I slept until 4pm each day, went direct to the pub at sunset, and spent the hours between chucking-out and 6am putting calamitous, random, stupidly complicated mixes together at volumes that eventually led the police to become involved.

Some of the results can be found here, and also here.

I'm much better now, thanks.
( 0% Interest Expand Reply Retweet Favorite More, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 21:38, 3 replies)

At work today
I borrowed Michael's device for fastening paper based items together.

Yes indeed it was Mick's stapler.....

Poor I know but I think all the good puns bindun already. Roll on next Weds.

Cheers
(brocky, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 21:21, Reply)

I Got Something To Say
Nothing says I love you like hardcore Horror Punk courtsey of the Misfits, insane psychobilly from the Nekromantix and Deathrock from the 69 Eyes
(Jizzbiscuits-Murphy wroted this on, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 21:14, Reply)

Bindun?
The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don't wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules. Anyway... I've started to make a tape... in my head... for Laura. Full of stuff she likes. Full of stuff that make her happy. For the first time I can sort of see how that is done...

Man, I love that film.

And, yes, I've made plenty of mix tapes. Not usually to get into peoples' pants, more because it's a great way to hear new music. I make a tape for you, you make a tape for me. Most of my favourite bands have been discovered this way.
(ComplexStuff Was confused by life on, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:58, 8 replies)

I'm sorry. I'm so elitist.
I didn't appreciate the compilation CD as much as I let on. I suspect that they got me confused with my sister. As it happens, I don't listen to 'The Wombats', a band so bad that one of their own songs suggests you listen to another band.

*shudder*
(ladyintheradiator, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:56, 1 reply)

Fucking Hell!
A shit QOTW at the same time as a shit image challenge!

A new low for b3ta : (

(except for bottling it to Prince)
( routine has perfected burgers, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:55, 1 reply)

Renate
I mad a mix tape and got one back from a girl called renate.... That's it really, she was really nice and we were very much infatuated.

Is it wrong that I was 16 and she was 12?

She's on my facebook account now and she's really rather attractive. Meh.

Sorry, this is a rubbish story, but it's all I've got.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:44, Reply)

More 'songs that bring back memories' than mix tapes, but...
The first time I listened to Dark Side of the Moon at home, my mother got really freaked out. We were on the big female vocal solo 'wohoo woohoo weeeooo' and all that. And my mother comes out with 'when I was working in the strip club the girls used to masturbate to that on stage'.

Cue filial double-take. I had no idea that before I was born she used to work in a famous nightclub in Vienna, which at the time had delusions of high culture - they had a choreographer who was obsessed with 'tableaux vivants' of naked girls in the style of Roman paintings and suchlike. And in between the acts, they used to have mildly erotic comic puppetry acts. And that's what Mama Flatfrog used to do.

And they wanked to Pink Floyd. Now I can't hear that song without images of dodgy strip shows coming to mind. A few years later my Mum and I went to the London branch of the same club to see if it was still the same - sadly, just a very dull strip show (and yes, chaps, that really is possible).

No apologies for length - listening to the Floyd.
( flatfrog Staring vacantly into space, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:42, 2 replies)

Mix tapes rock
Well mine did - I was chatting to this girl in Arkinsas (my mate was going out with her mate, and I wanted in). Anyway as part of any mating ritual circa 1990 I made her a mix tape - I think I may have included some of the following on it:

Vixen: Not a Minute too soon
Iron Maiden: Holy Smoke
The Mission: Tower of Strength
Metallica: Enter Sandman

And maybe some Def Leppard, Sabbath, Motorhead - all the other important stuff I was listening to at that time.

She sent me one in return. I remember reading only one song title - 'Boy I want to marry you'

Thankfully the atlantic ocean meant I did not physically have to run a mile...
(Waynster James Joyce is fucking my sister!, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:40, 1 reply)

certainly
wasn't to get in her pants, but my brother and i once spent days making a mix tape for my mother's easter present. it was a real labour of love and she loved it, especially the "to mummy, we love you" intro at the beginning.

problem was, it wasn't so cute 10 years later when she still insisted on playing it in the car so people could laugh at our childish voices...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:24, 1 reply)

I had a girlfriend once ...
... once!

No, but really, she made me a couple of mix tapes with such good stuff on I've been spending a good part of the last twenty years buying/nicking the original albums they came from.

Stuff what was on it (this was back in th' 80s, remember) -

Joni Mitchell "Sweet Sucker Dance", "The Boho Dance"
Suicide "Touch Me"
Prefab Sprout "Appetite"
Associates "Party Fears Two"
Julian Cope "Holy Love"
and so on ...

Mind you she was a bit odd. "Borrowed" a violin off me so that I had to go round her house and collect it. Left little notes in the lining of my coat. Gave me a photo of herself when we started going out, then nicked it back out of my wallet when she wanted to split up. I've got a horrible feeling she left me with something else rather more scratch-inducing as well. Very embarrassing for a 17-year-old.

Maybe I should have put this in the stalkers qotw.
(ramrod_newell had his hair brushed at, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:19, Reply)

I used to produce mix tape 'radio shows' with my little tapedeck.
I'd open the show, perform some (hilarious) DJ banter, then introduce each track, talking between each one in true Radio 1 style.

Eventually I set up a pretty sophisticated system where I played the song on a seperate stereo to the deck recording so I could talk over the intro of the songs - "And now, this is Garbage with Stupid girl... "

Had to remain absolutely still and silent during the songs though...
( NinjaBadger hides in the bushes and gives you TB., Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:04, 2 replies)

I remember mixing
a tape for a party I held, and would try to DJ and segue the records according to type, beats per minute and the like, problem was I had a stupidly diverse love of things from Nina Hagen to Men without Hats, and had repeated the latter's 'dum dum de da doo dooo' intro about twenty times before I started the song proper. Everyone thought it was a vinyl thet had got stuck.

Went from tapes to minidisk. man they were good. Still are infact
(lordy lordy, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 20:01, Reply)

My mate Michael...
(Here we go) is a bit of an animal lover. In his garden, to keep the grass down, he has three male sheep.

We call them Mick's Tupps...








What?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 7 Feb 2008, 19:51, Reply)

Strange juxtapositions
A friend of mine made me a mix tape of various odd stuff I liked and some filler. Now I can't listen to "From Russia with Love" without thinking that it will be followed by the Grange Hill theme tune.
( foop, Thu 7 Feb 2008, 19:42, Reply)