Barney loves Ewan!


Edit: Thanks for the FP! I'm welling up!
(Fri 9th Apr 2004, 21:02, More)

I have at last I think learned to use image ready!
And I know this must have been done before but after seeing the earlier image I just had to do the master of spong!




Please forgive me
(Wed 8th Jan 2003, 4:33, More)

Oi Gerbil ! NO!


Come back with my Hummus!
(Wed 30th Oct 2002, 3:19, More)

» In the Army Now - The joy of the Armed Forces

To all the naysayers
There seems to be quite a lot of negatvity towards the amred forces on here - I guess its a sign of the times, way things change. Thing is, it showed me a lot of what I could do.

I did my two weeks basic training (standard for the SAS - Saturdays and Sundays as we were affectionally known) and for my sins I was sent to do mine with the Royal Artillery at Woolwich. Out of the 72 squaddies on our course, I was one of the less competent shall we say. As I mentioned before, I came from a small Corps of Drums and didn't get much training apart from in music, plus I was unfit and generally a bit of a weed, and nowehere else did this show up more than on the assault course.

The one at Woolwich is a bastard, and the PTI's are bastards as well to people like me. You started at the first obstacle - a high metal bar. The PTI would instruct you how to attack the obstacle and off you would go. You were then introduced to the second obstacle - a low metal bar which you would have to go under. Again you were shown how to attack it, then you were sent back to the beginning to do the first then second obstacle. and on this went - each time you were shown, each time you went back to the beginning and did all the proceeding obstacles.

One of the obstackes was a 12 foot wall, which you were boosted up on to by another squaddie, Tony - a lovely bloke and the only coloured guy on the course. Anyway he boosted me up, but as I was already suffering, I came off the wall wrong - rather than hang by your fingernails and drop and roll, I just bundled myself over and landed on my feet, buggaring up my ankle good and proper.

No one saw me do it, and when I started limping back, I suddenly picked up from the Captain the nickname Mr Bean, a real confidence builder. By the time I had completed the land based obstacles I was in agony and exhausted. And also by that time at least one guy had given up and got RTU'd (Returned To Unit - aka failed). At this point I should have done the same, but I remember my mate who had originally got me in my unit in the first place offering up the advice that as long as you tried and kept going until you could not go no more, the army would appreciate that. So I decide to carry on.

We now got to the water obstacles - I say water, but this stuff was thick and black, and made no better as our bombardier proceeded to piss in the water whilst the PTI instructor gave us the overview of the obstacles. The first was a 10 meter concrete tube, not with the snags in (at least I don't recall there being any) as mentioned in a previous post, but still full of black, stagnant and filthy water. I did all I could to pull myself through it, and by now I was starting to lose the plot a bit. I was already last after the run and the last two obstacles were two ten meter man-made lakes - by the time I had got there they had sent back a couple of finishers to encourage you through. I jumped into this thick black shit to find the bottom was matted with fallen tree parts and vegetation, I remembertaking about three steps and falling face forward into the shit, and thye next thing having my head pulled above the water and being dragged to the other side by two squaddies, while a young bombardier hurled utter abuse at me from the side. They dragged me to the end and were ordered back to barracks, while the Bomb came over and hurled more abuse at me.

It was then I just looked at him, completely dropped the soldier facade and said like you would to a pal down the pub that I could not go on, I had done my best but my ankle was royally screwed and that it was time to RTU me. But he wouldn't have it and ordered me in to the second lake - I just droppped in, falling under as I did and the abuse came again - how he was going to kick the shit out of me if he had to jump in after me. I looked at him, managed about two steps before I went under again. The next thing was him picking me up by the neck of my coveralls, hurling yet more abuse and dragging me to the end of this pit of shit.

I was dragged out of the pit by the now drenched and very pissed off bombardier, and I was ordered to complete the run back to the base - 3 miles, and I still don't know what happened but even through the pain and complete exhaustion something inside me switched, and I just started running. Well I say running, it was more of a spastic limp, but I just somehow knew I was not going to give up now. At this point the Bombardier had noticed I had not been lying and that I was in extreme pain and he offered me to rest up - I declined - I had just got it into my head that I was going to finish the course or it would finish me, and as I approached the barracks guard house I was joined by a few people who had already finished to egg me on all the way back to our block - you have no idea how much that can really lift you, and as I approached the block a load of people were there cheering me in - I had finished a clear 10 minutes after the person before me and quite sometime after the superfit lads. When I got to the block they had to strip me as I was so exhausted I could hardly manage. But I had - I'd done it - apparently 4 other guys had given up and I swear if it hadn't been for the bombardier seeing something in me so would I. I came last by a bloody mile, but because of my guts and determination was treated like a hero.

About an hour later I was back in my room, showered and back in my drill kit when the bombardier came in to see how I was. I explained that I had really screwed my ankle up but did not want to go to the doctor until thursday, as if you got signed off of duty for more than 2 days, you automatically failed - I knew if I could wing it for a couple of days I could still pass out with my colleagues. He agreed and then as he walked out of the room, just said as he went "That's one of the bravest things I have seen from a Soldier this morning" - It was then I realise just how far I had really pushed myself.

I lasted the course - just - I had to be pulled out of the fitness test after 3 laps of the parade ground at Woolwich, and then the saddest thing was being noticed that I couldn't stand to attention properly as we practised for our passing out parade. The final day, as all the families and friends were out on the parade ground, I had to open the doors and watch all my colleagues, all done up to the nines and proud as fuck marching out to pass out, knowing I had done so to, yet couldn't share the glory. Yeah I cried, I don't mind admitting but when you realise how much you have been pushed, what you have accomplished and just really what you can do, and not get the recognition for it, you'd probably do the same to.

The other thing was getting nominated for most improved recruit and getting a rousing round of applause in a class one day towards the end - No I didn't win, but amongst the competition I was in, the nomination was truly amazing.

Don't every time you hear about abuse cases by British Troops in Iraq, or violence out in Colchester pubs or similar think all squaddies are idiots and the Army is a bad thing. It introduced me to some of the most amazing people on whom you could be completely 100% reliant without even knowing their name. It made me realise that my own pre-defined limitations were not true, and that I could accomplish so much more, and that the Army made me truly proud of myself and gave me the confidence to attempt many things through life. The guy who is writing this would not be the same guy if he had not had this short time in the army - and my only regret is that I never enlisted full time.

Army? I fucking loved it.
(Sat 25th Mar 2006, 14:46, More)

» I'm your biggest Fan

Got three heroes is my life....
- Bobby Moore, My Dad and Ginger from the Wildhearts. Bobby Moore is sadly no longer with us, My Dad I owe my life to but this story is about the latter - one Geordie singer of the greatest band ever.

I fell in love with this band back in the 90's, as they seemed to be singing all about me. I got to see them a few times, until their collapse in 1997. Sad times - the drugs had got the better of them, and it was kind of inevitable.

However fast forward to 2001. I'm working in the Netherlands and had just received notice of my contract finishing in a month. Within a few minutes of this I also got the news they were reforming. I decided this feat needed to be properly appreciated, so I came up with the mad idea of getting together a few hardcore members ("listees") from the mailing list, hiring a bus and going to every show on the tour (including the warm up solo shows and Silverginger 5 dates). The response to the idea was a bus that was quickly filled up with like minded members from all over the world - The US, Japan, Germany, The UK, The Netherlands - it was all going to happen.

First gig was at my mates record shop in South Shields (the sadly defunct Changes One), memorable for the first ever live airing of the 10 minute opus "Sky Babies"- accompanied by Alex Kane of Antiproduct I was even invited on the stage to sing it as I knew all the words - I declined. Anyway after the gig I finally got to meet Ginger, and told him about a record he saught which I had tracked down and bought for him. I told him about the Busties tour, and how we might see a bit more of eachother.

Anyway we made all the gigs, the second night I got completely drunk, as did Ginger and we ended up as only drunks do, hugging and confessing our undying love for eachother (we are both men, so no sordid ideas - just man love, you know?). We then proceeded on the tour to Glasgow where the Bus was hired and the original and hardcore busties ammassed. We hadn't met all of them before, but two women on that bus became historical with me. The first was a German who became my stalker, following me relentlessly, and freaking me the fuck out. The second was V, a very beautiful American girl who I know realise I fell in love with instantly.

Bear with me as this is important - The gigs continued with legendary status - people got lost from legs of the tour, the bus broke down three times, and the German stalker began to seriously freak me out, much to the mirth of the other people on the bus. At the gig in Dudley, I was trying to pursuade one of the girls to get off with me just to throw her off - I even considered the offer of one of the fellers, but the best thing of all was, after the very dissapointing show (the Bass player had problems and collapsed on the stage) I went to the bar with V, we got talking, hit it off and then spent the night together. The next morning everyone was pissed off with the show and the van breaking down again, yet me and her were in that post-coital bliss which was blatantly evident to everyone else.

Back to the Wildhearts - anyway we did the whole tour and became well known to the band for our efforts. It grew friendships you cherish for life. One of our crew, the Infamous Trace we lost to cancer a couple of years back and is very sadly missed. Friendships formed with the band, and with a couple of fellow fans, we took over the operation of their website, and I got not only to photograph them, but was held in so high esteem I got to tour with them for 10 nights, along with Therapy? which is worth writing a book about. I've got to know Ginger at his best and at his worst, but at his best he has said some of the most touching and wonderful things about my efforts and work. He's also been a cunt at times, but I guess you can say the upside of that is that I have truly gotten to know one of my heroes, and I still hold him in that esteem.

But there is one thing that he blessed me with more than anything. The relationship I had with V - we fell in love, albeit her in the US, me in Amsterdam. We got to see eachother a few times a year, but sadly with long distance relationships, they break down, which was so sad as she was/is the love of my life. I still love her very deeply, yet I haven't seen her in 6 years. But tomorrow, I'll fix that - she lands here at 8.20am to come and live with me. I don't know if reconciliation is possible, she has a lot of sore memories of the breakup, but she loved me, and I am sure, still does a little. Tomorrow my new life starts, and this time its with hope and understanding, as I really do love this woman.

So one of my heroes changed my life in so many ways - if you hadn't written those wonderful songs I would never have met her. And I would never have realised my potential as a photographer, made the friends I have, or had anything like the memories I cherish. And that Ginger, makes you a hero of the highest fucking order, and I love you for that.
(Sun 19th Apr 2009, 10:13, More)

» Weddings

Nervous? moi?
I was best man to my best mate a few years back up in Lancashire (him and me are both southerners so a bit of a novelty). Anyway my mate who is cool as a cucumber the whole day whilst if anyone is a tad nervous its me. Anyway just before I had to do my best mans speech (which was totally unprepared) I nipped out for a crafty fag, and standing there was the father of the bride and a few other distinguished guests. The Dad Steve, a top bloke and sadly no longer with us, asks if I am nervous about the up and coming speech, to which I replied not verbally but with a 7 second fart of bronx proportions.

The round of applause amongst the small but distinguished smokers was akin to that of an oscar winner.
(Fri 15th Jul 2005, 6:33, More)

» What's the most horrific thing you've seen?

Dunno if its the most horrific...
..but certainly good for a laugh.

Me and one of my best mates had gone out for a few sherberts in London a few years back and were on the tube back to Highgate where he lived. As we sat down on the bench seat we were stuck between a young couple and a rather drunken gentleman.

The young lady was complaining that she had never drank champagne before and was feeling woozy, whilst her date for the night was far more interested in just getting her home an investigating the inside of her knickers no doubt. We then looked across at the gent the other side who was turning a slightly greenish colour, so my mate jesticulated towards the door vestibule for safety.

The young girl then complained she thought she might throw up, which sent a look of alarm on the other gents face as he was obviously trying to pervent chundering himself, but as sure as shit stinks, the young lady bolted forward and puked. The guy the other side seeing the contents of her stomach and smelling them, naturally could hold it no more and puked himself. The young girl saw his vomitus, almost as if they were in competition hauled up a second load.

My mate, in a moment of genius produced a plastic knife and spoon from his pocket and threw it between them, suggesting something along the lines of 'we're off for a chinese right now, but seing you are not joining us and in caseyour stomach is a bit empty, have a go at clearing up with these!'

Upon seeing the sporks, both of them starting throwing up in tandem, whilst the guy who's luck was out just glared at us in despair. We naturally were too busy pissing ourselves laughing to care.
(Fri 22nd Jun 2007, 11:04, More)

» Lies I told on my CV

I've had a checkered life
But my cv contains no lies - I have though had I think 21 jobs since I left school at 16, and I am only 37 which is not too bad - thankfully commitment has never been a problem with prospective employers - after all you can always tell them it was a contract.

I've been in IT since 1987, with a couple of moments away, including being a cabinet maker for Trace Elliot (they make bass amps for the rich and famous), A musician in the BRitish Army and a photographer to some famous rock bands (which have got me interviews just because people want to know what Alice Cooper is really like - How would I know from shooting thre songs from the photographers pit?). But I can list people like the European Space Agency, Coca Cola and Nike amongst my previous employers, so that carries some weight.

I'm not here to boast of my lies, but to maybe offer some advice - when I was out of IT I got back in by being a recruitment consultant and learned about how or how not to write a CV, so if I can help those out there searching, I'll sleep better.

1. Never short sell yourself - be proud of what you have done, no matter how insignificant it may seem - authority, responibility and accountability are things any employers love to see - even if it is when you are trying to get on the career ladder and have worked only part time at threshers.

2. Relevance - there is the rule of 5 - if you think you are not good enough for a job because although you can program in C, have a degree in microbiology, speak fluent swahili and can ride a unicycle but don't have experience of cooking mufffins that's fine - most job specs want the perfect candidate and of they list the above or similar most ridiculous things, mention in the cover letter that I can a), I can b) I can c) and I can d) (maybe dropping examples of each) but then write I am lacking in knowledge of e) but I am willing to learn - that will get you oin for interview - normally by the third yes difficult employers will be overawed you have 60% of the requirement.

3. A willingness to learn is often far more important than a lack of experience - just back it up with examples

4. Pride - if you have done something, something you may think is irrelevant but you talk with pride about it on your cv or in an interview, the passion will win you points.

5. Lying - DON'T. If you are a year off a degree be honest, but back it up by what you have done that is relevant - Liers get caught out and believe me there are networks and forums that will name abnd shame you.

6. Be yourself! Don't worry about going into and interview and not getting the job - there are plenty more out there that are better, and believe me what may look like the perfect job can actually turn out to be pure hell (I'm there right now - but I am getting out of it on my terms)

7. Hobbies and interests - true stories - I used to list Playing the guitar, travel and photography as my hobbies - one interview I was asked if I really went out on a Friday night and travelled afar to take pictures of my guitar - my response? "No Dave Mate, I go out and get wankered with my mates"- I got the job on the spot (and at a city company in the IT sector attached to the insurance industry) - this is a rare example but sometimes putting something as broad as "socialising" on your CV will get you a lot further than pretending you enjoy knitting - remember the people accross the desk may enjoy a pint as well - it also shows that you do not have problems with mixing with people and communicatinm, if even after a pint.

Well I am sure that is more, but for you young'uns I hope that helps - good luck in whatever you chose to do with your life - I hope it takes you to half the places I have been or am going and you always have a couple of quid on your pocket for a kebab and a beer because of it!
(Thu 6th Jul 2006, 22:19, More)