Poison

For a while I collected bottletops when I was a boy, and now my own son has started doing the same. I can't see him "topping" this, however!

Pete,
Cambridge

My Wigan Leigh Laryngectomee Club Pen

I don't think I could ever be parted with this, for instance.

Little job for Sisyphus.

I was talking to Sas in The Red Cow the other night and he referred to my "archive", which made me do a little doubletake, since talking about my "archive" is a bit like talking about my "career." Also, it sounded like he meant archive in the wider sense, i.e. every single bit of crap in my room, and he was asking if I documented everything. What madness that would be!

My Choc Shop boycott starts now.

The plan was simple. Bike down to The Chocolate Shop (Turkish place, formerly Shan’s Stores), purchase a gentleman’s deal on the Stellas, and then swing back up to the Co-Op for the tinned toms and mixed beans to be home in time for the first World Cup game. It was only once I was hoovering the cans off the shelf and into my basket that I realized a potential flaw in my schematics – I potentially didn’t have quite enough cash on me, and I was aware that mercantile capitalism can be unforgiving in this regard. However, a somewhat selfconscious scrabbling in my bag produced a few rogue coins that would take me up to the fiver. Phew. Unfortunately, one of those coins was a pound that I had recently thought myself lucky to spot half buried in the dirt at Coleridge Recreation Ground. Exposure to varying climactic conditions and mineral contamination had turned it kinda brown.

“No no no. What’s this? It’s dodgy” decided the man behind the counter.

“No, it’s alright. It’s a real pound. It’s just a bit dirty” I tried to explain, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“It’s OK,” I insisted. “Any bank will take that. I actually found this coin on the ground. It’s just a bit dirty.”

Still no joy. I breathed out, and did some more scrabbling in my man-purse. Contrary to my expectations, it did seem as if I was still able to scrape together the five pounds without relying on my “dodgy” pound.

At this point, however, the geezer obviously felt he was on a bit of a roll when it came to turning down business, because he then decided to refuse to accept one of my 5p pieces on the grounds that it, too, was tarnished in some way. It was a little grubby, but not in the weatherbeaten sense that the pound coin had been, and to my way of thinking, it was only five fucking pee out of five fucking pounds so what was the problem? I was of course quiveringly livid by this point, and a small queue had formed behind me to bear witness to my humiliation.

“OK”, I said, “just to be absolutely sure, please tell me if there are any further coins you have objections to accepting.” I was trying to draw attention the ridiculous pettiness of his position, but it didn’t seem to work. He indicated that I should take my money and leave. I gave him a sort of “fuck you and all your antecedents” look and left, swearing that that 5p would cost him at least £200 pound worth of lost business in gentlemen’s deals by the time my liver packs in. What a fucking sucker of cocks.

Funnily enough, when I looked in my wallet in Mace, which is fifty yards down the road and also offers the gentleman’s on Stella, I discovered I had an extra two pound coin amongst my change. Matey had somehow included it when he contemptuously handed my money back. This didn’t mollify me in any way, but it’s a nice screwy little detail in the whole poxy episode.

Scan of the actual coins included.

What are you doing to fight injustice?

Rich, as you can see, already has the swing of it.

I'm sorting thru old discs...

Me and Steve Adams prepare to leave the planet.

Barrelass!

The Um Rock Family Tree is quite difficult to get your head around, but here is the dubious looking fruit that hangs pendulously off of one branch. Ladies, I give you Barrelass.

The mighty Barrelass featured the Blunt Brothers, of course.

sp00ki (US citizen, 26) trawls internet looking for stuff to hate...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QR61IkH10XU

Check out the comment someone has put under my film on YouTube. What is it with these people? Where is the love?

Bobby J gives his speech.

My brother gives a speech at lord Charles' wedding. I like his fat, drunken, wedding-speech body language.

If you go here:

http://images.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio1/sonar/images/RFjohnshopping.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio1/sonar/peel_diaries.shtml&h=150&w=200&sz=7&tbnid=ECV5jAmX4viBxM:&tbnh=74&tbnw=99&hl=en&start=2&prev=/images%3Fq%3Djohn%2Bpeel%2Brecord%2Bshopping%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official_s%26sa%3DG

Christ, that's a long link... is that right?

You get a picture of John Peel (or possibly his producer Louise, or maybe even someone else) holding our pal Felix Kubin's record.

YouTube evidence of the hassle.

If you go to http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=damnsavage you can see footage of me getting hassled to fuck by various abusive ladies, and there's also a link to my website where you can read about the experience in full.