Doctor Who Watch #2

Episode Two: The Fires Of Pompeii by James Moran (Or should that be James Moron. Oh, the wit!)

Yes, well... This one dragged a bit. The Sisterhood were dull and pointless, providing no real threat. I couldn’t stop picturing Phil Davies as Wilfred Brambell, which made his turn as Chief Baddie almost laughable. The Latin jokes went WAY over my head, as I don’t know any Latin. (Despite three Latin lessons at school with the lovely Miss Cornforth: “Get to the Naughty Table! Wayne, Kirsty... Stop bullying Craig”)

Donna convinced The Doctor to save Sid’s Dead Dad (the glorious Peter Capaldi) and the rest of his family. It was quite moving, and good to see her standing up to the Doctor. But if they should have died, and history was changed so they lived... Where were the Reapers? The whole point of Father’s Day (Series One) was that history had been changed by Rose saving her Dad from dying, and that was BAD. So why don’t the Reapers come to clean ‘The Wound In Time’ when the Doctor saves a whole family from the death that they were destined to have? Or am I misunderstanding the whole ‘Time-Space-Paradox-Bollox’ stuff?

Either way, I don’t get how the Doctor could have saved this family without consequence?

It was a moving episode though, and Catherine Tate was – again – fantastic as Donna. She made me shed a small tear. The last twenty minutes were gripping, thought-provoking and moving... But the slow start really stopped this from being as epic as it promised. A great episode, but not the classic it should have been.

Total Score: SEVEN out of TEN

Doctor Who Watch #1

Episode One: Partners In Crime by Russell T. Davies, who is a little bit gay.

I can’t recall looking forward to an episode quite as much as this one. After the rather awful Christmas special (Too many deaths, too little substance, too much Kylie and the spazziest baddie EVER!) I was looking forward to the start of the series proper. Especially after the seeing the trailer in the cinema, which made the excitement just too much to bear. In the event, I was a little disappointed.

It had been built it up so much, that I was expecting something amazing. As it was, all we got was another ‘First Episode’ – The one where everything has to be set up. The one where RTD makes us care about the new assistant. The one that establishes the dynamic between Doctor and assistant. A fun little episode that doesn’t even begin to compare to those that will no doubt follow.

(If you had the choice, would you rather watch Rose or The Empty Child…? That is clearly a rhetorical question. I don’t expect anyone to be sad enough to have even made it to this paragraph, let alone start answering the questions sprinkled within.)

Obviously, RTD can’t open a series – and lets not forget it IS a kids show – with a dark, sinister, frankly depressing episode like The Last Of The Time Lords. But a BIT of an edge wouldn’t have gone amiss.

The villains of the piece were so cute that it was hard to understand why the Doctor was trying to stop them. Ah, the Adipose. I want one. Someone buy me one. It can sit on my bed next to AlanYentob, looking all nice and cuddly.

Nice and cuddly… Not really want you want from a Doctor Who foe.

But there were still some things to enjoy. Lots, in fact. The first twenty minutes where the Doctor and Donna keep missing each other was a nice new take on the whole ‘Doctor meeting his assistant’ thing. And the silent conversation they have when they first clap eyes on each other did make me do an out-loud chuckle for a few seconds. Even if my lip-reading skills weren’t quite good enough to understand what the hell was going on.

Raquel from Coronation Street, doing her best impression of Jo Frost from Supernanny, was a really good baddie. Sinister and camp-as-arseholes… THAT is what you want from a Doctor Who foe! (Although if she’d searched high-and-low for somewhere that was as “Beautifully Fat” as the UK… Why the hell didn’t she try America?!)

Whoever thought to hire Bernard Cribbins to play Donna’s Granddad should be knighted for services to genius casting. If he’s not the new assistant for Series Five, I’m going to stop watching!

David Tennant did his usual bit. As good as always, but still not quite Christopher Eccleston. And as for Catherine Tate…The thing about hiring a woman like Catherine Tate is that she is not as conventionally attractive as Billie Piper or that other bint. Most TV Critics are sleazy, smug old men who judge a programme, not on its quality, but on how pretty the cast are. So suddenly the reviews for this series have been a lot less glowing… Slating the whole of Doctor Who, just because they don’t want to bash one out over Catherine Tate.

I think she’s fucking wonderful though. She’s toned down the ‘Shouty Old Harridan’ act since the last time we saw her in the 2006 Christmas Special (although I enjoyed THAT too!) and looks set to be my favourite assistant. She’s got a genuinely funny rapport with Mr Tennant, yet I’m quite sure she’s going to be a revelation when it comes to all the emotional stuff.

Her asking the Doctor “Don’t you want me?” was heartbreaking, and hopefully a small indication of what she is capable of. I can’t wait to see where these next twelve episodes take the character of Donna. Hopefully to some darker, more dramatic situations than those of Episode One. I’m looking forward to the ride…

Total Score: SEVEN out of TEN

Accelerate & Alcohol

Myself and Bex had booked into a cockroach-free hotel in Kensington (which, judging on past experiences, appears to be somewhat of a rarity) for a night of Alcohol and Accelerate.

Accelerate is REM’s new album. Alcohol is… well, you know what Alcohol is, surely?!

So, we popped to a nearby shop for supplies (Mmm… Scampi Nik-Naks! When did they make a comeback?!) and we managed to get into a small argument with Mrs Cunt Behind The Till. She tried to give us a fake ten pound note.

“It’s fine. Take it. It’s fine. You can use it in other shops. It’s fine. Get out. Get out of my shop. Don’t you dare question me. It’s fine. It’s a proper ten pound note. Get out. Get out. Thank you for calling!”

She also prices her Malibu ridiculously high. £18 for a small bottle?! In the words of Turkey Farmer Bernard Manning, it was a “fucking disgrace”. If I wasn’t so thirsty – a whole MONTH without a drop of alcohol passing my lips – there probably would have been another argument.

“It’s fine. Buy it. It’s fine. It costs that much in other shops. Honestly. Stop looking at the price tag and just pay me. Get out. Get out of my shop…”

She was a bit of a cunt.

We retired to our hotel room for a couple of drinks, a listen to some of the new songs on Accelerate and a rinse of our private parts.

We then grabbed a small – or, in my case, a HUGE – bite to eat at the local Wagamamamamama’s. I thought it was just a rumour, but asparagus really DOES make your piss – and sex piss – stink. Nasty business.

After squeezing my fat gut out of Wagamamamamamamamama’s, we headed towards the Uncle Albert Hall. As regular readers of my shit witterings will know, this is where I saw the Flaming Lips. I should have been watching Tooth & Claw – Episode Two, Series Two of Doctor Who – but instead, Foxy Bellend decided to drag us to the very highest seats and force us to watch a man in a ball singing songs that were sadly not Fight Test.

From that night on, I’ve always shuddered at the mere mention of the place. I always thought it to be a completely shite venue. And, I guess, if you’re high up with an awful view (as we were at the Flaming Lips), then it IS a pretty shite venue and you ARE going to have a crap time. But if you happen to be in a BOX…

:-p

Oh yes, a BOX. A velvety, private box, with coathangers, a table and enough room to swing a cat. If pets were allowed, obviously. We shared the box with just three other people – two old twats and a bloke who looked perfectly normal but, as he was on his own at a gig, was probably a bit of a suspect individual. It was GREAT! No having to get half the audience to stand up and move out your way every time you need to make piss. No chance of getting into a fight with someone by accidentally jumping on their toes… mentioning no names, Mr Bellend.

It was perfect!

I could have quite happily spent three hours marvelling at what a fantastic BOX it was. Which would have been a better way of spending my time than sitting through the tedious support acts:

FOALS – Ridiculous haircuts. The guitarist looked like he was having a seizure. Their songs were just noise. They weren’t particularly pretty. Made me long for the days of Idlewild and their threat of “We’re going to sing TEN songs for you now!”

DUKE SPIRIT or DUKE SPECIAL, I don’t know which – For a start, I can’t remember their name, so they can’t have been that good. And they weren’t. The banshee on lead vocals was doing her best to try and beat The Go! Team as Worst Support Act We’ve Ever Seen. She may have succeeded.

ROBYN HITCHCOCK – Pretty. A couple of nice acoustic numbers, but nothing amazing. Made for a nice toilet break, though.

And then, after stocking up on Vodka & Coke from the Delightful Foreign Gentleman at the bar, we took our seats once more for the main event… REM!

Living Well Is The Best Revenge and Man-Sized Wreath – two tracks from the new album – opened the show, with the latter being one of the highlights of the entire night. When the not-bad-for-his-age Michael Stipe warned the audience that the night was going to be “loud”, he wasn’t kidding. They did, in fact, rock!

The new tracks were good – some better than good, such as Supernatural Superserious – but obviously I was dying to hear the old favourites.

Losing My Religion, Imitation Of Life, The Great Beyond, Drive, Electrolite and the always-amazing finale of Man On The Moon made for an unforgettable evening. Could have done with less new stuff and more old songs, but it was still a fantastic night. In a fantastic venue, as it turned out. It was the BOX that did it!

Hearing them perform Leave would have made it even better, though! Eh, Bex?

Newspaper Story Of The Week

Front Page of the Daily Sport this Friday...

KILLED BY THE BOSS!

An Australian woman has admitted that she stabbed her husband following a row over a Bruce Springsteen CD.

Karen Lee Cooper pleaded guilty to manslaughter and will face eight years in prison for killing her partner of two years Kevin Watson at their home in Queensland in 2006.

Her charge was downgraded from murder after the court accepted she never intended to kill Watson. The court was told that Cooper, who had been drinking at their Cedar Grove home, attacked Watson with a kitchen knife after he told her to take a Springsteen album off the stereo.

In a recorded police interview, Cooper said: "I couldn't even play Bruce Springsteen on my stereo. Can you believe that? Can you believe that?"

"I mean, who doesn't like Bruce Springsteen? I'm 49 years old and I want to play my own music."


Well, exactly... Who doesn't like Bruce Springsteen? What a perfectly reasonable reason for killing your husband to death. Who doesn't like Bruce Springsteen? I'd have stabbed him, too. May he burn in hell...

Last.FM Charts For 2007

Once again, here be a round-up of the most-played songs from the past year, courtesy of those little chart-makers at Last.Fm. Aren't they brilliant? I mean, how else would you find out that I'd listened to McFly a total of 437 times in twelve months? You can't put a price on information like that. So, last year a surprise victory for When You Were Young by The Killers. Can they make it two-years running at the top of my charts? Drumroll please...

50 - Somebody Told Me by The Killers
49 - I Promised Myself by A*Teens
48 - Sound Of The City by Tom McRae
47 - Accidental Babies by Damien Rice
46 - Big Girl (You Are Beautiful) by Mika
45 - Grey Room by Damien Rice
44 - There Must Be An Angel by No Angels
43 - Rainy Monday by Shiny Toy Guns
42 - Who Knew by Pink
41 - Heartbeats by Jose Gonzalez
40 - Born To Run by Bruce Springsteen
39 - Life On Mars by Michelle Branch
38 - Chances Are by Vonda Shepard
37 - Something Kinda Oooh by Girls Aloud
36 - Maybe by No Angels
35 - Got A Suitcase, Got Regrets by Tom McRae
34 - In Too Deep by Genesis
33 - The Origin Of Love by Hedwig And The Angry Inch
32 - You Only Disappear by Tom McRae
31 - The Blower's Daughter by Damien Rice
30 - Atlantis 2002 by No Angels
29 - Cannonball by Damien Rice
28 - Love Changes Everything by Sarah Brightman
27 - 9 Crimes by Damien Rice
26 - The Power Of Love by Celine Dion
25 - I've Been High by REM
24 - Kiss-A-Licious by Excellence
23 - Where Is Your Love by No Angels
22 - Angel Of The Morning by Thunderbugs
21 - Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright
20 - Don't Stop The Music by Play
19 - Grace Kelly by Mika
18 - Le Disko by Shiny Toy Guns
17 - Such Great Heights by Postal Service
16 - One Of Us by A*Teens
15 - You Are The One by Shiny Toy Guns
14 - Soulmate by Natasha Bedingfield
13 - Lola by McFly & Busted
12 - Be Mine! by Robyn
11 - La Cienega Just Smiled by Ryan Adams
10 - The Bleeding Heart Show by The New Pornographers
09 - Challengers by The New Pornographers
08 - The Reason by Hoobastank
07 - What Is This Feeling? by Wicked
06 - Starts With One by Shiny Toy Guns
05 - Run by Snow Patrol
04 - One Mississippi by Tom McRae
03 - Out Of This by Tom McRae
02 - Silent Boulevard by Tom McRae
01 - Oh Yeah by Tom McRae

So that'll be a no... When You Were Young didn't even make it into the Top 50 this year! That's quite a drop. Instead, Mr Tom McRae returns to his rightful position of No1, with his beautiful cover version of Oh Yeah. Looking at the chart, it was quite a year for Tom McRae. And before I start to analyse that in any great detail, I'm going to fuck off. I know this is of no interest to anyone but me. (Although feel free to check back next year to see if Tom can make it a second year at the top...)

Goodbye To All That

For some bizarre reason, I remember it with frightening clarity.

May 17th 2004.

A Monday, in fact. The weather was clement. My boyfriend of a mere two days had come round and we spent the day in the garden, chatting and generally finding out more about each other. We sat there on the bench by my Fat Dad's shed, enjoying the sunshine and topping up our tans. I tried not to scream every time a bee came near me, as I didn’t want to look like a wimp in front of this young man I was supposed to be impressing. I failed miserably.

We drank Malibu and Coke, which is probably what attracted the bees in the first place. We listened to Don Henley’s Boys Of Summer... And some cheesy-pop shite that he’d bought in HMV on the way over. My tubby next-door neighbour came out and hung some clothes on her washing line. She said ‘Hello’. I didn’t.

(Three and a half years ago – Why do I still remember details like that?!)

And then the phone rang. I dashed into the house to pick it up, and in doing so remembered I’d drunk pretty much a whole bottle of Malibu. I tried desperately not to slur my words as I answered the call:

- “Hello, can I speak to Wayne please?”
- “Ssshhhhhhhhhpeaking...”

It was Yvonne. Lovely, lovely Yvonne. She was ringing to inform me that I had got the job of News Analyst at a below-par media monitoring company based in Bromley. I was ecstatic.

- “Thank you ssshhhoo muchhh, I can sshhhhtart on Wednessshhhday”

It seems weird now, but I was genuinely over the moon. I’d been unemployed for about seven months, and it was really getting me down. The Fat Dad had been ever-so politely requesting that I might want to “GET A FUCKING JOB!” every single day of those seven months. I’d had rejection letter after rejection letter, and when I did finally get some interviews, I managed to cock them up spectacularly. Mainly by just attending. And now I had a new gentleman in my life, I was in need of a bit of dollar to subsidise our ‘wild party lifestyle’.

So getting that phone call from Yvonne – lovely, lovely Yvonne – was a turning point. Pathetic as it may sound, May 17th 2004 was one of the happiest days of my life. Well... Certainly in the Top 500. Maybe? Possibly?

Except then, of course, came the reality. Working nights AND weekends was never going to be a barrel of fun, but even I - pessimist that I am - failed to comprehend just how bad it would be. I missed out on random nights of drinking, I lost touch with friends purely because I was never free to see them... My health suffered, as it does with most people on nights. (I mean, look at Marilyn – Nothing to do with the 87 cigarettes she smokes a day. NO – purely down to night work!)

I lost all my energy and enthusiasm – I just felt like a zombie. And any relationships I found myself in seemed to crash and burn spectacularly. Not that I’m blaming it ALL on night work – Me being a twat probably had a lot more to do with it! But the stupid working hours certainly didn’t help matters. I was always tired or too busy sleeping to do anything fun. Too tired to do anything other than laze around watching TV and eating pizza. And sooner or later, that was bound to cause problems. Everything became a bit too routine. A bit too boring.

I should have left the company after the first relationship died a death, but I enjoyed the job. And I was good at it. (Totally 100% amazing, I’m sure you’ll all agree!) Pay rises, promotions and a four-day week all convinced me to stick around. Tricked me into thinking that things would get better. It was a bit like being an abused wife. I’d put up with all the shit just for that little glimmer of hope. It was like being Little Mo to Eggplant’s Trevor. We’d have a falling out, Eggplant would make good by saying nice things about me or offering me a pay rise, then out of nowhere things would deteriorate and Eggplant would shove my face in the Christmas dinner or rape me on the bathroom floor.

But nothing the company offered could give me back my energy, or my weekends, or my social life, or my ability to hold down a relationship. So after three and a half years, I think it’s about time I reclaimed all those things.

30th November 2007.

A Friday, in fact. The weather may or may not be clement, but either way, it will be my last-ever night shift at a below-par media monitoring company. After three and a half years, I am heading to pastures new.

Given the negative impact the job has had on all aspects of my life, you would think I’d be overjoyed. Yet, for some reason, I’m not. Maybe it’s fear of change (as per usual) or maybe it’s just because – despite everything – there are certain things I’m really going to miss...

The people. (No, REALLY! Stop sniggering at the back!)

Not everyone, obviously. Let’s face it, the night-shift is blessed with a few odd sorts. But there are a few people I’m going to miss working with. I’m certainly going to miss Dave and his lovely collection of ridiculous sighs/grunts/cusses/bodily excretions. John The Paper “Boy” and his amazing musical bumhole. Donna and her early morning rants! (I actually WILL miss Donna – She made me chuckle for the last two hours of every shift, which was certainly needed at 6am!)

I will miss reading the papers, particularly the Mariella Frostrup column. And Vicky & Octavia in Stella Magazine! And the bloke from the Gucci adverts!

:-p

I’ll also miss bitching about the ineptitude of certain management-type people, which was a popular pastime and pretty much helped get me through the night! And I do have some fond memories. Mainly every day Perry came into the office wearing just a vest! And CERTAINLY the day Mr C came into the office with his tits hanging out of a mothballed-cardigan! Such visual treats!

There was the ‘salacious gossip’ about a former Big Boss Man. It shocked us to the very core, so it did.

Happy memories of sneaking off with my mobile phone to receive drunken texts of varying sauciness, then going back into the office as if nothing had happened!

FIFTY whole hours of awake-ness, due to work, REM concert and then work again. By the end of the shift I was dribbling, falling in and out of sleep, and hallucinating that I’d entered the names of people I know into the Journalist field by mistake. My GOD, that was a long fifty hours!

Dirty Kebabs with Mr Soo. The constant cries of "Can I go home now?" from Chris. Geoff's first-day snottage. Melvin and Perry furnishing the nightshift with seventy-twelve bags of chips after the Christmas Party. The Pretty One from Dayshift who I may have ever-so-slightly, just a little bit, lusted over every now and then. Wonder what happened to him...?

New Years Eve... Staggering back from Geoff’s, pissed as a bollock and deciding not to go home to sleep. Instead, I decided to make my way to the office (as it was nearer than my house) and sleep on the floor in Yvonne’s office – lovely, lovely Yvonne – before waking at 10am with dribble all over my face and terrible backache from the nasty, hard floor.

But without a shadow of a doubt, my favourite time at Eggplant was the whole ‘Jill/Dennis’ Era during 2006.

Infuriating and hilarious in equal measure, it was five months of ridiculous accusations (“Boys Club!”), wonderful questions (“What do you mean by ‘Click On The Start Menu’?!”) and mind-numbing stupidity (Have you seen Jill try and use a mouse?!)

Dennis was okay, if a little thick (as shit) but JILL... JILL and her Pretty Left Tit... My GOD, that woman was a fucking nightmare!! I just couldn’t believe how annoyed and amused I could be by one person. I wouldn’t stop ranting about her. Even at home! If Jill knew how many post-coital conversations she’d popped up in, I think she’d be stunned... And a little afraid. But I just couldn’t stop talking about her absolute, unequivocal, unbeatable retardation. It was probably one of the reasons my other half stopped asking me how my day had been... For fear I’d just launch into another tirade! He felt he knew Jill so well he was tempted to invite her along for Christmas Dinner! (And her Guardian-poster collecting daughter! What a Christmas that would have been!)

Jill and her Pretty Left Tit. If nothing else, she added a little excitement to the shift. It was fun guessing who she’d make a complaint against next! It was a sad day when she was asked to leave the company. I miss her so.

Who knows... Maybe she’ll be there waiting for me at my new place of work?! We can but hope...

So, that’s that. The end of an era. (‘Pull your baby nearer...’)

And the weird thing is, even though I KNOW it’s for the best, I’m still quite sad about it. Part of me doesn’t know how to end this entry. Part of me doesn’t want to end it. It becomes final then, I guess. No turning back.

Maybe that’s why I’m still typing.... Still typing... Still typing... Still typing...

Last.FM Charts For 2006

And now for the second in an occasional series of blogs. I say 'occasional' - it's pretty much designed to be once a year. It's time to reveal the songs I listened to the most during the slightly-above-average year of 2006. Ladbrokes have been taking bets, you know.

Can Silent Boulevard cling onto the top spot for a second year running? Are the charts as overrun with soppy love songs as this time last year? Just how many times can one man listen to Run? The answers to all these questions, and many more that are almost-certainly on the tips of your tongues, can be found below.

In association with the sexy number goblins at Last.Fm, here are My Most-Played Songs Of 2006.


50 - Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen

49 - I Need A House by Marie Serneholt

48 - Grey Room by Damien Rice

47 - London Bridge by Fergie

46 - I Wanna Be Bad by Willa Ford

45 - Hippies In The 60's by Meja

44 - Cannonball by Damien Rice

43 - America by Razorlight

42 - I've Been High by REM

41 - Don't Give Up by The Feeling

40 - Rama Lama Ding Dong by The Preluders

39 - Love Will Tear Us Apart by Honeyroot

38 - Don't Stop The Music by Play

37 - Leave by REM

36 - Don't Give Up by Peter Gabriel & Kate Bush

35 - You're Still The One by Shania Twain

34 - Total Eclipse Of The Heart by Westlife

33 - All Good Things (Come To An End) by Nelly Furtado

32 - One More Night Alone by Friday Hill

31 - Zombie by The Cranberries

30 - Wind It Up by Gwen Stefani

29 - Kick Some Ass by Stroke 9

28 - Should I Stay by Gabrielle

27 - Accidental Babies by Damien Rice

26 - Unfaithful by Rihanna

25 - 9 Crimes by Damien Rice

24 - Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

23 - Mistake by Stephanie McIntosh

22 - No Tomorrow by Orson

21 - Show Me Heaven by Maria McKee

20 - Afterglow by Genesis

19 - The Power Of Love by Jennifer Rush

18 - Heartbeats by Jose Gonzalez

17 - What Hurts The Most by Jo O'Meara

16 - Goodbye To You by Michelle Branch

15 - I Know Him So Well by Elaine Paige & Barbara Dickson

14 - Stay With You by The Goo Goo Dolls

13 - Angel Of The Morning by Thunderbugs

12 - Because Of You by Kelly Clarkson

11 - The Reason by Hoobastank

10 - Bones by The Killers

09 - Love Changes Everything by Sarah Brightman

08 - You Are The Generation Who Bought More Shoes by Johnny Boy

07 - Who Knew by Pink

06 - The Origin Of Love by Hedwig & The Angry Inch

05 - The Bleeding Heart Show by The New Pornographers

04 - Run by Snow Patrol

03 - Silent Boulevard by Tom McRae

02 - Oh Yeah by Tom McRae

01 - When You Were Young by The Killers


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