I NEED THIS!

See Your Tea, Never Tinker

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DIE ANTWOOD DIE!

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KING AMONGST ANTS #1 DWIGHT SCHRUTE

NARD STAY HARD WUAR By BIG BABY HEY ZEUS

Well our kid, ah nah nuffin ov thuh context, but ah tell thee, elluva showmun, is that ma lad.  Costoome chenges, dansin, crowd persipi'tayshun.  Ee's a good lad that Nardwaar lad.  Nee doowt. 

MEALZ 4 MEN sei

3.20am Edition. Veggie Satay stir fry and a glassamulk...

ISSUE FOUR

ISSUE FOUR handed out at Nice'N'Sleazys, Glasgow, April 5th 2013.  It was the Casual Sex 'Stroh 80/Soft School' Single Launch Night -You can get yourself a copy of the single at all good music shops and online retailers -  Playing the show were:  Asian Babes, The Amazing Snakeheads & Casual Sex. a night delivered promises.  The FREE poster with this FREE 'zine was this splendid offering:

This issue had pieces (of shit) from K West, Michelle Grevious & Munro P. Shagnasty and another new contributor by the name of Loverman and he was brutally honest observe:

NEW ISSUE! BLESS YOU.

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrright then you humps, Issue 4: The Horror Issue of D For Delinquent will be available to pick up and hold at The Causal Sex Stroh "80"/Soft School Single Launch at Nice 'N' Sleazys, Glasgow.  Playing that night are ASIAN BABES, THE AMAZING SNAKEHEADS & CASUAL SEX.   It's on the 5th of April 2013 and I'd advise you to go if you can, could be the last chance you'll get to see these three bands before everyone jumps on the band wagon and says they saw them first.
Here's a piece that wouldn't fit in/wasn't good enough by Elvis Safety:
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I’ve been asked to write a few words about Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’.  I’m not what you would call, qualified to do this, I’ve seen very few films and this is not one of them.  If asked to write about the works of Mathew Broderick there’d be a -AMAZING I’VE JUST CAUGHT A FLY BETWEEN MY THUMB AND FOREFINGER! BITE THE BIG ONE MYAGI! - few more words. 

So having never seen ‘The Birds’ or any other Alfred Hitchcock film I can only imagine what it’s about.  And boy does it sound like the kind of film I’d like.  I’ve heard it’s a horror and rightly so, birds are quite scary especially when they try to blow you while drunk, never mind when they wake up hungover and weepy with make up all over their face, your face, white bedspread and walls.  They can never remember your name –or sometimes their own- but they can always remember that you filmed the previous night’s debauchery and insist on you deleting it.  The human mind is breath taking, annoying but none-the-less breath taking.      

Anyway, to the film! The best bit’s probably near the beginning when Hitchcock is cruising around nondescript suburban Lancashire in his SAAB while drinking Highland Commissioner neat to The Village People’s ‘Sleazy’ tastefully mixed into the background when he gets flagged over by a Myra Hindley-a-like at a bus stop.  A short innuendo fuelled flirtatious chat ensues and what comes natural to an aging yellow teethed man and a woman stranded in the worst area of Great Britain naturally occurs.  A short drive, more elevated dirty-talk, an abandoned Industrial Estate and a breathy clinch.  Ahh Hitchcock, only Hitchcock could leave her at the scene of the rut and absent mindedly forget he’s kept her entire bottom half of clothing and left shoe strewn over his ample back seat.    

I like how his film would push the boundaries of your standard bored middle class sex crazed homemade cinematography.  This Hitchcock blokes appropriating and pastiche-ing his little heart out.   He’s drawn inspiration from such films as Reservoir Dogs, Full Metal Jacket and Scum.   It’s a truly eclectic mix of styles and sexual preference.  Although it has the ability to please everyone that watches it, it’s also his downfall.  It’s just too much of a democracy.  While trying to appeal to a bigger market he’s alienated his loyal and already established fan base.

I’d imagine at this point in his directing, producing and acting career Hitchcock’s at a crossroads.  Carry on in the same way he has, which has earned him his already substantial following, resulting in a personal creative dilemma.   Do what his inspirational heart and aspirational mind are telling him and do what he feels right, risking the alienation of his fan base and the possibility of the greater gain of the mainstream pound.  Like only Hitchcock would do he’s tried to keep everyone happy.  At times it works, yet there is an underlying feeling of him asking everyone to ‘Please, please. please like me’.

I imagine poor Hitchcock’s had a rough time deciding whether to go ahead with this film.  On the whole I think it was the right decision.  He has perhaps received a lot, and I mean a lot of negative feedback from his puritan fans but he’s beautifully slid into the more a lucrative world of thinking men and ironic viewers.  I believe cigars and slaps on the backs should reign down on Mr Alfred Hitchcock for this monumental cinematic effort.   I can only advise ‘The Birds’ to open minded long term fans and first timers. 

BILINGUAL AYY, HE'S BEEN AWAY TOO LONG!

Domingo 23 Diciembre

 

Mañana en la mañana

 

 

“Me - coffee. You - money.”

Oh, yesterday. Maybe I’m lucky to be well and writing now, but even if so, I still feel like pure dogshit off the back of how the day played out. It’s like I’m still hitting the same walls that bruised the sense out of me 5000 miles away. The world ended and I missed it, but I hope that somehow I’ve learned something useful to deal with the new one.

It started well. I rose at madrugada, after a cue from Chang. He’d said that he was too ill to climb la Malinche with Victor the walking guide, but that I could meet him to go. No sign of Victor, so I set off instead to the next hill in view, prepared well with Mariana’s walking boots and wind-resistant jacket. The morning of blithe adventure takes in fields, goats, and a derelict hacienda, with a basement tunnel, and fantasies of finding a casket of Spanish gold beneath the wilderness. There’s also the discovery that Mariana was keeping M$4100 in cash in the jacket pocket - the treasure was right under my nose all along, but it wasn’t mine in the first place. The journey continues, traversing ravines that cry out for the rain to return.

Sweat pouring off me by the time I’m climbing the hill, I jump a fence to the secluded top and spend the afternoon sunbathing on my little mesa… but on the return journey la Malinche appears a lot closer. I send texts to reassure Mariana & Javier that I know where I’m going, but with la Malinche bearing down upon me, and ravines to traverse, I stray off course far enough that I’ve missed Casa Malinche, the neighbouring town, and the road to the highway completely. By dusk, I’m heading to a police inspection station on the highway. The traffic cop comes out and I start hacking out a conversation with him, between my pidgin Spanish and his non-existent English, and he’s got plenty of questions about the hacienda and what I’m doing there, but thankfully I’m too ignorant with the language to tell him much. When I mention getting a taxi to the hacienda, he says it’ll take 3 hours (lie) and that’s when I conceded to call Mariana. She arrives with Marianita 30 minutes later, and I sit silently in the back of the car while a casual interrogation plays out between her and the traffic cop. I can tell he’s getting details off her, and that she’s dealing with him tersely. I apologise on the drive back and then she gives me a roasting, about how the police aren’t the same as in my country, and how crooked they are. She hopes that cop was one of the nice ones, unlike the ones who got away with robbing her brother-in-law’s house a month ago. I hope that the M$20 mordida the traffic cop squeezed out of me before she came was enough to placate him, and keep fresh avarice from descending upon Casa Malinche. He was quite blunt about it, but I never let on that I had 4100 of Mariana’s smackeroos on me, and he thankfully had no pretext or inclination to search me.

 

I felt rotten when returning, on top of being physically spent, so I retired to an epic sulk / sleep. Plenty more to write about my journey, but I still stink and there are perros, perritos and pollos to feed.

 

 

MMM K WEST'S WANK WAREHOUSE ~ TITHER

"A hot priest is hard to find" said every altar boy ever. Look closer boys and you will find him in the world of Hollywood! Where dreams are created and then cruelly snatched away from you. But wank banks are forever, awww Father Caress Me, please come exorcise me soon. I can promise that I will swallow your holy water and will get on my knees and pray to your one true god of Hot Priest. Take ME, why is life so unfair that I can't find a hot priest to bless my sacrament and wash me of my sins. Gonna go on uniformdating.com and trawl for sexy priests but Eric the Midget in Carlisle was on it and I don't really want to go on a date with him in any uniform that he might put on. Can everyone remember the bin video?
Wet knicker rating: 4.5/5

MEALS 4 MEN cinque

Party Edition.  Asda's Smart Price vegetarian microwave large Yorkshire pudding for one & a can of Stella Artois Lager Beer...Actually at a party, extreme cuisine - making the best first impressions...

PISSED JEANS By ROGER FROM THE CRYPT.

Well, Well, Well, three ugly mugs and a monumental prick.  THE BEST LINE UP FOR A BAND.  4.5/5 

OOOOOOOOOOFT! FRANCIS TASTIC

This is a humdinger of a site yesiree!

DIRTY LITTLE SLOTS

I LIKE READING, COURSE I DO I'M A GROWN UP, ARE YOU A GROWN UP? I'M A GROWN UP, YOU'RE NOT A GROWN UP, WHEN ARE WE EVER FULLY GROWN? FERRERO ROCKER.

Wish my Dad knew how to use a computer or cared enough to write stories i could read when i'm his age.  Maybe he has and it'll be a pleasant surprise one day... rather that than a secret stash of nazi memrobelia or worse...

WEE DADDY McLUDGIE

WHAAAA?!?!?!! THEY'RE PUTTING MUSIC IN CONSOLE COMPUTER GAMES AND TELEVISION TALK SHOWS? By JACKSON BOLLOCK

Oh hey fellow scene-ster... You watch TV don't you? Of course you do.. I have done some deep research (used a search engine) and found out the name of the song on that new advert everyone's talking about.   It's the epic prog rock sounding Tame Impala 'Elephant'. Now this song is very catchy by the way, but it alone won't save the phone company it's advertising from going under in the near future.  But it does continue the tradition of indie bands who have slipped under most people's radars getting a little attention.  Also check out 'Half Full Glass of Wine' not bad, but most of their stuff belongs in the decade of which it is very heavily influenced.  Some of it sounds like Death from Above 1979, if they slipped into a time warp and emerged all pissed off with the bourgeois establishment or whatever movies have lied to me about what the 60's and 70's stood for. Cos I don't know what the fuck they were all rebelling against or trying to say... Most of the art and music sounds and looks shit to me.  You can tell my Dad played far too much early Genesis in our car when I was growing up...

It's wet outside as I'm sure you've noticed, so like many sad people I have retired to the sofa with an Xbox controller in hand... after playing Fifa 13 for a bit, I noticed some of the background tunes were ear achingly awful... Wretch 32's Blur makes me sad I have an ear canal... seriously, check out the lyrics... The man deserves to have his thumbs drop off so he can't write poison like it again.  That aside there are some bright spots in the smog cloud of shit.  And like in the past, apart from the obvious Kasabian tunes, the latest Fifa game can be a showcase for bands to get played to millions of people, mostly angry boys who spend their time swearing at polygons.

Just take a look at some of the bands who have been introduced to these sweary youths; Crystal Castles and Robert Smith 'Not in Love', Naked and Famous 'Punching in a dream', TV on the Radio, The Vaccines, Group Love, Glasvegas, Two Door Cinema Club and many more.

One last strange modern avenue to getting yourself heard I encountered recently was the Sunday Brunch Playlist.  Highlights from this edition include Stepdad 'Jungles' which is a heavy synth pop fronted by someone who despite looking like he owns a big van with the back lined with tarpaulin, has the most surprising voice.  It's very similar to TV on the Radio, but a bit more dainty... which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  This and Metric 'Speed the Collapse' are the stand out tunes whilst nods should also go to Presets 'Ghosts', Bloc Party 'We are not good people' and even the weird pairing of Gerad Way & Deadmau5 'Professional Griefers' is pretty good.

 

 

Sunday brunch is hangover TV at it's finest. Food, random human interest stories, music and comedy guests and all manner of people flogging some kind of wares. Now first off, the bands who do appear are hardly up and coming, the producers obviously play safe bets and book bands or 'artists' who some people of heard of.

 

A couple of week's ago it was the Courteeners (remember them?) plugging a third album and just generally being the working class heroes they are. But the interesting thing about Sunday Brunch is in and out of the ad breaks are snippets of new music. Some established acts but the majority are new bands middle England do not know exists Like 6 Music for the souls who have dragged their carcasses out of bed on a Sunday morning and want some motivation to cook breakfast.  

Usually its an eclectic mix of boring indie, freaky avant garde pop and established acts who are stuck in creative ruts...This is a couple of weeks ago but Frightened Rabbit 'The Woodpile' - haunting and soulful, Polica 'Dark Star' - fashionable, Ellie Goulding style pop represent the new.  The old are well represented with new tracks from Pearl Jam, Jonny Marr and the new David Bowie track which has caused such a fuss 'cos some sacrilegious folk has dared to say it's a bit shit...oh by the way, have you heard the new Bowie track? Yes it is a bit shit isn't it??

 

But the real reason I wrote this was because of Idles 'Thieves' - Great song, even better facial hair... oh, and because I wanted to say that Tim Lovejoy's smug face fucks me off.. Pull curtain, fade to black..

 

 

MEALS 4 MEN quattro

Here at Meals 4 Men nothing gets us all worked up like a fully functioning, behemoth of a cheese grater...

MMM K WEST'S WANK WAREHOUSE ~ METHERA

Brian Sucks Cox! Ouch, burn, whatever, he's just so nice! and I hate his GCSE science t.v show where I feel like asking Sir if this will be on the exam! Stop being so fucking nice Brian! Stop Smiling at EVERYTHING. Has he never had a bad day? Did his pet rabbit not die of tragic circumstances when he was a child? Has he never had wankst? Everything is just perfect all the time for Dr. Dick isn't it? Stop being so fucking nice! Spit in the streets, call your girlfriend a whore, stop shutting your eyes and turning off the lights during a fuck and actually learn to fuck, Brian! There is no Elvis Presley at all in Brian fucking Cox
Wet knicker rating: 0.1/5

IT'S HAPPENING..HE'S CHANGING...FOR THE BETTER!

Viernes 21 Diciembre

 

Noche

I´m loving how the animals differ in behaviour, especially at close quarters around the hacienda. The pollos are feistier, the pajaros often sleeker, there are lizards living in the sun-baked stone walls, and Che makes a hammock of the canvas bathroom ceiling, where the perros can´t reach. Seeing how they interact with the hacienda - their unnatural habitat - reminds me of how much they make the most of the present, and how much of an asset that is.

Los perros son perros though, and the perritos are typically cute - siblings of the same litter, but already their nascent natures are defining. The tan one is the more benign, and the black one more aggressive, always getting into trouble.

Bodi, el perro hombre, gritas en la noche…

THE BEST MEN ON CHANNEL 4 IN RECENT TIMES. Samuel Witch.

Brendan from Coach Trip, you are less than scum if Brendan doesn't like you.  He teeters on bitchy but that could be his accent.  He's always up for a laugh and i don't think you can find a better person to be stuck on a coach with for eight hours at a time.  A true tea time TV treat. 

Jeffrey from Four Rooms, a no nonsense cockerney dealah.  He's smelt all the bullshit you're trying to serve him before.  He's also come up with my personal fave catchphrase - "Are you a gambling man?" - and always after a kiss from the ladies.  He may not be everybody's cup of chai but I like him, not over the moon about his dedication to the scarf however, but hey, bet there's plenty he dislikes about me and i bet one of those scarfs equates to my monthly... nae annual salary.

Mark from The Hotel, there's some people in the world that are so dateless but just all round nice you can't help but like.  Marky boy here is a prime exhibit.  He's absolutely useless and a bit of a burke but the way he is with his customers is second to none.  He has no judge of character and employs fucktards, but it's only because he can only see the good in them. he's just a bloody nice bloke.  I really like his hair, and blazers on unfashionable men are beyond amazing.       

GOD'S THE NAME INVENTING FACES IS THE GAME. FERRERO ROCKER.

This joke from the hairy-forearmed-one came into mind when I found this site.

YOUR FACE!