Thursday, 23 December 2010


As my regular readers will know, I've had something of an "Annus horriblus" to quote Her Maj. Or as my Chav brothers would say, a "fuck off" year.. Having had all my work dry up, it was inevitable I'd have to sign on, and frankly I was dreading it. There's such a stigma attached to it, thanks to the gutter media(and for me that's all newspapers and tv)and even my closest sensible friends drone on about "dole queue scroungers" and "single Mothers".
Single Mothers......hmmm.....well I've coupled with and known a good number of them, and as far as I know none of them were sleeping on mattresses stuffed full of £20 notes. In fact, to the contrary, most of them live meagre, hand-to-mouth existences.
I consider myself a "genuine" case, if that's appropriate? I've been struggling financially since the Summer, and my earnings have averaged less than £100 a week, so......

I simply couldn't fault the staff at the job centre. They were friendly, polite and very helpful, and unbelievably I would label signing on as a stress free and relatively pleasant experience.
At the end of my time there the chap dealing with my claim said I should ask the front desk for the number to try and obtain a Crisis loan, as I ticked all the eligibility boxes for one.
And that's when a dark shadow fell over proceedings......

I said to my audiologist(whose name is Sister Ray, (whoa! a real life Velvet Underground character, spooky!)the telephone conversation with the Crisis loan people reminded me of the Monty Python sketch, the Spanish Inquisition. "Are you living in a residential home?" "Do you have any savings?" "Do you like Wig Wags or Quavers?" "Blur or Oasis? Discuss." Oh fuck off will ya, I'm skint, please give me a cheque! But no, the fucker droned on for over a half an hour, then put me on hold for 15 minutes, waaah!!! He asked me how I pay my gas and electric, I told him via direct debit, "oh well we can't give you anything unless you pay via a card meter", thanks a fucking bunch, next time I'll remember to swiftly change my utilities to the most expensive tariff to be eligible. "Have you any food in the house?", well thankfully Jeeves had just stocked the larder for Christmas, a brace of pheasants, ducks, a whole deer and a crate of my favourite champers, Chateau Marlmore, '73. A very fine you fuckwit, I'm skint, I've got nowt, ok? "Well, we can offer you £90 for a 14 day period......" how generous(anyone would think they are paying you from their own personal bank account, not from money the government has robbed off the likes of me and you these long years past!)"but you'll have to be really careful with this money, because you may not get any more for some time". Oh really. So now not only are you laying a guilt trip on me, for taking your personal cash from you, but you're suggesting I'm irresponsible with my finances. Careful with it? Of course I'll be careful with it. As soon as I get off the phone I'm straight to the nearest crack house, via the Co-op of course, to buy a crate of Jack Daniels, how's that for fucking careful?

Boys from Brazil? bollocks, they're living in England mate, training people for the Crisis fund call centre. Except these trainers ain't regular SS officers, no, these bastards got thrown out of the Gestapo, for being extra cruel!
God knows this country's in a state, mostly as a result of the criminals who rule our society robbing and stealing from all of us, without discrimination. And then they have the audacity to tell us to be thankful for a tiny sum of money that they give back to us, when they stole it from us in the first place!

Well, I got the £90. I had to go to the PO nearest the Jobcentre......along with all the other junkies, drunkies and assorted Chavs(including a very fat person dressed in a wrong way round baseball cap and neo shell suit, talking like a black person, they must be dreadfully disappointed/and or confused when they look in the mirror)boy was I pleased to get back on the bus that was a mere 20 minutes late. Sadly there were a few others, older people, that didn't make it, as they'd frozen to death in the -3 wind, but hey, at least they died amongst friends!

Thursday, 14 October 2010


Sometimes, it has to be said, life makes you want to spit, right?
Just when you think you're landing your plane on the airfield of good fortune a fucking wing falls off. Or put another way, the light at the end of the tunnel that you've been looking for for so long turns out to be the flame of life's arc welder, making you a spanky new cage, the poverty trap.

Dear Bridie gave me an amp in 1977, a 1964 Fender. Having consulted the other party involved it was agreed we'd attempt to sell the it on eBay.
There's quite a bit of history connected to the amp. It played all the venues in the Punk era, and prior to that another friend used it with a showband for many years. Oh if only this amp could talk, what tales it would tell......and it would remember them better than me!

Anyways the bidding started at £150, jumped to £200, then £250, incredible! Final price? a wonderful £565!! Hallelujah and saints be praised!
So me and the mad Princess decide we'll package it up and ship it off. But I figure one last strum through the old gal, so I got my Strat and plugged it in. The familiar sound of valves humming met my ears and I fingered a jangly G chord.........then suddenly nothing! Sure the valves were still humming but no guitar. To say I was a little unsettled would be a major understatement, I'd just sold this ancient treasure for £565, and now the bastard wasn't working! Waaaah!!!
Remarkably I only wacked myself for a few minutes and decided no matter how many times I switched the amp on and off/changed the leads and guitar it wasn't going to repair its self, so I duly called the repair Dude. A chap who sure knows his stuff but as a human being his demeanour makes SuBo look like Charles Manson. Christ he's slow. So three days and £130 later, I ship the amp at a cost of £40. Final ker-ching for me from £565? £175.......

I am so grateful for small mercies. And I know the Youniverse loves me. I will retain the gratitude attitude but...... fuck my luck!!!
I believe, or let's say I have faith in Karma as the Cosmic law. But realistically its bollox. Cos in this day and age he who fucks the hardest wins. The bigger the motherfucker you are, the better you'll get on. I don't want it to be this way, but hey that's showbiz. And don't tell me it'll be better in the next life, cos I don't want a next life! And I may not get one......

Look at the planet. We are polluting and overpopulating it. There's so many wars we've lost count. The Muslims hate every body, the Catholics hate the Muslims and daily people die for their Buddhist, Christian and Hindu beliefs. And across the globe, not just in the Third world, people die from lack of food or clean water. And we call ourselves civilised? Where is Karma? Well it's not fucking up the people that are destroying our planet, that's for certain. Cos their rampage goes unabated, and continues to get worse. C'mon Karma, sort out these evil bastards! Oh, you say it's not God's will, or the timing simply isn't right. Ok well fuck off then!!!

Best not mention the tax people telling me they're going to bankrupt me for £340, then shortly after my chainsaw brake dying, then the saw itself spluttering to a dead state. Again I'll say, fuck my luck!!!

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

"I arrest you for assaulting a Transsexual......with a bucket of water!"

A little over a week ago I was informally cautioned by the Police.
For threatening a Transsexual.
With a bucket of water.
Not a lot of people can say that!(I bloody hope not, anyway!).
Now before I get a welter of criticism from Gays, Lesbians and other genders I'd just like to say I love you all. Everybody. My faith tells me I must love every inhabitant of this beautiful You-niverse, and I try my best.
But it's really hard when that inhabitant is beating on the wall below your bedroom window.
With a sledgehammer.
My neighbour incessantly DIY's morning, noon and night, and has done so for some 32 months.
The sledgehammering was simply the last straw.

Before we mire further, I must say the young Cop who visited me was most affable, nay sympathetic to my problem. But I have to ask, whilst the pounds possibly kilos of drugs were being dealt on the streets in my town, whilst older people are being made to feel scared in their own homes by teenage thugs, and whilst our politicians are engaged in all manner of corruptions, may I suggest this nice young man's time could have been better spent elsewhere?
Not to mention the actual cost of this visit......

English society is not what it was, or should I say the rules and regulations that govern our aren't what they were. And neither are the Christian morals that were once guidelines for a decent society.
I do firmly believe if anyone should like to have their gender modified, then please be my guest, but be sure and pay the £20,000 bill for your op cos there ain't any money in the already over stretched NHS coffers to do so, and frankly there's a million and one other more pressing problems that need financing. When people are being told they can't have Cancer drugs because the NHS can't afford it I believe one has to question one's priorities.
And please, don't tell me this behavior is normal, because it isn't. And I should like to ask anyone reading this, please think long and hard before setting the ball rolling to have your gender modified. Because if you think having your body surgically changed will make your head change, you're sadly mistaken. My neighbour has always been a very unhappy soul, and guess what? having his penis cut off hasn't made him any happier, if anything it's made him worse. And the 3 cars(One a £20,000 sports car!)the Transit van, the Microlite aircraft, the caravan, the 2 trailers, the motorbike, the huge shed, the conservatory, the greenhouse, the 100's of plants bought and simply left to die, the 2 or 3 complete revamps of his flat and the fucking Chickens haven't made him any happier either!

This is ego out of control. Buddha would have a field day! This person ain't just on the Wheel of Samsara, he's nailed to it. And much compassion to him, tho' sadly he has none for others.

"Today I have escaped from all trouble, or rather I have cast out all trouble, for it was not outside of me, but within, and in my opinions"(Aurelius)

Saturday, 31 July 2010

Shot Mamas......

I was watching a little bit of "Risky Business" with Tom Cruise recently and was reminded of a couple of Friday evenings spent with the 'Clocks. We'd go out to a little plaza, and this particular club, the Dockside, had 3 bars.

There was a downstairs bar which was a fake casino, because in those days, gambling was illegal in South Florida, then an upstairs bar playing House music, the then current flavour, and an outdoor bar which was essentially a pontoon some 30 feet by 50 feet, floating in the middle of a lake full of Alligators, nice!

There was a neon style clock with a temperature gauge beside it near the actual bar, I remember one night at midnight the temperature was 100 degrees, and in the distance, in the clouds, an electrical storm was brewing....

On the pontoon bar, they had what Bob A called "Shot Mamas", young, gorgeous looking gals, usually dressed in mini skirts and skimpy tops. They had a type of gun belt around their hips, off of which hung shot glasses, looking like bullets, and where the gun holsters were hung bottles, usually Jack Daniels and Tequila. For a Dollar the "Shot Mama" would banter and give you a shot. A great opportunity to engage with a lovely looking woman, and get wasted too!

We got back to Bob J's apartment pretty drunk and attempted to smoke our own body weight in Dirt Weed. Bob's lady must've been away visiting her parents. I can't recall her name but she worked at a big hospital in Miami, in the maternity unit, helping to care for for the epidemic of crack babies which was happening at the time.

Anyway, the subject soon got round to sex, and the Bobs suggested we call the local dial-a-hooker service. There were a ton of ads in the back of the Sun Sentinel, the local paper, tho' most claimed to be lonely hearts they were actually prostitutes who offered a visiting service, at a price.

With 2 hookers ordered, we got back down to the serious business of getting fried. And as the boys consumed more alcohol and ganja, one by one they fell asleep, cept me. And at 3 am when the hookers knocked on the door they were all pretty much out for the count. What was a poor boy to do..........?

I bottled it, that's what I did! I was savagely smashed, incapable of walking let alone a shag! So whilst the girls tried to beat the door down I kept quiet, laid low, and prayed they'd bugger off. And I certainly didn't have the several hundred Dollars to pay them!

The next morning, having spent a few uncomfortable hours on the floor, asking God for sleep or death, our motley crew regained consciousness, not a pretty sight............

Thursday, 29 July 2010

Spot the Space Shuttle......

Early one morning whilst travelling to a job in North Miami with Alberto(my Columbian buddy, the guy who I caught a lift to work with most days) and Philberto(a Puerto Rican, a real nice guy who was ashamed of people knowing his nationality because of their violent reputation in the 70's) way away in the distance, we could see a Space Shuttle flying through the sky, having recently taken off. We pulled over to get a good look. It was a beautifully clear bright blue Florida sky, and we could see the distinct shape of the Shuttle, the huge jet flames coming from its exaust and the major smoke clouds it had left in it's wake. Although we were some 200 miles from Cape Canaveral, it was still a wonderful sight, and fuelled many UFO dreams for me.
The sky was so bright and blue and clear, just like the "American morning" I had as a child, in front of the mirror in the lounge at the old house, dressed in light blue jeans, playing air guitar and throwing shapes.
Some things never change......

That snake's gonna bite your ass!

When I lived in Coconut Creek, a trailer park in South Florida, in the summer of 1990, I went out to work early one morning, maybe around 6 a.m., and I was surprised to see the dangerous pets unit van outside the neighbours directly opposite ours.

This was akin to a dog warden service run by the local authorities, except it was for more exotic critters.

I thought nothing more about it until I returned home from work. Kieran Murphy, the owner of the trailer, my room mate, had said it had been reported on the local tv news, a woman had been bitten on the bum by an Anaconda, as she sat on the toilet that morning. When the dangerous pet unit finally caught it, it was a full grown snake, measuring over 6 feet long!

Of course we laughed heartily, and thinking about it now it seems like an urban myth, half dreamed.

But when I visited England in August that year much to my great amusement, it was reported in the Sunday Sport newspaper, one of the more mad stories they've printed which was actually true!

Saturday, 10 July 2010

Wildlife weirdness........(that snake probably won't bite your ass)

It's been an odd week for encounters with nature.
Last Saturday I was cycling to a friends house and passed a field with a few horses in it. The field is very close to the river, and as I passed it I saw what I thought was a small bonfire with a considerable plume of smoke coming from it. But there was much dust in the air and the horses were really spooked so I stopped and looked back. It was a mini tornado! Amazing and moving pretty quickly. When I told my friends they gave me a kind of "bullshit" look, but sure enough it was reported to have hit several gardens in the area, trashing gazebos and table brollies and the ilk!
Then on Monday I walked towards my garden and saw a small wet patch on my driveway about a centimetre in diameter. When I looked closely it was a Water boatman! Thrashing about in the drop of water like one leg wouldn't function, so I picked it up very carefully and put it in my pond, where upon it did several victory laps then promptly dived into the mud. And yep it's official, this Boatman has been renamed "Lucky"!
It puzzled me tremendously for a while, till I figured a bird (probably a Gull as there were a few about)had probably dropped it from it's beak. Well, you got a better idea?

At this point I began to wonder whether reading Crowley's Eight lectures on Yoga was such a good idea!

Then this morning whilst cycling and enjoying England's beautiful summer weather I passed the canal, and saw something odd swimming in the water. I got off my bike and looked closer and realised it was an Adder enjoying an early morning dip! I pulled my phone out and tried to get some footage, but I'm afraid it's not very clear. That's probably a once in a lifetime experience.
Thank you Shiva.

I've discovered a new species of human too, the cycle snob.
You know the type, flashy light weight bike, fingerless black gloves, tight shorts and shirt, and the ever present what looks like half a boiled egg on the head, the safety helmet!
Frankly I'd rather have a head injury than wear one of those. In fact it looks like you have had a head injury if you wear one!
These people look bloody humourless, hypnotised to a man(and woman). And they look at me like I'm some kind of low life, on my 1973 BSA, well bollox to them!
I cycle cos it's a great way to get around and observe our beautiful world.
Not to make a fashion statement........

Monday, 5 July 2010

Porcelain Young Thing 1............

I visited the UK in the summer of 1990.
It was hot in Blighty, but not as hot as Miami. When I left there it was almost 100 derees Fahrenheit, at 6 p.m.! As the Jumbo took off I had a slurp of JD from my Elvis hip flask, courtesy of Bridie, and looked down at the lightning in the clouds. Oh shit I thought, it's gonna be a bumpy ride and sure enough it was. Just as the Captain told us we could unfasten our seat belts and have a ciggy(yup, you could smoke on planes in those days)we hit turbulence, and as many people had the luggage lockers open, all manner of shite was flying about, and amongst women and kids(and no doubt the odd mans)screams the Captain tried to calm us. Yeah right, I'm totally fucking chilled, just cos the planes free falling a mile in the air, no probs. It literally felt like we were dropping from the sky, the ultimate tummy turner, I had nightmares about it for ages afterwards.

So when I got home I fought off the jetlag for a while, and what better way than a drink with my Irish brother, Mr Campbell. So after much beer and a little Morangie, it's nosebag time and a well earnt kip.

The next day we set forth for the Scottish Highlands. My third favourite place on the planet. Serene and breathtakingly beautiful, with the added bonus of my Scottish brother, Bridie.
He ran a beautiful old Inn by a huge dam. The rooms were cranky and small, but my window faced out towards Wevis and co, and after the first night there after imbibing much whiskey and black hash, courtesy of a fellow called "five finger Eddie"(can't figure the name really, he only had three fingers on one hand)I took to my room to discover a huge full moon hanging in the sky.

After a visit to Skye(a remarkable 50 degrees! Chilly chilly!)a misty magical Isle, it was time for me to head home, on a Greyhound type bus. I had a weekend of work with my band, and was looking forward to kicking some Rock'n'Roll ass.
And hey you know the journey back to London ain't gonna be normal.

The bus was pretty sparse and by the time a bright sunny dawn hit around 4 a.m. just outside of London, there was me, 2 girls with a guy that sounded Swedish and a firey red haired Celt chap. The Celt realising I was awake offered me a swig of his no brand liquor.
Being Americanised and socialable I had a hit. Or 2. And said Swedish chap and one of the gals imbibed too, tho' one of the gals remained in slumber.
Then suddenly the gal who was sleeping got up, looking kindof zombie like. I figured she was sleep walking, and what was the first thing she did? collapse into the lap of the Celt, with her head close to his crotch. Not QUITE the same as the lap of the Gods. I don't think anyway.
So the guy goes over and wakes the gal. The Celt looks delighted but anxious, the gal gets taken back to her seat and promptly resumes the "cousin of death". But not for long, cos soon she's up and about, and who does she land on this time but me.
Oh dear. Oh fuck. A blonde Scandi nymphet has just crashed in my lap, with her head mere millimetres from my cock. Well, don't blame me........

Sunday, 4 July 2010

Well it was 20 years ago today......

Think I'm going to fire up the pyros later. Well heck it is the 4th of July, American Independence day. And it's an unbelievable 20 years since I celebrated July the 4th in Florida.
20 years! It's a bloody lifetime, where did that time go?
Well I guess I spent a lot of that time having a good time.
Dated around 20 women. And tried to love all of them as hard and tenderly as I could.
Played literally hundreds of gigs both solo and with some excellent bands and musos, and enjoyed many rapturous audiences.
Had my own radio show, God there's nothing like hearing your own voice coming out of the wireless. The most glorious ego wank, especially if you're amongst friends who love your kind of Rock'n'Roll.
I shed a number of vices, I'm very pleased to say. Haven't put anything up my nose for probably 15 years, and haven't smoked ciggies for over 2 and a half years, something most of my friends/lovers can't believe. My appetite for Nicotine was almost insatiable, if I wasn't smoking a cig I was rolling one. Would've smoked in my sleep but couldn't stay awake.
I've lost a lot of beautiful people too. I should say they're dead, but if life is an illusion then surely so is death? My Mother, my Father, both of my wonderful brothers, and several really close friends.
I have a pretty successful website. Some 10,000 plus people have visited it, and I've made some great friends as a result, not to mention tracing my family tree back to the 1600's, with help from a beautiful woman from New York.

If I believed in being the emotional type well hell I'd say I had a lot to feel satisfied and happy about.
But fuck's some adventures you might enjoy........