If this is the World Science Festival then I want to be a scientist.
Maybe I'm not made of the right stuff.. x
If people were more heavily armed in the UK, the stats in that article might read differently, with a high percentage of Angels-themed deaths perhaps?
I don't really 'do' karaoke nights; I know some friends of mine were at one last night so I deleted all their phone numbers, but if I hadn't done that I might ask them what the zeitgeist is throwing up these days. Poker Face? Sex On Fire?
Safety in numbers: Large groups often make the second verse before being gunned down like dogs.
It seems strange that people's lives end over things like this, but in a way it's almost like a revenge killing: you murder this song; I murder you.
This Monday Ian and I went along with some mutual friends to The Lexington to take part in the weekly Rough Trade pub quiz. It was a lot of fun and we finished somewhere in the top 10 so we were chuffed.
The question that scuppered our chances of doing better was a mammoth-6-pointer: name all Guns N' Roses' LPs. Between six people we could collectively name two of their records. I think we were all secretly proud of this fact.
Is this from an album? I honestly don't know.
Quiz team names are a difficult art to master, we opted for the 'bad pun' option and attempted to get the right balance for a truly tenuous pop culture reference. Having decided that Quizzy Rascal and Quiz This It were too obvious, we opted for the clumsy beauty of 'Limp Quiz Kit'.
The best name of the night was undoubtedly 'Hate Music Love Racism'. We're going to have to be less PC next week to keep up with that kind of effort.
Oakford Social Club, 11th October 2009
A Feeling of Health
The Dead Sea Scrolls
Unknown Forces
The Shortest Distance
They Already Know
We were daydreaming in our practice room and found ourselves onstage at a gig, surrounded by close friends and loves. Our response was Pavlovian.
It was a strange evening. Simon was playing in a makeshift cage, David kept rambling about trains and Dagenham, whilst Ian prophesised an impending piano attack.
When the clock struck eight, the piano crashed through the walls and David fled. Then we woke up, turned out it was all real. And you were there. And you were there!
Big love to the man in the monkeysuit for helping us get back home.
Holy Yell
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