Saturday, September 23, 2006
This is the Alternative, a shrine to Steve Jones and Mark Shovel and Jonesy's Jukebox. This is the transcriptorium where my very good friend Floratina, gets down the best bits of Jonesy for you to enjoy and savour again. Sometimes I do too. That's it, that's what we do.
Then again, sometimes I come up with a rant or an observation which has nothing to do with Steve, the box. or Indie 103.1. That's where the eclecticism comes in.
I see from Steve's page on myspace that he's got spots on his dick, dun't he knew that he can get some sorta pills for that? Broad Norfolk - a flat county within easy reach of the Himalayas.
That's enough of that. Or is it?
Awfully busy at the moment chums but thought I'd share blog-style some memories.
I'm back and got in last night after a month's sojourn.
Left Norwich at 11.40 Friday Morning.
Back in Wigtown 04.30 Saturday morning
Yes there's more from the fevered keyboard of the CwA. Never you fear. I have not abandoned everything. It is good to be back but I didn't much feel like blogging in that stupid cyber cafe, whilst I was down South. I got in and got out.
Why did I go - do you care?
Oh well I'll tell you anyway.
A friend of mine bought 10 acres of forest in Kent so we went down to this party. That was a good time, camp fire style with guitars and whisky and BEER much beer. We lost our tent, well I did being rather drunk, my better half navigated it back into existence. Kent is nice, think "Darling Buds of May" and a stand-off between the police and New Age Travellers in a field and you will get the picture. Maybe...
Also parents manged a 50th Golden Wedding Anniversary and so I felt that I ought to get up there to Norfolk and be with them. Congrats to them!
Their 50th was all very jolly and many burgers and traditional English barbecue type grub was consumed.
Then my Aunt died...
When we were young yes I guess we were all close, we all lived in the same little village called Hopton-on-Sea with my grandmother. It's on the Norfolk coast. We were between Royal Air Force postings etc. Everybody was always visiting everyone in them days. So many Aunts, cousins, uncles. My mum only has only the one sibling left now. All the other 4 including her twin have gone. She was too ill to go, so I went with Paul - my nephew - my brother and my Dad. Got kitted out in a thrift shop,black tie and jacket. Service was mercifully brief, no fuss despatch. I'm glad I went. Now the fact is that the only time you or one sees your extended family is at dreary ocassions such as funerals. That's that, no fighting. No, "he was always a miserable bastard and he owed me for the piano, the little bleeder." type outbursts. We just aint that kind of family. Fishermen, brick makers, trawlers, labourers, we are that kind of a family.
I notice that my pa(w) has taken to wearing two wrist watches. Is this a sign of the onset of loopiness in his old age, or an awareness of mortality?
I had to laugh at Chispa's "I'm a Sex Pistol man" t-shirt, I want one! Check myspace. It is excellent as Steve would say.
I am going to have a good read of the blog when this all over but for now we have our second book town festival of the year, this is the one with the celebs. Not xactly A liners but all literary types none the less. After that Wigtown will go back to being sleepy toon again. Oh ho, I've just been handed a glass of whisky. I feel spaced after all that coach journey. It didn't help when I got off the coach and the taxi wasn't there to whisk me back to the byre either. On arrival the local youth were busy throwing glass bottles in the street for their fun. I felt like shit on a stick. When the taxi did show up, I was sitting in the back when I suddenly felt like my arsehole was blazing. First thought, "my phone (cell phone) has caught fire, next I've been administering chilli enemas to myself again. Nah it was back seat heating. I asked the driver what was the story and he reckoned that someone had been playing with the controls, why couldn't these hooligans leave things alone. etc. Then he said that he had a woman in the back last week and she had leant forward and informed him politely that her "fanny was on fire." Fanny in this case is not your heinie, or ass but er well what else lies between a woman's legs. Yes. Say no more.
I had some of those pot noodles when I was down South and some pie and peas too, oh yes. I was toying with the idea of taking a few snaps of this delicious nourishing alternative to nothing - with my digi cam - but felt that they might think I was a bit weird to get my camera out on the Norwich market pea stall and be snapping away. I restrained myself.
Seemed to produce an effect wearing bright red seditionary copy BOY bondage trousers and a GSTQ t-shirt - pin queen - all these drunks kept coming up to me and saying "hello," offering me slugs of Superlager, fights etc. All the crack whores smiling away, as they staggered back to their dens. Old England IS dying. These bone head skinhead Inger-land fan types were having a good glare too. Classic stand-off arms crossed. LOL. Fact is this was the clothing I wore in Kent for the stand-off with the police but as Ingerland was having a mini heatwave that stuff was the coolest thing, what not to wear. It was either that or black trousers.
I can't help feeling that it is rather sad to be wandering about in your hometown in such attire some 30 years or after the event, with a nice receeding hairline and a big bald patch on your barnet but I aren't one of these types who as soon as they notice that they are losing their locks, reaches for the Remington microscreen...yet. Please advise. It ain't cos of the Brylcreem either.
Clothes for heroes?
"God Save the Queen?"
"What do you want to save her for?"
That was the best quote.
Tina will be back soon, I'm going off to sleep.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Steve: You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 1031. It is three and a half minutes after twelve bells. Was there a fire somewhere? I went hiking last night, like around four, five…and there was just smoke…
Mr. Shovel: Yeah, there’s a fire in I think, Los Padres.
Steve: Where’s that?
Mr. Shovel: Don’t know. But that’s where it is.
Steve: It looked like it was like, West…out near Calabasas or Malibu or somewhere. It looked like it was coming from there.
Mr. Shovel: It’s that time of year.
Steve: It is, it’s very dry out. Very dry. It’s the first day of Fall, Saturday you know, Mr. Shovel.
Mr. Shovel: Yeah. The Vernal Equinox.
Steve: Does that mean it’s all like, downhill from that day ‘til the next six months?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah. It’s gonna only be in the seventies. All winter.
Steve: Oh, I can’t think of anything to talk about. What’s going on? Is there any…? You know when you walk, when you exercise, your brain thinks more and I think of things. I need to take a pen and paper cos I have ideas but by the time I get home and my heart rate’s gone down, I forgot the ideas I had.
Mr. Shovel: Take a little Mp3 recorder.
Steve: Yeah. That’s what I want to do when I go hiking. But yeah. Thanks for the thought. Maybe I just need to get my phone, learn how to use the tape recorder on that.
Mr. Shovel: Hey, that’s a good idea.
Steve: Yes. Oh, it’s Megan’s birthday today. Megan who works for Indie. Happy Birthday, darling. Congratulations.
Mr. Shovel: Fires are near Ojai, by the way. So there you go.
Steve: Oh, so I was right. It was up there, up that way. Any fatalities? Does it say any fatalities?
Mr. Shovel: Wildlife.
Steve: Ohhh. I saw three deer last night. I think they eat all the grass, all the ivy outside my house. I asked me gardener, I said, “Where’s all the ivy gone?” He says, “That’s deer eating it”. Funny, innit? They’re making a right mess of it, but I kind of don’t mind it cos it’s going…I like the fact that deer come to my house and eat my ivy. And they’re not eating anyone else’s cos I think they have different kinds of ivy and they’re probably not, don’t find tasty. I like deer. Quiet animals. They don’t bark. I like any animal that don’t bark. Should I do a song?
Mr. Shovel: I’d go with the deer.
Steve: Deer’s a safe bet, actually.
Mr. Shovel: But they don’t get the poison ivy that you get.
Steve: I didn’t say it was poison ivy.
Mr. Shovel: Well, you get poison ivy from your yard.
Steve: Out the back. Maybe they do. Maybe they do. Maybe they don’t get it though. Maybe they’re immune to it, I don’t know. Cos they’ve been living in scrubbery rubbery for hundreds of thousands of years. So maybe they’re just all immune to it, I don’t know.
Deers oh oh deers
They’re quiet nice animals
They don’t make no noise
Not like the dogs in my neighborhood
The ones that don’t get no exercise all day
Because their owners don’t care anyway
The poor old dogs are losing their mind
That’s why they bark all day
Deers I like their droppings
They have little droppings
Why can’t everybody have droppings like deers
They’re the best droppings in the world
Deers have the best droppings ever
They drop the droppings very nice deers
They can eat all of my ivy
I don’t care cos I like the deers
Deers are good and they run in packs
There’s always families of deers
Oh oh deers
They have four legs
And have big ears
Them goddamn deers
I love them so
They have nice furry coats
And big eyes
The ears hear every little noise
I like deers
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Steve: There’s a funny one with the classic Pistol photograph. They put John Terry and Lampard and Cudicini and Joe Cole on the heads of the Pistols. It looks pretty good. I’d like get that, put it on MySpace. I removed a bunch of people from Myspace actually the other day. I didn’t realize that the spies that I have, looking to find out if I’m not in their Top 8, they can’t check the ones that are blocked. You know the ones, they block their…you know, you can’t look at their profile?
Mr. Shovel: Unless you’re their friend.
Steve: Yeah. Which, obviously I didn’t put two-and-two together but the people who are checking can’t check them so I said, “Send me the heads of the ones who have the blocked things” and sure enough, there was about fifteen that were hiding in there without me in their top eight. I had to remove ‘em.
Mr. Shovel: That means they used to be your friend and they opted to get rid of you.
Steve: Yeah. So they’re gone.
Mr. Shovel: Yeah. Well, you’re gone from them.
Steve: No, I wasn’t gone from them. I wasn’t in their Top 8. Don’t you understand?
Mr. Shovel: Right, because you weren’t even in their top anything.
Steve: I was at one point. Don’t you understand?
Mr. Shovel: (laughing) Yes.
Steve: Gonna play some pimp today. A lot of pimp. I’m in the mood for some stuff. I’m not gonna do the voice and I don’t want to hear the same old soundbites for it. I’m just gonna play the music. Anything else happening today, Shovel?
Mr. Shovel: Piece of garbage floating around the space shuttle, that’s about it.
Steve: Oh, there is?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah.
Steve: Whatcha mean? There’s a space shuttle up there?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah, they got some garbage floating around. Made a big deal out of it.
Steve: What, and it hit the space shuttle?
Mr. Shovel: No, it’s just out there. They were worried about it.
Steve: Maybe it’s a dead person, got shot into space.
Mr. Shovel: That’s what I was thinking. I didn’t want to say it.
There’s a dead person
Floating around in space
I wonder who that person is
Maybe he was on myspace
Now he is removed because
He tried to sneak around
Without being in my Top 8
I put him in the cannon
Fired him up into the atmosphere
I left his clothes on
But I think they disintegrated up there
So he is knackered
You poor old sod
You should have left me in
Your Top 8
You’re out in space
Just a piece of garbage
Hitting space shuttles
And all them other things that do technology
What are them things called? Satellites.
Don’t defy the Pontiff
Or you will be removed
If you want to be my friend
Don’t just come and have a butcher’s
And then leave
What’s it like up in space
I’d like to know
Is it dark looking
Back at the earth
Is it a happy place
It must look quite happy from up there
But soon as you get closer to it
And a lot of wrong stuff goin on
It looks kind of blue
With some puffy clouds
And some green
Don’t let the blue move over to the green
Or we will drown
Please watch your emissions
And your fossils
The gas prices have come down
To make everybody feel happy
Oh oh oh
But you know it’s only temporary
Then they’ll have another jab
In a month or two
Oh oh oh oh
I wish I was a piece of garbage
Floating around in outer space
At least you don’t have to eat up there
Or sleep up there
You can’t do much but masterbate
In outer space
I heard it’s a better orgasm
When you’re in the outer atmosphere
Oh oh oh
I gotta remember to bring my Astroglide
The next time I ride in the cannon
Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Steve: You’re listening to Jonesy’s Jukebox on Indie 1031. It’s five after…no it’s not. It’s coming up to four after twelve bells. It’s nice and warm, a little bit smoggy. I felt me eyes burning a little bit, driving here this morning, because I do have sensitive eyes and ears. Just highly evolved hearing and sight and you know, sound. Anything. I pick up things a lot more than most people, before they do because I’m highly sensitive, in-tuned human specimen. Way more than regular people…so I can feel me eyes burning, a little bit. But it’s okay. Got John Cameron Mitchell coming in later on. If you don’t know who he was, he’s the…(correcting himself) who he is, he’s the bloke who was, I think he wrote, and starred in “Hedwig” in the movie and he started off with the play in New York and he’s got a new movie out. So he’s going to be coming on. That’s going to be fun. I’m looking forward to that. What else is happening Shovel? Anything? How’s the spinach going?
Mr. Shovel: Ah, I don’t know. I don’t pay attention to the spinach story.
Steve: The ibola, iola, ibola…
Mr. Shovel: e boli…
Steve: What is that, is that that thing that people were dying of in Africa and they bleed to death?
Mr. Shovel: Nah, that’s e coli.
Mr. Shovel: No, wait. That’s e boli. E coli is the one that comes out of cow poop.
Steve: So it’s similar to…you die like that? You kind of internally…
Mr. Shovel: No, it’s not the same at all.
Steve: Why is it’s name so familiar? Coli, oli…eli…mo-my. I’ve got a case of spinach poop. What can you do for me doctor? Can you remove this for me? My spinach has poo poo on it and I’m getting very sick.
Mr. Shovel: We have Scissors Sister tickets to give away.
Steve: Oh, rully?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah.
Steve: (funny voice ) How many pairs we have there, Mr. Shovel?
Mr. Shovel: Two pairs.
Steve: (gibberish) Spinach.
Mr. Shovel: Yeah, you don’t want to put cow manure on that.
Steve: What? I always sprinkle it on when I have my spinach. I find it most delicious. I don’t know what’s the problem. Ee oli, bo holi. (sings) Macca hula hai…what should I sing this song about?
Mr. Shovel: Well, being that you’re so sensitive and everything, I’m surprised that you can get away with that.
Steve: Well, I can also reverse it to things that, when I want my immune system to not deal with things, I can turn it the other way. Fight off anything, as well. When most fall to the ground, I’ll be walking…over ‘em.
Mr. Shovel: Cos you’re highly evolved.
Steve: Yes. My brain is the size of a Neanderthal.
Mr. Shovel: You’ve become immune to cow poo.
Steve: That, too…it’s only you know…cow dung, I think, is the…what we call in the trade as the real name. There’s poo, cow dung.
Mr. Shovel: Cow pies...
Steve: Cow pies and macaroni cheese and cow pies. You can’t beat a good cowpie. From Cal Worthington and his dog Spot. (sings) If you wanna buy a car, go cowpie. If you wanna buy cowpie go see Cal. If you wanna go piecal, cal put in your hole and…
Mr. Shovel: Whoa!
Steve: HEY LAYdee.
What should I sing a song about? Got any ideas?
Mr. Shovel: I’m not touching that…
Steve: Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. Not without gloves on.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Mr. Shovel: I don’t know. I don’t eat it anyway. I don’t care.
Steve: What’s Popeye gonna do?
Mr. Shovel: Popeye’s dead.
Steve: Yeah, cos of eating that bleedin’ spinach. Probably killed him. You can’t eat any spinach? Is all of it…bad or something? What’s going on.
Mr. Shovel: They don’t know so they’re just saying, “Stay away from it”.
Steve: It’s another conspiracy?
Mr. Shovel: It’s a fear thing, Steve. It’s a fear thing.
Steve: A conspiracy, right? Another Y2K. “Don’t eat spinach. You’ll die”. Are the spraying it with something? Nah, I don’t know. I like spinach, though.
Mr. Shovel: We have Scissor Sister tickets to give away.
Steve: Really. How many we got there?
Mr. Shovel: Two pairs.
Steve: Two pairs, okay. Um, what should I sing a song about?
Mr. Shovel: Spinach.
Steve: Spinach? Let me see if me harmonica works. (tests it out) Okay. You want a song about spinach? You got it.
You must stay away
Come back another day
When it’s safe to say
you can eat the spinach
You must eat your greens
There’s plenty more than spinach
Yes there is much more than spinach
Yes there is
is here to stay
There’s nothing wrong with broccoli
Not today anyway
The pesticides will reside
In the little bits of broccoli
That will make you fear up from eating it
There is lettuce
Sometimes (when) you eat it
there’s little maggots inside it
But I tell the waiter
Mister, I didn’t order maggots
I ordered a nice big salad
A lovely mixed salad with baby greens
and artichokes and tomatoes
and celery and all kinds of
With some sesame
Yes I love my greens
I would eat the spinach
if there was any around
I want to die
with my spinach
I heard the Navy Seals have a stash
Somewhere up in Fort Knox-e-o
Down in Albuquerque
there’s a truckload of Spinach
I wish I could get my hands on
I would spray it to L.A.
Get a plane and sprinkle it
hey free spinach
But I know no one would eat it
cos they’re feared-up to the eyeballs
Ya poor old spinach
It’s good enough for Popeye
If it’s good enough for Popeye
it’s good enough for me hee hee hee
Poor old spinach
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
http://www.mtcnet.net/~bierly/popcartoons.htm for more Popeye
Monday, September 18, 2006
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Steve: We were talking in the commercials about other ways to go, where to go when you’re dead. Mr. Shovel mentioned, I actually heard about this as well, you can be shot into space. I think it’s not cheap, but you actually…do you go into space?
Mr. Shovel: I don’t know. But unless you keep going, I wouldn’t want to do it because eventually going to fall back down if you’re just circling around. But if you keep going, that’s pretty cool.
Steve: But what…why would you fall back down if you’re in the outer atmosphere?
Mr. Shovel: Cos that happens to everything. Every satellite eventually is going to fall back down.
Mr. Shovel: Mm hmm.
Steve: How long?
Mr. Shovel: I don’t know. Twenty years? I don’t know.
Steve: But if you could…put you like, in a black hole, shoot you into the black hole, then maybe you just circle and circle until they get so advanced…
Mr. Shovel: You’d come out like a piece of spaghetti, though.
Steve: No. Can you imagine if you circle for like, two hundred years, this place, Earth…we’ve all killed each other. Then you find some other planet, you kind of stumble across it and they find you and bring you back to life. Can you imagine?
Mr. Shovel: I think I’d be cool.
Steve: (goofy accent) Can you imagine the possibilities?
Mr. Shovel: It sounds like you’ve been smoking pot.
Steve: No. I’m not. Nope.
Mr. Shovel: You could keep going for a million years and run into another planet and they would find you and they would think we all look like you.
Steve: Yeah. They’d think, “Wow. What an amazing specie. The finest specie we’ve ever seen, anywhere, in the whole Universe. He must have been a superior one. The other ones couldn’t have been this highly evolved.” That’s what they would say – with their minds. They wouldn’t actually say speak to each other, they’d be saying it through their minds, though. You know what I mean? Telepathic. (pause) So you were saying, why don’t everyone, why don’t they shoot everyone into space?
Mr. Shovel: Yeah, why not? Let’s do it.
Steve: Yeah? I think it’s expensive. But some people spend like, millions on a bleedin’…like elaborate, what do you call ‘em? In the ground?
Mr. Shovel: Casket.
Steve: Yes and they build like a whole…
Mr. Shovel: I figure if you put like a whole bunch of you know, pods of people, thousand, ten thousand, boom…one shot, that would be worth their while.
Mr. Shovel: Then we could colonize another planet with our DNA.
Steve: Hey you know what, that ain’t a bad idea. You’re in the wrong business, Shovel.
Mr. Shovel: I know. That I know, too.
Steve: You should be working for some government somewhere. Some agency.
Mr. Shovel: How do you know I’m not?
Steve: Oh, I know. I know you. Let’s play…two for Tuesday. From Motorhead. And this song is called, “Kingdom Of The Worm”…