About Me

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Born at the age of 4 in a woodcutter’s cottage in the Black Forest sometime next year, I’m a student at Leeds Met University studying Project Management. Despite the absolute lack of creative freedom, it’s alright and I’m quite good at it I suppose. Leeds Met is often referred to as ‘the other one’ in relation to its more distinguished cousin but I like to think it’s not important. We are all students of Leeds. I’m not an absolute ‘rah’ and I’m not a complete ‘spaz-tard’ – I’m very happily sandwiched in-between, all warm and snug. Anywho. I digress. I enjoy many things in life, from the humble Jaffa Cake and social intoxication to music and my attempts of being a ‘lad’. The idea of blogging has long been wandering aimlessly in my less-than-average sized head. During my previous life jumping when Yorkshire Water clapped, I put together a monthly newsletter which people seemed to like. So. Possessing a half decent grasp of the written word and the occasional tendency to be a bit of a douche, I thought ‘blogging’ could be a hoot. Enjoy. P.S. I must credit the late John Peel who I based my whole ‘born at the age of four...’ intro. Kudos, John. Kudos.

Wednesday 18 August 2010

G-ma in da House

Grandma said these things happen in threes. After smashing her coffee plunger (for one) this morning and with the 'insurance people' still to come, I couldn't help but sense the onset of immense miserableness wasn't far away. Sure enough, because the robbing scamps didn't actually beat me to death and spread me around in various Hyde Park bins, I won't be getting any moolah from Churchill for the £600 worth of my worldly possessions that I lost. I'm still awaiting number three, although learning that I'll probably never see my beloved grey hoody again is making my larynx ache as if I'm about to cry. New rule: Simon does not lend out favoured garments. Ever.

The worst part of all this added expense is that I'll be forced to continue fixing my clothes with duct tape. It's becoming all a bit ridiculous - quite like being very aroused by both Rihanna and a girl at Glastonbury who were dressed like/looked JUST like Slash.


Woof?

Aside from my misery business, my good friend Si (professional lad, has an iMac) and I finally sorted a flat to live happily ever after in. Living above friends Tom, James and Adam on the top floor of a miniature Hogwarts in Headingley's outskirts, we are green lit to some mega-fun times ahead. The landlord has already started preparing the flat to our pretty mediocre standards and will be moved in by the time I start my placement; the thought of which constantly lingers and chills me to my very core. Euuurgh.

It would also appear that I have fended off the fiends of Rent Inc. who launched some pretty outrageous charges at me after moving out of my old flat on Hyde Park Road. Being British, I sent a strongly-worded email to tell them just what I thought and signed off my email with, "given the circumstances, I trust that the invoice will be rescinded and no future correspondence will be required". Nearly a month on, it's gone a bit quiet over there. Still, I do wish I'd have walked into the office and unleashed some mayhem. Maybe throw a chair. Maybe model myself on this chap and really mess with their heads:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTFOncppkJg

Myself and a few friends spent a few days visiting my beloved friend Reid (fan of weather, liquid drum and bass and moving as far away from home as possible) in Exeter at the weekend, which was just lovely. It was cracking to spend some time with him and what's left of his beautiful locks. In a nutshell:
  • We went bowling which was fun and then irritating.

  • I threw the ball into my knee because I'd been drinking.

  • I saw a swan fly into a bridge
  • Reid's girlfriend Helen has an awesome new bob

  • Everyone said the word 'titties' at least 7 times.

  • We drank Desperado's in a bar where you couldn't stand up.
  • I unleashed a fierce comeback, suggesting my friend Matt (married, entertaining, arsehole) had fat fingers.
With having Grandma (G-ma) insist I watch Who Do You Think You Are? with her whilst and Mum insisting I download Plan B for her to linedance to, home time has been less than exciting. A trip to Kendal to see everyone's favourite redhead, Becca this weekend will provide me with some cultural interest and escape the absolute mundanity of this weird vortex in Cleck-Hudders-Fax...wherever the hell this place is. Bring on the cheese and cracker-thon, red wine, locals, scenery and children's playground for a midnight swing (although I fear it won't be quite the same without Holly):

Holly Andrews: Spethal

I'm looking forward to going to Wax:On at the end of September. With Fake Blood, Nero, Krafty Kuts and Boy 8 Bit to name but four acts to excite the pants off me, it promises to be a night we'll all be hopefully talking about in the year(s) to come. With Muse (Old Trafford), Cancer Bats (Cockpit) and Gallows (Joseph's Well) to follow, things are shaping up real swell from now 'till the next religious holiday.

I've been seeing a lot written about Caribou recently, which I'm pleased about. I saw him and his amazing live act at Pukkelpop in 2008 and is fast becoming another increasingly badly-kept secret - which is no bad thing I suppose. I like anything centering around live drumming and distinctly remember Caribou (Dan Snaith) dropping his guitar and picking up his sticks in a building drum rhythm that was totally compelling, trippy and atmospheric. 'Melody Day' is my bestest song:

Caribou - Melody Day (www.youtube.com/watch?v=QklfmJ4vfLs)

Best buddy Michael and I are hoping to catch Leeds' Dinosaur Pile-Up in October if funds/babysitters permit. Despite me being a bit slow on the uptake, they've impressed me very much and can't wait for their album release. Do you like apples? You do? Well, how do you like these apples?:

Dinosaur Pile-Up - Birds and Planes (www.youtube.com/watch?v=qg4u2RjuXio)

This track gives me a cracking screw-face. Lovely stuff.

Schimon x

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