Bands You Might Not Be Listening To But Should Probably Be Listening To…

Firstly, I don’t have a superior music taste to anyone, so why should you listen to my ca-razy opinions?
Secondly, you should probably listen to my ca-razy opinions.

Often, when enjoying some music through my ears and brain, I think, “Why are these guys not huge?”, so that’s all this is. Maybe it’d be best to refer to the following as The Injustice League. Although that gives the wrong impression when I really mean that it’s an injustice that these bands are not massively well known (not in the US of Britain anyway). 
Yes, I’m writing this from the perspective of a girl in Scotland who only has a vague grasp of what’s popular and not music-wise… The following is probably not going to be a huge revelation to those who know a lot about music, but hopefully it’ll provide a sense of “Oh, I’ve heard of them… what are they actually like?”
Am I drunk? I don’t think so… Oh, who cares? Here are some bands I adore and think you might adore too if you don’t already. At the end there’ll be a Spotify playlist, so you can judge for yourself if you can be bothered… [If you're reading this blog for the first time, I'm so so sorry for the disappointment. You can leave if you like, the things I type end up like this a lot.]

Art Brut

Hmm… How do you describe a band like Mari– uh, Art Brut? They’re often compared to the Fall but, as much as I do love the Fall, I think this is slightly unfair. Art Brut are not really like anyone else around at the moment.
They are, however, very easy to get into. I struggle to remember how I did so, but I think I heard ‘Formed A Band’ on a compilation cd in about 2004/2005 and immediately fell in love. They tell stories and I like bands that tell stories. Their lyrics are very clever and usually very very funny. To date, they’ve released three studio albums, ‘Bang Bang Rock and Roll’, ‘It’s A Bit Complicated’ and ‘Art Brut Vs. Satan’. I think these need to be listened to in order. ‘Bang Bang Rock and Roll’ sees the band getting started and includes songs about relationships, LA and erectile-dysfunction. Overall, it sounded like a band having fun and enjoying making music while they could. I get the impression that with ‘It’s A Bit Complicated’ and ‘Art Brut vs. Satan’, the band have realised that they’re going to be round for longer than they may have first thought and have made albums in which they appear more confident and even a bit angry. 
Art Brut are not merely great on record, but they are also one of the best live bands I’ve seen. They work well in any sized venue. The first time I saw them was at a relatively large Music Hall supporting Maximo Park. I believe they’d never been to Aberdeen before this, so when I heard they would be there I bought a ticket for them rather than for the headliners. They successfully managed to hold every person in that room’s attention and looked like they were having the time of their lives. You could be forgiven for thinking that they looked so happy as they were playing brilliantly in front of a large room of people, but the next year, I saw them play in one of Aberdeen’s smaller venues, the Tunnels and they looked even more pleased and continued to give the show their all. My friend Keri nearly got kicked in the face by frontman, Eddie Argos, who enjoys jumping about in his socks, but she exclaimed afterwards, “It was worth it.”
‘Slap Dash For No Cash’ from the latest album sums up why everyone should love Art Brut. In it, el Argos explains his adoration of bands who make very raw records, often with tiny imperfections. This is what his band do. This is one of many reasons they are so fantastic.
Why isn’t everyone trying to sound like U2?
It’s not a very cool thing to do
Why would you want to sound like U2?
Just press record and play it straight throughJeffrey Lewis

“Hey, I recognise that guy, I think he’s the support act…” I whispered to Selly, “I’ve seen him on the Culture Show…”
We were in Sheffield at Jarvis Cocker’s homecoming gig for Rough Trade’s 30th Anniversary. More specifically, we were at the merchandise stand inside the Academy deliberating over which Jarvis tshirt I should buy (I settled for one with a rude word on it. Take that, Thatcher!) when a young, familiar looking man turns up, stands next to us and starts talking to the guy selling the merchandise about the comics that are onsale. This is where I give Selly my Culture Show knowledge. He realises that he’s due onstage in about two minutes so makes a swift exit. When he’s gone, I glance at the comics and realise that he is Jeffrey Lewis. We then enjoy the performance he gives before the Cocker takes to the stage.
I vowed that I would buy any albums of his that were onsale after the gig, but an impromptu dj set by Jarvis distracted me and I forgot. Days later, I got my hands on some of his albums and continued falling in love.
Jeffrey Lewis is one of those New York “anti-folk” artists you hear about. I’m a big fan of Adam Green, but there’s something about Lewis that is that little bit better. I was very nervous of writing that last sentence, but I’ve done it now and I stand by it. As with Art Brut, the lyrics are often very clever and sometimes funny, but his delivery of each word is beautiful too.
Not only is he extremely talented musically, but he also writes and draws his own comics. Skills. Possibly to pay the bills. You can get hold of the majority of comics of his that have been printed online if you do some quick searching. I thoroughly advise it… after you’ve listened to his music.

 

Larrikin Love

Before I get too ahead of myself, I should warn you that Larrikin Love are no more. A very short-lived act, but an important one nonetheless. My first encounter with them came, again, when I saw them supporting a band at the Music Hall. Once more, they were clearly more interesting than the headline act as I can’t even remember who that band was… OH! It was the Zutons. Yeah, they’re far better than the Zutons.
They may have only been around for two years, but their album ‘The Freedom Spark’ is still one of my favourites of recent years.
I don’t quite know what else to say about them, which is a shame, but I think their music speaks for them. At times very strange, at times very dark, at times very upbeat. A good album for any mood.

1990s

(Sadly, they don’t normally look like that…)
May be being a bit biased here as these guys are friends of mine, but they’re still very underrated and I don’t really understand why. I’m pretty sure they’re doing everything right in that their songs are catchy, they play a lot of gigs and don’t take themselves too seriously, but hey ho, these things happen. Again, I don’t really know what to say (“Then why are you writing this, you dick?” I hear you cry. I will not dignify that with a response, you should be ashamed of yourself…) so I may just have to let the music speak for them. Their songs are often very silly. They don’t exist as a band to write especially deep lyrics, they just want to have a good time and hope that you have a good time too.
Go see them live if you can, they’ll make you dance until you cry.

The Long Blondes

Yes, they won an eNeMy…E award, but did they get the attention they deserved? Sadly not.
Okay, so again, I’ve chosen a band who are not around any more. This is what I do, alright? I just can’t let go!
Look at them! They’re so good looking! Why were they not appreciated more?
I saw these guys live a couple of times and thoroughly enjoyed them. Their debut album, ’Someone To Drive You Home’ could be the soundtrack to many girls’ lives, despite the majority of the songs being written by Dorian, on the far left in the picture.
The songs make you dance, they make you think, they make you attempt to sing higher than your vocal range will allow. All very positive things, I reckon.
The second album ‘”Couples”‘ (Yeah, that’s Couples in speechmarks within inverted commas. Effing with your head, yeah?) I’ll admit, was a grower. The first time I heard it, I was disappointed after the genius of ‘Someone To Drive You Home’, but it’s not often you can rival genius, so I gave it a second chance. And I’m glad I did. The songs began to get stuck in my head and I’d find myself singing along to them throughout the day. I was hooked again.
It filled me with genuine sadness the day I found they’d had to split. It was even more sad finding out the reason why. Dorian had suffered a stroke at the start of last year and so, found it difficult to continue playing guitar to such a level as he prevously had. They called it a day. I hear Dorian is still doing fine, which is the main thing.
Still though, I’d rather they existed for that short period of time than have them never exist at all.

________________________
I’ll leave it at five bands for now. I feel this entry getting lacklustre and I’d rather everyone mentioned got the same level of passion, even if there aren’t as many words written about them.
I’ll probably do a second one of these at some point, despite the fact that you don’t want one. But this is in the ’self-important writing’ section for a reason.

As promised, I’ve put three tracks by each artist into a Spotify playlist. It’s hard choosing just three, but any more and it would have ended up going out of control like some Spotify-Godzilla.
Click HERE for the playlist. Right HERE! Anywhere in this line! WOO!

For those of you unable to get onto Spotify, I apologise profusely and will instead take the lazy way out and give you a track-list so you can look them up, despite that being effort…

1. Art Brut – Formed A Band
2. Art Brut – Direct Hit
3. Art Brut – Moving To L.A
4. Jeffrey Lewis – Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror
5. Jeffrey Lewis – Back When I Was 4
6. Jeffrey Lewis – If You Shoot The Head You Kill The Ghoul
7. Larrikin Love – Happy As Annie
8. Larrikin Love – Well, Love Does Furnish A Life
9. Larrikin Love – On Sussex Downs
10. 1990s – See You At The Lights
11. 1990s - Super-Legal
12. 1990s – 59
13. The Long Blondes – Lust In The Movies
14. The Long Blondes – You Could Have Both
15. The Long Blondes – Peterborough

The Gentleman’s Game

First off,  feel I should explain myself. About a month prior to its official release, I received a copy of The Duckworth Lewis Method’s debut album, intending to review/talk about it on this very blog. The album has now been out for over a week. I am very lazy.

The Duckworth Lewis Method are pictured above, if you hadn’t guessed.
“Gosh, they look a bit familiar. Where do I recognise them from?”
Good question. I’ll tell you. The man at the front there with the rather admirable moustache is Neil Hannon of the Divine Comedy fame. The fella at the back sporting an equally impressive beard is Thomas Walsh of Pugwash. Together, they are the Duckworth Lewis Method, united in their love of cricket and talent for writing songs. We are led to believe that the more time they spent together, the more they became aware of an obvious gap in the market: cricket-pop, and so came a desire to create, in the words of Mr Hannon, ”possibly the least necessary album of recent years”.
They don’t like cricket. They love it.

Now, I know nothing about cricket. I am willing to throw my hands up and admit this. For as long as I can remember it has been my father’s favourite sport and, to give him credit, he has tried to explain the rules and rituals and funny little hat-wearing people to me, but I just do not get it. And I will not ever get it. I’ve come to accept this now. He often sighs with frustration and confirms that we’ll never understand by regaling us with the tale of when he tried to explain the rules to my older sister and she fell asleep during his lecture. I feel he does not take into consideration the fact that she was merely four days old at the time.

When this cricket-pop album came through my letter-box one Friday, I  promptly added it to my iPodular device, had a quick listen, nodded a lot, pretended to get the references and handed the cd to my father to enjoy at some point. I continued to listen for days after, slowly becoming more and more accustomed to each track. Immediately, the stand-out songs for me were ’The Age of Revolution’ and ‘Gentlemen and Players’. The former due to its general catchiness and musical mastery that reminds me of playing ‘Mafia’ on PS2 and the latter because it is melodic and sounds like the song you could listen to after a bbq when everyone is sitting around outside, well-fed and having a drink.
Other tracks of note include ‘The Nightwatchmen’ and ‘Jiggery-Pokery’, containing the phrase “Aussie skulduggery” which I have adopted to describe any situation I find myself in where I feel I’ve been wronged or tricked… although not necessarily by an Australian.

While making the above discoveries, little did I know that my father was listening tenaciously and growing attached to the same album. It was when I caught him whistling the chorus of ‘The Age of Revolution’ that I stopped him and casually asked his opinion of the record overall. I expected a reply along the lines of “Yes, it’s good, very clever…” and nothing more, but he grinned and started telling me every detail of why he loved it. I sat, bemused, as he explained the significance of the food references in ‘Jiggery Pokery’ (apparently Mike Gatting, the man the song is from the perspective of to all you fellow cricket-muggles, was rather a large man. I have learned.) and how he always mis-hears “Go and get your pads on…” for “Go and get your pants on…”
This sealed the deal for me. When my dad deems an album “Fantastic”, there’s no argument, it is so.

Proof that even if you don’t have a vast knowledge of the gentleman’s game you can really enjoy this album, but if you do, you’ll probably really really enjoy it.
Go and buy it. It’s only July, so you’ve still got ages to enjoy this perfect summer soundtrack.

And as a treat because you’ve been such good boys and girls, you can click the menacing picture below to watch The Duckworth Lewis Method’s Black Cab Session…

(It really is rather good.)

Etiquette: A Guide… [Part One]

et⋅i⋅quette /ˈɛtɪkɪt, -ˌkɛt/ [et-i-kit, -ket]
–noun

1.	conventional requirements as to social behavior; proprieties of conduct as established in any class or community or for any occasion.

2.	a prescribed or accepted code of usage in matters of ceremony, as at a court or in official or other formal observances.

3.	the code of ethical behavior regarding professional practice or action among the members of a profession in their dealings with each other: medical etiquette.

 

 

Road-Crossing
When you come to traffic lights in order to cross a road, the general unwritten rule is that if there is a small child also waiting to cross, you must not do so until the green man has put in an appearance. Even if there is no oncoming traffic, you must stand there until that little scamp shows his light-up face.
Bearing this in mind, this rule may be breached if a car is heading towards the crossing at a stupidly fast speed even as the lights turn red. If this occurs, you have permission to take one for the team and jump out in front of the car, getting hit, just to prove a point.

An example of Grandmother etiquette not in play…

 

A: Sorry I wasn’t here on Monday, my Granny died.
B: Your Nan? Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.
A: Granny, yeah. It was for the best though, she was in a lot of pain.
B: Oh… Well, I supposed that makes it a bit easier then… Were you close to your Nan?
A: My Granny? Yeah, but she lived quite far away so I didn’t get to see her as much as I’d have liked.
B: That’s always a tragic thing, but I’m sure she knew your Nan would have liked to have visited more…
A: My Granny, yeah…As A Customer
When in a shop, you must always remember that you are not better than the person serving you. Unless they’re obviously being rude to you, they’ll just be doing their job, so treat them pleasantly… you don’t even have to go that far, just don’t treat them unpleasantly. If you go to the till and you’re listening to music with headphones on, either remove one or both from your ears to make it at least appear like you think you’re not dealing with a robot. The same applies for being on your mobile. Wait until you’re finished on the phone and then go to pay for things. Otherwise you’ll miss important questions such as “Do you need a bag?” or “Have you got anything smaller?”
Another thing it’s wise to do is to actually physically hand the person behind the till your money when paying. There is not much more irritating to the humble shopkeeper than a customer who will place a bank-note in front of themselves and expect said sales assistant to reach over to retrieve it as if they’re dancing like the lower-than-you class scum you believe them to be. Dance, shop-slave, dance for your recommended retail price!

On The Buses
Bus etiquette is often discussed. The two main rules of the bus used to be to always let people off before you get on and to never take up two seats by sitting on the chair nearest the aisle when the one by the window is free. Recently, with the rising population of children with phones, a new unspoken rule has been added: everybody must hate the kids at the back of the bus who blare out, usually terrible, music from their phones.
It’s a given that if an old person turns up at the bus stop to wait after you, you let them board the vehicle before you. This is true, right? You’re not a monster. However, the way this scenario is due to pan out is: You wait at the bus stop > Elderly person comes along > Bus arrives > Elderly person glances at you expectantly > You say, “On you go…” > They thank you and get on the bus > You follow – End of exchange. EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS, yet there are still some old people who will completely miss out the expectant glance, the wait to be invited to board first and the “thank you” and will just get on the bus before you. This must be stopped. They must learn. It’s not always a bad thing to rugby tackle a pensioner, even if they are someone’s grandmother/granny/gran/nan/grandma.

 

Coughing
COVER YOUR MOUTH! No, we all know that, so what follows is for those who aren’t coughing. If  someone has the nerve to suddenly and involuntarily expel air from their lungs in your presence, don’t shoot them dirty looks, don’t roll your eyes and don’t hit them in the face.  The clue is in the word ‘involuntarily’.
This rule, however, does not always apply in exams. If you’re sitting an important exam, it is guaranteed that there will be someone there with a hideous cold who will be spluttering away in the corner. They will be offered a glass of water, but this will not help much. The stress of exams experienced may provide a valid excuse for you to gain permission to tut about them after the exam is over. Also, you can blame them if you fail.

Grandmother
Granny etiquette dictates that if someone is talking about their grandmother and subsequently is using their word for grandmother, out of respect to both them and the lady in question, you must adopt this name, even if it goes against anything you’ve ever stood for. Especially if their granny/gran/nan/grandma has just died.

Further Complications

Buy this.

From the “complicated boogie” of the album’s title-track right to the musically Barry White-esque ‘You’re In My Eyes (Discosong)’, I do not want this record to end.
I just want to put this album in my mouth. I bet it even tastes good.

HMV | play.com | Amazon

There’s more to life than books you know, but not much more [Part 1]

As much as I love working in a book shop, sometimes I wonder if it’s for the best that I do as not only do I have a tendency to judge books by their covers but also, probably the wiser option, I form an opinion based on their titles. I don’t think too much about titles until I see a really bad one. I’d like to claim that seeing a particularly terrible one ruins my day, but really the smaller version of me controlling my brain rubs her hands with glee.

So, I’m going to start a list of book titles that anger me to sheer joy. I feel this may be constantly updated or various entries on the subject shall be made.
I am aware I’ve said the word ‘titles’ too many times already. Strap yourself in, it’ll come up a few more times.
Any suggestions gratefully received!

‘I Don’t Mean To Be Rude, But…’ by Simon Cowell

HA! Oh, I get it! Because he’s a notoriously rude bastard! Ohh, good one, Simon! Of COURSE you mean to be rude, that’s your job, if you weren’t, you’d just be another dull music big-wig. What a truly witty title.

‘Déjà Dead’ by Kathy Reichs

I can’t put my finger on what’s so awful about this one. Perhaps it feels a little too Garth Marenghi-esque (albeit, not nearly as good). You can imagine Kathy sitting in front of the fire reading an actual line from the actual book, “He turned to look at the body. She wasn’t just dead,” a smug look to make sure we acknowledge how clever she is, “she was déjà dead…”*
I don’t know, I just get irritated by words that don’t have anything to do with each other being thrown together. What does déjà dead mean? Perhaps I should have read it… No! Mustn’t think like that. If it had an intriguing title like ’Predict-a-Death’ or something, I may have been vaguely interested, but ‘Déjà Dead’ makes me want to force Kathy Reichs to ingest it through her eyeballs so nobody can buy it, thus I’d be saving lives.
*May not be actual line from the actual book.

‘N or M?’ Agatha Christie

I can’t help but feel she’s given the big question away here. And if the book’s conclusion can be reached simply by finding out if the answer is “N” or “M”, it sounds like a shit dilemma to be honest… It’s 50/50, innit? 
Unless it’s actually called “Norm?”, like what would happen if there was a powercut in Cheers, shutting off the lights and the revellers weren’t absolutely certain that Norm Peterson had just arrived at the bar or if it was some other guy making a witty beer/laziness/bad health remark, and so would question if it was him rather than exclaiming that it was.

‘Celebrities My Arse!’; ‘Cheers My Arse!’; ‘Football My Arse!’; ‘Reading My Arse!’ by Ricky Tomlinson


I’m not so much opposed to the titles of these, but more the fact that they exist. Oh, Ricky Ricky Ricky… I loved you once… and yes, everyone cashes in on popular television shows and films they’ve starred in now and then and we could have called it a momentary lapse or a blip, but there’s four of them, Ricky, four… and it’s 2009. The Royle Family was excellent, but it’s not really relevant to today…
I do also wonder how true the sub-titles that claim these are the funniest _____ anecdotes I’ll ever read are. It seems a bit coincidental that Ricky Tomlinson tells the best celebrity and drinking anecdotes I’ll ever read… Are they really? Or is it just a way to give a quick description of what’s in the books? Oh, who am I kidding, obviously the man just has a gift.
I’m not angry, Ricky, just disappointed. Go home, Ricky, you’ve had enough…

‘This Is My Life’ by Eamonn Holmes

“Eamonn, this is important, this is your chance to win the hearts of the vast majority of people that think you come across as a twat. If you can come up with a title that’s funny and original, you could turn this around and make everyone fall in love with you like the gigantic teddy bear you are!”
“Really? Oh, okay then, well this is going to require some thought… OH! I’ve got it! How about ’My Life’?”
“That’s good, Eamonn, but it needs something more. A little more sass! An edge, you know, something clever. A play on words or something. Maybe even ‘My Life As A Slightly Below Average TV Personality’!”
“Okay then, how about ‘This Is My Life’?”
“Eamonn, that’s good, but like I say, it needs something else.”
“But I don’t think you get it. Do you remember that show ‘This Is Your Life’?”
“I recall such a programme, yes…”
“Well, if you remember correctly, you’ll know that the host was none other than Eamonn Andrews. Now, his name was Eamonn and my name is Eamonn, but this isn’t your life, This Is MY Life. Get it?”
“Good god… You’re right, Eamonn, that’s genius. Everyone’s going to adore you! I’ll go ring the publishers!”

More to follow. Exactly when, I do not know…

An open letter to an old chum…

Dear BBC,
Who am I to address you so publicly (or not, for about 4 people read this blog) with advice? That’s right, I am nobody. But certain newspapers seem to have a vendetta against your fair corporation and quite frankly, recently, you’ve come across looking a bit like a pushover by giving into what the select few claim to want. You need to stop caring about those who don’t tune into your broadcasts and complain just because tabloids tell them to. You can afford to lose these people, you don’t need to feel you’ve to act on what they say because obviously they’re not worthy of your programming if they can’t think for themselves.
What’s the worst they can do? Sue? On what grounds? Most of the things being complained about (the queen-offending, for example) are, when you boil it down, only offensive to people if they are directly involved. If the queen speaks out against Frankie Boyle’s claims that she’s now so old that her “pussy is haunted”, then that would be fair enough, but why allow other people to speak on her behalf? She can do it for herself at christmas on her Christmas Special… It baffles me that most people who have been in touch with Ofcom of late are obviously just watching tv and pointing out things that people should be offended by, rather than things people are actually offended by.
As for the Jeremy Clarkson thing, have the people who complained ever heard anything he’s ever said before… ever? (PS: ever.) Surely, the only people who should be complaining are truckers? And I reckon most of them probably wouldn’t even care and would react in the same way I do each time someone claims everyone in Scotland is an intimidating scumbag, which is by shrugging it off, muttering “wanker…” and being content in the knowledge that I know better. Same with the Andrew Sachs thing. The only people who had the right to (and probably the original 2 that did) complain about it are Andrew Sachs and his granddaughter. Why would anyone else complain? “A man who played a Spanish stereotype back in the day that we all thought was very funny was rather ticked off. I’m here to speak for him.” Oh dear CHRIST, I can’t believe I’m discussing this again.
I don’t even particularly care for Clarkson, but for the love of yahweh, if you keep listening to the people who are sitting, staring, slavering over each and every one of your broadcasts with notepad on knee, ready to pick up on the slightest little throw-away comment, you’re going to have no television shows left. Eventually, there will be no opinions allowed on tv; no jokes allowed from stand-up comedians unless they’re about puppies (and how brilliant puppies are, I might add, I mean, the way they just lick your face! HA! It’s like they’ve not heard of hygiene!) and essentially no content.
Basically; DON’T GIVE IN TO WANKERS WHO COMPLAIN. I like to complain about things (see: this blog) but I’d hate myself if I started to make official complaints to companies about things that don’t directly affect me or anyone I know. Keep airing good shows with actual humorous content. Who cares if the number of people who complain start to tune out? They can’t avoid you forever. And even if they do, it’s what? Less than 1% of the overall viewing figures?
Bah! Bah humbug. Kick some ass, BBC.

Love and hugs,
Kirsten
xxxx
PS: Please can I be in charge of BBC3 now? I’d really like it to go back to being fantastic like it was when it first started and when it showed Ideal, the Boosh (series one and two, mainly, ‘cos it had started to show the millionth series of Two Pints… by the time series three was aired), Nighty Night and Snuff Box and I feel whoever is in charge of programming on it right now is out to make that channel a laughing stock. Coming Of Age? It made me want to rip out my own ovaries so as to prevent my future children from being born and thus having to witness such hideousness.

In other news, I’m rather chuffed that some people have got to this blog by searching “inneskiadventures”. How do they find it in the first place? I like it! Leave us a comment, squires, it’s ever-so-exciting to think people actively seek out this drivel!

It’s 3.23am and I’m tired. Meeting up with Jill for lunch tomorrow, looking rather forward to it. For now though, I’m finishing off this rum and then going to bed. And by bed, I mean couch. ‘Cos that’s how I roll.

California dreaming

It’s too hot.
I’ve been at Laura’s a lot over the past few days and we’ve all agreed that her house was unbearably warm. BUT she does have a fan… which is nice.
THOSE WERE INTERESTING OPENING SENTENCES…
That was sarcasm.

I’ve realised that I hate myself for in the past having uttered the phrase “Aww, I love Drunk [Name of Associate]!” especially when I’ve said this in front of the person I’m talking about. I can’t imagine there’s much worse than being told by someone who never mentions that they love you that they love a version of you that isn’t the actual you. You probably go out of your way to appear charming and endearing most of the time, only for that to not be acknowledged, overpowered by the fact that you might stumble over a shoelace every few steps. “Oh my god, you falling over is way funnier than anything you’ve ever said!”
I’m glad I stopped telling people this.

Speaking of boring alcohol-related patter, I also dislike it when people can tell you exactly what they had to drink and in what quantities. It’s not impressive, love, it only tells me that your highest achievement is that you managed to afford it all. And money’s no real achievement.
People who at the time of mild inebriation insist on coming up to you and saying the words, “Oh my god, I’m so drunk!” also irritate the fingernails off of me. As do the people who will make you feel like a degenerate after they’ve seen you intoxicated. You’ve no reason to feel bad unless you know for a fact in a drunken state you’ve molested a member of their family or killed their guinea pig. You’re only human and they are not superior; it just so happens that they didn’t stumble over their own shoelaces (but oh my god, when you did that, it was SO FUNNY!!!) or do a genuine, accidental spoonerism.

If this is the sort of thing conversation inevitably turns to with friends months after the event, you need some new friends. Or at least help them to experience actual life. They obviously haven’t if these “adventures” are the highlights of their year.

I think we’re off the alcohol subject now. I also hate my advice being ignored after it has been so desperately sought. I hate when people read things I’ve been working on in notebooks that are lying around (as is their right to be) without asking. I hate when people don’t complain about things that need to be complained about. I hate that I know more about most people than they know about me despite them having known me forever. Don’t get me wrong, I like listening to what others have to say, but it’s just rude when the one time you tell someone about something vaguely interesting in your life and they’ve forgotten two days later when you mention it again. I hate not being able to have people to speak passionately about things with. I hate the way that someone will see that it makes others laugh when they say genuinely stupid things, so from then on take advantage of this and purposely say more idiotic things. I hate feeling so far away and isolated from the things I love most. This is fueled by the fact that I am up top while everything good is down south. I hate having to resort to negative blogging about things I hate purely because I can’t sleep. I hate not sleeping.