It’s packing time here. Two trips to Hillend to get back in to the skiting lark have prepared me, and weathered my ass for the worst. Talking of weather, Chamonix is currently hovering at an incredible temperature of -19 degrees centigrade. Fairly sobering (literally, I hope).
Also a very expensive shopping spree to get some Vans boots and Chiemsee togs. Should be looking fairly cool as my board soars off in the opposite direction to my flailing frozen limbs.
Will be avoiding both yellow and avalanchey snow. See you shortly hopefully.
Bee Thousand make a return after an extended Xmas break with a couple of shows.
We are delighted to be supporting The Kills [update: website seems to be fucked right now] on the Scottish leg of their UK tour. If you’ve not heard this band yet I urge you to check them out. The dates are:
Saturday 5th February – Oran Mor, Glasgow – doors 8pm
Sunday 6th February – The Lemon Tree, Aberdeen – doors 8pm
Ticket prices seem to vary online so I’m not entirely sure what it is for each gig. It’s safe to assume it will be in the £8 – £10 range.
Spread the word!
If you have young relatives to spoil, be sure and consider this book from Amazon. The naively titled Snatch In A Mess follows the adventures of Snatch, the lovable – if untidy – puppy.
It only has two customer reviews so far (worth reading), but I predict a Hasselhoff-style review explosion very soon.
Lots has been happening in the land of Jill of late. But equally, it’s been pretty bland. Christmas and new years festivities have given way to getting my head down in a bid to do some work for the crazy deadlines gliding ever closer. Testiment to the fact that by Wednesday of this week i’d worked 60hrs. Happy happy joy joy. Totally dinghied the preposterous notion of becoming a teacher at the begining of January so am left with the oh-so-exciting (terrifying) prospect of moving to London this summer in search of jobs, money and fast cars. Failing that, a creative job in advertising has been hinted at with citigate smarts, but i’m scared to say more incase I jinx it : )
Somehow, the myopic yet talented kids at McIntyres have deemed me crazy enough to model for them at some nationwide thingyhairwhatsit. This is excellent news. Firstly, apparently it means that I get more free haircuts and stuff than you can shake a pair of GHD straighteners at. Secondly, they’re giving me free clotheses. Thirdly, they’re carting me off to Glasgow and maybe London to do… stuff, and last but not least, the scottish hairdresser of the year is gonna oversee it all. How cool is that? I do however, have to do the catwalk thing and I walk like a rugby player. Lessons on poise from ballet dancers would be advantageous. *books on head*
In other news, ebay has been my obsession of choice this week after netting a fab pair of B&O headphones. My next prospective purchase is a wee iPod to use with them : )
What’s the difference between Mark Thatcher and an Aberdonian?
OK, I’m back before something seriously weird happens in the comments.
A good day today. Edinburgh is currently taking a snowy flaky beating, making this a great day for snowboarding practice ahead of my wee holiday to Chamonix on the 29th. The excitement of Swindon’s roundabouts earlier this month was good but left me wanting more.
Now as we all know, dry ski slopes are made of giants’ used toothbrushes. This lets people skite down them in a manner mostly unlike snow and tear friction holes in their expensive trousers and skin. Additionally, a bottom layer of depleted uranium ensures that boarders suffer vivid-plum assbone bruising on every swear-filled tumble.
So for added confidence on the fatal slopes today I was wearing what are amusingly called impact shorts.
Imagine a pair of shorts partially lined with plastic (crucially over the coccyx) such that they hold their shape like a suit of armour. Actually now I think about it they are exactly like, and in no way different from, a suit of armour. In fact, think Ass Armour.
Abbreviated to Assmour, possibly. Even though that’s a plausible contraction of Ass Amour; which is much more likely to stain your waterproofs.
Suffice it to say that despite a handful of genuinely bum-shredding misadventures I am completely uninjured. Hail to Ass Armour!
The funniest bit was, however:
Hello, hello, hello… and in the words of Jake Shears, ‘Happy motherfuckin’ new year, you beeeautiful people!’. Oh, dear god yes. Slobbery kisses to all who didn’t receive them on new years eve. Rosy, Fred, my kids, etc, etc.. And I trust those who did receive them made it through relatively unscathed.
go-go-gadget hugs to y’all.
Jilly the bean xx