This post was brought to you by Ms. Jillybean and the number seven.
Did you know?
1. It’s the PH level of pure water.
2. Its the number of the ages of man into which William Shakespeare divided a lifetime.
3. it’s the number of LCD segments that make up the display on sexy lo-fi calculators.
4. It’s considered lucky, world over. Bingoooo!
5. It’s the number of digits in an american telephone number, excluding the area code.
6. It’s the number of sides on a fifty pence piece (s’called a heptagon)
7. It cant be divided evenly into a circle. Ie: 360 divided by 1,2,3,4,5 and six all come out with round numbers. If you try to divide 360 by 7 you get 51.428571. Which is just stupid.
In other news, I’m good, i’m wearing wednesday pants on a torsday, and i’m going out tonight to get trousered with lesbians. But I will be good. That will be all.
OK – officially I got back Monday. I arrived home loving the Edinburgh cold and rain (see earlier post), partly because I haven’t seen precipitation in weeks and mostly because I was still pished.
You’ll have to bear with me for a bit. The toll of 16 nights of hammering (and flying over 9K miles) is pretty real, and my head is only now tuning back in to Reality FM. I haven’t done anything so punishing since the Euro tour with Stu. Thankfully I kept a record of each day’s activity on me phone so it’s not all completely a blur.
Photo evidence will have to wait a few days, as my latest Exilim camera is dead. After surviving countless dents, adventures and scratches, it finally fell prey to one of my dear cousins dropping it into a pint of water. A tragically ignominious end.
Aaron 3, Cameras NIL.
Exciting times indeed. I am about to venture to the train station to meet Johnny and go to London. We were lucky enough to secure two tickets for the first NIN gig in London since 1999 in the oh-so-tiny 2000 capacity Astoria. Oh, exciting times indeed.
Cold water fell from the sky onto my face and I was never happier.
Bee Thousand : May 2003 – March 2005
Air has photos of our fun-packed Final Ever Show that we played at 5am in ATX. Hopefully he’ll stick ‘em up here.
Quite possibly the coolest man alive.
When things like this come along I’m reminded of why I like the web so much.
SXSW, Venezuela and iPod stories are on their way, I promise…
If this were a whingy livejournal i’d probably say:
- I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.
- My eyes are spacey, my knees are wobbly and my hair is bad.
- I’ve avaraged 80hrs a week for the past month
- I feel like i’m going to die. Now.
- Just realised I have the biggest library fine in the history of libraries, ever.
- And the iTunes store isn’t working. Motherfuckerrrr.
But it’s an upbeat, smiley post. So i’m going to go with:
- Six weeks and it’s easy street.
- Hopefully punk-ass letters going after the jilly and the bean
- My family kick zee ass. My mum and sis rescued me from uni today and took me for a carb-fest lunch-o-rama. We went to the dca and they served us really quickly and i had pasta and it was yummy and my sister gave me one of her fish balls and it was nice too and then they went away again but my sister bought me bach remedies stuff that you drop on your tongue and it tastes like alcohol and floowers and its supposed to make you clever and that.
- Off to Jordan valley in 4 weeks. Its the lowest point on terra firma anywhere in the whole wide world dontcha know.
- I’m wearing my favourite cherry pants.
Fuck, i’m dull.
Gatwick. At check-in, Delta airlines are on “heightened security”. An On The Buses-moustached pencilneck is suspicious of my Cambodia visa and gives me a grilling re: my baggage. Travel mode not yet engaged: suppress minor freakout.
Flight is cool despite decrepit 70s ‘airplane’. Pilot’s accent is fantastic, can’t help but hear Bill Hicks’s line about “Clam Lappers 1 through 90″. Fellow passengers bemused at my mirth.
See Sideways and The Incredibles on the crappy retro screen and love them both. Find Mrs Incredible quite hot; it has clearly been too long.
In a vain displacement effort the GBA gets an epic pummelling with Zelda and Mario Golf.
Atlanta, Georgia is hot and travelsweaty. High-security, zero-privacy toilet cubicles (you can see through door gaps), with seats for asses the size of Atlantis.
The quartz in my body clock is broken after getting 6 hours back. Plenty time to chill; thankfully airports are made for sitting around checking out totty.
The nice US passport bloke clocks that I’m Mr Bell from Scotland, comedy cogs whirr and he asks if I’m related to Alexander. “Yes,” I reply, mildly astonished, “you should see the phones in our house.”
Soon off to Austin.
A bit of a crazy spontaneous last-minute decision was taken this week. I’m flying off to Austin, Texas on Saturday to check out the South by South West music/film festival. That’s the kind of leftfield curveball joker-in-the-pack that I am.
Me old pal Caitlin has promised to put me up and make me drink too much. Stu and co. also attending so japes should be many and varied. Will also have plenty of time during the day to explore and formulate fascinating insights into the Texan way, so updates to follow. Rock etc.