Can You Pull It Off?

I love going for a drink at the Excelsior on Dale Street after work. It is a nice place for nice people. Unfortunately the staff are also good looking and as a result the bar gets crowded. And the conversation is odd.  Today all the talk was about www.thewesterncwm.com 

the truth be told, I'm treading on my tippy toes

I know I have been a bad blogger. I have not blogged in some time. For this I apologise. I will try to change. In my defense I have been busy. I have been working on my low light photography. Time well spent dont you think?

Liverpool Nativity

I just got back from the BBC Liverpool Nativity which was amazing. A part of me enjoyed it more because it was filmed, in part, around my neighbourhood. Another part of me enjoyed it because I have a soft spot for Jennifer Ellison. If you are wondering where I was stood, I was next to the guy with the hands off sign at the back near St Georges Hall.

I was also impressed with the turn out. It is nice to see Liverpool give a good account of itself.

I'm Going To Rockferry Tomorrow

I am giving you my hot tip for the forthcoming musical year. It is my public demonstration of down-ness with the music scene. Proof that I am down with the kids. My previous tips have included Bon Jovi in 1986 and Michelle McManus in 2003 which demonstrates my pedigree.
My tip for 2008 is Duffy who sings about a town called Rockferry which is on the Wirral. I have been to Rockferry and I can think of nicer places to move to or sing about. But then what do I know. The song is the shizzle.

Oh, I forgot to mention Pato Banton in 1994.

Addicted to Charlie

I love Charlie. Not Charlie Boorman and not Charlie in the Vietnam or Class A context. I love my hairdresser. When they booked me in at Andrew Collinge (name dropper) on Castle Street and told me I would be seeing Charlie my initial thoughts were that a young man would be running his coarse hands through my hair which unsettled me a little bit. Not because I have issues but because I pay that little bit more for 'a bit of all right' to do my hair. Hey, everyone thinks it. Its just that I have such little self respect that I say it out loud.

Anyway Charlie was definitely a women if you know what I am saying. Definitely. She didn't say much though, for the best as her breath stank from here to the Wirral. She knew it as well, you know, when you know someone knows? It was really bad. My god.

Today I have been listening to by neighbour singing in the shower. You can hear it thought the ventilation pipes in the bathroom.

Give Me Something To Believe In

Manchester this week to see Maroon 5 at the MEN and I was expecting pop rock. The expected running with a skip in your step was provide in the Chris Martin style which was nice to see. A classic move. At one point the lead singer and the drummer were belting out beats on the a couple of sets of drums and it was amazing. It was the intro to "A Little Of Your Time". I thought Elbow were good with their flashing lights/drums repertoire but this was very uptempo and made me want to samba. Although last time I danced in the salsa style, Hermione, who had come to the Gbar with me, compared me to a country dancer. So I didn't samba. I am no Colin Jackson.

Too many references in this post. Here are some nice photos taken while putting my zoom lens to good use from the back of the gig.

Feast On His Flesh

I have friends over during the weeks sometimes. I am a party animal in that respect. Today I hosted Cuthbert for chicken fajitas. Cuthbert is a local Liverpool lad, but his accent is not so strong that you cant understand what he is saying. He calls me 'cherub' a lot, and often I don't understand why he says some of the things he says, but you put up with it. He is also a compulsive liar.

Anyway, mid dinner I hear voices in the court yard. Sounded like someone had found a dead body. I looked out the window and saw nothing. I walked down the stairs with Cuthbert to find out what the noises were about and there, sat in a corner of the courtyard was a bird of prey, a sparrow hawk I thought, with a pigeon pinned to the ground under its claws, one wing still flapping as it tried to get away. I was fascinated by it. Cuthbert was even more excited than I was. We watched for a few minutes and had a staring contest with the bird which looked at us in a way that made me think we were its next target. It was a big bird.

The wing had stopped flapping and hawk started pecking at the pigeons upper body. It made a sound like you would hear when tearing expensive wrapping paper. Or when you are ripping flesh. Feathers were flying everywhere, it was quite moving in a natural predator vs. prey type of way. It was wrong but then I thought it was no different than a trip down to the local butcher (you should see my butcher). Cuthert piped up "It was so exciting.... I enjoyed watching it so much that at one point i thought about touching myself".

That bit was definitely wrong. Fajitas were tastey though.