keresaspa: (Homer rage)
You'll forgive me if I pass on the end of year survey thing this time out as, for more reasons than I care to remember, I'll have little desire to recall 2016 in the future. But nonetheless I'll draw a veil on this most egregious of twelvemonths in my own time-honoured fashion:

Top 100 Artists of the Year )
keresaspa: (Nina looking a tad pertubed)
Nothing quite like this time of year to bring the vermin out is there, be it the drunken scum littering the streets from the early afternoon or the filthy politicians rewarding their cronies with their plastic "honours". Pah, they can stuff this particular arbitrary date in the calendar where the sun doesn't shine as far as I'm concerned. But I've established my own tradition for this specific date and I must keep it going regardless so:

Keresaspa's top 100 artists of the year )
keresaspa: (Albert Gladstone Trotter)
2013, eh? What a year! All this new stuff happened, a bunch of old stuff stopped happening and a load of other stuff continued happening. Crazy! There'll never be another year the same, although every year will probably be a bit like it in that there'll be earthquakes and chaffinches and carbon dioxide and outbreaks of drizzle and quarks and all that other stuff that every year is packed with. You know, fifty years from now if somebody comes up to me and says "remember 2013?" I'll say, well nothing as I'll be in the cold, cold ground by then. Mind you, were my corpse able to talk I'm sure it would say "piss off. What's the meaning of coming to my grave just to ask about indiscriminate years? Bloody nuisance!"

Still, New Year's Eve! Just think, this time a year ago the earth had completed one less transit of the sun but, now as if by magic, it is back in the same arbitrary place in space as it was then, give or take the bit we have to make up with leap years. Momentous isn't the word for it. It's been a whole 2,014 years since somebody started a new calendar based on a miscalculation about the birth of our Jesus so obviously the only answer is to go mad, drink your own bodyweight in alcohol and join hands with strangers in an unusual manner whilst singing a Robert Burns poem whose lyrics you don't quite know. Those who had a bad time in 2013 can look forward to 365 days of unmitigated bliss in the coming year, because as we all know that's how life works, plus we get to make new year's resolutions as January 1 is officially the only day you can decide to stop eating so many biccy-wicks. My resolution is to be the first man to climb Mount Everest. I'm sure I'll manage it before those pesky Norwegians get there first.

So a guid new year to ae and aw. It's been probably the single most important year in history containing the numbers 2, 0, 1 and 3 (in that order) and we'll never ever forget it, barring the onset of Alzheimer's disease.

And now, because I demanded it, I will keep up my annual tradition by recording for posterity the 100 musical artists whose works I listened to most in this twelvemonth. Read it and weep. Though leave the weeping to the end as it will interfere badly with your vision.

Here it is )

It's over

Dec. 31st, 2012 08:54 pm
keresaspa: (Fletch)
Another random date in a calendar, therefore another apparent occasion. Had I been born a Jew, a Muslim, a Hindu, an Iranian or a Chinese man today would have little significance. When you think about it doesn't have any particular significance even in the Christian calendar as 2012 and 2013 are two fairly unimportant run of the mill years. 2012 had its up and downs but I'll sure as hell be glad not to hear the word Titanic or the phrases "our time, our place", "Diamond Jubilee" or "London Olympics" ever again. Still, I suppose tradition dictates that I must wish a happy new year to my millions and millions of fans out there in internetland.

And now in a further tradition that I started last year (and purely for my own amusement so you can slip out now) I shall record the top 100 musical artists that I listened to this year.

Fun, if you like that sort of thing! )
keresaspa: (Boycie)
That's me back from England then. I'm nursing an injured right leg for my trouble but it was a fun time as I shall now elaborate upon.

keresaspa: (Jimmy Edwards)
I bemoaned yesterday how much I have become a slave to the internet to keep me amused but on the other hand one of the benefits of having internet on tap is that it allows me to keep a close eye on certain patterns of my own behaviour. My insistence of allowing all music to which I listen to pass through means that I can see which particular artists have dominated my listening this year. For my own interests I believe I will list them here.

Little amuses the innocent and far less the fool )

Of course all of the above unadulterated self-indulgent waffle was inspired by the fact that the year 2011 is about to end apparently and were we Germans it would be ordered by law that we should watch this slice of hilarity.

I'm sure Grimsby must be proud of Freddie Frinton for that little slice of mirth which in no way went on about eight minutes longer than it should have. Well, I suppose the Germans would find a lot of what we laugh at somewhat dull too (although clearly Jimmy James' drunk act was a million miles better). Einen guten Rutsch as they say down Bergisch Gladbach way.


May. 30th, 2006 03:25 pm
keresaspa: (Harry Cross)
I-ee! Still feeling a bit ropey from the weekend's festivities in Edinburgh. Time for a quick rundown, I believe. Feel free to skip over if you have no interest in the minutiae of my life.

Up early doors on Friday morning in order that myself and [ profile] queenmartina could get the plane from the newly rebranded George Best airport. Usual delays applied. Got into Edinburgh about one-ish, checked into the old hostel and swung round to get weekend wristbands from [ profile] ishkhara. After a bit of grub and a few bottles of the reasonably nice Victoria Bitter we headed off to the Teviot building to hear a number of bands making noise. Best of the bunch were an odd outfit named Trauma Pet who, despite the awful name and weird hair, had a few decent trad goth numbers up their sleeves. A fire alarm briefly interrupted proceedings. Knocked about with old (in the sense of long-established) cohorts [ profile] pinkiemcpinkie and [ profile] the_fi for a spell, before succumbing to exhaustion and skipping off.

Saturday began, rather bizarrely, with an Orange Order parade passing outside the hostel. It's somewhat odd when a little bit of home invades another setting, although unlike the Belfast versions this one was made up of a handful of die-hards, rather than hundreds. I gave into hangover temptation and converted to reading the Scottish Sun, an odd little paper that says very little in a lot of pages. Saturday night itself was a haze of Tennents lager, which was later supplanted by the girliness of Orange Vodka Kick. Good time all round, although I don't recall too much, apart from constantly having to leave the building to get a feg. The annoyance of this is compounded by the apparently strict enforcement of litter laws, meaning that one has to find a bin for all of one's dog-ends or else floor them in as furtive a manner as possible. The fact that there is a distinct lack of public bins is a pisser and I've heard they'll fine you as quick as a flash for dumping them. No doubt to pay for all those bloody plastic cows littering the place up.

By Sunday I was something of a wreck, being largely unused to consecutive nights on the bevvy, but I still managed to drag myself out and back on the swall to gone 3 in the morning. Up at an ungodly hour on Monday morning to check, we were then dumped into a communal room to wait until a more suitable leaving time. In an oddly surreal moment the South Park film was shown from about half ten onwards, a film that was just beyond weird after zero hours of sleep. The remainder of the waiting around time was taken up watching the woeful Meteor, a painful big budget disaster movie starring local boy Sean Connery. Another that was made even funnier by the lack of sleep. Following that it was off to the airport to get the plane home which was, in a possible first, on time.

In all, good fun all round. It was good to catch up with a lot of you. There are photos of me doing the rounds which I may or not share depending on how ghastly they look. Well, off I go. I'll probably need to do some work and will always need to peruse the Wikipedia articles for deletion in case one of my more esoteric contributions has come under attack. Enjoy the rest of the day!
keresaspa: (Karl Liebknecht)
Back to porridge and all that. As stated previously (and as some of you will know from meeting me over there) I spent the May Day weekend in Edinburgh. A fun time was had by all. There are photos of me in states of extreme drunkenness (Sunday in particular saw steady consumption of the demon drink from 7 PM to 3 AM without cessation) which may eventually be unleashed on the unsuspecting lj public as soon as [ profile] vulcanlolita gets round to uploading (think that's the right term) them. Highlight for my good self was seeing Inkubus Sukkubus on Saturday night (if memory serves). A good opportunity for this old fool to dig his goth dance out of storage and give it another airing (looks a bit like Ian Anderson in his hey-day if he had lost most of his hair and doubled in weight). All round a top bit of craic (although it was a pity that all my teams lost and the Baggies now look certainties for relegation but that's another story). Feel as rough as New Barnsley today because of all the bevvying, tabbing and trekking, mind you. Not as young as I used to be. Returning to essay writing can wait for a while yet, methinks.

And because I wont be here before then I'll end with one of these for [ profile] vulcanlolita which I whipped from an internet translator and is probably gibberish. Thought that counts and all that, our kid.

с днем рождения


Apr. 14th, 2004 02:40 pm
keresaspa: (Piggy Banks!)
So I got back from Edinburgh on Monday after a bonzer weekend. Already I'm struggling to remember lots of it as I was invariably liquored up throughout. Found a pub named Frankensteins with a (funnily enough) Frankenstein theme that served as a base camp during the day whilst the nights featured a selection of bands, the best of whom were obviously The Mission on Saturday and NFD on Sunday. Head over to [ profile] vulcanlolita for a more in-depth discussion as her drink memory seems to be better than mine. There was a particularly funny incident on Friday (I think) when an old boozer/header was standing in the street throwing fake punches at a huge German tourist who just stood there letting it happen even though he was about a foot and a half bigger than the wee drunk. Hil-hairyarse. In all it was a good old time. It's a pretty relaxed city and everybody I encountered was decent (except the nutter from the last sentence obviously). The Edinburgh Dungeon was good touristy craic and I even managed to shake my flu despite some very hard living. Meanwhile it's back to porridge as I still have a bloody essay hanging over my head. Should keep me busy until I'm off again to London at the end of the month or start of next month (can't remember off-hand). I'll say a welcome to [ profile] lady_bogside and I'll split to do some work. Cheerio.


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