Don't call it a comeback
Ciao ragazzi!
Just when you thought it was safe to go back onto t'internet, the US are found out to be mining your activities, and I write a blog. Truly a bad week.
It's been almost a year since my last brain dump on here, so I apologise for either a) being away so long, or b) coming back (delete as applicable). But, as seasoned Michael acolytes (or 'Mich-olytes', I think will not catch on) will know, in my last post I put up a video of a song, which for purposes of explaining my absence, will explain my absence. Frankly, it has been a year of drugs, women, booze, international headlining tours, dreams and more drugs*. It's been so hedonistically rock'n'roll that I can remember none of it, and it seems that The Man have deemed my burning light to have burned so bright that He has deleted almost all record of it from t'internet. Furthermore, He has scurrilously wiped my brain and replaced it with more humdrum memories of work and general pottering. Gah, The Man strikes again!
In truth, I have been meaning to sit down and do something for a few months, but as the French may or may not say, "I just haven't been arsed". It must also be said that I've been meaning to do many things in life, for example: stop smoking; pay my student loan; write a serious blog; develop a greater motivation and determination to do things. But it seems that no matter how much I close my eyes and hope for an effort free arrival at those objectives, I just always end up reading about football instead.
So, yeah, it's been ages, and I thought it'd be about time I write something to mark two significant milestones in my life. In April, Death's cold bony fingers tightened their grip on my shoulders, as I entered my fourth decade on your planet. Various old farts had suggested that I'd start to reconsider my life and make decisions and other things that adults do, and despite much pfffing and dismissal on my part, they may have a point. Decision number one: instead of fannying about with roll-ups, I'm just going to smoke pipes from now on. I've also been dipping my toe into the world of whisky, but one of my friends insists this is not the best way to drink it, so I've also been pouring it down my throat. Although he's Italian, he seems to be on to something.
Another significant marker of time passed just last week, and that was my fifth anniversary of landing on these shores. Without wanting to do a crappy sitcom-style flashback montage, I've seen and done many crazy things here. Do you remember when Monica got a turkey stuck on her head and I had to pull it off?! Hilarious tom-foolery, but no, I don't remember it either. And the same time it seems both incredibly far away, and yet also very close since I got here, but then a common criticism is that I'm not very good with perspective. To think, this time five-ish years ago, I was just a lightly tattooed, pasty larvae without a sense of myself, any knowledge of the language, or any clue as to what I was doing. Fast forward to today, and............................... now I have more tattoos (boom boom!). That is progress!
This milestone has led me to dive deep down through the layers of football and cymbal-banging monkeys in my brain, to examine the blackened core of my being and to ask the Big Questions: Who am I? How did I get here? Where am I going? What am I doing? And most pertinently, why do I keep on spiking my own drinks?
I still haven't arrived at any answers, but I'll be sporting a deerstalker, magnifying glass and substance abuse habit and searching out the answers to these riddles in Edinburgh this summer.
In the last year, I'm sure stuff's happened, and just last night when I was lying in bed thinking about this, I became certain that something noteworthy happened in January, but I just can't remember what it was. I'm sure it was kerrazy-fun though, and emminently readable. In brief, Genoa are crap, the weather's been humpty this year, and I found a shop in Siena called 'Fanny', which I'm entering into a legal dispute with over false advertising under the Trade Descriptions Act.
Oh, in the highly unlikely event that you're neither a blood relative, nor a friend of mine on Facebook, it would be remiss of me not to plug my Bandcamp page, here, or my Youtube here. If you're either a blood relative or a friend on Facebook, you should probably look anyway, come to think of it.
Until next year probably, chow!
*Only one of these is true
Just when you thought it was safe to go back onto t'internet, the US are found out to be mining your activities, and I write a blog. Truly a bad week.
It's been almost a year since my last brain dump on here, so I apologise for either a) being away so long, or b) coming back (delete as applicable). But, as seasoned Michael acolytes (or 'Mich-olytes', I think will not catch on) will know, in my last post I put up a video of a song, which for purposes of explaining my absence, will explain my absence. Frankly, it has been a year of drugs, women, booze, international headlining tours, dreams and more drugs*. It's been so hedonistically rock'n'roll that I can remember none of it, and it seems that The Man have deemed my burning light to have burned so bright that He has deleted almost all record of it from t'internet. Furthermore, He has scurrilously wiped my brain and replaced it with more humdrum memories of work and general pottering. Gah, The Man strikes again!
In truth, I have been meaning to sit down and do something for a few months, but as the French may or may not say, "I just haven't been arsed". It must also be said that I've been meaning to do many things in life, for example: stop smoking; pay my student loan; write a serious blog; develop a greater motivation and determination to do things. But it seems that no matter how much I close my eyes and hope for an effort free arrival at those objectives, I just always end up reading about football instead.
So, yeah, it's been ages, and I thought it'd be about time I write something to mark two significant milestones in my life. In April, Death's cold bony fingers tightened their grip on my shoulders, as I entered my fourth decade on your planet. Various old farts had suggested that I'd start to reconsider my life and make decisions and other things that adults do, and despite much pfffing and dismissal on my part, they may have a point. Decision number one: instead of fannying about with roll-ups, I'm just going to smoke pipes from now on. I've also been dipping my toe into the world of whisky, but one of my friends insists this is not the best way to drink it, so I've also been pouring it down my throat. Although he's Italian, he seems to be on to something.
Another significant marker of time passed just last week, and that was my fifth anniversary of landing on these shores. Without wanting to do a crappy sitcom-style flashback montage, I've seen and done many crazy things here. Do you remember when Monica got a turkey stuck on her head and I had to pull it off?! Hilarious tom-foolery, but no, I don't remember it either. And the same time it seems both incredibly far away, and yet also very close since I got here, but then a common criticism is that I'm not very good with perspective. To think, this time five-ish years ago, I was just a lightly tattooed, pasty larvae without a sense of myself, any knowledge of the language, or any clue as to what I was doing. Fast forward to today, and............................... now I have more tattoos (boom boom!). That is progress!
This milestone has led me to dive deep down through the layers of football and cymbal-banging monkeys in my brain, to examine the blackened core of my being and to ask the Big Questions: Who am I? How did I get here? Where am I going? What am I doing? And most pertinently, why do I keep on spiking my own drinks?
I still haven't arrived at any answers, but I'll be sporting a deerstalker, magnifying glass and substance abuse habit and searching out the answers to these riddles in Edinburgh this summer.
In the last year, I'm sure stuff's happened, and just last night when I was lying in bed thinking about this, I became certain that something noteworthy happened in January, but I just can't remember what it was. I'm sure it was kerrazy-fun though, and emminently readable. In brief, Genoa are crap, the weather's been humpty this year, and I found a shop in Siena called 'Fanny', which I'm entering into a legal dispute with over false advertising under the Trade Descriptions Act.
Oh, in the highly unlikely event that you're neither a blood relative, nor a friend of mine on Facebook, it would be remiss of me not to plug my Bandcamp page, here, or my Youtube here. If you're either a blood relative or a friend on Facebook, you should probably look anyway, come to think of it.
Until next year probably, chow!
*Only one of these is true
posted by michael | 01:49
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