I hate martin Tomlinson. I am going to wipe him from my ipod, delete my doting lj posts about him and forever scorn him. His dull, shitty band, selfish cunt, may have been good at frog last night but he is a horrible horrible man. I saw him in the artrocker room upstairs and thought, ooohhhh, shoes opportunity. I chose my moment carefully, waited until he was free and not talking to anyone. Went over, introduced myself, explained the site, was charming and polite. Asked to take a quick photo of his shoes and HE SAID NO! he just sneered, turned around and walked off. I asked so nicely, why did he have to be so mean? I wanted to punch him so badly. I consoled myself with the fact that he is nowhere near as good looking as you’d hope when looking close up, and in fact looks about 12. Eddie and Keith said they’d help me beat him. It’ll be so much fun. I’ll stuff that fur coat of his down his throat and punch him in the ear.
I’m so glad noone turned up to see him, frog was incredible empty. I hope he gets paid less than 74p for the night and sell the space where his spine should be and rent it out for piccolo storage.
My rage wasn’t helped by the vast quantities of alcohol I consumed that night. It took three bus journeys all on the same route to get home because I kept having to get off thinking I’d be sick. The night was brightened by meeting synesthesiac, she’s lovely. So so so so so so nice.
Went to the pleasure unit on Friday night to see dustins bar mitzvah for the 98th time. In support were The Sons, who came on at 9 and by 9:01 had inspired such boredom that we took to tearing up fliers to play scrabble with the letters on them. King Mob were next up and a little better, a well dressed lead singer helping things somewhat. They sounded like Kings Of Leon and had really huge lungs.
Dustins were as hilarious as ever. I love them. Their bass player could barely stand and kept collapsing onto the floor. Dave kept up his showman antics, he’s soon to take over from Robbie Willliams for being the man that middle aged women describe as being “such an good all round entertainer”. To break the silence in their ever present and ever pointless mid set guitar tune he had us guessing the amount of different species of penguin. Though one mans guesses of orange and beans were well thought out, there are apparently 17, I expected more, but I’ve googled it and he’s right.
There are no penguins in London but there is snow. A whole 30 seconds of it. It didn’t settle and I am not snowed in. I’m keeping my hopes up though.
In giant news, Popstar Feets is to be become a column in a magazine. I got approached by Toaster magazine to write a quarterly feature in the same style as my site. The magazines a new music one, based in Glasgow but available throughout the UK to the tune of 35,000 copies. I’m very excited. The coffee table Popstar Feets book is looking more and more imminent.
Ta-ra for now, I’m going to go and sew a Tomlinson voodoo doll and feed it to some pigeons.