My friend Toby told me of a dream he had where he was suddenly back in the computer shop in which he used to work but his name was Bob and he was turning the shop into a restaurant whose speciality was to be three metre long stewed eels and this was ‘London’s best kept secret’, although the critics did not agree.
The point of this letter is to demonstrate that, for all your idiosyncrasies, you still possess a stronger grip on the real world than some of my human friends.
Love from Crispin
P.S. I hope you at least dream about catching mice.
Right oh so >> i got all jealous about everyone in the world being on Guardian Soulmates (popular UK Internet dating) just before crispmas so i did myself a profile - I was on it before a few years back but that didn't go down very well. I kept sending girls werido messages about shoes and ghosts when i was really pissed and no-one wanted to talk to me apart from one girl who was into tantric sex and wanked off horses for a living (100% TRUE FACT). In the end i had to get a date off match dot com by a girl who lied to me about her name and where she lived and was generally obtuse and hostile the whole time (although she was well fit)... we had a conversation that went like this >
me: right i think i might be off
me: well i think we are stuggling to find some common ground
her: who is stuggeling? I'm not struggling
me: well I fucking am
tehn she insisted on buying another round and her being a bit nicer and me being a bit drunker lead to some sexeh tiem, so not a total disaster in the end.
blah blah blah this is not the story > the story is that i decided to put up the truth on my soulmates profile because everyone likes music and traveling and every fucker is fun loving and amiable in the mirror - so this is what i wrote:
Why should people get to know you?
...well in truth you probably shouldn't, I drink too much too often and routinely say things I don't mean just to provoke a reaction. I tell absurd lies constantly, though this is more a want than a compulsion. I can be lewd, brash, flippant, scathing, boring and cynical, I am always 10 minutes late for absolutely everything and I am a terrible show off - also, on Saturday, I told my niece I was texting Father Christmas about how naughty she was and then i pretended to throw her in a wheelie bin and she puked sweets out of her nose.
I am on this thing because I am nosey and vain, not because I am looking for a wife. Also I already went on a weird internet date a couple of years back so I pretty much have this whole thing ticked it off my life goals to do list.
Merry Christmas x
...i had 5 fans the next day so i hid the profile in panic haha I am such a pussy - still, looks like these guardian readers are literally fizzing at the bunghole for a bit of blunt honesty...
Joining us in our amazing lives this week is Jim Fleeting > we gasbagging all about X Factor, Dynamite SEX, Drugs and birthdays > ALSO > Cheryl FIGHTS for marriage as we reveal what the three little words are on the front of her Album > Amy Whineclaart's NEW BIG TITS > DAN-YLE starting on the Essex (god help him) > Fatterly Cassidy Happily Snackerly > REAL ACTUAL celeb story from Jim about Ulrika Johnson > YOU are the disablist one NOT ME > AND > Drugs ATE someone's face (don't worry they not famous person)...
I remembered to cue up a song this week as well - playing out w 'Animal Lover' by Hemme Fatale > only 30 seconds tho or the PRS motherfuckers will be on our case.
OH OH OH > here is the picture of Jordan's street wee puddle of piss that I refer to about 10 minutes in:
...and here is what is on at the Red Rose Comedy club this week:
DAVE THOMPSON, PAUL KERENSA, YIANNI AGISILAOU, mc: Mike O'Donovan
TTFN you beautiful, beautiful bastards x x x
Download > The Crescent - Episode 33 (mp3)
Weekly celebrity gossip podcast - The Crescent
so, a couple of weeks back i had a looksy at my blog > it's shit. It's the plumbers tap what always drips ~ I'm (by all accounts) a 'web professional' so it is daft that my personal blog should be a such a limp cock, it's rubbish, it's the worst blog ever, it's full of links to god knows what, bollocky, irrelevant secondary content, voting buttons and little adverts for blog directories that i signed up to in some vain and vain attempt to drive people to read my shit by following some tosser's 10 things to do to get your blog noticed. It's got stupid widgets that make people's browsers hang and crash and it's still run on Drupal 5, eighteen months after the upgrade was released.
Pumped after inspiration from think visibility > and reading this post from Tom Smith's the other blog, coupled with the shock of over a hundred visitors in one day (oh em gee) instead of the usual eight or so, I set to it. Tom asked himself what makes a good blog >
Well that's me fucked then > So then i did some extensive research on the first result on page 1 of google search for 'what makes a great blog' and started reading this post but it was about writing and engaging with the audience and i got bored and went and did something else for a bit.
Then i thought fuck it > Sink the Rock is just a collection of shit, a record of stuff, it doesn't sell anything or even need to be read. It's mine, it's my journal, it's my record, it's my football and I'm going home.
So I re-un-designed it > I upgraded it to Drupal 6 (at last), got rid of all the voting and ranking bullshit and widgets and extra shite popped in a vanity block for most read content and bob's yer pervy uncle this is what is left.
ah sure would 'preciate some comments from y'all... > too stark? - anything i should add? or take away?
hello blog, I am writing to you as there is absolutely fuck all else to do.
This morning I have got up very early to go to 'boot camp' with Wicker - this is a very fashionable thing to do, I have read about it in gossip magazines. By all accounts it is running and jumping around Highbury Fields at 6:20 in the morning with a few like minded fashionable girls being chased and shouted at by one really tough woman, I imagine it's a lot like the end of a Benny Hill episode and a little bit like the beginning of Full Metal Jacket.
howevs > after I have rolled my sorry self out of bed at ten to cocking six in the morning (Janit is well confused - she thinks i must be going on holiday or something), had a little bird bath, put clothes on and generally woken my self right up - the shouty lady in charge sends wicker a text to say there is no boot camp this morning because it is raining (fyi it is not raining in Stoke Newington so I very much fucking doubt it is raining in Highbury Fields - well it is raining a little bit but it's not really raining - in my opinion it's not raining unless you can hear that it is raining).
So here I find myself: wide awake and pottering around the house at 6:30 in the morning... I don't have to leave for work for three hours so just what the fuck am i supposed to do? > ... I have ended up trying to do everything really slowly and carefully to waste time - like separating tea bags before putting them in the caddy, actually watching the tea brew, opening the scots porridge oats properly like the instructions say instead of just rippin it open to confirm that it does not 'easily close again' if you do it like what it says (managing to stop myself from getting a stanley blade 'to really do it properly' OH EM GEE > OH SEE DEE) and then write a blog about it.
welcome to my amazing life
web player > www.CelebrityGossipPodcast.com
Wicker is going to HELL > I am not bcs I am just a hitch hiker > Angelina with some new old hat *SIGH* > Corpse Bride from girls aloud dressed up like TwoFace from Batman > Posh is having her feet cut off > Brad's fat brother > Cheryl Cole is scared of Psychics > 3 seats on the plane but that means 3 dinners NOM NOM and thrice NOM > some attention hungry people on the problem pages > a DYNAMITE SEX TIP > AND > SOME PEOPLE sent me messages on twitter WOW @chimpdonk.
Playing out with 'Stage Shoes' by Fever Fever. If you are quick you can catch them playing in Brixton tonight TheRestIsNoise 442 Brixton Road London SW9 8EJ > http://music.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=music.showDetails&friendid...
We cant go though because THAT is south of the river ~ and we are going to BRAIN DRAIN at the Old Blue Last > Blue On Blue (live) / Dignan Porch (live) - FREE ENTRY!!
TEA Mr.Shifter? light refreshment?
Contact the show? - barely anyone does so if you do you are bound to be on it > tag tweets with #celebz / message @wickerwoo @chimpdonk or drop us a comment on MySpace OR email us > email@example.com or firstname.lastname@example.org
The Crescent - www.CelebrityGossipPodcast.com
Wicker and I have decided that it would be a good idea not to get 'Loser Drunk' so often. we decided this over breakfast the other day, this was after we both awoke up side down on Tom's sofa at 6 that morning - a sofa that is literally less than 100 meters from my flat. Obviously we are not giving up being loser drunk ever, that would be ridiculous, but we will try to bring it down to an acceptable level like once a week. Well, at first, you know - one step at a time Martin - with a view to reducing this to once a month over the course of teh year.
We established the following as FAIL criteria for 'Loser Drunk':
- If we wake up next to each other
- If you wake up:
- not at home but near to home
- on the sofa
- on the floor
- in your clothes
- in prison
- somewhere weird
- Any holes in clothes - specifically tights
- Evidence of cooking in the kitchen - or suggestions of weird snack consumption e.g. an explosion of the wrappers of a whole pack of seafood sticks all over the kitchen
- Self sustained injury - such as a grazed knee or weird bruises
- Any pen on your face or anything written on you that is not a phone number of someone whose face you can describe
- Evidence of Dixy - or any fast food for that matter but the slightest whiff of Dixy Chicken renders the purchaser an instant LOSER
- Repitition of full conversation - from the previous night if less than three lines are repeated the first person to realise is not a loser if the conversation goes as far as four lines we both, are LOSERS
- Memory Blank - that has not returned within two hours of being awake
- Falling out of a window - e.g. Wicker out of the Hogg's Head on Chrismas Eve
- Inappropiate sexy intercourse - e.g. friend or colleague
- Excess money on your person - >£10 in coins OR > £200 folding currency
- Being sick anywhere
- Falling asleep on public transport
- If you didn't realise you were being a dick until someone told you to stop being a dick
- You couldn't stop yourself being a dick and had to ask someone to stop you being a dick
- If someone told you to:
- stop shouting
- go home
- If someone tells you you smell of booze the next day
- If you heard people plotting to take you home
So i went to Leeds on Saturday to go to this web conference - it were well good > thanks @Thehodge and http://www.thinkvisibility.com/ met interesting people, learnt stuff, ate pizza, drank beer > tick tick tick and tick ~ what's the story?
This is the story:
Woke up at half five still pissed up from the night before, rolled out the door forgetting to fill my pockets with bidnis cards or eat or drink anything and cycled off to Kings x where i was greeted by a toad dressed up as a ticket guard who wouldn't let me get on the train until i went and got a special ticket for my bike instead of a coffee > as if to prove what an evil bitch he was he didn't even check the ticket when i got back.
I tried to have a little kip on the train but there were these two posh kids telling each other about their amazing university lives really loud sat on the table across - one of them actually said: 'it reminds me of that time you rinsed out your fathers credit card at the golf club' and that began to roll around in my head like a wasp in the bedroom. They eventually fucked off though and i made it to Leeds with no further bother and 40 winks squeezed in.
I like Leeds, it's a bit cleaner than London and there is a bit more air in between things - also if you follow a sign it points to the thing it says it does - instead of leading a merry dance around the thing.
I have little interest in SEO (view my sauce) but Joost de Valk and Judith Lewis gave such good talks (and Judith chocklits) that I accidentally learned some interesting stuff, things that i will doubtless never put into practice on this blog but was interesting and well recieved none the less > Joost had a cool voice as well - he could start a sentence with a Dutch accent then go full English for the middle eight and end mid Atlantic but with a sprinkle of the odd word as Northern Irish > he told us *A SECRET* > and I am not telling ANY of you fuckers what it is. I saw some 'mazin demos of eye capture technology and usability studies from a fit lady called Fiona [edit - from Simple Usibility - cheers Dom ] > Tom Smith did a my favourite presentation on 'making social media suck less' with all hand drawn slides and diagrams (style and concepts that i will most likely be stealing in the very near future) AND I did pass up Rob Manuel's talk on sickipedia for a talk on corporate blogging from Karyn Fleeting because i am a fucking professional > that's right.
Most importantly I got to watch @juliansambles from the Telegraph die on his arse telling a room full of seo, very basically why seo was important and give a very boring, self congratulatory to the board style presentation explaining pretty much fuck all about what he did to optimise search results, proudly showing aged hand picked stats about how the Telegraph was AMAZING and sheepishly doing a swifty over his slides about how brilliant digg and voting sites were for seo when Joost had just exposed it as a bollock. HOOT
~ Also he seemed almost incapable of completing a sentence that did not contain the word 'guys' (more often than not preceded by the word 'hey') AND he had pink mum-jeans on with a shirt tucked in and nice school shoes liek a city exec in disguise when there is a soap dodger march on. OH I am being a cunt for fun - he wasn't that bad really > but he did keep talking right to the end so no one could ask him who he thought he was doing a presentation to or if he even knew that the Telegraph had been cained like a bitch by the Mail just because they have better celeb news. HELLOOOO LOVES - P.S. > anyone who thinks i think i can do better should read any previous posts where i have royally fucked up presentations and stood there, on stage, crying, in a puddle of my own piss.
Laters i went and talked about stalkers, fireworks and making unicycles for shaved pets in pizza express with me new twitterbuddies @AlCarlton (who sponsored the event with Conference Calendar) and @DanJHarrison (who makes cakes in difficult shapes).
Then i had to get the 8:15 train back because it was the last one - can you fucking believe that? last train on a Saturday night between 2 major cities is 8:15 -I didn't believe it - I says to the the ticket guy (in my best authoritative London tones) "Now, listen here my good man. I'll have none of your northern cheek, i must return to London later than this or i shall have to do the journey sober ...and none of us want that on our conscience do we?"
He said I could get Stellas on the train.
Gossip is the new black (Black Barbie that is) > Nate Lewin is on the sofa spittin out some proper bitchy shit about > La Roux and her daft Sporticus hair > Jordans fella - Alex Reid = worst tranny EVA > Nicola Roberts as The Corpse Bride > Posh spice ZERO CALORIE FISH AND CHIPS > facebook addict's kid asleeps in a plate of chips *bless* > Danni Minogue's botox *JUSTIFIED* > and SOMEONE needs to have a word with themselves about their top shop dress > Also I done a RAP in the style of Alisha Dixon and I tried to do a link at the end for The Red Rose Comedy Club but i fucked it up a bit so here is a link to thier facebook page:
OI > email us celeb stories and shit > email@example.com
If you believe in life after love - listen to this podcast.
Download > The Crescent - Episode 30 (mp3)
Weekly celebrity gossip podcast - The Crescent
This just in from a chat with nick...
N-D066: last night I had a dream where I turned up to a party and Russell Brand was bumming you
ha ha ha ha ha
N-D066: Its Ok he was trying to bum everyone in the party
Crispin: but i was the only slut
story of my life
N-D066: Hes a bumaholic
No you were the entree
He was bumming other people later on
Crispin: this is doing little for my self esteem issues
N-D066: If it makes you feel any better he had a ridiculously huge cock!
Maybe its a premonition about Glastonbury and your celeb quest
i am only going gay 4 celeb if i get to be the postman
N-D066: With Boots Electric or Baby Duck. I think there is a rainbow pass for those guys that you can sex them up and it isnt gay!
Crispin: hahah rainbow pass
i did an office lol