Lazyhead and Sleepybones
I sooooo know that no-one reading this will know who produced a song with this title - without, of course, doing a search on Google or some such like internetty webby thing. Unless, of course, you have kid(s) ...
Anyway, I digress, I've thoroughly enjoyed myself over the last two weeks or so. I wouldn't say that I've drunk myself into oblivion, but I would say that oblivion is a wonderful place to visit - or so people tell me.
My previous fuck up, of which I am not yet willing to make public, has now gone down in the ever-growing chapters of the yet to be written "Isn't Reidski an idiot" book of hilarious piss-takes, rather than what I had feared was going to be "Isn't Reidski an alcoholic out of work idiot" book of Charles Bukowski-like vignettes of my life, a la Post Office.
The boy's team are going from strength to strength - a fifth win on the trot to put them top of the league. Mind you, there are a couple of teams below them who may yet overtake them if they win their games in hand, but, nonetheless, its points that count and the boys team are up there.
Talking of footie...weren't Celtic incredibilly bad last night. I hope it is on record elsewhere that I had been saying that we were in for a right bad defeat, so to be in at half time all square I thought was a minor miracle. That we took the lead was mental. And that those bad bad neonazi nasty folk from Govan could only score two against that awful defence was equally as mental. Best team won - no question! When I put my opinion to another Jock Celtic-supporting exile this morning he looked at me as if I had just declared my undying love for our monarchy and support for the fascistic assault on the Iraqi people. I've always hated that arrogance of our lot. While I'm on the subject, twice I've been called a - apologies for the sensitive among you - "blue nosed cunt" by Celtic fans in New Cross pubs. First was back in the early 90s when we played Hibs in a Scottish Cup (or was it League Cup) semi-final and some (weedgie) tosser came into the pub declaring: "Ah don't ken who ah wahnt tae win this yin cos they're baith catholics." The Reidski said something along the lines of while they both may have Irish traditions that this doesn't mean they have particular religious leanings now and that, while the huns hate catholics, this doesn't mean that we are all catholics - that, in fact, both Celtic and Hibs are not mono-religious team but are for anyone, everyone and, in my case, those with no religion whatsoever..
"Where are you fae?" was the question to what was admittedly a rather long response to his bollocks introduction.
"Irvine" was my answer and hence "blue nosed cunt" remark followed, for some reason.
The other occasion that this genital insult was hurled at the my direction in another of my locals was during the infamous Huns winning the league at Celtic Park game when Hugh Dallas - a great ref in my opinion - was left bloodied and bruised. Vider Riseth (or am I getting him mixed up with someone else?) flew in for a tackle and nearly broke someone'e legs (Ricksen?) got sent off, quite rightly, and Celtic then lost their collective heads and bottles. Violence ensued on and off the pitch. I had the audacity to say: "Even if we win this, they'll dock the points off us and Rangers'll still win the league."
"Whit dae yae mean" says (weedgie, of course) bloke watching on same table.
I then say something about how stupid it is that people take football - which is and always has been part of the entertainment industry - seriously.
"It's only a game," says the Reidski.
"It's only a game?" asks (weedgie - now about to be weedgie nutter) bloke.
"Aye, ah game." says the Reidski.
"Will it be a game if ah pit this boatle in yer face then?" asks bloke.
Reidski keeps quiet, until the inevitable question turns up.
"Whair ur ye fae?" he asks.
"Irvine."
I think you know the rest.....
Back to now.
Payday today and the Reidski thought he was going to have company to go out on the town, watch Coffee and Cigarettes and have a few beers. That didn't happen, but what did happen was good anyway. Walked down Tottenham Court Road, got a haircut, had a couple of beers, then went to record shop and got the following CDs:
Trashcan Sinatras - Weightlifting (have been meaning to get it for some weeks now)
Zutons - Who killed the...
The Futureheads - Futureheads
Neil Young - Rust Never Sleeps
Joe Strummer - Rock Art and the X-ray Style
Wilco - AM
Pixies - Bossanova (Why i don't have this in my collection I don't know)
Tom Waites - Heartattack and Vine
The latter five were a buy five for £30 quid job - but the overall £60 for the lot was money sooooo well spent.
Am currently working my way through a very lovely Australian Semillon Sauvignon blanc while listening to the Trashies. What a lovely evening!
Read this, it's funny!
posted by Reidski @ 10:20 pm
8 Comments:
Yo mean you too are a member of the tmbg mailing list?
You have far too much disposable income young man, £60 on CDs and that's after a haircut and a few pints! Anyways welcome back.
The apprentice (at work) was rather miffed for most of yestterday.
Okay, so you get that one, but I note that you haven't made an attempt at many others recently!
Nice post - looking forward to the eventual publication of the McBukowski Memoirs on your blog.
"Walked down Tottenham Court Road, got a haircut, . . ."
Would that be the 'Get Your Haircut for £5' place on Tottenham Court Road? (I understand they have a special £7.50 offer, where the management guarantee that if you enter their premises with two ears, you will leave the premises with two ears.)
OK - I admit you called the game on Wednesday right, though I don't know if this is a blip or where it leaves O'Neill, Robertson and Walford. If the recent bad form is indicative of a deeper malaise within the squad, then I wonder if it can be turned around in time before they leave the club.
I know it's just speculation on my part, but it already looks like Man Utd don't have a sniff of winning the premiership this year and that makes it increasingly likely that Ferguson may be moved sideways/upstairs/into the MUTV studio permanently/out to pasture with his old racehorses (delete as appropriate) at the end of the season. O'Neill is a shoe in for the job - I can't see him going anywhere else.
I'm off down the bookies to put fifty pence on David Moyes being the next manager of Celtic.
Tottenham Court Road, down the Warrent Street end, Mr Toppers, £6 haircut - unfortunately, the Reidski now only has one ear.
On the Martin O'Neil front, I'm with you all the way on that one. The fact that he's had no money to spend for the last two or three years must mean that he's on his way at the season's end. And, with Liverpool now with new manager who will definitely be there until his contract ends, there is only one destination for Martin and his backroom boys. As for Moyes, well, maybe you wrote that comment before the news that he has signed a new contract with Everton until 2009. And, with the abuse some of our lot used to give him when he played at Celtic Park, I don't think we'll ever see him back at Paradise ever again!
Hello Reidski,
aye I wrote the post before reading about Moyes signing the five years contract at Goodison. Oops.
By the way, no finders fee for my passing on your blog address to another Trashcan Sinatras fan - you happy few need to huddle together for the extra warmth in such an uncaring world ;-)
I've got to be honest - I was never into the 'Sinatras but I'll check them out again. I always loved their cover version of 'To Sir With Love' but had a real problem with them covering 'I Know It's Over'.
But what the hell do I know, I liked the first couple of Hue and Cry singles.
Trashcans were always big Smiths fans. I remember them doing a number of covers, very early days, in the Volunteer Rooms, Irvine. I may be wrong, but I'm sure it was John, Frank, Paul Douglas and Paul Forde - Brill versions of Jeanne and Hand in Glove.
...and Forde is still living off of the story that he wrote all the best songs on cake. You'll find him in the Father Jack chair of the Kings in Irvine.
And he drinks heavy.
But is he still going on about how no-one gave the music club enough support? That was always my favourite boring conversation with Paul. Apart from that, I did quite like him....but he could go on, couldn't he?
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