Help.

Simon Dowd

Anyone who doubts Evolution. Do you not think that God, left clues, dinosaurs, batteries in the old world, cave paintings and so on. She made it kind of obvious. Sorry, my mistake. You don't think. As you were, see you at the Rapture.

Well

Some worry when they lose track of days. Amateurs. I can do it for months at a time.

Lightbulb.

You can run the tracks in London as hard as you like. Do whatever you want. end up in clubs where you are not surevwhere you are, having a great time. In the back of my mind i always knew there was a way to get home, somehow. Worry about it later, lets go dancing!

Putting up Block Rockin Beats first on Resolution this morning reminded me of all of it. The memory of being in THe Heavanly Scoial, which we nearly didn't get into at all, some bloke fell flat on his face in front of the bouncers, I picked him up, and they told me they "Wereen't letting you tripped out cunts in!" "Easy." I said, "Never fucking met him before." In we went.

The Chemical Brother's were Djing, everyone was on poppers. The air smelled liked paint thinner. I danced with Annie Nightingale, an old school Radio One DJ. Someone I know persuaded a girl dressed in a nurses uniform to blow him in the mixed restrooms for an E.

The evening got more and more fucked as we went along. Last song came up 3am I think. Light went off in my head. "How the fuck are we going to get out of here?" Outside the club, vainly looking for a black cab, when we knew we were going to end up getting an illegal gypsy cab, driven by someone more tripped out than we were. This is how we ran all the time. It was the greatest laugh, if a lot dangerous. I remember being in a club, Strawberry Alarm Clock in central London, when my old flat mate asked me, "Where am I Si?" I told him where we were. He looked at me dead serious. "No Si, where am I in the universe?" Time to go home.

Princess Diana tribute - 2

Right. Living in Hampstead, the snotty hooker next door, rumbled by the Evening Standard. Got my food, cab back from Waterloo.

I took a cab to Waterloo once, where a dispatch rider spat through the window at the cab driver, after the cabbie cut him up on the roundabout. The cabbie's response? Drove him off the road, jumped out the cab, stood over the prone cyclist, explaining to him what a dead cunt he truly was. Wiped the spit on the now terrified cyclists jersey, and hopped back in the cab.

"Sorry about that mate. Waterloo, right?"

"Yeah, thanks," I mumbled looking back through the window to check the cyclist was still moving.

"I hate cunts like that," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, towards the scene of battle won.

"Yeah," I said. This was in the afternoon, broad daylight. It did seem to have got darker...

So, I was in my front room with my Burger King, chilling out from the gig. Wacthing WWE, always nice to see someone pitching while you are relaxing.

For some reason I turned on BBC 2. This was in the days before the 24 hour news cycle, they'd sent out someone to rport on Diana. Whoever it was looked terrified, I think it may have been the continuity annoucer. They had just started using the news crawl, so while he stumbled the report out as best he could, he was in direct competition with the crawl running beneath him.

He said, "We have news that Princess Diana has been badly injured."

The crawl read - Princess Diana Dead.

That's pretty badly injured I thought.

Princess Diana tribute.

The day Diana died I'd been out gigging. Got home with whatever food I could cobble together at 2am, and sat down to chill out. When I gigged Screaming Blue every Friday for a year or so, I would get the train from Wimbledon to Paddington, cop some Burger King, then join the queue of the pissed and puzzled to get a cab home.

"why didn't you gt a tube?"

Fuck off, Tubes late night on a Friday are populated by very drunk people, some of whom are the drunken bastards who poulate the night buses, who have got up too early. If you ever want to know what London truly is, pick up a night bus from King's Cross at 3am. Harry Potter, it is not

. King's Cross has come up quite a bit. When I used to get the night bus from there, you had to stay in the light of the bus stop. The further you went into the dark beyond, the lower your chance of getting out of there in one piece became.

King's Cross also has/had a kebab shop with a lemon special, which was a lemon and some hot water, to sterilize your needle. When Neil and I got kicked out of our flat:the owners came back, I was in my bathrobe, it was 2pm, went quite badly, as I remember, the people we rented from put us in tower block in King's Cross. We'd been there two days. Neil came running from an alley. "Dowdy, we have to move, right fucking now!" He'd seen someone slumped in the alley with a needle hanging out of his arm, blood pooling around the entry point. My diabetic? argument was deirded as total shite! We moved out pretty quickly.

Ended up on Netherhall Gardens in Hampstead. sounds flash, we were the poor cousins on the row. The women next door was particularly snotty, until the day the story came out in the Evening Standard about her. She was a high clas hooker, who ripped off a customer for two million plus. The story had details about paddling pools filled with mud and other women. I happened to walk past her carrying the paper. She was super nice once that story came out.

Victor Meldrew used to live on our road. You see, its ours now, fuck you scrubber! Chill out. Lovely bloke, used to wash his Merc outside his flat every Sunday. Big fan of Neil's as I remember.

I've got nowhere near the Diana story. I need breakfast and more coffee to tell it. See this as a Dickensian instalement of London life.

 ·  · Share · Delete

Yes, that did actually happen.

I've decided to write a series of stories called Yes, that did actually happen. If I tell you a story about me is true, it is. For example, I am a second level attuned Reiki healer.

I was knocked down by a London Double Decker bus on Southampton Row, whilst I was trashed. My friend Eileen was on the other side of the road, and thought she just seen me get killed. I did blow my insurance claim by telling the first cop that turned up, "Don't blame the driver, this one's down to me. I am fucking pissed."

I did get stitched up at the hospital, then take Eileen and the guy who was with her for a kebab. I did turn up to my first date with Beth with a black eye that went from my right eye to my left ankle. I still don't remember exactly what happened, outside of the feeling that I got hit with a house.

Bless.

America declared war on the letter U along time ago. Valour, colour, humour, etc... Just so you know, our understanding of why U should be in there, is why you like our accent so much.

Hmph....

Any singer that uses auto tune, isn't one.  Enrique Iglesias, hang your head in shame. Though the tone deaf people watching your poor pitch on the Today show had a good time.

Just don't.

Obama took out birther cunter Donald Trump in a very pro comic way, knowing his order for killing Bin Laden was about to go through.Fuck with this guy on military nerve, never.

Open Mic

 A newsreader on MSNBC just reported on how Abercrombie and Fitch have offered the cast of the Jersey Shore money, to not wear their clothes, ethnically a win-win. The camera pulled away, and she said, "Crappy clothes anyway." I know you are in the shit, but my respect for you just went up 1000%

12 minutes ago · Privacy: · 

Baclofen

Today, I've taken 3 Baclofen, an anti spasming drug. I've taken one every day for the past couple of years. Usually I only need one. Today, the chill which sweeps my shoulder, just ahead of an attack is sitting like a curious snake, figuring out whether to strike or not. I think not.

Helicopter Fund.

Everyone should have a helicopter fund. Its the money you keep for yourself quietly, in case everything goes tits up, and you need an escape route. Its not a reflection on those you love, its commonsense.

Doesn't have to be a lot, bus fare will do.

I call it a helicopter fund because someone I knew years ago, actually had one. I don't think he ever got a helicopter.

Daze

You would think the weather backing off, would work a lot better with MS. What actually happens, is the rapid temperature change knocks you out, and you wake up tripped out of your mind, trying to grab the reins, as your thoughts swan dive over the cliff. Cheaper than Percocet.

Travel

I love boutique hotels, where they elevate staying somewhere to art. For the same reason, I love B and B's and cheap, shabby motels. They run true to themselves, and all get my vote. As long as the equity line doesn't sulk too much? Places like the Soho Hotel will my first choice. But, Motel 6's have a certain,"We could die here, you know," charm, all of their own.

Privacy:

Columbus

North Market Farmer's Market, load up on top local food, shrimp and Jenis, onto pistachio verra, breakfast croissants and ice coffee. All HailColumbus is missing, is a train, fire Kasich immediately, and a coastline, and I'd never move.

Performing.

In performing, it takes ego and will to get there, followed by the understanding that the only way it truly works, is when you play for the others you are with. If everyone does that, and the trust level is there? Can't be beat.

Oh.

A couple of nights ago, Stephen Colbert interviewed a guy who has written book in which he says All the best presidents America has ever had, where afflicted by manic depression. He said they were so good, because their minds ran so fast, linking up ideas that so one else was seeing. The cost was high, but the ideas were great. I watched it, and thought, ":That seems awfully familiar."

Movement

There are times when you know you are going to do something. When I first left the hospital, having been diagnosed with MS, jacked up on steroids, I limped back into the flat I was sharing with Neil. The first thing I did was get a credit card, which was unusual at the time. Neil said to me, "Why did you get that Dowdy?" I said, "Because one day. you will turn around, and I'll be gone." I knew I was leaving, I've never felt more certain of anything. I didn't know how, or when, or why, but I knew it would happen.
Then Beth and I fell in love, and the question of where we would live came up. I didn't hesitate, America.
I thought we would live in Chicago, that's where Beth had been for a few years. A place at Ohio State came up, which is why we are here. I knew nothing about Ohio, didn't know where it was. All I cared about was whether there was a Chinese in town. Didn't even know Columbus was a city, never mind the capital. Didn't care. Had no idea what I was going to do, just knew I wanted to be with Beth, wanted out of England, and jumped ship.
Its worked put really well. I love Columbus, have made very close friends, and done things I didn't dream I could do. Shakespeare for example.
Over the past few years Beth and I have gone back and forth about jumping ship again, and leaving Columbus. Its proved to be very difficult. You lot have a cool city full of great people, which costs buttons compared to the other options.
So, I don't know. If you had asked me last year, we were leaving. Right now, very happy where we are thanks. Who knows...?

Amen

Since religions don't have to disclose how they spend their money, and don't pay any tax, what about setting up The Church of Perpetual Act? I will have to get a shit suit and a bad tan. And a helicopter......

Lucky

I'm lucky, my addiction is music and words. If it'd been drugs, I'd have been dead long ago, If yours is drugs? Be careful. don't hurt anyone else, and watch out for the vultures. Not in the dictionaries, but, they are all over the universities....

Me.

In an alternative universe, there is another version of me, perfectly happy, normal job, and very healthy. Good luck to him. I like my version just fine, thanks.

My take

Those who can do. Those with the money who can't, fuck it up for those who can.