The Green Mile: An excellent gig on Saturday evening with Voodoo Vegas and UK Guns 'n' Roses. 45 minutes of Sunday was spent writing up the gig for Kyps' website, much of the remainder, proof reading.
There was a Link on a site I can't even remember now, to an agency who, (yes, we've heard it all before), didn't ask for any money, but just make it (for the writer) by selling their story and getting it published. So I'm giving it a try out of pure cussedness to find out if they keep their word? So I brushed up a past story just in case I'm 'lucky enough' to be asked to send one. It may not get that far, the agency was in America and might not like my decidedly British characters and locations, but if so, I can't see why - we enjoy Stephen King's, John Grisham's, etc, etc stories set in the States; so why not vice-versa?
Much as I love my grandchildren, their TV programmes have become as miserable to watch as everything else. There are only so many times Mr. Tumble can raise a smile from a 58 years old despite his skills at entertaining and deaf-signing, so I tuck myself in here reading or writing. (In a few weeks, the lawnmower will take up the time!)
Evening viewing was as dire as ever, so again, out of pure cussedness, I gave 'Fat Families' a try. Much as I disagree with such programmes as I cannot see why television should show other people's abject stupidity as a way of teaching them a lesson, or pointing out that yes, they eat too much or spend too much money; but it was about all there was on offer. With 'Beat The Bailiff' and 'The Bank of Mum & Dad,' (know all about that one), highlighting the perils of the credit card, (we've all been there, too, fortuntely ours is now past tense), but is it good television?
'Fat Familes' was amusing. The 3 kids enjoyed the fast foods as much as Mum and Dad, but... After a breakfast of toast and cereals, Dad took the kids to school, and bought a McDonald's on the way home. He and the wife ate that, and it wasn't just a small portion. Can't remember what went on at lunchtime, but dinner with the 3 kids was about £40 worth of Indian takeaway. Then, when the kids were in bed, Dad drove the 1 minute journey to the petrol station, (a 10 minute walk which would have done him good), to buy crisps and chocolate bars to eat watching TV.
There was a news item about the 170kg man who ate 24 packets of crisps for elevenses, well, this chap ate 16 packets. They showed him the bottles of fat he ate in a year with that amount of crisps per day, and it shocked him / everyone. So much for the humble crisp, but they are the most expensive way of buying potatoes; bar none.
But with so many channels film makers have to make films about something, and for some strange reason, as mentioned before, Discovery Shed is kind of interesting. Shed's are great things, I have always had one, and it's far more pleasant watching a couple of blokes handy with tools repair/build a shed than someone who's eaten too much losing weight, or those who spanked the credit card get financially straight. They have themselves to blame, shed's are blameless.
So, at about 9 'o' clock I started watching The Green Mile. Why? Well, it's a damned good film, that's why. But there's a copy on the DVD shelf you could have watched. But you don't, do you. It just sits there year after year and we watch it again when it's shown on the TV.
Human beings, eh, what are we like?

The Sandstorms: Those of you who enjoyed my 'Bournemouth Rocks!' book may also like an 84 page A5 book by Roger Downton. Roger was lead guitarist with Bournemouth band The Sandstorms in the 50's and 60's, and this is a knockout memoir of those times.

'This book reveals the real buzzy life of a south coast rock band of the Duane Eddy, Chuck Berry, Rolling Stones, Beatles era. It's a brilliant study of the aspirations of a group of young, eager teenagers who, with stars in their youthful eyes, and bags of drive, for a while, succeed to bring their burning ambitions of being a working rock group to fruition. The Sandstorms' book stirs many memories of those 'fab' times, and for those who weren't around, or are simply curious, it fills in the mystery of what it was like to be in a local band back then. It had to be written, and now it has.'

There are loads of photos and press clippings, and the Foreward is by Duane Eddy. £5-95 + postage.
www.thesandstorms.co.uk

The Head Cat: have added another date to their short run of them on February 18th at The Belly Up Tavern at Solana Beach, California.
The band are recording their 2nd album over the four days February 2nd to 5th.

The new Motorhead album hasn't been started as yet, reports say this may now happen during March or April.

There are one or two of my old crime novels, 'AfterShock' being one, on Amazon as ex-library paperbacks from a source in France. Odd or what.

Another Step Towards Stepford: Loads of figures were released yesterday detailing how many people have stopped or started smoking over the past 12 months. They even gave a (speculated?) figure for the number of youngsters who have taken it up. Where do these figures come from? School kids aren't going to fill in a survey form admitting they started smoking, so how do they know?

The cigarette vending machine has also been outlawed. They once hung proudly on the walls of every pub, working men's club, Labour club, Conservative club, Liberal club etc; and although a packet cost way over the odds; any port in a storm was better than no port at all.

They are also on about making the cigarette packets unattractive, printing them, regardless if they are B & H, Marlboro or whatever; a light blue or grey colour; which is a bit like all the girls in a Red Light district wearing black bin-bags.

The answer to the smoking problem is to bring back the packaging they outlawed 10 or 15 years ago. A black packet with an embossed skull and crossbones on it; brand name DEATH - and a similar packet in white, (the 'Lights' version), with the brand name SLOW DEATH.
Then everyone knows exactly what they are buying, and there would be no need for the silly photos of cancerous lungs because those cigarette packets don't f*** about.

ITV4 Darts: Paul Nicholson beat Mervyn King 13-11 in the final last evening. It had been close with Taylor Beating Phil Jenkins 8-7 when both players were down to the deciding double. Much the same happened with the Taylor Nicholson match, with Nicholson winning 8-7.
Phil Taylor has enjoyed a magnificent career and achieved more accolades than any other sports person. But it was becoming somewhat boring when he won anything and everything. I bet the bookies are rubbing their hands today.
Congratulations to 'Bad Boy' Paul 'the acid' Nicholson, I always liked his image even though the crowd tended to take it too seriously. It had to come, new and younger players are hungrier for the glory, and the out-shots Nicholson was shooting were magnificent.

Mervyn King's 'walk-on' theme is Motorhead's 'King Of Kings' which was originally a Triple-H walk-on theme, but it suits the darts world just as well.

There are 6 Summer Festival dates noted on www.imotorhead.com - more to follow.

The Head Cat: are going into the studios today to record their second album. Motorhead are also due to begin recording, or at least rehearsing for theirs about now, too. A busy time for Lemmy.

My shot at getting my latest fiction, When The Clouds Have Passed, published; ground to a halt when it was returned yesterday. The publisher asked for manuscripts on their website, but the returning letter said 'we don't take unsolicited manuscripts, we usually commission stories.' If the website agreed it could have saved time and postage.

The 'Eartha Kitts' Were No Fun: Several wards were closed recently at Poole Hospital with a D & V bug but whether Mrs. B brought it home? It wasn't pleasant by any stretch, but then they're not supposed to be, are they.
It seems to be trendy today in trying to apportion blame for bugs and colds and suchlike, and whilst I am not scrupulously clean, (is anyone 100%?), the petrol pump is my worst enemy. Whilst they provide plastic gloves they're a pig to get out of the thing they're housed in, and worse to try and get on. So the paper towel is a favourite in avoiding all sorts of dreaded lurgi whilst filling the petrol tank.
Door handles are also a known favourite for germ carrying, but how else can we get in or out of wherever? A lot of bugs are airborne, too, and whatever we do during a lifetime we're bound to pick up a few along the way. If we didn't, we wouldn't be human; and I'm just grateful; if indeed there is anything to be grateful about, that I only suffered the D but not the V.