Crash and burn

So Patrick saves up all his money so to send his boy to a good school so he can learn stuff he never did. Better himself, and not be in a dead end job like his dad.
So eventually he gets his boy into a good school and at the end of the first day he takes his boy aside and asks "What did you learn today boy?"
"Well Da' today I learnt Pi R square."
"That's rubbish." said Patrick "I've wasted all my money. Your teachers know nothing. Everyone knows Pies are round and loaves are square."#

When I was small like most other boys of my age we made airfix models of second world war planes. I made Spitfires, Hurricanes and Lancaster bombers I even made a Junkers JU88. I compared models with my best friend Sean. But it wasn't exciting enough to just build the planes and hang them from the ceiling and let them drift about in the breeze. No we had to do more. So we built an aerial runway for our creations that went from Seans bedroom down to his dads shed at the bottom of the garden. We glued wire hangers on to the tops of the planes so they'd glide down the wire in a dive. We soon bored of that. So Sean decided that if they were going to dive down to earth they'd be much more exciting if they dived down in flames. So in construction we crammed the next plane with cotton wool balls stolen from his big sisters make up bag. On the day the cotton wool was soaked in petrol taken from the Jerry can in the back garden. We leant out of his bedroom window and readied our plane. "Red leader. Red leader. I've been hit. I'm going down."
Sean lit a match and ignited the plane as we sent it down the wire. Spectacular. The Lancaster burst into flames and plummeted towards earth guided by the wire. For less than ten seconds we watched with absolute delight as our creation crashed and burned as befitted a second world war aircraft. Unfortunately it crashed and burned right into Seans dads shed. Setting fire to it. Now allowing for two minutes of utter panic where we didn't know what to do. Then another minute where we ran downstairs to the garden. Followed by a few more minutes or our nine year old minds trying to think what to do, the fire was bigger than either of us. So we did what all nine year olds would sensibly do. Run away. We knew we were powerless to stop the inferno that was enveloping Seans Dads shed. We tried pretending we were playing with Donald (who was totally oblivious to our panic) but the tell tale plumes of smoke rising from Seans back garden kept distracting us.
Donald was saying "I'll be the General and you are my men and we're going to....."
But we didn't we kept looking back to Seans house where by now neighbours were running ab0ut screaming and shouting and fetching buckets of water.
Sean was late home for tea that night. We never heard any more about it other than warnings on local BFBS* broadcasts that in summer everything was tinder dry and we had to be very careful.

*British Forces Broadcasting Service. We got two way family favourites and everything. Even the Clithero Kid.

Rock on dudes

The Dog Cull

It's funny how something inocuous sparks off a distant memory. Today I saw a dog running in and out of the traffic along the road outside my gaff. It was lost and confused. It had a collar so someone owned it. But it made me think of an event many years ago when I was young.
I was nine years old and living in Cyprus on a Sovereign Base Area. R.A.F. Episkopi. Being a nine year old living in the Meditteranean was heaven. I had no worries and every day was a holiday even going to school wasn't a trial because we started school at 7:00am and we were back home by 1:00 in the afternoon. Then it was a run down to the beach and a swim. Bliss.

One week we had a letter sent round to every house warning us that if we owned a dog we had to keep it locked up on a certain day because the Army would be rounding up the strays. I didn't think much of it until the day.
That day it was hot. The air was still and it was like everyone was waiting for something to happen. My friends and I stood in our front garden watching the road waiting. Nothing happened. There were fewer cars than normal it was like a dead Sunday afternoon when you fancied you could hear the sunlight hitting the ground and scorching it. Games were postponed. Treks into the bondoo abandonned. Trips to the beach forgotten. Suddenly we heard a roar and a soft top Landrover sped past, then another. It had started. In the distance we heard the landrovers speeding about the estate. A dog came running down our road persued by a Landrover, the dog didn't have a collar, it was big, light brown and scrawny. The Landrover overtook the dog as it ran past our corner house. A soldier hanging out the back of the landrover took aim and blamm. The dog flew sideways with a sickening yelp. It hit the ground sideways and struggled to get up, it staggered across the main road, howling. The Landrover swung round. The soldiers were shouting and whooping and hollering. The dog stopped by the side of a ditch the other side of the road to my house and the Soldier took aim. I wanted to shout at him to stop but my mouth was dry and nothing came out. He pulled the trigger and like it was being pulled by a bungee rope, the dog flew into the ditch. Another soldier jumped out and into the ditch, grabbed the bloody dog by it's legs dragged it out and swung it into the back of the landrover and they sped off. All was quiet again. The sun was shining and the crickets chirped in the long dry grass outside our house. We looked at each other. Sean said "Hey let's go swimming at the beach."
We laughed. It was better than feeling sick. We ran all the way to the beach and threw ourselves into the Meditteranean sea. We didn't have cozzies. We jumped in fully clothed. We had to wash the sin from our bodies clothes an all. And then it was alright. We laughed we played and thought nothing more about it. Until now.

I wonder what people would think of that if this happened here in England. There's stuff I've seen and experienced that I took for granted back then. This is what happens this is how life is. There was never any mention of political correctness. Things were done because they had to be done. You accepted it. It was part of life. You never questioned it. I remember reading about an asian who was arrested in this country for slitting the throat of a goat over the gutter of a main road in readiness for a feast. To this family that would have been normal. To these people that's normal. It's what you do. But today here and now we don't want to upset anyone. We don't want to offend anyone. We live in a clinically clean society with rules and regulations. I don't condone the dog cull I don't condone the slitting of a goats throat over a gutter on a main road. But I've seen the host of a dinner party I went to, go to the garden of the farm and chose a chicken, wring it's neck and within minutes had it plucked and eviscerated ready for the oven. Then we all sat round a table and ate it along with a fine red wine and good conversation. It seems to me that today eating meat has lost it's meaning. We are presented with polystyrene trays cling film wrapped, full of "meat". Where it comes from we don't care. We don't want to know. It's safe. We haven't participated in the slaughter. The death of the animal means nothing to us now. What we buy is now just a commodity. We haven't experienced the Auschwitz that is the slaughter house. I'm wondering where this is going. I'm not a vegetarian. I don't intend to be. But maybe people should get real and accept that there are realities to life. We aren't all clingfilm and sterile. Animals die so we can eat. We should acknowledge this instead of hiding it. Be honest.

I'm not sure I've articulated this exactly, perhaps you guys can help me out here. Meanwhile


Rock on dudes

King Rollo and a 26 ton bridge section

This is me and Dave at the Thorney by pass works. I was asked to take photographs of the work being done by N Class Fabrication. These guys make seriously heavy steel works. Like bridges.
I went to the photoshoot this morning for the Engineering company. Unfortunately the health and safety officer wouldn't let me do what I wanted. So I had to contend myself with taking boring shots from a distance and not get right in close to where the action was. On top of that it was bleedin' cold.
This is about as close as I was allowed to get to the high lift crane and the 26 ton bridge section. I was gutted. I had a hard hat an everything. Dave from the engineering company was disappointed too. But he was only one person amongst a whole array of engineers from many different companies working on the project. His company didn't get priority according to the health and safety guy. Oh well. But the bridge is amazing. It's been designed by a university student as part of his thesis. It's the first of it's kind in the world. It sits on floating bearings to allow for expansion and contraction. I don't pretend to understand it all. I don't think my photos are going to be of any use to the company. Because of my restrictions the technical details were too far away to do justice to. I'm going to put it down to experience and leave it at that.

Meanwhile contractual obligations had me going to shoot photos for King Rollo on Saturday night. Friends of mine had warned me not to plan to stay the whole evening. "He's boring as shit." was one comment. "you'll be bored witless." This is a little unfair. The guy is brilliant as a blues musician. The only trouble is not everyone likes hard core blues.

So I turned up, shot a load of pics and left before the end of the first set. I've did my duty. Yes he was technically brilliant. But really much as I love the blues I couldn't stay all night. And actually despite my friends opinions. He's an OK guy.

Rock on dudes

Getting old and getting by

I'm getting old. You know when you're getting old when you walk upstairs and when you get to the top of the stairs you've forgotten what you've gone up for. This happened to me today. So I went downstairs again. Sat down at my computer looked around and remembered. So I went upstairs again to fetch something. Another time I was on the phone. I'm always on the phone. I went to our work shop to find the answer to a question. Got waylaid by my assistant manager. Forgot I was on the phone. Then ten minutes later was back in the shop and noticed the phone off the hook.
"Who's on the phone?" I asked. No one knew. So I picked up the phone and said "Hello?"
"You took your time." said a voice.
Oh fuck! Sudden racking of brains trying to remember who was on the phone and why. I talked my way out of it.
Here's another thing that tells me I'm getting old. I always go a particular way when I'm driving to go to see my children. The other day I had to visit a client and found myself ten minutes later on the dual carriage way heading for the childrens house. Instead of the clients place.
Am I getting old or does this happen to everyone?

Del and I were discussing being on stage the other night. Del said you had to have a dual personality to be an artiste. You have your real life personality which is quiet and unassuming but when you're on stage you have to be larger than life. You have to be someone else or it just doesn't work. I find it's the same when I am at work. When customers come into the shop I am not my normal self I am larger than life. On Monday I was in my shop playing guitar for the customers. Taking requests. How wierd is that?

Oh yeah I have a job Sunday. I have a photo shoot for an engineering firm who are building a steel walkway over a bypass. So it's hard hats, High Viz jackets and a camera. My brief is to shoot the photos of their team doing precision work with a high lift crane and a 26 ton bridge section. It's all very industrial and nothing I've ever done before.But it should be a lot of fun. I've just got to flip over to the showman side of my personality. Be confident. Act like I know what I'm doing. It's a bit like being on stage. Confidence is everything. Even when you haven't a fucking clue what you're doing. So wish me luck. I must confess this is not what I expected to be doing. I was hoping more record companies would employ me to take photos of bands. An engineering firm is hardly rock and roll. It's funny how things turn out.

Rock on dudes

Shagging your wifes sister.

Friends I've got to tell you this. My ex wife is so entertaining. She phoned me yesterday to discuss something about the children. I took the opportunity to ask a favour.
"so what do you want?" she asks me.
"I want a new hat."
"Yeah and what's that got to do with me?"
"Well I thought you could ask your sister in Australia to get me a new one and send it over and I'll pay her."
"I don't talk to my sister anymore."
"You don't? Why not?"
"She betrayed me."
"Really?" I was getting interested. "Come on give. Dish the dirt. What did she do?"
"She had an affair."
"Great! Who with? Do I know him? When was this?" I had so many questions to ask. It was intrigueing, her sister, butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, had had an affair."Come on dish the dirt. Tell me everything."
"Don't lie to me. It was with you."
"WHAT? You've got to be joking."
"You can't deny it. She confessed in front of my mother and my sisters and your daughter."
"Confessed what?"
"Confessed that you seduced her and was shagging her in her flat."
"I should have been so lucky."
OK that last response may have been a mistake. I realise this now. To me it was a throw away comment. Meaningless. You don't have to point it out to me. Because... Well hell and damnation were let loose on me down the phone line. Interspersed with other gems of information like I didn't behave in a way condusive with being a brother in law. My behaiviour towards her sister was nothing more than lascivious and inappropriate. I wore her down with my good looks and charm until eventually she relented and we made mad passionate love on the sheepskin rug in front of her gas fire in her flat.
God I wish I'd have been there. It sounds great. But for the life of me I can't remember doing such a thing.

Anyway when I'd stopped laughing my socks off at this and upsetting the ex even more by not taking these accusations seriously. I began to think about it. No don't worry I didn't suddenly have this revelation that in a drunken haze I actually did something with her cute sister. No, I started thinking about what the ex had said.
Her sister had supposedly confessed in front of her mother and their sisters. Why? Why on earth would she want to confess something like that and make herself out to be a cheap tart for shagging her sisters husband? It didn't make sense.
Then when did she allegedly confess this? Because for the last ten years she's been living in Australia and hasn't ever come back? So if she confessed this ten years ago why wasn't it mentioned at the time? We were still five years away from being seperated. A bomb shell like that would have certainly rocked the boat ten years ago.

So I have come to the conclusion she's fishing. My ex that is. She accusing me of stuff in the hope she'll catch me off guard and I'll confess to being unfaithful to her. The truth is I was weak. In the sixteen years we were married I was so weak. I didn't have the courage to be unfaithful.
She even accused me of having an affair with a secretary in the insurance office where I went to to get my car insurance. Now this secretary was in a create-a-job-for-the-unemployable scheme. She had the mind of a six year old and dribbled. She had her own My little pony tableau on her desk. Apparently she told my wife she loved me and I was a great kisser and great in bed. Now that might be absolutely true. But she wouldn't know that. Never will.

So the ex is never going to catch me out no matter how many accusations she throws at me. I was never unfaithful to her. Well not until the last month we were together when I knew I was leaving anyway. But that's another story. I wrote about it in my unfinished novel. I'll give you a clue. Beauvoir sur mer.

Rock on dudes

Unity Rocks

Well I've been really busy recently that and the fact that the 15th of November has hit me so I'm now officially depressed until 15th January with this S.A.D. thing. As it happens I'm only feeling a little down and not my usual sparkling self so it's not so bed so far. Anyway to keep myself busy I've been continueing to take photos and I've created a new blogsite called. Unity rocks

You can find it here at: www.unityrocks.blogspot.com it's also linked on the right. It's nothing much right now except a load of photos I've taken. But I guess Richard will be a contributor as well as Shaggy. But it'll develop over time.

Tonight I've a job taking photos of a band called "Doctor A's blues consortium" it's not exactly a paying job except it is. In return for taking photos I get a web site for my business. It's all about barter and you scratch my back I'll scratch your. It works for me.

I've got an upgrade on my music system. Smashy came round today with the latest version of our music data base. We now have 17,000 tracks on our computers. All mp3 files. I've already given him a few thousand more to add to the next issue. So we'll be over 20,000 by the time we all get together to compare notes. You see I'm a member of a small syndicate. We all pool together our resources and swap music. There's just five of us so it's hardly pirating on a grand scale. Oh well I'd better get cracking and go and take some photos.

Rock on dudes

Birthday Girl

It's my daughter, Gemmalahs birthday today, she's twenty years old. I can still remember being at the "Borning house" as she later called the maternity hospital, dressed in my jeans muddy trainers and my popeye pullover. All around in rooms women were screaming and shouting stuff like "Don't you ever touch me again" and "if you think you're gonna have sex again in this life time think again." Meanwhile my wife was quiet as a mouse. I asked her later why she didn't scream like all the other women giving birth. She just said "What's the point?" And so Gemmalah was born. And today twenty years later I'm going to take her out to dinner. Whooppee!

Rock on dudes 

Playing dead in Oundle

Today I went to Oundle to take photographs. I found this in the door way of a church; Graffitti carved into the stone work. Graffitti isn't anything new. You can find it at Pompei in Italy. You find it everywhere. The church itself was built in 1634. So this was carved a short time, relatively after that. There were some kids playing in the graveyard. Suddenly they all fell to the ground as if dead. I haven't a clue why. They just did it. I took the photo.
"You owe us £1" one of the boys shouted.
"For taking our photo." shouted the other. Then they ran away to play dead over grave stones.
Kids eh?
I just had to take this photo.
Look I'm sorry I'm boring you to death with stuff that doesn't involve sex, drugs, rock and roll or violence. But I can tell you that I have found yet another roll of bacofoil on my back door step. Other than that it's been a quiet weekend.

Sleep on dudes

My Excuse: I was Kidnapped

No I wasn't kidnapped by Jamie Lee Curtis. That might have been OK. I was actually Kidnapped by Del who used the argument that he missed being able to join me on my birthday so he had to make it up to me another day. Hence he kidnapped me.
It all started off gentle enough. A couple of pints down the boozer, some quiet conversation and then home. Except I wasn't taken home I was taken to Dels house and forced to drink huge quantities of rum and coke. They held me down I tell you. They had a funnel an everythin.
I protested that I was a jehovas witness and as such couldn't drink Rum and coke no matter how delish it was. I protested about the second glass and the subsequent "top ups". But all to no avail my heartless captors kept feeding me rum and coke until shortly after listening to Tom Waits and declaring him "a God amongst men" I collapsed in the hallway and fell asleep. What's worrying me now is Del and Diane have a habit of breaking their captives and then taking photos. I never saw a camera when I came to so I might be safe. But I have seen photos of their past victims. All seen in a coma or something.
Somehow I was taken home. I don't remember much about that. But I do remember waking up the next morning and thinking "this is not good." and Del wants to take me to Amsterdam?
Damn Damn Damn I've just got a text from Diane she didn't use a camera she took photos with her phone.
Oh the shame. I'll have to tell people I was kidnapped by Al queada terrorists and drugged. Just to explain my absence from your screens.

Rock on Dudes

It's my birthday

It's my birthday today. I'm old. Friends brought me cakes. I've eaten a load of them. I Knew it was a mistake but Del brought me some cakes. I thought I'd try just the one for now. It was delish. So I had another, then coffee was served and I had another with my coffee. Then Sandra came in lusting after me carrying more cakes. So I had to try her wares too. Now I feel sick. I shouldn't have to feel like this on my birthday. But I guess from an early age it's traditional to throw up on your birthday whether it's too much jelly and Ice cream or too much alcohol. For me it's too much cake. My daughter Gemmalah sent me a birthday Email this morning, "I hope you get to eat lots of cake." she said.
"No chance." I replied. "I don't eat cake." (often)
Oh yes. I got an Email from a very dear friend this morning. It said "Happy Birthday" that's all nothing else no message. We haven't spoken in five years not since... Perhaps she still loves me after all, despite what happened.

Chuck up dudes

Sometimes things aren't planned

It's funny how something just happen. I was leaning out my window watching the fireworks, when Kevin the record producer pulled up below my window. He'd just finished a days recording in the studio with his Rap crew. Notice I didn't say band. That's because I'm super cool, and up with the word on da street. I shout out a "Hi!"
He looks up, sees me and shouts "I want you to do some filming for me."
"You mean photography!" I corrected him.
"No filming. I want you to shoot a video for me on Friday night."
"What sort of video?"
"I'm seeing a grainy black and white amateur, Blair Witch type video which I can later intercut with full colour glossy stuff."
"Yeah I can do grainy and black and white."
"Great I'll call you in the week and arrange something."
Of course I can do grainy black and white amateur film because I'm a shit film photographer. Even if I do have a professional outside broadcast video camera. So that's what I'm going to be doing Friday night.

Meanwhile I went to see Jamie Lee Curtis. She made me coffee and we sat and chatted. I mentioned the sexy photo thing to her. She looked straight at me with her blue eyes, giggled a bit then "Oh I've already had sexy photos done of myself."
"You have?"
"Sure. D'ya wanna see them?"
"Of course." I said, and she skipped off upstairs. I watched her from the bottom of the stairs. She came down with a few A4 sized glossies.
The first was a head and shoulders shot of her apparently naked except for a white feather boa wrapped round her shoulders. Another had her lieing in a bed with a satin sheet wrapped round her, supposedly naked again but revealing just a hint of cleavage.
"They're a bit..." I started.
"Yes?" she was looking for praise.
"They're very nice. But..."
"But what?" I could see her deflating by the microsecond.
"They're a bit tame."
"Well do you think you could do better?" she challenged me.
"Ah do you think YOU could do any better?" I counter challenged.
She said nothing, but flashed me a Mona Lisa smile whilst looking up through her hair in a faux Princess Diana attempt at shyness.

I walked home later, my mind racing, with thoughts of how far I could push her whilst staying within the bounds of taste and decency. By the time I walked past the pub a hundred yards from her house, taste and decency were blown away with the breeze. I'd even ditched the idea of taking a camera. You know what I'm saying.

Rock on dudes

Quantus Airlines

I found this article here. There's loads more. Like the letter from a little girl to the Captian of the airplane. How sweet!

After every flight, Qantas pilots fill out a form, called a "gripesheet," which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft.
The mechanics correct the problems; document their repairs on theform, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight.Never let it be said that ground crews lack a sense of humor.
Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by Qantas' pilots (marked with a P) and the solutions recorded (marked with an S) by maintenance engineers.
By the way, Qantas is the only major airline that has never had an accident.

P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.

P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.

P: Something loose in cockpit.
S: Something tightened in cockpit.

P: Dead bugs on windshield.
S: Live bugs on back-order.

P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200feet per minute descent.
S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.

P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S: Evidence removed.

P: DME volume unbelievably loud.
S: DME volume set to more believable level.

P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S: That's what they're for.

P: IFF inoperative.
S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.

P: Suspected crack in windshield.
S: Suspect you're right.

P: Number 3 engine missing.
S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.

P: Aircraft handles funny.
S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.

P: Target radar hums.
S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

P: Mouse in cockpit.
S: Cat installed.

P. Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds
like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
S: Took hammer away from midget

Unity again

Tonight I was doing my usual stint as photo- grapher for the Unity club in Peterboro. This guy is Moonie. Yes there's a story behind that. People would be always mooning him. Hence the name. Anyway his Band Opaque were brilliant. The lead guitarist, four foot nothing in his stockinged feet, rocked with his fender Telecaster. I was blown away by them. You know I've mentioned about star material. Well this guy has it. Maybe not the rest of the band, who were frankly, visually quite boring.
But before these guys was my mate Rory from South Africa. Actually he was born in Rhodesia. That's my guitar he's playing. Yay! For my guitar. Considering the young crowd at this venue and Rory was playing old covers, he didn't do too badly. You could tell he was /is a professional musician. He had the in between songs patter going on. I was impressed. I had a pint of beer and everytime I turned round I had less beer, and it wasn't me drinking it. I started watching and I caught this girl taking gulps from it every so often. So I had to bend her over my knee. Well you would wouldn't you?
Then up came Irene Rae. She writes her own material and is pretty good. Given the right breaks she could easily make it professionally. She's got personality, confidence and above all talent. I met her first about a month ago and asked her to play at Unity. She could be another KT Tunstall. The crowd went wild over her. You know this Unity club is a great thing. I've seen so much new talent here. I've seen some crap too. But it's new it's real. It's very exciting even for an old duffer like me. But it didn't stop there.
Where would I be without more pictures of Abi?
This is Abi and Richard. Two of the nicest people I know. They finished off the night with a reunion of their band "Within" that split up a month ago A few personel changes but then everyone thought "Within" was Richard and Abi anyway even though they were the last two to join the group.

All these pictures were taken using a Canon EOS350D 8mp. It arrived today and so I have been road testing it. Decent photos in difficult conditions.

Rock on dudes.

Shagsville Arizona

Jamie Lee Curtis is a tease. She came to see me today.
"Come round mine tonight." she cooed, all sexy like and desperate for my body.
"What time?" I asked, tearing at the bit.
"oh after my husband has left. I'll phone you." That's her ex husband I hasten to add, and he's a big fella. "We can watch Star wars episode two on TV... I've seen it before but..." She's standing in front of me all slim and blond hair falling over her eyes.
"...if we're bored we can do something else?" I chip in.
"oooh yesssss!" Bright pink lipstick. If we weren't in the street...
Result.
Apparently her husband didn't leave until very late. So I went out with Del instead. In the pub he was telling all comers that I'd been out shagging Jamie Lee Curtis. They didn't believe him. Nor did I. Because I hadn't.
Damn Damn Damn Damn!
Don't get me wrong much as I love Del he is not my idea of a good shag. Diane might put me right and say he is the best shag since the dawn of time, but even such a testimony will not sway me to think of him in any other way than my best friend.

Then shortly after Jamie Lee Curtis came to see me Lorraine stepped into view. She came in to see me. God she's cuter than a cute thing on a Hallmark greetings card and much more fun.
"Can we go outside to talk?" she said very very quietly.
"Sure." I said thinking we'd have our usual chat.
"I'm pregnant." she says. Just like that.
"Fuck!"
"Don't worry it's not yours." But I wasn't worried on that score. I've been firing blanks for over ten years. There wasn't a possibility it was mine.
"Haven't you figured out what's causing this?" I joked.
"I don't know, it just happened."
"So what about your career and your plans?"
"I guess they're on hold for a while."
"So the photos are out then?"
Here's a tip for you guys. Girls love the idea of having some sexy, but not pornographic photos taken of themselves. So we're talking suggestive not explicit. No money shots. No geanocological shots. Comprendi? Unless of course big bucks are involved.
So I suggested some subtle Demi Moore type shots. She said she'd think about it. Shit! Where can I get a sheepskin rug from at short notice? Or even better a tiger skin rug. I'll look on Ebay.
Kevin a music producer came to see me today. Yes they were all turning up today. I offered my services as a photographer.
"Sorry Mike but I've already hired a guy from Stamford called Christian. He's done Robbie Williams."
Has he by Christ! Even I wouldn't stoop so low.
The bastard. Perhaps I'd get more success if I was called Christian or Tristam. But then maybe I'm better off as Mike Da Hat. You know what I'm saying.

Rock on Dudes

And Rock on Del