Tuesday, 14 May 2013
Three Cheers for the Birthday Boy.
It's my birthday today!!! Yay!! Everyone sing!
For I'm a jolly good fellow, for I'm a jolly good fellow.
For I'm a jolly good fellowwwwwwww .......... and so say all of me.
Today I celebrate my birthday, not just because social convention dictates that I should do so, but because it's also a timely reminder that the misery I long to be put out of is one year closer to ending. And if that isn't cause to celebrate then I don't know what is.
I'm going to be 32... I think. A young man in most peoples' eyes, but already an old fart in my own. The Missus seems to find great amusement this. I told her that I may feel 70 these days, but before I met her I felt 18. 6 years together and she has put 52 on me. Christ help me, when we celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary, it'll be a miracle if both of us are still alive by then. For some unfathomable reason she seemed angered by this and went off to sulk. This was great, as I could watch the extended edition of Lord of the Rings on Blu Ray uninterrupted. The messages in my birthday cards all seem to take great delight in the fact that this will be my last birthday as a single man (as I'm officially marrying the Missus in 2 months, but that's another miserable blog for another miserable time). Those well-meaning fucks really know to make a guy feel worse. All I can say is thank fuck none of them work for the Samaritans.
So my friends visit and I receive cards with silly badges (that I admittedly wear with great pride) and open presents with a smile which has been welded onto my face, in case it slips off and into my pint of beer. Now I love every single one of my friends and family and I'd go to the ends of the earth for each one of them, but sometimes I just need them to know that I don't need presents from them. All I need from them is their absence, and surely that's not too much for a birthday boy to ask. So the Missus and I are going for dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant to celebrate my birthday. I already know I will be ordering the spaghetti bolognese. This is because depending on how the night goes, I may want to intertwine the spaghetti strands together to form a makeshift noose for my neck somewhere between dessert and coffee.
So how has my last year been? I think it's safe to say a mixed bag really. I'm now learning the art of standup comedy and I continue to write absolute bollocks, in the hope that people who read it might crack a smile and forget how shit their day has been. I'm still poor as hell. I live in the trendy West End of Glasgow which means I've found my spiritual home, and my wallet gets raped every month in rent money for the pleasure of staying there. So now I'm a broke arty farty writer in bohemian West End struggling to get by whilst plying my trade. I'm nothing if not a stereotype. Still, it's not all doom and gloom, some good things have happened this year. JLS have split up. Margaret Thatcher is dead. I've seen George Osborne cry live on worldwide TV like a little girl who's just been told that her birthday party has been cancelled. All I need now is for all One Direction members to be sentenced to life imprisonment for the violent gang-rape and murder of David Cameron, and my 2013 wishlist will be complete already.
And what are my goals to achieve before my 33rd birthday? Well, being crowned "Grand High Emperor of the Universe" would be nice. And winning £100 million+ on the Euromillions Lottery has been on my to-do list for some time now. But to be honest I'd be happy just to have all the same friends and family still around me, safe and well. It may be cliched but it's true all the same. Now dearest friends, fuck off. I've got a cake to cut and some welding to do.
Kieran (Birthday Boy) x
Friday, 10 May 2013
Dances With Smurfs.
Whilst chatting over a coffee in an overpriced coffee shop a friend of mines recently suggested that I try writing seriously for a change, rather than just this blog and my column in The Glaswegian newspaper. I told him that this WAS me writing seriously, which i'm sure you can imagine made the remainder of our coffee very awkward indeed. It was reminiscent of a couple who's relationship had completely fizzled out, but neither wanted to admit it, so spent the day punctuating the horrible silence with periods of painful small talk.
I've thought about writing novels before, but every time a semi-coherent plot formulates in my mind a movie/book immediately comes out which renders my idea dead in the water. I thought about a story where it transpired that Jesus' friend Mary Magdalene actually turned out to be his shag, rather than his Vatican approved fag hag. A historian called Tom then unravels a murderous plot which ultimately leads to the conclusion that his young female BFF Pauline actually turns out to be Jesus' granddaughter. The climactic scene is set in a small but intricately decorated church, where the historian calls Danielle to tell her the shocking news. I was all set to start typing, then Dan Brown came out with his book "The DaVinci Code". Damn.
Then I thought about a period piece story called "Das Boat" where a boy called Leo and a girl called Katie from opposite ends of the social and economic spectrum begin a romance on the world's most luxurious ship. The romance turns out to be doomed however when the ship hits an iceberg and sinks on it's maiden voyage in the middle of the Atlantic Sea. Most of the people die in the freezing water because there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone. Then I read somewhere about some ship called The Titanic or something. Bugger.
Then I thought of a tale where an adventurer far from home discovers a civilisation completely alien to him. One of their native girls who though suspicious at first, befriends him, teaches him of their ways and soon love blossoms. Though scientifically and technologically backwards, the indigenous people have a respect for their land and mother nature. The adventurer learns respect and love for the people, and soon this becomes his home. But alas! The adventurer's own people who are warmongerers and have no love or respect for the land, show up and make war on the indigenous society so they can rape the land of it's precious natural resources. The adventurer then has to chose between his own people and his new home with his new love. Then I found out about Pocahontas and Dances With Wolves. Shitsticks.
Still, if James Cameron can shamelessly and blatantly rip them off when making Avatar, then perhaps I shouldn't give a shit either. Either James Cameron has never heard of Pocahontas or Dances With Wolves, or he has brass balls the size of space hoppers. Afterall, making Kevin Costner's character a crippled space marine, and turning Pocahontas into a 12 foot tall Smurf still isn't enough to make it an original idea is it?
So what can I do for MY magnum opus? Well, it's a little late to jump on the 2012 doomsday scenario bandwagon, and sexually frustrated vampires have been done to death now. The in-thing right now is erotic stories involving sexually frustrated perverts and deviants, so perhaps if I'm quick there will be enough space on that bandwagon. Imagine if you will: A bored and sexually frustrated housewife meets a mysterious and dangerous chef at a cookery night class he is teaching at the local college. Her name is Pauline. His name is Gordon. He is Scottish and sweary and verbally abuses his pupils constantly by telling everyone that they are really shit at cooking and how he wouldn't serve the food they worked on so hard to the stray dogs in the alley behind the college building. This is a massive turn on for her. Cue chapter after chapter of unnecessarily filthy scenes where they cook various meals and eat them off one another by the open door of the cooker.
I can call it "Fifty-Seven Varieties of Grey" or"Nine and a Half Woks" or something. If it sounds a little dull then I can always set it in some private school for wizards, and a subplot can involve Pauline's son Harold and his 2 friends Ronald and Harmony battling an evil big bald snakey-looking wizard who for some reason must not be named. Possibly for legal reasons, for example he is a suspected sexual predator being investigated by police for child abuse allegations commited whilst he himself was at the private school. If any of this sounds familiar to you, then I don't know what you mean because it's an original story of mines and I made it all up all on my own and I'll sue anyone who claims otherwise. Damn you James Cameron, you big-balled genius.
![]() |
"Pauline? It's Tom. Jesus is your Granda". |
![]() |
My Vision for Das Boat. |
Then I thought about a period piece story called "Das Boat" where a boy called Leo and a girl called Katie from opposite ends of the social and economic spectrum begin a romance on the world's most luxurious ship. The romance turns out to be doomed however when the ship hits an iceberg and sinks on it's maiden voyage in the middle of the Atlantic Sea. Most of the people die in the freezing water because there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone. Then I read somewhere about some ship called The Titanic or something. Bugger.
![]() |
Avahontas.... |
![]() |
James Cameron's Vision When Planning Avatar's Winning Formula |
![]() |
"It was instant lust when their eyes met across the pot of boiling cabbage". |
![]() |
"The evil wizard looked on helplessly as officers from Operation Yewtree seized his laptop..." |
Saturday, 4 May 2013
There's Always Room for Gelato Motherfucker - Milan Special Pt 2.
![]() |
No, This Isn't Photoshopped. |
![]() |
God Has a Lovely House. |
![]() |
Me, Happily Enjoying a Coffee. |
![]() |
Bastard Conmen Everywhere. |
![]() |
I'm Lovin It. And Lovin It. And Lovin It. And L.... |
***UPDATE***
Ok everyone sing with me!
Oh, show me the way to go home,
I'm tired and I want to go to bed.
I was on holiday about an hour ago
And now I feel half-dead.
![]() |
Enjoying My Balcony. |
Thursday, 2 May 2013
Arrivaderci Bitches! - Milan Special Pt 1.
![]() |
Happy and Excited at Edinburgh Airport. |
![]() |
The Alps, from My Airplane Window. |
We're Staying in Milan for 3 days at a 5 star hotel. Now I know what you are wondering - 'How can he afford to stay in 5 star luxury when he is so bloody poor all the time?'. Well it's basically thanks to the Missus and the nature of her job. She gets to do these things, whilst I am the poor arty-farty writer scribbling away my thoughts on this gadget thingy like a squirrel hiding nuts in a tree. We'll be visiting the Duomo di Milano (In other words, the bollocking great cathedral) and also some Castello Dforzesco place too. I'm expecting the tour of the Duomo to cost a fortune. The one thing Italians know how do do, apart from play horrendously boring yet crushingly effective football, is make money out of religion. The last time I lived in Italy it was Florence (or Firenze if you're Italian, or an arsehole) and I once went on a day trip to Assissi, of St Francis fame. The Basilica there was beautiful in every way, but if you wanted to see where St Frankie was buried you had to pay, and if you wanted a candle then you had to pay 2 Euros. Scandalously, they then asked you to put it back in another container a mere six feet away. So you paid 2 Euros to carry a candle six feet. Like I said, a tremendous amount of money in religion.
![]() |
Happy and Having Fun on Our Balcony. |
I must say, the cabin crew have been absolutely lovely, and have treated us well, especially when one came to collect the rubbish and I asked if he would take away the Missus. The Missus then promptly asked how good the flush on the toilet was to the bemused steward. She then said "I have 14 stones of shit to get rid of before I arrive". Touche Missus, touche. I guess you could count this trip as a pre-wedding honeymoon. Why go on a honeymoon BEFORE the wedding? Well I figured that since most marriages end in divorce, we may as well get the fun stuff out of the way. In fact since the marriage statistically won't last, we may as well get it out of the way as soon as possible. That's why on the morning of the wedding I will be filing for divorce. I'm sure the Missus will appreciate the thoughtfulness. I will keep you up to date with how the holiday goes, but for now, buon giorno bitches.
***UPDATE***
We have now arrived at our hotel and are attempting to chill out. Milan city centre is absolutely fucking insane. Crazy drivers, suicidal pedestrians and so many people cutting in front of one another in queues that it could have been London in summer. Like I said, having lived in Italy before, I was used to this and expected it, but poor old the Missus didn't and got herself so worked up that she had steam coming out of her eyes. We decided to take a walk tp the local shopping centre, which immediately made me feel like I was back in the Buchanan Galleries (which is kind of defeating the purpose of going abroad). In these galleries we were stopped by security and had our shopping bags searched for no reason other than the guard was being a prick. I asked him "Is it cos I is black?", but he didn't understand and continued rummaging around our bags. He got frightened off when I asked to see his warrant, and threatened to call the Carabinieri if he didn't stop it. Fucking twat. We're currently sitting watching the Italian edition of The Voice (Which is like Eurovision, only even shitter) with a bottle of prosecco trying to digest today's events. So until tomorrow, buona sera bitches.
Thursday, 18 April 2013
The Week that Wasn't - Thatcher Special (Unedited Version)
"Irony Lady's Rule United Angry Scots" The Glaswegian, Wednesday 17.04.2013
Unsurprisingly, the news for the last week has been dominated by the death of Maggie Thatcher. To some the saviour of the harrumphing classes, to others, the scurge of the working man. Today the world will watch as she will be laid to rest with a funeral afforded to the Queen Mother, a full ceremonial funeral with military honours at St Paul's Cathedral, effectively a state funeral in all but name and at a cost to the taxpayer thought to be between £8-12 million.
Glasgow, like most of Scotland, was hit incredibly hard by the effect of Thatcher's policies, none more so than the shipbuilders on the Clyde and other heavy industry workers in and around Glasgow on which the country relied. And impoverished areas of Glasgow, already suffering the effects of "The Winter of Discontent" felt her policies even more accutely. Not all of Britain suffered though. As long as you lived in middle to southern England, were middle class and upwards, white, Christian and straight then you had the best chance tofind life quite comfortable. Indeed some with privileged starts to their lives were allowed to flourish in Thatcher's Britain, giving rise to the free market Yuppy stereotype which is looked upon today with derision. This rule is not hard and fast, and there were some working class or immigrants who did do well, and if you managed to succeed during this time then fair play, well done. But if you were poor or working class, black, asian, non-British, and gay, then the chances of you flourishing and reaching your potential were much slimmer. She once said to the press that there was no such thing as "society". Unfortunately, for the majority, regardless of talent or potential there was no such thing as meritocracy either.
As a result, the memory of Maggie has since maintained a specre-like shadow over the country, and parents tell their children of what it was like when Thatcher was in power. In this way Maggie has evolved into a societal boogeyman figure akin to Lord Voldemort, when Harry was still living under some dude's stairs and Voldemort was living under some dude's turban. "Do you remember when She who Shall Not be Named stopped the children getting milk at school? And do you remember when she opposed sanctions on South Africa's Apartheid and branded Nelson Mandela a grubby little terrorist?". "Yes. I remember when She Who Shall Not be Named sent the SAS to train the Khmer Rouge and opposed the reunification of Germany". "I remember the Poll tax, her opposition to the national minimum wage, raising VAT from 8% to15% and nearly 5 million people unemployed whilst giving tax cuts and other incentives to the richest"."Yup, She Who Shall Not be Named was a bit of a rotter, really. Still, in her defense she had a jolly posh accent and knew how to wear a blue dress".
The award for the biggest fantasist goes to Sir Malcolm Rifkind, who recently claimed that the Scots actually LOVED Maggie. He is of course referring to Thatcher's Right to Buy policy which allowed people to buy their council house at cut rate prices. This was one of the few kind things she did for the working class, and she should rightfully be hailed for it, however it clearly never occured to her that in the future council houses would eventually run out leading to the shortage we have in many areas. She could have used some of the money to build new houses but perhap she either didn't realise or care. Sir Malky obviously left Planet Reality a long time ago, but I'm sure he's now quite happy on his new home planet where all of Scotland vote Tory, Maggie is a national hero and Scotland had a week of national mourning, with people crying in the streets on a level only known in North Korea.
So Maggie passes in luxury warm in her bed in The Ritz, but for those who say that Thatcher won, I counter with this - the Scots finallly got their own back at the end. Her callous treatment of the poor and her determination to hammer the unions into submission united an angered Scotland which stood helplessly by, as the number of votes from England in the General Elections ensured that the Scots' votes would always be meaningless. Such unified desire for Scots to have their voice heard eventually led to the creation of the Scottish Parliament, and given our taste for autonomy it has led to next years' independence referendum. Margaret Thatcher was always deeply opposed to the idea of Hollyrood, and if we do vote yes for independence, then I'm sure that Thatcher's rage will be felt straight from the afterlife. In that way her punative policies have drastically backfired on her, because if only she had treated the poor fairly and with some compassion, if only the unions had not been hammered, then Holyrood may not even exist today. But if Scotland sees out 2014 having collectively said yes to independence, then Scotlands retribution will be complete.
Plenty in Scotland will celebrate Thatcher's passing, but whilst living at the height of Cameronism (which dwarfs Thatcher's ideology in many ways) those celebrations will all seem a little meaningless.
Kieran
X
![]() |
The Iron Lady in her Prime. |
![]() |
With Excellent Make Up Meryl Streep is a Dead Ringer. |
![]() |
A Meeting Between Thatcher & Pres. Ronald Reagan. |
![]() |
Scotland's Grief on Planet Rifkind. |
![]() |
Scenes Which Would Enrage the Daily Mail. |
![]() |
Thatcher's Ideology Lives On. |
Kieran
X
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
The Only Way is Anna Devitt
Comedian Anna Devitt has been making large waves in the comedy circuit which has culminated in her winning New Comedian of the Year at the prestigious Scottish Variety Awards 2013. Originally a student of highly respected and seasoned comic Viv Gee, Anna has set up her own all female production company called "Direct Devitt" and is responsible for producing and running shows. As part of the Glasgow Comedy Festival 2013, Anna had a 3 night run of her highly anticipated solo show "Made in Scotland: The Only Way is Glasgow!" hosted at S.P.A.C.E in The Argyll Arcade, Buchanan Street.
The show itself was split into 2 parts. Part one was a combination of off the cuff standup, and compering her own show. The show was interspersed with Anna recounting a very special rendition of Happy Birthday for her niece via "Truffle", Anna's belly button-mouthed 'friend'. Anna also recounted how she and a few friends were invited down to Henley (of annual regatta fame) and her Poundland present for her well to do hosts. A large portion of the show was not only audience interaction, but also with a healthy dose of self deprecative humour, showing that Anna was not afraid to highlight herself as the butt of many of her own jokes.
Part 2 began with her recounting tales of her school career at "Nae Bother High". And the show culminated with an impromptu pole dancing performance which also feature such disco dancing movies such as "The Worm" (Look it up), which was not only hilarious but also adorable in the nicest way. Throughout the show audience interaction was a key element, especially when she persuaded a male audience member to attempt a pole dance of his own.
Overall, the audience were treated to a much more intimate show than most Glasgow Comedy Festival show, which was to Anna's credit. The show although having the air of being more unpredictable than others' shows (due to the nature of the performance), still packed a punch and the prolonged standing ovatation from the crowd was ultimately the final say on Devitt's performance. The show was very enjoyable and highlighted not only Anna's quick-witted nature, but also a more personal side to her which can often be lacking with some of her peers' shows. Her run in this years' comedy festival may be over, but I will be looking out for more of her shows in future, and would recommend other fans of standup comedy to do the same. Very Good ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡
Kieran x
The show itself was split into 2 parts. Part one was a combination of off the cuff standup, and compering her own show. The show was interspersed with Anna recounting a very special rendition of Happy Birthday for her niece via "Truffle", Anna's belly button-mouthed 'friend'. Anna also recounted how she and a few friends were invited down to Henley (of annual regatta fame) and her Poundland present for her well to do hosts. A large portion of the show was not only audience interaction, but also with a healthy dose of self deprecative humour, showing that Anna was not afraid to highlight herself as the butt of many of her own jokes.
Part 2 began with her recounting tales of her school career at "Nae Bother High". And the show culminated with an impromptu pole dancing performance which also feature such disco dancing movies such as "The Worm" (Look it up), which was not only hilarious but also adorable in the nicest way. Throughout the show audience interaction was a key element, especially when she persuaded a male audience member to attempt a pole dance of his own.
Overall, the audience were treated to a much more intimate show than most Glasgow Comedy Festival show, which was to Anna's credit. The show although having the air of being more unpredictable than others' shows (due to the nature of the performance), still packed a punch and the prolonged standing ovatation from the crowd was ultimately the final say on Devitt's performance. The show was very enjoyable and highlighted not only Anna's quick-witted nature, but also a more personal side to her which can often be lacking with some of her peers' shows. Her run in this years' comedy festival may be over, but I will be looking out for more of her shows in future, and would recommend other fans of standup comedy to do the same. Very Good ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡
Kieran x
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)