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February 2007
Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

So, I have just been informed that those of you with WAP enabled mobile phones can go to a special MTV WAP page all about my ass, where you can get a free songs for your phone (So, Be There, & Hypocrite), ringtones, screen savers, and animated thingies. Pritty future, non? Point your browsage to wap.mtvmobile.com.

You can also, if you haven’t already, listen to my album in its entiritey over at MTV.co.uk. Click here.

In other multimedia news, the Hypocrite video is now frontpage on Newgrounds, and has thusfar been viewed 14,54 times, and has an average rating of 4.14/5.00, which is pritty good! It’ll be on Youtube soon, I am promised.

So, I am off back to London soon. The sun just came out, so I shall have a pretty taxi ride to the airport, with all that nice light reflecting off of the puddles. I am totally into that sort of thing you know.

OK, I go now.

Pax!

— Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

If I have gathered anything from these past few days, it is that Berliners are a rude and noisy race, but then so are the English. The English may pretend to be polite, on occasion, but their falsity is more disgusting than their beer, and when the Great Scorer comes to judge their existences they will have as much of a hope of entering the Kingdom Of Joy as a Hindu cow, or a cauliflower, or Osma bin Laden.

Do you remember him? Some of my younger readers may be shrugging their empty little heads off of their sloping, acne-pocked shoulders, but six years ago he was the most terrifying man in our world, and his shadow hung thick and stinking over our heads like LA air.

Last most people heard of bin Laden was when he spookily turned up on TV right before the 2004 US elections to help little George Bush out. Where is he now? We are still at war, but we have no proper enemy. This is demoralising indeed. We have nothing to hate but ourselves, so we are forced to terrorise poor, innocent little pop stars, like Britney Spears.

But so what? A strange and beautiful girl lies sleeping behind me, and I suspect my clattering to be an obtrusion to her sleep, even if it is quieter than the revelous Germans outside this ceiling high window. You get two single duvets to one king-sized bed in this country, or at least this hotel. That makes the chance of an argument about duvet-stealing as doomed as a pig in the desert, but it also makes for less flesh on flesh, given the instinctive burrowing nature of the human animal, and flesh on flesh is what most of us live for, for good or ill.

On these things shall I brood, as I burrow in my single duvet, and listen to the revelous Germans. Nos da i pawb.

— Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

Sunday, February 25th, 2007

Go here.

And vote 5.

Dr Wonchop Of The Monkeymen and Akira The Me have made a brand new animated video for the song, Hypocrite, from my debut LP, When We Were Young. We hope you like it.

— Sunday, February 25th, 2007

Sunday, February 25th, 2007

Hello you all. I am in Berlin. Berlin rules. Yesterday we rented bikes and cycled around it for hours and hours, and drank fine whiskeys and ate steaks and things. I met a Turbonegro fan, and offical Turbo Jugend member. This is always good. I will write more on the morrow though, I have to do lots of funny internet business, and this keyboard is all crazy. It is not a Qwerty, but a Qwertzu! The Y is at the bottom! Amaying.

— Sunday, February 25th, 2007

Thursday, February 22nd, 2007

So there.

Liverpool were pretty ace last night too.

And Voxtrot weren’t bad neither.

A good night all in all.

I still haven’t got my communications. But that’s OK. I have a more pressing issue now. Where the hell is my passport?

Wah.

So. Gwil writes:

It’s finally happened.

We’ve got one.

COLLOSAL SQUID!

— Thursday, February 22nd, 2007

Tuesday, February 20th, 2007


Firstly: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG JACK NIMBLE!

Imagine! He was a baby once. What a mother. Praise that mother! Nerves of steel, surely.

So, I got this email from my buddy Luke, who is a music journalist. It was a press release. It read:

>Chris de Burgh – releases his new single Raqing Storm on 12th March –
>It’s a duet featuring 22 year old busker of the year winner Kristyna Miles…
>taken from his current album The Storyman.
>
>Chris has recently become a United Nations Goodwill Ambassador
>supporting IIMSAM (the Intergovernmental Institute for the use of Micro-Algae
>Spirulina against Malnutrition).
>
>He lives in County Wicklow, Ireland with his 3 kids –
>Rosanna – who was Miss World in 2003, sons
>Michael, Hubie and his wife Diane.
>He collects sculptures which he commissions and Beryl Cook paintings
>(I think I counted 5 originals when I was there…).
>
>He’s a huge Liverpool FC supporter, and loves golf.
>
> He’s available for Q & A type interviews or anything to do with sport….
>
>Let me know if you’re up for doing something with him
>or if you would like a review or competition
>copies of his current album – The Storyman,
>Or a review copy of the single.
>
>Cheers,
>
>Sharon

I read it, and I said, loudly, making the man next sat next to me jump – OMFG!

Then I rang Luke. “Hullo!” said Luke.

“OMFG!” said I.

“Omf?” said Luke.

“OMFG!” said I. Eventually he got the gist.

Exciting news, huh, oh my peoples? I am going to interview that Chris de Burgh, learn from him, bask in his wisdom, and maybe get to the bottom of his Thanks For All The AIDS sample deniance. This could be incredible. Hell, he might even lay his healing hands on my weary back and make me all springy again.

OMFG!

Yes indeed. It is a good day to be a Donovan. I paid my rent, mixed the Hypocrite remix, did the recycling, and witnessed a merry crew of Polish boys and girls storming the gym next door. I’d heard about these Poles. Jeremy used to love the gym next door, as it is usually pretty empty, and populated mainly by wobbly bottomed thirty somethings. But recently, as predicted by The Sun, and all the other right wing press sheets, Stoke Newington has become quite inundated with Poles, and they do love to be fit!

“It’s terrible,” said Jeres, despondently, on coming back from his exercises one day recently. “They sweat all over the crash matts and they’re huge! They work in squads and do weird exercises and punch each other really hard. They frighten me.”

Being part Polish myself, I think this is wonderful. I shall rejoin that gym post haste and befriend them. I noticed a Polish grocery store opened up the road the other day. None of the products sold inside have English writing on them. It is fantastic, and the place seems to be run by a quite scarish crew of handsome Polish ladies. Polish ladies sure are handsome. I prefer pretty, usually, but there is definitely room round these bougie parts for strapping handsome Polish ladies punching each other in the stomachs and scaring Jeres. All hail the European Union!

PS – It is pancake day. I can’t eat pancakes, right? Stupid wheat. Why did God decide to make everything yummy out of animals and meat? Stupid God. A pox on his face.

PPS -Ali and I watched Signs last night. It was pretty good. Mel Gibson is so hilarious. What a fucking massive filtrum he has! I am quite convinced that there is a Hollywood filtrum conspiracy. They all have massive filtrums, They scare me. Saying that, Tracey Emin has no filtrum at all, and I know who I’d rather watch blowing people up and stuff. NOT HER!

Yes.

PPPS – So, the night before last, we watched Little Miss Sunshine. It was pretty neat. I liked the emo kid, but the smack snorting granddad was best, and they killed him off pretty early in it. Chloe from 24 was in it too! Doing exactly the same stupid face she does in 24! I love her. Anyway. Watching Signs last night, I was all like, oh my God, Mel Gibson’s daughter in Signs is so that little girl from Little Miss Sunshine. Ali was, like, no she isn’t. I’m like, yes she is, and there’s no such thing as coincidence. Anyway, I just checked IMBD, and it was totally the same girl – she’s called Abigail Breslin. So there you go. I have no idea what it all means, but it sure means something.

PPPPS – Game’s verse on the Pain In My Life remix has made me finally admit he SUCKS. I dunno why I hung onto my hope for The Game for so long. Maybe I kind of empathise with duke. Still tho, this verse is totally shitty. Half of it doesn’t even rhyme. And he manages seven wack ass name drops in his sixteen bars. Wasteman. Saigon’s isn’t too hot either. BG makes them both look like Abigail Breslin. And HE sucks ass too. Waste!

— Tuesday, February 20th, 2007