>>>>>Killing Time<<<<<

One small jump for Robbie...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 21:38:00 +0000

On July 13th 2009, motocross legend Robbie Maddison attempted to leap Tower Bridge in London. Meanwhile, in the city of Hull, one gentleman was getting slightly over-excited about the 'live' coverage on Channel 5...

Bugged out...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 16:28:00 +0000

When we were eyeing up that Thriller-era Michael Jackson costume the other day I couldn't help but notice a thing in the window that's been catching my attention since I was a small boy. Round these parts, as I've mentioned before, Dinsdale's Joke Shop is the stuff of legend. And for as long as I remember the window display has always contained some Super Quality Magnetic Insects, which dance around in front of your very eyes because of, well, magnets. They weren't £2.50 in my day, mind. I never did get round to buying one but encouraged Finn to gaze at them for a while. He wasn't interested. He will come the day they burst out of the window and take over the world.

Sunday evening shinding #12...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 22:56:00 +0000

The Kleptones - The Underground Hand That Buttoned The Widow

There's fire in me body

I'm just 'there'

Off the wall...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 22:01:00 +0000

Good to see that those mourning the death of Michael Jackson can still easily dress as the man if that will help them get over 'it'. Spotted this natty Thriller-style outfit in Hull's famous Dinsdale's Joke Shop, stockists of fake dog excrement, itching powder and, well, this. The 'King of Pop' is dead, long live plastic fancy dress.

Vs, Vs, Vs...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 22:11:00 +0000

Went to see a photo exhibition charting Hull City's first year in the Premier League. And very good it was too, although the overall effect was a bit tarnished by some dodgy typo-riddled, apostrophe-mistaken caption cards. One suggested that the photograph had been taken at a game between West Brom v Hull City v Chelsea, which I'd liked to have seen, and another that the Tigers' opponents were a team called Spurns. Tottingham Hotspurns is their full name, no doubt.

Sunday evening shinding #11...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 23:05:00 +0000

Groove Armada - Chicago

The saxman cometh...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 21:38:00 +0000

This gent's a postive contribution to the streets of Hull. When we passed he was playing a whacked out version of the Pink Panther theme.

Snap happy...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 21:10:00 +0000

This morning we set off in the car...with my digital camera on the roof. A few minutes and a few speed bumps later, a car turned in front of us, stopped and a tanned man in the passenger seat started to approach us. Trouble, I thought. But no, he was just pointing out my silly mistake. "Your camera's on the roof," he laughed, as he passed it to me through my open window. Which was a lovely thing to do.

Gagging for First Love...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 23:00:00 +0000

Director Lee did us proud with his musical choices for Gagging For It. One of which was The Maccabees First Love - a smashin' track that makes great use of the word 'symmetrical'.

Gagging for it...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 10:20:00 +0000

Back in June 2004, we were getting all involved with the Humber Mouth (via the writers' group at Hull Truck that we were a part of) for the second year running, having had our toe-in-the-water ten minute plays aired at the previous year's festival - which took place in October 2003. We were still dreaming of becoming playwrights back then, unaware that we already were. Gagging For It, which played to a lovely, up for it, capacity audience in the studio at Truck last night, completes a bit of a circle, I think, and sets us up nicely for the next stage in the journey.

I could do without the comedown. It is just how it is, but it's no way to feel after what was a bloody good night and a damn good working experience with some extremely talented people. I know it's coming - I've known that since October 2003 - but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. In fact, it makes it even worse. Last night, for 60 minutes and a nice round of applause, we truly existed in the space we belong. Today it's all gone away. And we have to begin again. F**k.

Sunday evening shindig #10...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 22:07:00 +0000

The Enemy - We'll Live And Die In These Towns
You spend your time in smokey rooms
Where haggard old women
With cheap perfume say
It never happens for people like us, you know
Well nothing ever happened on its own

The creative bug...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 18:41:00 +0000

Yes, that's right, I've been busy every day but Sundays of late. There's been nuttin' but shindigs on the Sabbath round these parts. Which is a good thing. As is being busy, I suppose. Short film nicely filled Vue. Now we're waiting for the play to be performed. Thought I better blog, given that I've been telling other people how to blog and registered my disgust at bloggers that head into this with no intention of posting regularly. Like I used to. Every day without fail, it was. Take a look at me now, as Phil Collins once opined, probably prefixing his lyric with a 'but'.

Last night was a weird one - I headed to an invite-only debate that aimed to locate 'Hullness'. Most of us know that we'll never get our hands on such a mythical beast. Certainly not in two hours. Still, the postcards and the orange juice hit the spot.

When I returned home I discovered Hugh MacLeod's Gaping Void. Hugh draws cartoons and pens words on the reverse of business cards. Well, somebody had to do it, eh? Here's the result - currently hanging from the monitor to inspire me.

Sunday evening shindig #9...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 17:53:00 +0000

The Rakes - The World Was A Mess But His Hair Was Perfect
And you go on and on on on
Talking shite through the night
Just trying to stop our arguments falling to pieces
You slag off America in the pub
Saying the war was shite
Then in the club
Drink some Buds and smoke some Marlboro Lights...

Sunday evening shindig #8...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 18:09:00 +0000

Sinead O'Connor - Mandinka
They're throwing it all this way
Dragging it back to the start
And they say, "See how the glass is raised?"
I have refused to take part

Sunday evening shindig #7...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 19:37:00 +0000

The Rolling Stones - Monkey Man
Well, I am just a monkey man
I'm glad you are a monkey woman too

Not my favourite Python...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 22:07:00 +0000

Maybe the person asking the question should've thought before he opened his mouth. John Cleese is stood there, on stage, rounding off the high fives all round the business community event that is the Yorkshire International Business Convention. Cleese hasn't done so much as a silly walk, nobody has mentioned the war, nobody has shouted out 'Albatross'. Not that any of that was expected. We expected what we got - Cleese's obsession with psychology. So, the question. "What's your favourite Python sketch and why?" Cleese offers a steely stare. "I don't know. The one where the man eats the lion." Pause. "I don't fucking care. I have people coming up to me all the time telling me what their favourite Python sketch is." I did quite fancy shouting "Albatross" right then. But, unlike the gent that posed the question, thought better of it. Had a few people tell me that Cleese opted out of some media interviews because he had to have a lie down. My favourite Python is Michael Palin - Cleese did nothing to change that today, although he probably isn't interested in favourite Pythons either.

Bad blogger...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 21:58:00 +0000

There's nothing worse than a blogger making their excuses for not blogging. It's as tedious as MPs flipping or claiming for ginger biccies and harping on about being within the rules. But... Life's just one big round of short film editing at the moment - and such is the nature of the beast that it's all very Groundhog Day. I'm even dreaming about editing. Groan. In other news I was so intent on making the most of the recent sunshine that my arms - and only my arms - have gone an unhealthy lobster colour. Groan. Watched The Apprentice semi-final tonight. Why is it that, even though every series has followed exactly the same template and there are no longer any surprises, that the participants don't appear to know what's coming next? Even Suralan announcing that only two of them would make the final was greeted with huge gawps of shock. Hull-born Yasmina Siadatan (yes, that is a typical Hull name and is right up there with Courtney, Britney and Chelsea) has made the final. She is one of those sorts with a perpetually downturned mouth and smiling seems a very painful exercise for her. So I want her to win (she should, her competitor is an android with no personality) if only to see the dour, somewhat surly expression on her face. In other other news, today I read Peace's 1977, following yesterday's devouring of Jake Arnott's He Kills Coppers. Both very grim page turners that will have me reaching for something comedic next.

Sunday evening shinding #6...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 31 May 2009 18:00:00 +0000

Blur - On Your Own

So take me home, don't leave me alone

I'm not that good, but I'm not that bad

No psycho killer, hooligan guerilla

I dream to riot, oh you should try it

Last post...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Fri, 29 May 2009 23:19:00 +0000

As if Elizabeth Windsor doesn't have enough to worry about re her Royal Mail, given that hardly anyone corresponds via snail mail anymore. That poor, poor woman now has to contend with lousy typographic errors undermining the very post boxes that carry the reet royal initials. Who on earth would dare to make such a mistake? Clearence? Treason more like.

Defacer...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Fri, 29 May 2009 23:08:00 +0000

If you're going to deface a banknote, and therefore, according to my understanding of the The British Currency and Bank Notes Act (1928), be liable on summary conviction to a penalty not exceeding one pound, then do it in style, I say. M was presented with this tenner at an ATM today. I am assuming that the writing has been crossed out because the author was unhappy that s/he had been unable to spell 'bitch' correctly - the struck through "Fuck you you bith" lacking a certain something. I also assume that the 'bith' in question is HM herself.

Mary...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Tue, 26 May 2009 11:45:00 +0000

Our neighbour Mary has finally got the message that Finn's name is, erm, Finn. For several weeks she has been calling him Flynn. I countered each such utterance with a louder Finn but I thought I was wasting my time. Until yesterday, that is, when the penny appeared to finally drop with the stubborn/dementia-ridden one and she called our little monkey by his actual name. There is a three foot tall fence separating our two gardens, so it is a good thing that this confusion has been sorted as summer will no doubt be full of Mary and Flynn...oops, Finn, conversations.

Gibberish....

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Mon, 25 May 2009 21:13:00 +0000

Busy weekend. Wedding. Sunshine. Football. Sunshine. Editing. Sunshine. That kind of thing. Hell, I even found myself weeding the garden this morning, which is a rarity for me, hence the need to pull some of the blighters out of the ground. I rediscovered a table beneath lots of tangly sticky stuff, which was nice and made Finn say "ooh!". I'm writing some speeches for a business type tomorrow. Alarming.

Sunday evening shindig #5...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 24 May 2009 21:00:00 +0000

Pavement - Stereo
Pigs, they tend to wiggle when they walk
The infrastructure rots
And the owners hate the jocks
With their agents and their dates
If the signatures are checked
You'll just have to wait

Sunday evening shindig #4...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sun, 17 May 2009 23:15:00 +0000

Reverend and the Makers - Heavyweight Champion of the World
And you work harder, work harder
Cos you’re told that you must
And you must earn a living
And you must earn a crust

To King's X and back...

noreply@blogger.com (Dave W) — Sat, 16 May 2009 15:54:00 +0000

Thrilling train ride to London King's Cross and back again. Literally. Got off the train, had one pint on Euston Road, then it was back on the train home, with camera pointed from the engine's cab to the railtrack for a short film title sequence. All for Ted Lewis – I hope he appreciates the effort. The Rt Hon Alan Johnson MP was sitting in the carriage with us on the way down. Reading the Telegraph, pouring over the latest on the expenses scandal. We got fed up of making comic asides about saving receipts etc and had a chat with him – well, camera guru Martin more than me, the two of them sharing an unhealthy interest in all things BAE Systems and Martin shamelessly conducting an OOV interview as his camera rolled. Alan made it clear that he was paying for the wine that he shared his table with, even though it looked as if he was going to get it gratis. Anyway, enough about politicians. Thanks Hull Trains for making it possible and also supplying me with some much-needed food (feta salad followed by fish platter in case you're wondering).