Mathew Browne

This is a mish-mash of stuff I’ve been up to. I don’t think I’ll be able to cleverly segue between these mentionables, so I won’t bother.

I am torn between going to see Guns 2 Roses tonight - a Guns n Roses tribute band I’ve been looking forward to seeing - and going out with a group of friends from halls I haven’t seen in months. I toyed with the idea of both, but seeing as the gig is in Walthamstow it makes that job difficult.

Speaking of Guns N’ Roses, according to Axl Rose himself - someone who is notoriously tight-lipped about such matters - GNR’s 14-years-in-production album Chinese Democracy is going to be heard this year. I won’t hold my breath.

Knowing I’m leaving Bulldog and have only them as an alternative, BT tried to covertly charge me £75 to get reconnected, then had the gall to sign me up to a 12-month contract. I rang them up yesterday morning, did my best Mr. Angry Customer impression, and they relented.

Angry phone call #2 was to Bulldog, who - despite promising to terminate my contract on December 17th - charged me an extra £60 this month. They gave in (eventually).

Watched Cube, Cube 2 and Cube Zero this week. (And yes, you are supposed to watch them in that order.) They are really very good, and I recommend you watch them. I always like it when I enjoy a film starring a cast of unknowns - I feel like I’ve got one up on everyone else.

One of the websites I’ve been working on at UCL is nearing completion and is looking good, even if I say so myself. Ironically, this comes at a time when my job is at risk - the grant funding that my job depends on is looking increasingly unlikely to come through, meaning that come April or May I’ll be seeking alternative employment. I’m gutted, but I’m also grateful that I’ve had such a good opportunity here, and happy that my contract termination isn’t a result of poor performance or them not liking me.

I was bored this morning so wrote back to another one of those 419 scams today. My would-be scammer, one Mr. Bill Dooru, answered promptly, asking for an address to which he could send me the important documents. I gave him this:

Big Ben LeClock, Westminster Bridge, London, SW1A 0FU, UK.

Feeling happy with my potential scam-bait, I discovered this site, which shows people successfully baiting these bastards a million times better than me.

What a productive weekend. Other than selling even more of my Playstation games on eBay, I’ve done almost fuck all. Glorious.

I finally managed to upload my fireworks night photos (taken from my gaff), as well as photos of the free fireworks display I went to at Beckton Park the previous night from my camera to the computer..

I’ve switched the web photo album freeware I use, seeing as the last one made even the finest photos look like they were rendered on a Mega Drive. Having said that, the new one is hardly perfect either, but a vast improvement nonetheless.

The DLR extension has opened, meaning I now have not one but TWO stations to choose from in the morning. However, it’s not much of a choice seeing as they’re both equidistant from me, I change lines at the next station, and it’s Sod’s law I’ll end up missing the previous train by about 30 seconds anyway.

I caught a train on the new extension (only the second train to officially run, no less) and was overjoyed to see the confusion it caused to the numerous American and German tourists who got off at Canning Town expecting to meet the shuttle bus service to the airport. Of course, the whole point of the DLR extension is to replace the shuttle bus. I knew that, but they didn’t. I didn’t tell them either. Because I’m a shit.

Booked my train tickets to Wales during the Christmas holiday, marking the first time I’ve been “home” in 9 months. Am very much looking forward to putting back on the weight I’ve steadily lost over the last six months.

Thanks to some seasonal cashflow problems (thanks to the silly amount of money I spent on wrestling tickets), I’ve knocked on the head any plans for catching some shows this month. Gutting, considering there’s a World Championship Boxing show at Excel on the 10th. (Excel, for those who don’t realise, is a 5 minute walk from my flat.) I was also going to get myself some cheap tickets to see Status Quo. I’m such a Dad rocker, but about 25 years too young and not a Dad. In fact I probably would have gone with my dad-in-law, too. Nevermind, I’ll see them next year. If they’re not dead.

I’m consoling myself with the fact that there are two Guns N’ Roses tribute bands performing within commutable distance from me in the coming months (Croydon and Walthamstow, to be precise), along with Adler’s Appetite, who are effectively a third Guns N’ Roses cover band, except the drummer actually was in GNR.

All this talk of gigs is reminding me to finish the “all the gigs I’ve been to” page I started working on one evening and - as happens so often with me - I never finished. Which is what I really should do with this post. Over and out.

I saw Melt Banana with Cez last night. It’s the first gig I’ve been to in a VERY long time. I remember a time when I was seeing gigs every other week. Memories.

This was a great but slightly frightening gig. I was on the perimeter of a mosh pit thanking my lucky stars I wasn’t one of the petite, very confused Japanese girls stuck in the middle of it being ping-ponged about the place looking pained.

Speaking of pain, the vocalist for the first support act sounded like he was in much pain “singing” as I was listening to him. He wasn’t a lyrical genius - I managed to decipher the words “NAHHHHHHHHHH” and “RAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH”. And he never faced the crowd. Probably ashamed of his limited vocabulary. I think I summed it up best when I said “this is what nightmares sound like”. But that’s probably exactly what they were after.

Second band were good but forgettable. Cez and I spent much of it thinking of names for a wrestling entrance theme cover band, our latest fantastic idea that will never come to fruition.

Third band were trying too hard to be clever and prog-rockish. They ended up seeming pretentious and the singer got heckled to hilarious effect by the drunkards waiting impatiently for Melt Banana. To be fair, they were evidently excellent musicians but weren’t at all exciting. Three out of four of them wore should-have-gone-to-Specsavers-style glasses. I mean, come on. Glasses aren’t rock ‘n’ roll. I can say that because I wear glasses myself. At least wear sunglasses or tinted shades or something. Now that’s cool.

The ‘Nana were pretty good. I made the mistake of watching the gig sober, so resultantly they weren’t nearly as good as I semi-recall them being when I saw them (again with Cez) well and truly sozzled at the Mean Fiddler 3 years ago. Some spaced-out, drug-addled bastard was jostling for position with me at the front of the stage. Some well positioned elbows to his ribcage saw him off though.