David Bowie in Odd Shoes Shocker

Am watching 'The Whistle Test Years' on BBC Two. David 'Actual Genius Man' Bowie is on circa 1972 doing Queen Bitch. He's wearing a fantastic sparkly green jumpsuit. Very nice. My problem is with the big red clown shoes, really. Mick Ronson, however, looks unquestionably cool in gold spandex or something. He could really rock. The show is like a grown up version of TOTP2 with proper rock music on it. Not British people are unlikely to understand that last bit. Never mind.

The prospectus from Cambridge University arrived today. The Pint-Sized Princess has now declared that I just 'have' to go to Cambridge. "It's Cambridge Clare." she reminded me. Have suggested she come and become a teacher with me there. She's actually considering it, man! Which is more than me. I still want to be in pictures. She knows someone who's an actor so she's getting a list of agents for me to send my spankingly brilliant pictures shot in California to. Her exact words were "Will you stop fucking about saying it's what you want to do and actually DO it." Or something like that. And I'm not allowed to call her any derivative of Pint-Size anymore. Which is fair when you consider that I'm all of two inches taller than her. So to be amusingly snarky, I shall just call her Princess. But not in a bad way. Like Alfie calls Peggy Mitchell 'Duchess'. Again, Non-British people ignore the last sentence.

Gag. The Fairport Convention are on the show now. Am not fond of British folk-rock. Singer sporting v. dodgy proto-mullet, David Essex earring, moustache and violin combo. Bring back Spandex Dave!

I have a Politics (US Foreign Policy since 1945) paper due next Friday. About detente, Nixon and Kissinger. I don't think I could be less enthused about it. The Princess is panicking because her US Marine boyf is arriving in a couple of days and she wants hers finished before that. Don't blame her really.

AAAHHH! Roxy Music are on! Run to the hills! Blimey, Bryan Ferry looks dead young and not as lecherous as usual. Sounds like a dick. Some things don't change. Snarky when it comes to music, ain't I? Altogether now: "We are flying down to Riiiiii-ooo!"

You know, when I started writing this, I'm sure there was something interesting to write. And now it seems I'm just abusing the wonders of modern technology to take the mick out of Bryan Ferry. And I don't need a computer for that.

Funny moment in Politics today. Topic was the role of the National Security Advisor in US Foreign Policy over the years. Yawn. But then Gordo, our prof asked us who Tony Blair's Foreign Policy advisor was.... I don't know how it happened, but no sooner had he asked than I shot back with "George Bush." I don't know how it happened. I'd be sorry that I wasn't taking his class entirely seriously but it was pucking funny. It's all in the timing, man.

You know what's just occurred to me? I'm wasting your time. I have nothing important to impart to you, I'm just sitting here systematically deriding or idolising musicians as I see fit. So I'm going to slink off now. Bye.

David Bowie in Odd Shoes Shocker

Am watching 'The Whistle Test Years' on BBC Two. David 'Actual Genius Man' Bowie is on circa 1972 doing Queen Bitch. He's wearing a fantastic sparkly green jumpsuit. Very nice. My problem is with the big red clown shoes, really. Mick Ronson, however, looks unquestionably cool in gold spandex or something. He could really rock. The show is like a grown up version of TOTP2 with proper rock music on it. Not British people are unlikely to understand that last bit. Never mind.

The prospectus from Cambridge University arrived today. The Pint-Sized Princess has now declared that I just 'have' to go to Cambridge. "It's Cambridge Clare." she reminded me. Have suggested she come and become a teacher with me there. She's actually considering it, man! Which is more than me. I still want to be in pictures. She knows someone who's an actor so she's getting a list of agents for me to send my spankingly brilliant pictures shot in California to. Her exact words were "Will you stop fucking about saying it's what you want to do and actually DO it." Or something like that. And I'm not allowed to call her any derivative of Pint-Size anymore. Which is fair when you consider that I'm all of two inches taller than her. So to be amusingly snarky, I shall just call her Princess. But not in a bad way. Like Alfie calls Peggy Mitchell 'Duchess'. Again, Non-British people ignore the last sentence.

Gag. The Fairport Convention are on the show now. Am not fond of British folk-rock. Singer sporting v. dodgy proto-mullet, David Essex earring, moustache and violin combo. Bring back Spandex Dave!

I have a Politics (US Foreign Policy since 1945) paper due next Friday. About detente, Nixon and Kissinger. I don't think I could be less enthused about it. The Princess is panicking because her US Marine boyf is arriving in a couple of days and she wants hers finished before that. Don't blame her really.

AAAHHH! Roxy Music are on! Run to the hills! Blimey, Bryan Ferry looks dead young and not as lecherous as usual. Sounds like a dick. Some things don't change. Snarky when it comes to music, ain't I? Altogether now: "We are flying down to Riiiiii-ooo!"

You know, when I started writing this, I'm sure there was something interesting to write. And now it seems I'm just abusing the wonders of modern technology to take the mick out of Bryan Ferry. And I don't need a computer for that.

Funny moment in Politics today. Topic was the role of the National Security Advisor in US Foreign Policy over the years. Yawn. But then Gordo, our prof asked us who Tony Blair's Foreign Policy advisor was.... I don't know how it happened, but no sooner had he asked than I shot back with "George Bush." I don't know how it happened. I'd be sorry that I wasn't taking his class entirely seriously but it was pucking funny. It's all in the timing, man.

You know what's just occurred to me? I'm wasting your time. I have nothing important to impart to you, I'm just sitting here systematically deriding or idolising musicians as I see fit. So I'm going to slink off now. Bye.