Farmer

My birthday was last week and my lovely girlfriend took me for the weekend to a lovely wee cottage in the Sperrin Mountains.

The Sperrins isn't a place I know too well so while there aside from all the partying and setting trends that we do we went for a cool walk. I had my video camera with me and Kristiina decided to shoot some footage for a video I wanted to make of my poem Farmer.

Farmer is (in my opinion) one of my best poems. It's different from the sort of stuff I'm known for but I wrote it when I was 21 and living in Carlisle, long before I'd ever heard of performance poetry or page poetry (nonesense terms used for sneering and boxing people in). It was also one of the first poems I had published (Fire no.26) and for that reason I'll always be very fond of it.

Here's the video:

Boy Meets My Foot (in his hole).

I remember watching Boy Meets World as a teenager. It was a show that was alright to watch when your mum was eager to see the news. It mostly revolved around Fred Savage's less iconic wee brother trying to get buzy with the yummy Topanga (hubba hubba). It was vaguely enjoyable after a day learning things at school, you could easily just sit and zone out while it went about all quirky and cool and failing miserably. It was tolerable, and maybe even a slight guilty pleasure. What it wasn't, was a show that educated and helped me deal with issues.

That's why out of all the episodes of the show the one that sticks in my mind is the one below:



What happens is that Sean (Corey's dickhead mate) and Corey get drunk at a party. Corey stops because they puked and stuff, Sean however is now reckless and out of control. He shows up pished out of his face to school. No one smells it off him (because it's television). He insults beloved teacher Mr Feeney (Kit from Night Rider) who is imparting knowledge, gets told to get out to fuck.

Corey takes him home where they argue. Sean's 2D brother shows up and they fight about how their dad was a drunk (a-ha! Now we're getting to the root of the issue!) Sean's girlfriend shows up with Toganga (oo la la) and Sean's girlfriend tries to be understanding but Sean violently assaults her (oh! He's a violent drunk!) This is made much worse by the fact that she's the show's token black character so he comes off as a bit of a racist too. His girlfriend handles her abuse with grace and tells him she'll be back with some of her mates and a lead pipe. Sean sees that his nasty drunken ways are going to get him the kicking of his life and so he quickly gets dried out and apologises to everyone. Including Mr Feeney who as the pedagogue figure should have done a little more than the fuck all he did (he's probably tired after seeing how saving Hasselhoff's arse week after week led to fuck all).

Anyways his girlfriend's mates still fuck him up but then they get back together (although he's more subdued).

The problem with this episode is that it tried to be all advisory for its audience, and most of its audience didn't want it's advice. It also gave it in such a cackhanded way that reduced the issues to nothing more than something you take the piss out of with your mates. I'd like to hear the statistics on how many people who watched that show realised they had an alcohol problem like Sean. I'd guess not one. Epic Fail. Boy Meets World? What a fucking waste of my teenage life? I should have skived off school and went to the arcades to play tuppeny nudgers and had fights at the bus station instead of running home to see it.

The Adventures of Boring Tom - Part 4

One day Boring Tom found a penny on the ground

"Hey! I've just found a penny!" he shouted, as he picked it up.
"So what?" said some passers by. "You can't buy anything for a penny."
"I collect pennies and keep them in a jar at home," said Boring Tom.

The kids walked away laughing.
"We'll see who's laughing when I've saved up a pound!" said Boring Tom happily to himself.

Words by Gerard McKeown Art by Ryan O'Neill.

One Tree Hill and Music I Like

The other night I was trying to find the song Here Comes A Regular by The Replacements on youtube so I could show it to my girlfriend. As per usual on youtube I came face to face with craply recorded live versions and assholes (you are fucking assholes) in their bedroom doing shit covers (This is an emotional song and involved a lot of people giving birth/struggling with constipation/emotionally battered but resiliant).

I eventually found the song as it had been used in the TV Show One Tree Hill. One Tree Hill started around the same time as The OC and was temporarily overshadowed by its cool Seth Cohen witicisms and my ex-Rachel Bilson. But as The OC lost it's way and turned pish One Tree Hill kept chugging along like the little engine who could and burned brightly like a mighty log on the fire of television while The OC exploded wildly like a hallowe'en firework that shot up into the air in a beautiful display before crashing back to earth in the next door neighbours garden and setting their shed on fire (it got cancelled after a few seasons).

Anyways I've never really followed One Tree Hill. I know most of the main characters names and roughly what sort of people they are (at least within the context of the show, I don't know what they're like when they're off doing other stuff). I vaguely followed it when the guy shot his brother because he had gotten the first brother's high school sweetheart pregnant and tried to pretend it was a highschool kid on the rampage what did it but then he was found out by his sons (his illegitimate one and official one) and they made sure he rotted in jail for being a no good piece of slime. That aside I really don't have much of a clue about it.

I didn't know what to expect when I decided to risk showing this snippet to my girlfriend. I asked my girlfriend to listen to the song rather than watch the moving pictures (some bird in the show dying). I might have exposed myself to a massive ass whoopin (in a metaphorical sense) if it had not been that we were both surprised that after finding Ellie (who?) dead the American girl (Payton, Cocoa Butter or some other essential oil of a name) starts waffling on in French. (She must have liked her and now be traumatised). Though if you are traumatised what better song to listen to than Here Comes A Regular by The Replacements. Enjoy! (The song, not one tree hill).

The Adventures of Boring Tom - Part Three

One day Boring Tom was at the bus stop.

"Does this bus go to Lurgan?" Boring Tom asked.
"No," said the person at the bus stop.

"Good," said Boring Tom. "I don't want to go to Lurgan. Too many "wild boys" there".

Using his fingers hadn't produced the reaction he'd hoped for, but he wouldn't give up hope. Someday someone would get it.

Boring Tom by Gerard McKeown (words) and Ryan O'Neill (art)

Helping out a Tranny Tramp

Me and my sweet honey pie today went with some wee bits and pieces she wanted rid of to a charity shop. Only problem was every one we went to was closed. Not letting that beat us me and my little honey pie went and left the stuff in a wee sheltered bit outside one (not saying which cause we support).

We were very pleased with ourselves and gave each other a hi-5 At this point a tramp came along and asked if he too could give us a hi- 5 How could we refuse that miserable old tramp? We hung ten with the funky tramp. Then we fucked off to do other cool stuff.

When we came back we found that a suitcase full of clothes had been taken but another box was left. We thought it must have been the tramp. It was a nifty suitcase and would have made him look like a classy lad. Of course there were ladies clothes in it so maybe the randy old dude was a tranny as well as a tramp. That's cool we thought. When I used to work in charity shops trannies came in all the time (I've never worked in a charity shop but it's a vaguely amusing [if homophobic] story that makes me sound like I give a shit about muthafuckas).

Anyways we thought also he might have a lady tramp and the clothes will come in handy for presents on special occasions. This was sweet we thought. Our biggest fear was that some chump might have spotted the suitcase and thought it was a bomb (as can happen in this part of the world), and if that was the case we'd have to run from the cops.

MY KICK ASS NEW DIRECTION

I'M A POET OF SOME RENOWN AND I'VE DECIDED IT'S TIME FOR ME TO CHANGE DIRECTION. FOR A LONG TIME I BEEN DOIN DAT COMEDY STUFF AND IT'S BEEN ROCKIN (LIKE THE TIME I WAS STANDING ON A TABLE WITH MY HANDS ON THE CEILING ROCKIN DAT TABLE FROM SIDE TO SIDE AS I SPAT FLY RHYMES). BUT NOW I'VE GOT TO TAKE THINGS TO A HIGHER LEVEL. TEACHING THE YOUNGER GENERATION ABOUT STUFF DEY SHOULD KNOW. I'M LEADING THE WAY. HOLD OUT YOUR TORCHES. I'M SETTIN DEM MUTHAFUCKAS ON FIRE. DIS IS MY NEW RHYME IT'S CALLED DERRY MUTHAFUCKA. AND IF PEEPS BE TALKIN TRASH (BALLS) I BE FUCKIN DEM UP. I FUCK DER ASSHOLES OUT DA FUCKIN WINDOWS ANY DAY OF DA FUCKIN WEEK

DERRY MUTHAFUCKA

DERRY MUTHAFUCKA!!
I'M COMIN FOR YA CROWN MUTHAFUCKA!!
I BE SPITTIN RHYMES OF INTELLIGENCE!!
TALKIN ABOUT BRINGING THINGS TO ANOTHER LEVEL!!
ENGAGE WITH ME MUTHAFUCKAS!!
ENGAGE!!
I BE SHOWIN THA WAY PEOPLE BE DOIN THANGS
AND I BE SAYING BULLSHIT MUTHAFUCKAS
FIND YO SELF!!
DON'T BE ME!!
I'M ME!!
DELETE THIS IF YOU WANT I BE JUST TELLING PEOPLE
HOW TO BE WHO THEY WANT TO BE
AND NOT WHO THEY THINK THEY WANT TO BE!!
I SHOWS PEOPLE HOW TO BE INTELLEGENT [sic]
AND HOW TO SPIT RHYMES AND TELL COPS
TO LIKE YO GET YO FUCKIN' HAND OFF ME MUTHAFUCKA!!
I SPLIT YO SKULL WITH A BIG ROCK!!
DERRY MUTHAFUCKA!!
I OWN YOU NOW!!

136 Dunluce Avenue - An appraisal

Last week I read in a magazine that after a break up it's good to emote. And that a study (I understand this "study" could be balls like a lot of things used to qualify an arguement) showed people who talked about break ups and why faired better in the long run both in terms of emotional and physical health.

Don't worry, me and my sweet honey pie are going strong but I've just moved into my new house and I'm now about to give an appraisal of the people who I shared living quarters with in Dunluce Avenue and why a house that I felt happy to move into turned into a house I was happy to leave.

This is a list of the people I lived with in a rough order of who was there when I moved in and who moved in after someone left, though I'm not saying who left and when or why.

Conor - Conor was a decent guy. It was him that I met when I was viewing the house. He seemed like a fun enough guy that liked things to run smoothly. This proved a fair enough character sketch. Conor was a dead on sort but he'd tell you if he'd a problem about something in a fair and reasonable way (he didn't slag people off behind their back).

Gary - Gary was happy enough as long as he could do his thing. He didn't hassle people and he liked to get pissed once in a while. Though he couldn't be relied upon to pay his internet on time or if there was tension in the house. He seemed to go with the crowd which I don't fault him for. He just wanted a place to live and keep out of the politics.

Jerome - Jerome pretty much kept himself to himself and I never really got to know him.

Claudia - Claudia and me could clash about things and at times I went from not liking her at all to thinking she was good fun. She was someone you could have an interesting chat with if you were both in the kitchen or the living room at the same time.

Lorna - I never hit it off with Lorna, we got on okay here and there but again like Gary she went with the crowd and didn't really consider the whole picture. Very bad at buying gas when it was her turn or washing her dishes.

Julie - Moved in after someone moved out. We got on well even though we were two different sort of people.

Dawn - Alright but I never got to know her.

Rodney - Very bad at paying bills and not the best conversationalist. Wouldn't have been much trouble if he hadn't been made a target by other housemates. Let's be honest - a spide (townie if you're english, ned if you're a scot).

Gemma - Two faced. Liked to be nice to people's faces and phone the landlord behind their back. Thought a whitebored [sic] was cool and a bit "friends".

Tom - A bore. No visable friends and someone who very much liked to whine and stir trouble. Turned small managable problems into big ones that needed talked about (perhaps he had nothing else to talk about). You know at the end of Glengarry Glenross when Pacino just inserts the word Asshole into the conversation he's having with Kevin Spacey? People have done this all Tom's life to Tom, and though Tom has understood that they were right to do so, it has still made him very bitter.

Gosia - Didn't really get to know Gosia, alright to talk to though she didn't wrap food up when she put it in the fridge. So it went off and you had to throw it out for her.

That's why I'm glad I've left Dunluce Avenue. Though here's a video I shot outside my bedroom door. The music is by Communist Defectors Will Be Shot

Mystery Men - A Review

It seems that my last post offended a few people. That's too bad. I won't say that they can lick my balls (because I don't allow them to) but they should spend a bit more time sorting themselves out that whinning at me.

One thing they should do is check out the film Mystery Men. Mystery Men is a very much underrated wee movie that I picked to watch because I couldn't find anything better to watch in the video shop.



Firstly you'd think with it's cast (Ben Stiller, William H.Macy, Greg Kinnear, Tom Waits to name four) that if you hadn't heard of it then it must be shit. This is a fair assumption and the film wasn't successful at the box office. Mystery Men, however, is an exception to the rule.

It's like a parody of the Watchmen (though it pre-dates it), with three superheroes with crap non-powers trying to unsuccessfully establish themselves on the superhero scene monopolised by Captain Amazing (Kinnear).

Captain Amazing is so amazing that he has run out of decent bad guys to fight and as such is losing his product endorsements (he has product badges all over his superhero costume - Pepsi gets a particularly nice wee bit of exposure but I still think it tastes like someone dropped a bar of soap in a vat of Cola).

This leads to him overseeing the release of his greatest foe Casanova Frankenstein (Geoffry Rush). Things don't go according to plan and Captain Amazing ends up Frankenstein's captive.

This clears the way for our inept superheroes to save the day but even they realise need some extra help. The scene where they try out new members of the gang looks like a typical Saturday in a comic book geek's backyard. (Pencil Head and Son of Pencil head being two who sadly don't make the grade).

Kel Mitchell deserves a mention as the superhero with the silliest power: Invisible Boy, who can only turn invisible when no one is looking at him, though he has strong competition from the rest of the cast.

It builds up to a nice fun goodies vs baddies set piece that gives some big old chuckles and we don't mind the ending being predictable at all because hey it's a parody (but not in the shit lazy way that Hollywood has become all too accustomed to producing in recent years - Wayans brothers you have a lot to answer for).

All in all this was a fun few hours spent having a few chuckles and I didn't feel deep once, thank fuck.

Gumtree - Missed Connections, No Connections

One of my late night pursuits is having a wee giggle to myself about the poor lonely folk that write up on Gumtree Missed Connections. I always read the Belfast section, mostly because I'd like to see someone I know mentioned on there sometime but also because I'd maybe like to see some lonely sap looking for me. I would have a good giggle and show it to my girlfriend and we'd laugh and maybe send them a jokey email back telling them I wanted to meet them in a lonely part of town at night and have them lifted by the cops for stalking me.

This is very cruel? Isn't it?

No, it isn't.

Here's why.

You see most people on here are looking for these "stunning" people they see when they're limping all lonely about the city and they're too afraid to talk to them. You see if they went up and said something along the lines of "Hey baby you're so hot, sex me now. I like it wild!" then maybe they'd get a slap in the face, but maybe if they just struck up a conversation with them it might not be so bad. You see good-looking people don't spend their time on Gumtree hoping that someone is looking for them (except for me), they spend their time going out and meeting people. So you've little or no chance that they'll ever read your message, at most you've just gotten something off your chest.

The other problem is this, putting up these gushing messages about how you just have to meet this person makes you sound like a bed wetter.

With this in mind I've put my own sad wee post up (see if you can guess which one it is). And maybe if you're reading this in tears saying "but I'm too shy to speak to people", then consider this; If you do speak to someone and make a dick out of yourself they probably won't remember it for too long but at least you'll have met them (which is more than you'll get posting on Missed Connections).

Plus for cash I'll come along and tell them how muther frickin' fly ass cool you are (even if you're not!) and how at a party when I open a beer, I give one to you and whatever's left is for me (but let's not go overboard I have my own cool to keep).

You gotta have rain to have rainbows! (or Fairy Liquid)

Friday I was stranded out in Ormeau Park. It had drizzled a wee bit and I thought my nice £2.50 Save the Children (I have a social conscience) umbrella was enough to withstand any onslaught the weather might throw at me.

This was proved wrong the first time I opened it. Not by the weather but by the umbrella's eagerness to "BREAK THE MOULD" and fly off like a bad tribute to all the merry chimney sweeps in Dick the Dyke's Mary Poppins.

Then it pissed down, out of pure schadenfreude, and I was left huddling under a tree thinking if that thing I heard at school about not huddling under trees in lightening storms was true (it is - just in case you think I'm a reliable source and I'm disputing it [we were all told a lot of lies at school]) and thinking I should have got in that taxi that my girlfriend offered me a lift in.

Then it stopped and I saw this (see below)



And it reminded me that we see a lot of rain in Northern Ireland but not a lot of rainbows. And I immediately thought about a metaphor for the troubles but didn't write it down for lack of a pen.

I'm sure it lives on in the hearts of the people, and in the wind that smashes into the side of cavehill and carries many a lowly scoutmaster sordid dreams (oo er!) but I forget it, (it was something to do with George W Bush being a total mutherfucker and like totally being a dick, dude I'm like into peace and stuff and if you're not then you can totally go hang with all the racists I'm going to defeat when they hear what I have to say about them the stoopid gang of asswipe mutherfuckers).

Anyways. I remembered that you need a lot of rain to get rainbows but also that you had to have a dick, to have dick in your mouth, and off I walked back towards town hoping that there were still some skaters at custom house square to have a laugh at (only when they fell really badly - other than that they were slam dunkin da funk).

Review -Pink - Fun House

It might be obvious to some of you that I'm going to slate this song from the word go. It might seem like a cheap shot: Pink is a pop star (who acts like a rock star), this is the fourth single from her album (should have stopped at three), and some other reason I don't know. Feel free to feel that way because take a pop is exactly what I'm going to do. This song annoys me. Mostly because of the main lyric. "This used to be a fun house, but now it's full of evil clowns," I feel a dull ache in my balls when I hear this line and I think a ghost has just kneed me very hard (as hard as ghosts can) because I have let the inane line become something I am focusing on, instead of all the millions of other possibilities - hot faff or things I can steal.

Mostly it's because the lyric sounds like something that Pink had to change the original line to so it could recieve mainstream radio play. You know like Britney's latest Effort "If you seek amy" where she thought she was being smart until she had to go on TV shows all over the place with nice, innofensive, pish lyrics. (If I see Amy what? What Britney? What should I do?)

What annoys me more is that I start to try to make the lyrics make some kind of sense. I start to imagine this house where Pink used to have fun but now these "evil clowns" are wandering about the place making her feel uncomfortable (but not so much that she'd leave because the lyrics suggest she's still there despite them), where did these Clowns come from and why are they there? Why aren't they being funny like the clowns I loved at the circus as a kid? Maybe she's just trying to be cool like my mate at college who said he was scared of clowns because he'd heard Johnny Depp was scared of them? Why if they don't make Pink uncomfortable enough to leave does she feel the need to tell me about them in a song? Why Pink? Why? Anyway here's the pish tune itself, just to bug the rest of you. (BTW if any of you are dancing in front of your computers then up yours).

Searching for Prostitutes in Belfast

This is the latest video for Communist Defectors Will Be Shot. This marks a change for the group since it's our last track with Eugene Reilly. Meaning that now Communist Defectors Will Be Shot is just me. This is also the last of our collaborations with Karen Eliot (the other being The Great City of Ballymena).

How you enjoy it.



For anyone who's interested the video was shot entirely on my Samsung phone camera.

The Great City of Ballymena

I've Been Stuck in Ballymena a lot recently because I'm technically homeless. It's been fine in a lot of ways, mostly because I get to see a lot of my folks and at the start of the years I was working nights and the only time I got to see any of them was when my dad went into hospital, and even then I was walking around like a zombie.

Anyways, I thought I'd use that as a great excuse to show you my tribute to my hometown The Great City of Ballymena. It was a video I made for a song I did with my electronica group Communist Defectors Will Be Shot. It's named after the time IPJ called it that on the news. He should know better because he's the MLA for here and Ballymena is a bloody town. Regardless of what it says on that fucking roundabout (WELCOME TO THE CITY OF THE SEVEN TOWERS). It actually doesn't have seven towers either (any more).

Anyway, here's the vid. When I made it I thought the links were tenuous at best, now I'm not so sure there are any at all. Watch it and let me know if you see any.

The Adventures of Boring Tom - Part Two

One day Boring Tom went to the shop to buy crisps.

"Cheese and Onion again?" said the woman behind the counter.
"I think I might try a different flavor for a change," Boring Tom said. "What colour are Prawn Cocktail?"

"They're the pink ones."

"Pink?" said Boring Tom. "That's an astounding colour. I think I'll just stick with Cheese and Onion."



Artwork by Ryan O"Neill check more of his work out here.

Twilight - A Review

I was playing the good boyfriend the other night when my sweet honey pie said: "Let's watch twilight," and I said, "Aye okay then."

That's actually a bit of a lie. I was interested to see it. I know I'm not in the target audience (teenage girls) but I've always had a liking for the whole Vampire mythos and have enjoy the genre very much.

So down we sat to watch the Twilight! (or just Twilight, I've a habit of prefixing nouns with 'the').

Both of us had the best intentions but I was very happy when at about an hour in my girlfriend asked if I was enjoying the film as little as she was.

We kept watching anyway and talked as it progressed about what we thought was wrong with the film.

Firstly, the main female Bella is unremarkable as a person. Apart from Edward (the hot Vampire boy) not being able to read her thoughts (and he can read everyone elses) and he wants to drink her blood (but won't) there's no real substance to their relationship.

They have nothing really linking them except for the relationship itself, which is a thinly disguised metaphor for not having premarital sex.

Bella spends a lot of the film looking slightly startled (as you would if you found out you were dating someone who wanted to drink your blood - regardless of how much they say they won't actually do it).

She is rude to her friends. When she arrives new in town and doesn't know anyone. A few people at her new school become her friends (okay some of the guys want to diddle her but it's better than getting your deep wee head flushed down the bogs as is usually par for the course). She doesn't really give a fuck what they're at and when her and Edward go to the prom all her mates are happy to see her (even though they think she's dating a wanker) and wave hello. At which point Edward and Bella decide to fuck off without even speaking. How deep?

Edward in fact spends a lot of the film being deep and taking about five minutes of deep shaking to get a sentence out.

Late on in the film he introduces Bella to his family (the other vampires) and they all go and play baseball - like radical, cool, slamming funk baby, get down. The family have very little substance but since Twilight is the first in a franchise we can assume that later films will flesh them out (I'm sooooo witty), so for now we can let this go, although it's a bit frustrating to just have them all dumped on us all at once. It's like being left in a room full of people you don't know at a party to find that the only thing they talk about with any excitement about is Jane Austen novels (I think Jane Austen is shit you see).

All in all the film looks like like a marketing conspiracy involving Gap, John Frieda, Max Factor and the inbred society of America. Twilight is also a bit flat and non-descript as a title, the film would have been better named Hot Deep Teenage High School Vampire Love Movie I'm surprised my main man Snoop Dizzle didn't make an appearance in a jacuzzi wiv a bottle of fine Don Brizzle and some hoes, just to squeeze in whatever potential audience group still available to them.

Though I think if I was a cool teen (and at 28 I haven't been one in a while [there are some who'd say I never was one, but they'd sound funny saying it because of their broken jaws]) I'd probably not want to watch Twilight, I'd probably want to listen to Little Boots instead because I'd be more impressed by a role model who sounds like she heard a Goldfrapp album and said: "Hold on, I could do that."

And there's nothing wrong with that, because Goldfrapp suck anyway. Ellen Page even says so in Hard Candy and I'd trust her because she spends her time visiting paedophiles and convincing them to kill themselves (actually watch Hard Candy instead of Twilight).

So yeah, Twilight like totally sucks ass dude!



NB Anyone who had any doubt about me being a cool teen take a look at this. I was very cool (okay I was in my early twenties here but you can still see it) and deep too (I'd have made a great vampire).

Lost in the Forest

Just got back from visiting my folks in Ballymena with my good lady friend. It was a fun time and did not involve any bad stuff. Except one, me with my good lady friend getting lost in Glenariff Forest Park near dark. I had ran about the forest as a kid and my man ego dictated that I still knew my way.

Conversations with my good lady like:

Good Lady Friend: Are you sure this is the way?
Me: Sure, trust me on this.

were all too reminiscent of a bad remake of spooky movies like The Blair Witch Project and bad (see good) Hammer Horror.

I was just about to give up on my man ego and suggest retracing our steps, another throwback to Blair Witch, when we ran into a nice couple, another throw back to bad (see good) Hammer Horror films.

The nice couple were going our way and let us tag along. Very nice indeed, especially when it turned out that my man ego had been way off and missed the way back completely.

Once safely back though and all thoughts of Blair Witch and bad (see good) Hammer Horror films safely out of our heads we'd a nice pint in a country pub.

In retrospect our getting lost had been good for two reasons though and that was firstly, the part of the forest I'd wanted to show my sweet honey pie was down by the river when the waterfalls and the huge rocks make it look like a jungle and secondly, the heavy rains that day had washed down through peat bogs making the river look like Guinness. Really beautiful.

Though when we were walking about lost this song by The Cure was going though my head the whole time (and yes that is Robert Smith):

The Adventures of Boring Tom - Part One

One day Tom was sitting watching TV. The band Metallica came on and played a song.

"This is what an electric guitar sounds like," Tom shouted, inspired.

The year was 1993. 30 years too late.



Artwork by Ryan O'Neill check out more of his work here.

Bungo, Brawling with Cops and Cormac - at last

Last night I was back in Belfast having been absent for a few days and I was very happy to be hanging out with my good lady friend (see girlfriend). We decided to go down to La Boca where Geoff Gatt runs an open mic accoustic night.

We got there late but just in time to hear a few numbers by Accoustic Dan, and the last act (a guy called Cormac - sorry didn't get his last name). Anyways, Cormac played a good set and I was speaking to Geoff about him. Geoff said he used to play around town years ago but that he'd been in Liverpool for the past few years.

For some strange reason something in my head clicked and I thought of a number I had in my phone stored as 'Liverpool'.

Now the reason I have this number is because of a dare's game I invented for the SPART ACTION GROUP called Bungo.

The rules of Bungo are pretty easy and involve:

1 Dice
some paper and pens
a bag
a lot of balls (metaphorical of course -ladies can play too!)

So to start with everyone writes some dares and puts them in the bag (there's no set rules on numbers but enough so that everyone will end up with a few dares).

Now at this point I'll tell you that it was in the rules that you could refuse to do a dare if it was illegal or risky to your health. (If you refused for any other reason you had to do a forefit). Despite this clause we all nearly got arrested for our daring deeds.

Then we begin, everyone roles the dice (I know it's die but, like, fuck off) and the highest number goes first, it then goes clockwise from them.

Role a 1 - Pick a dare out of the bag
Role a 2 - Put a dare back into the bag (if you've no dares then you just pass)
Role a 3 - Pass a dare on to your left
Role a 4 - Pass a dare on to your right
Role a 5 - Select a player to give a dare to
Role a 6 - Miss a go.

The dice rolling stops when the bag is empty. It is at this point that everyone does their dares, taking it in turn to do them.

Two of the dares in the game involved going to someone else's house.

One (which I got), involved going to a random house and trying to sell them something.

the other (which Ben Craig got), involved knocking someone's dorr and running away.

Ben and I of course had balls of steel, so off we went to do our dares.

I picked a random house in the neighbourhood and tried to sell a wee crappy pink plastic dinosaur to the guy who answered.

Ben decided when it came time to do his dare that he would pick the same house. So off we all went to make sure he didn't welsch.

Ben indeed rapt the door very hard (though not hard enough to cause structural damage) and we ran laughing down the drive. Where upon our way out was blocked by a car in the drive.

At this point a group of angry 40 something year olds got out and grabbed us. I fucked some dude on his head and my mate the grid got bounced off a car and my other mate Paul was kneed in the balls by some half-wit who thought we'd murdered her kids (it was still during the throws of the Madeline McCann news story so every parent in the country was on the lookout for murderous paedophiles).

Anyways it all got very nasty and the cops were called. When the cops showed up they couldn't accept that we'd just been playing a party game. (partly because we wouldn't take them back to the house - because there was a six foot wide pentagram drawn on the hallway carpet in sugar - Yum Yum).

Anyways, at the end of all this we got away scott free (which is nice when you haven't committed a crime).

Now the final twist. One of Ben's dares was also to send a random text from my phone to someone on his friends list. So he did. This person he said didn't live in Belfast but in Liverpool and standing there before me in La Boca last night might possibly have been the mystery number.

I called it, it was. We had a brief but pleasant chat and he took the whole dares game in the jovial mood it had been intended. Then he left. A nicer, happier ending to the single game of Bungo ever played, than the reckless street brawl that had spoiled my memories of what was supposed to be a happy occasion.

Six Degrees of Gerard McKeown

I was out at the cinema the other night with my girlfriend watching Last Chance Harvey (the new Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson film, pretty good so it is) and it occured to me for the first time in the past two years (the time since it came to be) that I actually have six degrees of Kevin Bacon.

See two years ago I was in a UTV production called Agnes Jones which starred Bronagh Gallagher. Here it is. I come in around the 4:45 mark. Blink and you'll miss me (but you can also bite me).

Bronagh Gallagher was in Pulp Fiction with John Travolta

John Travolta was in the remake of Hairspray with Michelle Pfeiffer

Michelle Pfeiffer was in Scarface with Al Pacino

Al Pacino is in Heat with Robert DeNiro

Robert De Niro is in Sleepers with Kevin Bacon.

Anyone who wants to bite me, please do.

Poetry on the Bus

So I was on the bus from Ballymena today and there was this spide that sat down opposite me in the seat. I was writing away in my notepad and he asks me if I want to play him at Xes and Ozes. So I said no (because I didn't). He asks me if he can have a piece of paper anyway. I ripped him out a sheet and gave him a spare pen and he went and played a game with the guy behind him.

He asks me what I'm writing.
"Poetry," I say. Maybe not the wisest thing to say to a bus with a lot of spides on it but let's face it, poetry is cool!
"Can I read it?" he asks.
"No," I answer.

That was the end of that. For about five minutes anyway until he came along and read me a poem he'd written:

"There was a boy on the bus,
he lent me a pen without a fuss,
I challenged him to a game,
but he said no, I will refrain,
but do not worry and do not fret
here's some paper and a pen pet.

Then he starts talking to the couple behind me. He then writes a poem about them. Again it rhymed, but it was a good piece. So then he asked again to read mine. How could I say no after him letting me read his own work? Now a lot of the stuff in my book at the minute is a load of crap about how I'm stressed out with work and finding somewhere new to live and snippets about my girlfriend that aren't good enough (or as good as I'd like them to be), even though no one on this bus knows who I am, I have a reputation to consider so there's going to be no reading of these.

I have a quick hoak and what do I find, none other than The Beautiful Goth! I give it to him and he starts reading it out. He only gets a few lines in before he finds the faux depth and flowerly lines to be too cack to continue. So as he gives up I finish it off to thunderous applause from the back of the bus (well the back few rows anyway). But it was a class poetry time had by all. Why can't it happen more often?

Anyway here's The Beautiful Goth if you're wondering:

I Remember Dawson's Creek

I was going to do this blog all about various aspects of pop culture that clutter my head up when I should be thinking of "deeper" things. It seemed like an easy place to start to talk about Dawson's Creek. There's one school of thought that if you lived in Dawson's Creek, Pacey would have been the only one you'd have gotten on with. I however believe this isn't so. So to disprove this I went on youtube looking for the clip where Pacey names his boat "True Love", because let's face it, it's a very empty barrell you're scrapping the bottom of if you want to hang around with a guy who names his boat "True Love". Asshole.
Let's imagine you're at the boat launch. Pacey saunters up with the rest of the witless asshole gang. Dawson's there with his big oompah loompah head babbling on about some pish movie and how it reflects on the essence of everything his life has been leading up to til this point or some other vague pish that's designed to keep the hard on he doesn't know how to use yet at bay. Asshole. Joey's there wittering on about Xanu or some other bag of balls and Jen's there, well doing nothing, because they never really figured out how to give Michelle Williams something decent to do. Oh and Jack's there, being gay, because they never figured out how to develop his character either.
So you're there and your mate Pacey smashes a bottle of champagne over his boat and says "I name this boat True Love" and gives a half assed look of dejection at whatever Dawson's Creek lady he couldn't get it together with. And you're there trying to find someone in the crowd to share a "what an asshole?" look with. All you can find, however, is the rest of the Dawson's Creek gang beaming with pride and love at Pacey and his badly named boat.
You see, Pacey seems vaguely alright when you only see him for an hour a week, but if you were round the guy all the time you'd see him for what he really is.
It's at that point you realise that you're an asshole too because you've been spending time wondering what it would be like living on Dawson's Creek. Asshole.
Anyways, yeah I found the episode and here's the bit where they name the boat but I'd really forgotten what a moaning heap of shit it really is. Everyone there just loves being a wanker, they roll around in it all gleeful at what a load of balls they've just said.

How the fuck I made it through one episode now escapes me but there was a time that the Dawson's Creek gang were like old friends, albeit friends I was glad to have because it made me feel superior during those long dark hours of "teenage life".