Power Station

My Father told them not to take the middle part of the station out. They didn't listen and the chimneys started to move outwards to the point where it has cost millions just to hold the structure together. The asbestos has gone and so has my Father but the energy trail they left lives on.

Here comes the sun

It showers our planet with energy. That energy drives everything we taste, smell, touch, hear, see, think and feel. How little we appreciate the things that have value beyond measure.

May you never be too old to play

When we were young, everything seemed more intense, more interesting. The days were longer because we lived in the moment. It pays to be mindful. There is no past. There is no future. There is only now.

The Celestine Prophecy

The book made me think about the quantum exchanges that take place in every intimate act. There is enough energy stored in the human body to create an atomic explosion. Mind how you go.

Meet the real me

JF took one look at this self portrait and said, "You need help." He might be right.

I'm telling your Mum

That lazy git Todger, if he isn’t sleeping, he’s, well he’s... sleeping. We had a meeting at the Flabby Road studios to discuss the Comfortably Dumb tour sponsorship deal. We get some free studio time; they get an inflatable banner with the word “Flabby” on it.Seems fair. Anyway, we left the negotiating to Todger, him being the mathematician of the outfit. He only failed his math’s O Level, the rest of us got “Unclassified.” Right in the middle of his pitch, he nods off. He only woke up when his head hit the table. When he sat up with the remains of a jam doughnut glued to his hooter, we knew the deal was off! We took Todger home to his Mum’s. She tells us he’s got something called Narcolepsy. He can nod off at any moment. Just then, we hear a crash coming from the driveway: Todger has kipped off while parking the van and taken out the postman on his bike and hit the garage door. “I told him to lookout,” said the postman from under the van. “He’s got Narcolepsy,” said Togger’s Mum. “Yeah, and he’s deaf,” said Dick, “It’s like in that film: Double indignity.” Just then Todger comes round and stagers out from behind the wheel. He starts shouting at the postman and then Rick starts doing all this Bruce Lee stuff. The postman thinks he’s in for a kicking. “Don’t mind him,” says Dan, “It’s just the epilepsy.” “Bloody Hell, I say, “It’s like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” “No. It’s not,” says Todger’s Mum. “It’s worse. Much worse. I’ve seen them at a gig when only Dick was left pounding on his organ.” Dick starts to say something crude but I throw a fist full of letters at him. “That’s illegal,” shouts the postman who threatens to call the police before he notices Dan, dressed in his Roy Rogers outfit, going for his six-shooter. Todger starts whistling the theme tune from Fist Full of Dollars. “Go ahead, make my day,” says Dan, metamorphosing his characters and confusing the hell out of the postman. The postman’s eyebrows furrow. The sound of gunfire fills the air. Everyone dives for cover. The smoke clears to the sight of the postman running down the street while Dick, Todger, Rick and Dan are being attacked by Todger’s Mum with a broom. A few days in and I am wondering if it’s time to leave the band before I end with a Jack Nicholson-style lobotomy. Whatever next?

Rehearse this

Are these guys serious or what? They want rehearsals in fancy dress! I had to drag my gear out of the car in broad daylight dressed as Nelson. That twat of a keyboard player, Dick Sleight (of hand), kept shouting, “Kiss me Hard-on,” right in the middle of Us and Them. If he does it during the gig, I’ll give him Dark Side of the Moon straight in the kisser. During lunch we discussed names for the band over a curry. I suggested Pillar of Wind on account of it being a Pink Floyd track and the smell emanating from the general direction of Rick Monsoon, the bummer (sorry drummer). By the time Todger Voters(local politician), the bass player, is throwing up in the bog, “It’s vindaloo in the loo time,” shouts Dick, we have decided on Comfortably Dumb as the name. They think it a fitting tribute to one of the great Floyd tracks. I prefer to think of it in terms of the other guitarist, Dan Glamour, who keeps noodling all over my vocals with that multi-million watt amp stack of his. I offer to re-arrange his peddle effects cables. He offers to re-arrange my features. In the interests of band politics, I offer to drink him under the table in the boozer. We end up pissed and comfortably numb and dumb in the pub with all our gear locked in the rehearsal room overnight. That is until Todger hits on the fun idea of breaking in through the skylight. It was going well until he fell through the bloody thing and ended up in the jewelers next door. Burglar alarm. Police. Meat wagon. Fingerprints. Criminal record. Bollocks! No job and now a Criminal Record...