shamoo

Oooh, all the office is a-buzz with Michael Jackson, the pedo race traitor who sold lots of records as his grip on reality slipped from his little sparkly-gloved hand like his fortunes. I was never a Michael Jackson fan, didn’t like a single one of his records but I was very impressed by his dancing stuff, for me, though, that never really compensated for his not being properly investigated for child abuse… actually, fuck it, he abused children and got away with it. And he was unable to correctly pronounce the title of his best selling album, indeed, the best selling album in history, insisting instead of calling it ‘Triller,’ what a tit!

I had a long lunch with my boss, a colleague and a preferred client. We were summoned to a posh (though not overpriced by any means) steak house near Oxford Circus. It was fucking hot on the tube and by the time we arrived my appetite was non-existent, this wasn’t helped by my feeling fraught from the journey punctuated by massive delays on account of some tool dying at Warren Street.

I’ve never really been a huge fan of steak, I mean it’s okay but I’m much happier with lamb. The waiter was kind enough to show us different cuts and advise us of the best way it should be prepared, I opted for a Scottish aged sirloin, medium rare was the best way to enjoy it, apparently. Half a chest was delivered 15 minutes later, my steak was double the size of the combined quantity of my lunch companions, my heart sank, possibly preparing to explode. I began to eat, it was okay, made better with béarnaise sauce but it wasn’t like eating a rack of lamb, or a kebab. I made it half way through and was forced to retire, someone suggested a doggy bag… I agreed somewhat reluctantly.

Following the sultry trip back to the office (my companions now suffering from too much wine –I had abstained believe or not) I did a spot of work and then nipped off early to sort my passport out at the local main post office. By the time I joined the queue I was sweating and angry, then further infuriated by the post office person informing me that I had to re-fill out my form and because ‘I’d changed so much’ (shorter hair, beard) the passport shots had to be counter-signed. A complete waste of time… but a fortuitous turn of events as I learnt yesterday evening I’m going to Italy with IC mid-July. This now mean I’m going to have to get my passport done in person, next week. Join me then for some more protracted moaning and aggressive annoyance.

But before all that it’s worth mentioning that cold sirloin steak thinly sliced and shoved in a cheese-bread roll with some mustard and horseradish is a fucking sensation. Gerry’s chart, a tune and an earnest desire that your weekends are as joyous as the aforementioned sandwich follows, right here, in the form of this code GC+ED=JW.

Eee Hee, Ow!

NO ARTIST SONG TITLE LAST WEEK WEEKS ON
30 Steel Panther Death To All But Metal 19 5
29 Kasabian Fire 23 9
28 Florence And The Machine Rabbit Heart NE 1
27 The Maccabees Can You Give It NE 1
26 Papa Roach Lifeline 28 3
25 Fightstar Never Change NE 1
24 Marilyn Manson Arma…Geddon 14 8
23 Linkin Park New Divide 29 4
22 The Prodigy Warrior’s Dance 16 10
21 The Enemy Sing When You’re In Love 24 2
20 Marmaduke Duke Silhouettes NE 1
19 Silversun Pickups Panic Switch NE 1
18 The Yeah You’s 15 Minutes 30 2
17 Empire Of The Sun We Are The People 9 7
16 Freemasons Heartbreak Make Me A Dancer 15 4
15 Placebo For What It’s Worth 10 8
14 Gallows The Vulture (Act 2) 8 11
13 Kings Of Leon Notion 17 3
12 The Manchester Orchestra I’ve Got Friends 13 4
11 Enter Shikari Juggernauts 6 6
10 Billy Talent Rusted From The Rain 22 2
9 Depeche Mode Peace 12 3
8 Graham Coxon Sorrow’s Army 11 6
7 Maximo Park Questing Not Coasting 18 2
6 Gallows London Is The Reason 7 3
5 Blue October Dirt Room 3 5
4 Baddies Holler For My Holiday 5 4
3 The Gossip Heavy Cross 1 6
2 Shinedown Second Chance 4 5
1 Yeah Yeah Yeahs Heads Will Roll 2 4