Last night ... I dreamed somebody ... EEEEUUUWWWW!!!

In my case, I don't know. I think selective amnesia may have its advantages.

Also Nigella Lawson. She sat me down on a big blue sofa, gave me chocolate cake and then kissed me. No where near as bad as Fred Durst, just mildly surprising.

I think Kate has an even better one than that, eww. But she's lost control again (hint).

yes, i once had a dream that i had sex with ian curtis and my mother walked in. ian turned around and shook his full used spunk receptacle at my mother, who screamed and ran from the room.

i am actually contemplating developing a sick, disgusting, and intensely disturbing crush on j. casablancas under the deluded idea that it would be fun to have such a self abasing and degrading sexual dementia. or, erm, maybe i'm just bored or something.

but think of all the things we have in common... (it's the lemsip talking, i tells ya...)

i think this is a brilliant idea. someone talk me out of it, please.

Oh, Rosemary.

Oh no! I still haven't got round to ebaying their first single yet. I was hoping it might bring me untold riches to compensate for the shame of owning it in the first place (I blame friend TK, for no particular reason except that he asked if I had an opinion on them because the NME was hyping them and I couldn't bear not to have an opinion yet, and also my habit of buying every new release 7" which looked even vaguely promising, which means I now have shedloads of really REALLY dire singles that I probably can't even give away).

But it couldn't really be a good sign that them writing two new songs was such a rare occurrence that it made front cover news of the NME.

there's such a tiny window of opportunity with these publicity blowjob novelty hype bands, and if you miss it, yer screwed.

hell, the nme would report it as a news story if one of them got a new haircut. i just can't wait until the lame white indie boy fro is out of style again...

Ha ha, actually the WORST part of the Dubya dream was that I've had that dream TWICE.

i am EXTREMELY upset that suzy is making me miss the first half hour of the blessed TIME TEAM in order to watch bloody stenders. i live in an extended episode of stenders, why do i have to watch it on the tv? ESPECIALLY when time team (arrrr, this is clearrrrrly dirrrrt) is over on c4.

so i shall spend the entire length of stenders searching for extremely unattractive pictures of 'joolz' c. my future husband.

look, i am posing with BOOKS in order to appeal more to my future wife, kate. do you think it will WURK?!?!?

http://www.thestrokes.com/photos/5c/5c31.jpg

http://www.thestrokes.com/photos/pola/pola7.jpg

i'm going to lie down and throw a strop (and show my spare tire) until she marries me!

http://www.thestrokes.com/photos/5c/5c44.jpg

(I really think i've caught a contact buzz, this is more than overdose on lemsip lunacy...)

can we put joolz on the missy elliot diet? do you think the nme would run whole articles about that?

Too much stuff swhirling around in my head, and too many things happening at once. Fact of coinciding with fear of bad reviews means a lot, considering Strokes are a band I've slagged off more than any other band in the world. Maybe this is a "everybody's trash to somebody, baby" lesson in humility. Maybe Joolz symbolises my naked lust for fame and success and I'm trying to recconcile myself with this. It's also no accident that he keeps showing up in my dreams at the same time that my brother reappears IRL, so maybe it's part symbolic hatred of/attempt to recconcile with those aspects of my family background that I loathe the most. Not to mention the fact that my trust fund finally hit empty exactly the day of our record release party, cueing swearing at bank tellers screaming "come ON - please clear this publishing check, I've got a record release party tomorrow!" In the dream last night, Joolz' Red Stripe shirt read "Trustafarai and Red Stripe" so maybe all Suzy's ribbing is starting to actually hit home.

God, why don't Freud and Jung have subchapters about the subtexts of what certain popstars appearing in your dreams mean? Pop stars are the new heroes and gods, the new archetypes, the new silver screens for projection of our own personalities.

I think I'm going to email my brother.

(lock the door this time...)

(I, too hated Suede when they first came out.. probably becuase I worked in a record store and couldn't get away from the hypometer. The moment I actually *heard* them, I fell in love. The diametric opposite of the Strokes, who I heard and hated way before the hype ever reached me... so there!)

http://www.thelollies.co.uk/heartbreak.jpg

It's not my fault the poor boy is pining for me. Pining, I tells ya, PINING!!!

http://www.nme.com/media/images/READING_strokes_julianA_L.jpg

My ass is smaller than that. Right, Suzy? Please reassure me...

I just randomly googled and found this story by a girl who actually eBayed a photo of Joolz' crotch. It was a good thing it was his crotch, and he was not turned around, because his ASS would have been so large it would not have fit on a single frame of film. No, not even panoramic view. The things you can find in google when you're bored...

Julian just seems...dopey. You'd think with his father doing all of those models he'd pull out something better from the gene pool than that.

You could make a lot of money off of Centaur-Ass children though! Kind of like Bat Boy.

http://home.freeuk.net/rattail2/pic18/lol705.jpg

And what, STANDING STOCK STILL HANGING ON MIC STAND FOR DEAR LIFE COZ YOU ARE TOO DRUNK TO MOVE = better stage move than KISS-style scissor kicks that let lecherous photographer blokes photograph your knickers?

Yeah, maybe where you come from, BETTER is a synonym for SHIT...

In the meantime, it's not easy to tell from the selection of pics, but Kate, I think you do have a smaller bum than Julez.

Someone else post me some pictures, please.

The task I set myself is to listen to the ENTIER Velvets box-set, in order, from start to finish, skipping niether the crap demos nor the BAD ALBUM I REFUSE TO HAVE IN THE HOUSE and seeing how long it takes before i go mentalist. Who thinks I can do it? Ha ha hah ha!

Norman, that link dinnae work. Where is my black turtleneck? Where is my pointy boots? where is my sterling morison wig? (he elbowed me at Maxwells, he did. I forgot about the not washing my elbow Ever. AGain. bit about two weeks later.)

On the contrary! I'd sell my soul to look like you, except souls happen to be a glut on the market right now (election aftermath).

let me go and dig through the box adn see if i can find this hillarious long versino of which you speak. we know NOTHING of this in the icen forests of hoxton...

Ha-hem. What is red medicine? I am confused. My grandfather (rest his soul and his attempts to set up trust funds) and I used to have this secret language called "Hopera" which consisted of us singing everything to each other in overblown operatic styling. Especially if we were stuck at red lights in which case we'd have to sing RED-LIGHT-ITIS, RED-LIGHTITIS until the lights changed and then we'd sing GREEN MEDICINE! GREEN MEDICINE! GREEN MEDICINE! very fast Wagner style until my mum would threaten to put us out of the car on the side of teh Henry Hudson Xperssway.

OH JESUS CHRIST, THIS IS FUCKING AWFUL WELSH FOLKROCK BOLLIX GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF OR I'M GOING TO GO ALL ANNE ROBINSON ON YOUR ARSES NOW!!!

Who the fuck let John Cale get away with this? Now I remember why i don't listen to disc1. Help me, dear god, help me, blast this from my consciousness. where is Chelsea Grrrls?

Gah, this is awful this disk. I listened to it, like, once, when I got the boxset as a birthday present, and took it off very quickly to skip to the next disk, and forgot why I never listened to it. My god, does Lou want to be Baawwwwwhb Dylan or what? Get that friggin harmonica off there, and go sing abotu some smack or something.

CHRIST!!!

Somebody remind me why I like this band again?

And now I've skipped forward to TEMPTATION INSIDE YOUR HEART which is the ebst, song ever recorded, EVAH, which I will play 22 times in a row, until i have no concept of any other music.

I've always wondered if I could make it through a boxset of any band. And the answer is... no. Hey, if I make myself anotehr white russian as strong as those last two, i mite even dig out those strokes demos and see how far i get before i have to puke. TOERUB!!! TOERUB!!! TOERUBBBBB!!!!!

(and Sterling had a LOVELy arse, I might add.)

I know JB's not a band but come on! Star Time!

Funny, how I can't find an ACTUAL photo of Joolz' ass. Even where he is in PRIME ass-displaying poses, there always seems to be somehting inconvenient in the way, like ... beer bottles ... random cactuses (cacti?) and other band members (hunh hungh she said members, is there going to be some MAN LUV going on here or what?)

This is really upsetting.

No limit to how many times you can listen to the same Velvets track? (please, nota bene, I have heard this song THOUSANDS of times in the past year alone, and too much is never alone, I'll go back to listening to it as soon as this Crystals album is over)

Or else, the strategic hiding of Joolz' ass? Is this purposeful hiding to protect us from its TERRIBLE LUST-INDUCING PROPERTIES FROM WHICH NO (WO)MAN IS SAFE?!?!?

Which ass hath grater powers? Ju-Lo or J-Lo? FITE!!!

Ju-Lo and his magical ass. now coming to rival Harry Potter at a G-Plex multimovie near YOU!!!

help me.

julian spaceman

Boxcubed, why are you DOING this to me?!?!?

I ... UUUUHHHHH... is that Julian, or is that Jason?

::Kate's head explodes::

I'm sorry, I really can't process this data. DOes not compute.

"You know he's from another country, living in anotehr world..."

Urm. I have no way to deal with this visual evidence. except complain. BUT HIS BAND IS CRAP!!! HOW DARE HE!!!

I better slow down on these white russians, I am losing all sense of reason.

> Super EW, Kate! This time you've gone too far! WHen you start
> having erotic drea,s about chaps in bands you DISLIKE... I hope
> it's not the start of a trend. I can see you and "Joolz" (shudder)
> double-dating with Drew Barrymore and "Fabrizio" (shudder). Go on,
> get his phone number. It can't be that hard!

This is what I needed to hear all along. Self loathing fuel, yeah yeah yeah. Heartbreaker, hipshaker, troublemaker, yeah yeah yeah.

"I said, Baby, I'd really like to date ya,
He said, have your A&R guy call my press agent..."

More white russians or depression, what should I choose?

(Plus you are making me want to buy booze. EVIL. Sigh.)

(though actually quite charming)

Another hour till the upstairs opens/gets interesting before which it's not even worth going down. Sigh. Is this even worth brushing my hair for?

(I was good and only bought mineral water. Sigh. And now to stare at the free job ads paper and wonder why the hell basic low-paid bottom-of-rung soul-destroying telemarketing requires more qualifications than I have and years of experience. People with all that still want to do it? What?)

Even when it's just to say "Yeah, well, I heard you just got signed to Sony, well, we just two stars in Q and well, we're out on tour so, erm... I bet you;re married by now, but ... erm... do you still look like Dave Davies and play that fabulous left hand Hofner bass that I thought was a revelation to play upside down...?"

I should go and braid my hair or something.

i have had dreams (more accurately described as nightmares actually) with um...celebrities i would NEVER touch even if was paid and promised an original vinyl copy of tigermilk and lifetime supply of godiva chocolates. i am way too embarrased to admit who they were, but i still, to this day, cannot come up with any good reason of why i had dirty dreams about them (one of them more than once).

This disturbs the HELL out of me.

http://www.rockyhorror.com/images/meatloaf.jpg

Also Nigella Lawson. She sat me down on a big blue sofa, gave me chocolate cake and then kissed me.

If everybody could have this dream, the world would be a much better place.

Something about my whole flat is next morning sticky right now. My favourite bartender at Mother apologised for bouncer beating the crap out of me last time and gave me free drinks. Hooray. But the next morning is 48 hours later thanks to the help of nasty horrible stimulants, yuck. I've found Nuggets Volume 3 ... in the Yo La Tengo case, but the YLT CD is actually sealed inside my stereo with dried white russian stick, and I can't get it out. (CD player amazingly enough still works, like my brother's car stereo which got a Slowdive cassette stuck in it for an entire winter...) One of the Random Gay Boys, I believe, poured a white russian down my stereo because I yanked Peaches off and put YLT on instead. Poo! They left in a huff, and I actually persuaded a minicab driver to drive me all the way out to Cheshunt to see the house where I grew up, and back, for no apparent reason. And lay with teeth chattering and bad comedown paranoid, shaking in bed for three hours realising that I had to go to rehearsal trying to come up with reason that they shouldn't sack me, but the sympathy vote due to my extreme death hacking coughing fits worked in my favour, as did the fact that my voicebox being so torn out from bronchitis and nasty stimulants enabled me to howl TWEE MOTHERFUCKER during songs in wonderful Iggy Pop growl which cracked them up no end, especially when combined with random interspersals of my Paraplegic Cranberry Clinton (my blues name) impressions "Hack up a lung (DUR DER DUR DER) spit in in the bin (DUR DER DUR DER) I believe I'll go back home and start drinking AGIN" and so on and soforth until I had to huff at laughing bandmates and laughing studiohand that just you wait until my feted blues solo project with Yoko Casablancas, just see if I don't, huff! We'll call it Next Morning Sticky, see if we don't! The only reason I am not sacked is cause at least I make people laugh with my stupid pathetic rock'n'roll hyjinx... honestly ...

Does anyone know a really good way of getting dried white russian stick off CDs? Cause much as I love the album, I'd hate to have to listen to nothing else for the rest of time...

If it makes you feel better Kate, you were right to throw out the cd. You should sell it before its expirey date sometime early in the new year.

I didn't throw out the CD. Did I? I could have sworn I saw it this morning while in cleaning frenzy. Dammit, there can't be a backlash yet. That disc is my pension plan!

Do Canadians not take coke or something?

I'm now wondering about the Casablancass/CD spinning trick myself now. Hrmmmmmm.

My landlady just found another almost empty bottle of vodka downstairs and brought it up saying "Here, I think this is yours..." WEEX!!!

What happens if I google "julian casablancas ass"?

Just a debut out? Who are you talking about? I'm talking about that NYC-based three piece who write songs about ... erm ... scooby doo and cocaine, too. (I think it was them ... was it then? It's not even my social life and I can't keep up.)

I think it was them ... I can't imagine who else it would have been. Dunno, I'm not so sure now, and I'm spreading libellous rumours about the wrong popstar. The Peaches bit is true, though. ;-)

Can we go back to talking about JC's ass, please? (I'm not Jesus, but I have the same initials...)

Is it too early to go to bed yet?

GETCHAGETCHAGETCHAGETCHAGETCHAGETCHAGETCHAGETCHAGETCHAGETCHA!

Then again, if you wear leather trousers too much, the ass gets all stretched out anyway. I remember when I got mine, they were skintight and dead sexy and now they give me sagging Julianbutt which upsets me.

And if you think your ass sweats in leather trousers, you should try wearing totally vegan pleather trousers at a gig. I made the mistake of wearing a pair at our record release party, and my god, I sweat so much the damned things stuck to me! Never again! Never again!

Aaaaaaaasssssssss...

However, your musical logic = DEEPLY FLAWED. Having a fat ass is indication that you have not had the exercise of SHAKING THAT ASS. I used to have this singer who told me that she knew that we were "on it" when she felt like there was this special ray coming out of my bass which made her shake her ass. IE, when we were tight and we were grooving, her ass would twitch uncontrollably and the audience would fall about dancing and things would be good.

Ass-largeness is a sign of ass-shaking inactivity, therefore, the Strokes suck, as proved by SCIENCE.

Joolz will never inherit the earth (The Elite Modeling agency, maybe, but the earth? no.) But he can still inherit my ass...

In conclusion: the size of the ass you have may be connected to diet and activity, but whether you have an ass or not -- and whether it's pillowy or wide or bulging or crackless -- is another quality entirely.

You know what other singer from a popular New York rock band has a big ass? The guy from Interpol.

Indie-rock and ass-size hath no correlation in the way in which you are trying to imply.

Good ass comes from ass-shaking. (Oh, yes, and genetics. And walking, hence Me and Suzy's Walking Plan, which we seem to have forgotten this week.) And ass-shaking is the result of dancing to GOOD MUSIC.

(What am I on about? I LIKE boys with NO ASS. Maybe this is the point. Asslessness = good music, therefore the Strokes suck, and I should stop fancying Joolz no matter how hard I am trying to degrade myself and/or my sexuality.)

Good GOD, I need to get some sleep. I can't even form incoherant half-logic any more.

well I had to eat and I wasn't going to think about Joolz rump and my turkey sandwich at the same time.

How far is it from Back Bacon to ASS BACON??!?

Is it the TeenageUSA Teaches of Peaches ep? Im sure you could milk some poor German teen for it.

Nope, I'm not interested.

The idea of Joolz jism ... EEEUUUWWW!!! I'm grossing myself out again. This is really entertaining, see how far I can get into psyching myself out that I really do want to have sex with him, until I actually think about ... having to have sex with him, and getting all icked out. I like the concept of the crush a hell of a lot more than the idea of the execution thereof.