"There's nothing but shite on the TV today..."

Literally.

Morgan decided today to move her nappy-investigation activities from the confines of her cot to the living room.
She was sitting eating her lunch, as I prepared mine. I came back through to the living room to witness... The horror.

Seriously, I had to SCRAPE shit off the TV screen!
And her seat. And her table. And the floor. And her.

Straight into the shower ( I might invest in a power-washer, such as one would use on an automobile. ) for a jet-wash then into the wash with all her clothes - And anything that had been nearby.
Half a bottle of Orange Cleanser and most of a bog-roll later, all was well.

The day went OK from then on - Few random FireFight phone calls, a bit of tidying up, some playing with Morgan, some reading of Dr Seuss.
I put her to bed around half seven. She sat and happily watched her Bedtime Video.
Usually, she nods off about 10 minutes into it. Tonight, she was still yelping and singing to herself 40 minutes in.
Then she started crying.

I figured she was thirsty - It's pretty hot still.
Went in with juice...




... And I've just finished cleaning her cot again, changing her bedclothes, jetwashing her.

Yup. Poop again.

She's now wearing a pair of trousers with a built-in "belt", tied as tight as seems comfy so she can't get them off.
I may resort to gaffa-taping her nappies onto her arse if this method fails.

Not amused with this state of affairs at all.

Intense.

... Yet shorter than you expect.

Sunday morning brought yet more "Steve hassling everyone to get the fuck up, as he really doesn't wanna miss _____, and Steve getting more annoyed at other folk's seeming indifference and lollygagging".
It was worth the snapping in the end though, as Rollins was ( And is ) hilarious.
I'd heard this material before ( Mostly ) but it was still excellent to hear it again - Apparently Big Hank himself was nervous about this show as he'd never done a spoken word performance at a festival like this before.
He needn't have worried. The tent was crammed, and he went down a storm.

Spent way too much time later on fannying around at the O2 tent... Better to spend hours waiting in a queue to get our phones charges than to expect everyone to stick to any sort of meeting arrangements.
Some wee dicks kept jumping on the tent, too. Whether this was connected to the pump that kept it inflated burning out and the tent collapsing just as we went to get our phones back, we don't know.
So I missed Nightwish - All 4 songs that the coudl play as THEY were late.

Kat got a kickass jacket - Looks like someone skinned Grover or Cookie Monster and turned him into a coat!
Julie got the Oscar variant, but with black stripes.

Had to miss half of Slipknot, as I wanted to see Therapy? in another tent.
Worth it. They ruled.

Also missed In Flames, American Head Charge and a few others I wanted to catch.
Next year, I'm taking radios, and I'm not gonna bother about watching bands on my own. I'm THERE to see bands. Not to get pissed and mess around.
NExt year, Steve's on a MISSION. ( Assuming the lineup's good. )

System Of A Down - I'm gutted on Kat's behalf as she and Julie were so tired that they disappeared back to the tents early.
Shame, as they rocked. Really - One of the best gigs I've been at, festival or no. The planes flying low overhead only served to make it all the more atmospheric.
War's been extended and improved, and all the new material sounds amazing.
I have Mezmerise. Can't wait for Hypnotise.

Failed yet again to engage in much post-bands festival fun. Simply too shattered.
More evidence to support the idea that having a plan is good.

The drive back up was pretty good...
Ruth decided to go into the back to catch up on sleep, so I got the front for most of the journey.
Some half decent service station food, and some top banter meant that all was well.

So... This is Donington, eh?

Vonnie parked up in the disabled car-park ( She has a badge... Or at least her car does. It was almost empty anyway, so t'was all good. ) and I was shown to our tents.
Dumped my gear, and texted Kat to see where she was. I was looking forward to watching the Mad Capsule Markets with her.
Sadly, t'was not to be. She and Julie decide instead to head on down to the tents for a drink - Must've passed me on the way.
Repeated texts saying "Come on! MSM will be on soon!" had no effect, so I finally actually SAW Kat after the Capsules had finished and I'de been back to the tents again! She'd hooked up with two random folk she and Julie had met and was sitting by a gate drinking beer.

So we wandered round... watched some bands...

I really do think that these things are better approached with something resembling a plan, but I was outvoted.
The only really annoying part of the weekend was when Kat and Julie mentioned that they wanted to get a lip piercing each. Almost everyone present said "No, don't. You're at a festival. Even if the studio is clean, you're in a dusty dirty field for the next two days. And even if you DO clean it properly you've got what amounts to a puncture wound. Camping's tiring as it is... A wound will tire you more. And the tireder you are, the worse it will heal."

They seemed to agree.

So before Anthrax were due to play, we went to watch the BMX bowl.
Sat there for about 10 minutes, before Julie and Kat said that they were off to the toilet.
20 minutes later, they still hadn't reappeared. Semp had to go if he wanted to catch Anthrax.
I waited... and waited.
After another 15 minutes odd, I needed to piss, so I went to the bog - Then headed to meet Semp since there wae every chance that I'd have missed J&K while away.
They were not with Semp.

They finally reappeared some time later, with a "We're sorry!"
It took me a moment to notice the liprings.

I pointed out my displeasure at being left waiting like a fanny while they buggered off - Apparently "It was the only way they could give us the slip".

Yeah, OK. Hilarious.

Anthrax were good, Velvet Revolver were great.
Sabbath were. as always, awesome.
Even if Ozzy does read off an autocue these days.

One of the many catchups I owe you... Donington.

Or "Download", if you REALLY must!

I know, it was ages ago, but I've been promising myself I'll catch up on all the entries I missed...

Saturday, I got to the airport after a very comfortable and stress-free flight.
If I could afford to fly more often, I would. I love it!

I ended up on a row of my own... Window seat... Surrounded by a gaggle of air hostesses from another airline on a transfer hop.
The only ones within view for the duration of the flight resembled canines extracting urine from the surface of a stinging weed native to the UK. So I entertained myself by reading the in-flight magazine. There was actually a really interesting article in there, but I can't remember what it was about.
Can't have been THAT good, then.

Got to Midlands, and was informed that Vonnie and Semp were driving over to pick me up.
They made the trip in astounding time - I think they were just dying to see my hair!

After a failed attempt at purchasing Shreddies for Andyblip at the airport shop, we set out for the festival site.

"WHAT ARE YOU?!"

Hehheh.
I just got a textl from my sister, Julie.

"THERE'S A BAT IN THE HOUSE! HOW DO I GET RID OF IT?!?!"

I'm sorry.
I couldn't resist answering in the form of a media message...

Then, I gave her a call.

"How big is it?"
"About 2 inches. Then about a foot."
"Oh."
"What do you mean 'Oh'?!"
"It's not furry, is it?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Right."
"What?!"
"Is it brown? It's not brown, is it?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Gimme a minute."
"DON'T FREAK ME OUT!"
"No, no... It might be OK. Just hang tight. Don't move."
"WHAT?! FUCK OFF! WHAT?! WHAT?!"
"Do you know what it is. Christ..."
"WHAT?!?!"
"It's... A bat."
"FUCK OFF!"

I think bats are cute.

Of course, I then hit the RSPCA website and gave her the relevant info.

She's still freaked...

Poor wee thing.
Aw fuzzy wuzzy wee batty watty.
Kyoot.
Wanna touch it's ickle chinny chin and give it am tickles.

Calderglen - "Haw, Maw ! Thur's nane ae them cat hings in therr!"

Nice day today... So Iain and Skye came over, and we went down to Calderglen Country Park.

Got a wee bit lost, as we decided to take the woodland route to the petting zoo. That kinda backfired - But we got a nice wee wander down by the river as a result ( Had to cross by stones at one point. I <3 Magnums... Iain had trainers. :S )
Got some decent photos - Morgan looking at the water dripping down the cliff was nice, but the photo kinda came out a bit bleached-looking :(

The Meerkats were all hiding in the shade, and the E.K. denizens who were already there when we arrived were too knuckle-draggingly dumb to realise that since the sun was at our backs, the poor wee critters were currently sitting curled up in fear hiding under the window from the football-strip clad mini-morons who were trying to batter the window in with their small huge sovvy ring-clad fists...

Morgan also went down the big chute all by herself! I was impressed... Didn't think she'd even attempt, never mind manage the ladder!

:Photos:

Another vent-y stopgap entry...

Will Blog properly tomorrow night.
Just pissed off right now because I thought Kat was en route home from work, and Dave bought us pizza. We were waiting for her to arrive, since she was getting the bus we reckoned she'd be in around half eleven.
Just got a text from her at twenty to midnight saying "It was someone's birthday, so we are having a drink".

Well, of course.
Meh.
*Eats pizza*

The butterflies never did leave...

But it was a beautiful day.
I won't go into too much detail here, but I should mention that Pal's funeral had a huge turnout - Far more than I expected.
Like I said - And like the minister mentioned in the eulogy - He was a great man, and would do anything for anybody.
He didn't like people making a fuss over him, and simply liked helping people.

The funeral itself was hard. The carrying of the coffin was actually the easiest part, but it seems that my cousin is a few inches taller than I thought so I had to raise myself up to get my shoulder where it needed to be.
It turned out that the 4 of us towards the back were thinking pretty much the same thing... "I better not walk up his heels!"
I'm fairly sure Fred and Dad up front had "They better not walk up my heels!" going through their heads.
And Jamie and Billy - Well, they were screwed either way.

It went off without a hitch ( Not that Pal wouldn't have pissed himself laughing had we all gone arse-over tit. He'd just have been raging that nobody had a camcorder so we could send it to You've Been Framed! )

The eulogy, as I said, was beautiful.
When the minister mentioned that Julie ( My sister ) and I knew him as "Pal", I cracked.
And when he mentioned that he'd be sadly missed by us all, and included Morgan by name, I broke.
I am so so glad that - Much as she probably won't really remember in years to come - She at least got the chance to know Pal well enough to call him by that name.

I'm still constantly on the verge of tears, but not in a bad way. I'm at the stage now where random things remind me of him, and I cry not really out of sadness but out of the happiness of memory.
I actually started quietly sobbing to myself on Saturday morning, as walking through Glasgow airport's glass-walled corridors reminded me so much of the holidays we'd go on when I was young.
Thank god they've changed the shopping area so much, or I'd have been well away!
It's odd - Of all your senses, smell is most closely linked to memory.
And memories are like dominoes... Thinking of one thing makes you think of another. Before long you're lost in a trance of reminiscence.
Even for someone with as crap a memory as me, it's easy to go there when the memories are so powerful.
Random things, small things - An episode of Doctor Who that Pal slagged off the monsters in... The smell of newspapers and sweet tea... Mown grass and hot tar from an old shed roof.
Nothing to most of you reading this.

Everything to me.

Idling

That's Kat, Semp and Julie away.
I'll be catching up with them on Saturday morning.

I REALLY hope this sore stomach goes away :|

Funeral tomorrow.

Butterflies.

The Big Yin'll be sadly missed.

Not Billy Connoly...
Billy Fletcher.

My grandfather passed away at about half past nine on Monday morning.
I've been kinda numb since - "Pal", as I knew him was just that. A pal. A good friend. A gruff, stubborn old bugger who liked nothing better than a comfy chair, a pint, and a wee hauf as he watched the racing.
Sort of like a Glaswegian version of Jim Royle, with a ton more class.

I loved him to bits, and I don't think it's quite sunk in yet that he's gone. It was very sudden - It was only a few weeks ago that we found out he'd been diagnosed with cancer.
He was in hospital for a week or two, then home... Apparently he went peacefully in his sleep.

I suppose the silver lining here is that it was quite quick, and not drawn out over a long period of pain.
Doesn't change the fact that of all the people on this earth, he deserved to go early less than most.

He'd go to any lengths to help you out, and he was just a wonderful human being.

He wasn't a chuchy type by any means, and he never preached. But he believed in "Big G" in his own private way, so I'd like to think that as far as he's concerned now, Big G's got his pint and his paper ready and he's settling down now to yell at horses on Heaven's massive telly.
He'll also live on in all of us that knew him - There's a comfy chair in each of our hearts, with the cushion already moulded to the shape of his old arse.
I don't think he'll be out of it for long.

Sin City fucking rocks.

And the Catty was pretty good.
And that was my Friday night.

Eeohtee-emmcee.

That was a fun night, it has to be said!

Started off at the End Of The Month Club, with Vonnie, Bob and Dave.
Three bands, punctuated with nonsense. Some of said nonsense was amusing, some of it unutterable shite. The backdrop videos ( Mostly nicked off various websites, but funny nonetheless ) were entertaining.

Of the three bands, the opening act was OK... A bit indieshoegazey, but not bad.

Bozilla ( http://www.bozilla.co.uk )were excellent, and I'll definitely be making an effort to see them again. Great singer, Wolverine-with-an-afro on bass, and Phil-Jupitus-Hypnotised-Into-Thinking-He's-Bill-Bailey on "stuff". Theremin, drum machines, samplers etc.

Schmoof were pretty good, but not as fun as I'd expected. And the fact that McKenzie Crook was CLEARLY playing keyboards for them was somewhat distracting.


Headed on to Rev ( Cheers for the dropoff, Vonnie! ) with Dave... who disappeared when I went to give Muppet the drink he'd sent me to the bar for.
Where'd ya go, dude? You leave early, I assume? Since I never saw you on the bus... ( And I spent about 20 minutes wandering round Qudos looking for ya! )

Rev was alright - About as "Studentey" as I remember it being - Complete with some folk in full on furry suits.
I think one was meant to be Bungle. The other MAY have been meant to be George, but I don't recall George's jugs ever being that large...

Met some forummers - Hello, all! T'was good seeing you.
Cheers for the boogieage - Was much appreciated :)

The bus journey home was a bit disturbing.
Two apparently homeless jakes got on - After much hassle over tickets.
Then a girl a few years younger than me sat opposite me... And after about 10 minutes, the jakes noticed her.
One was actually sitting, leering over my shoulder at her going "Are ye feart, hen? Are ye para? Are ye feart? Are ye feart?"

Fuck's sake... PISS OFF, YOU SCUMBAG!
Luckily for her, she got off just past Semps' bit.

I think the jakes were in for a shock, too. They'd only got on the bus so they'd have somewhere to smoke, drink and eat their jar of mussels. The 66 terminates at EK.
Heh. Stranded in East Kilbride.
Truly, a fate worse than death!