Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Proof that men really are idiots!
Not that most women need any proof that men are idiots but just in case a few of you out there miraculously still need convincing, a recent study has shown that a man’s decision making abilities are severely impaired when it comes to something as simple as a pretty girl! Alright, maybe not the most surprising news ever but the way the study was carried out is actually quite interesting (in my humble opinion) and not as boring as you might expect! Just click on the link above, or right here if you’re feeling really lazy, to read the full story as reported by the BBC.
Personally, I thought the most interesting facet of the study was the manner in which they used a very simple test to determine if the male subjects had high testosterone levels. Apparently, and I’m going to have to take their word on this as I don’t have any evidence of my own to back it up, if a man’s ring finger (the one between the little finger and the middle finger) is longer than his index finger (the one between the thumb and the middle finger) then there is strong likelihood that the man in question has higher than normal levels of testosterone.
Wow! Who knew looking at someone’s hand could tell you so much! I’m a little taken aback by this as I would have always assumed that something like the ratio of finger lengths in human hands would be consistent and standard. I’ve been carrying out some random examinations since I’ve found this out, which has been a little disturbing for my test subjects in some cases. What’s freaking me out even more is that of all the hands I’ve checked out so far, my own fingers have the largest aberration I’ve found. Fabulous, I’m a fecking mutant! And no, I’m not going to tell you which finger is longer, a little bit of mystery can’t hurt I reckon. Besides, which is better, high or low testosterone? High testosterone might make you a randy goat but it might also make you go bald. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t!
Maybe some of you out there might have a view on which is better? Anyways, the next time a woman checks out your hands while you’re casually chatting on a night out, she might be figuring out more than you suspect!
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Blogs: Orange Revolution!
In response to Reality Check’s shameless attack on the colour orange, I can no longer remain silent and simply ignore the aspersions cast upon my impeccable taste and my beautiful orange-bedecked blog. Therefore, I ask you to join with me as I attempt to humbly proclaim the goodness that is orange and encourage you all to embrace the tao of orangeness!
Orange is no ordinary colour, unlike the lacklustre pastel blues of the bathroom colour scheme adorning Reality Check’s blog, orange doesn’t cower shyly in some dark far-off corner of the room hoping that no one will notice it. On the contrary, orange is the kind of vibrant colour that runs right up to you, grabs you by the scruff of the neck and eyeballs you at an uncomfortably close range audaciously demanding recognition while simultaneously daring you to even consider looking away for even the briefest of moments!
If like Reality Check you want to fade into the bland mediocrity of the mundane majority then fuck off and adorn yourself with boring pastel blues. However, if you want to muscle your way to the front of the crowd, stand tall and give two fingers to the universe demanding that the bitch gives you the recognition that you so truly deserve then let your inner orangeness shine through and wear it with pride! Who cares if you stand out like some langer with their dick hanging out! Fuck ‘em all, let those other boring pratts know that they’ve been well and truly tangoed! Ya baby!
Now take a few seconds to vote in the blog poll below. The fate of orange lies in your hands...
Friday, April 21, 2006
Soulwax at The Savoy
I was lucky enough to have scored a ticket for Soulwax at The Savoy, which was part of the Heineken Green Spheres tour. The band is comprised of two Belgian brothers, Stephen Dewaele and David Dewaele, who are also known as 2 Many DJs, Stefaan Van Leuven and Steve Slingeneyer.
The warm up act was some strange girl with too much angst singing over some music that she was playing on a laptop. Interestingly, about the only thing New Girl and I had in common that evening was that we both agreed that she, the warm up act that is, was utterly crap. Not surprisingly, shortly after that we callously dumped each other and ran back to the nurturing warmth of our mutually exclusive friends, Johnny Event Manager in her case, Snow Girl and Bat Girl in mine, who oddly enough thought that the girl with the angst was quite good, a view they stubbornly stuck to even after I slapped them soundly.
Anyway, Soulwax took to the stage soon afterwards and the good times returned with a bang. I had never seen this band before and I can honestly say that I was absolutely blown away. From the moment they hit the stage, they exuded an infectious musical energy that firmly grabbed you by the balls, shook you senseless and refused to let go no matter how loud you screamed. By the time they were finished, I was left wasted yet satisfied but ultimately wanting more! And the icing on the cake was that it was all fecking free! (Heh, not that I’m a tight git or anything and any comments to the contrary will be dealt with severely! :-)
Unfortunately, we didn’t hang around for the 2 Many DJs set that followed because we all had to get up early for work the next day or some other equally ridiculous reason. Finally, kudos to Heineken for doing the place up real nice with lots of spooky UFO like greenness!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Now that's what I call a Good Friday!
I was djing (is that even a fecking verb) at a house party over the weekend. X-A hooked us up with a decent set of speakers so the sound was booming. I started off by playing a pretty nifty (in my humble opinion) two and a half hour house set, which was absolutely fabulous. The only problem was that everyone at the frigging party wouldn’t recognise a decent dance toon even if it came at them sneakily from behind and bit the arse off them (for an interesting discussion about asses, check out this amusing post by Betty the Sheep), that is of course except for you Snow Girl, you’re the only one that truly understands me, sniff, sniff. So eventually, after a sound thrashing administered by Bat Girl, which was kind of nice for all of the wrong reasons, I relented and acquiesced to the wishes of the masses. Ya, I know, there’s just no accounting for taste!
Fortunately, I had no Abba tunes - there are some lines I just won’t cross - so Peaches was still extremely upset and spent the entire night repeatedly muttering the immortal phrase “he’s a lovely guy (so true :-) but the worst DJ in the world ever!” Don’t worry, under that veneer of a cold-hearted bitch that she wears so proudly, she really is a peach. Not sure if she’s right about me being a strawberry but I’m gonna roll with it for the moment. So, after a few crowd friendly tunes such as “Flame” by Bell XI (for Bat Girl) and “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley (for Snow Girl) and a few crowd unfriendly tunes like “Root Down” by the Beastie Boys (for Game Girl), people briefly got off their derrières and actually danced for a while. Still, that didn’t last long and DJ was still severely distraught over the lack of any Wolf Tones or Metallica tracks. Ah well, you can’t please everyone!
After that brief spell of joyfulness, things progressively descended into madness and I was haphazardly training in new DJ’s so that I could do some dancing myself. Strangely enough, you give a person a set of headphones and they just don’t seem to want to give them back, this enraptured look of concentration comes over them and they start banging out the beats. Special mentions to DJ Celine, DJ Doc, DJ Wonder Bra Girl, DJ Ronan Keating (if only because he was so bad he made us laugh :-) and to DJ Stoned Girl, who was (allegedly) so stoned out of her head that she thought it was totally frigging hilarious to just keep repeatedly playing “Flame” over and over and over and over again... I wonder if she got those photos we put on her phone when we went through her bag before she dropped in to collect it the following day.
Anyway, it was a good night and I particularly enjoyed Wonder Bra Girl’s story about her wonder bras that seemed to be severely lacking in the wonder department, I think Bat Girl christened them disillusionment bras. Beats me why she thought she needed them in the first place. (Damn, I said that out loud, didn’t I!) Still, she was undoubtedly proud of them all the same if the amount of times she fondled them in the kitchen just to piss off Ronan Keating is anything to go by. By that stage, I was beginning to think they’d never get in that frigging taxi because they really needed to get a fecking room!
Finally, a special shout out to Rat Girl, who couldn’t go because she was puking her guts out from food poisoning, and on her birthday and all, that is sad isn’t it. Also, I’m looking forward to seeing Doc’s photos when he eventually gets off his ass and sorts them out.
Monday, April 10, 2006
DJ Jazzy Jeff at The Savoy
It’s not often that I am torn between two different events on the same night. However, that’s how it was on Friday night. In one corner, looking a lot like a rebellious out of control teenager, stood the monthly Impact drum and bass night at An Cruiscín Lán, which is always brilliant and should never be taken for granted! In the other corner, looking every bit like the seminal hip hop genius that he undoubtedly is, stood the magnificent DJ Jazzy Jeff with his trusty sidekick, MC Skillz, who were playing at The Savoy on the very same night. What to do, what to do.
Shortly after meeting up with my partner in crime for the evening, the delectably desirable Snow Girl, a plan was quickly conceived, formulated and hatched (probably into one of those really cute little furry baby chicks that wobble about the place looking all timid and helpless) and we set off to The Savoy with a spring in our step. As we had no tickets, we decided to see if we could get in at the door. Failing that, the drum and bass was always there as a back-up plan! As it turned out, we need not have feared as we had no problems getting in. One ultra-violet marking on our right hand (they were fussy, they wouldn’t do the left hand, like what’s up with that) later and we were in!
After a quick trip to the bar for a drink and some chit-chat, we moved to the main floor, which was fecking mobbed (more about that later) to await the arrival of the man himself. Soon after, MC Skillz and DJ Jazzy Jeff took to the stage and the hip hop goodness kicked off with a bang - witness the fitness my pretty ones!
Snow Girl and I spent the best part of the next hour strutting our funky stuff - she is the perfect dance partner it must be said - before adjourning to the back bar for some badly needed liquid refreshment. After a brief adventure on the back bar dance floor, we returned to the main floor for some more Jazzy Jeff goodness. Much madness ensued and apologies to Snow Girl for bruising her shoulder with my elbow during “Jump Around” by House of Pain. Well, I was jumping around for God’s sake, it’s not like I fecking meant it or anything!
All in all, it was a great night and Jazzy Jeff and Skillz were brilliant. The only thing that upset me was the severe overcrowding on the main dance floor. Now don’t get me wrong, this would be acceptable if everyone on the dance floor was dancing but as they weren’t it just really pissed me off. Therefore, in future I’d really appreciate it if everyone abided by the following simple guidelines.
- If you’re just watching then get off the fucking dance floor!
- If you’re just drinking then get off the fucking dance floor!
- If you’re just getting off with someone then get off the fucking dance floor!
- If you’re just taking photos with your phone then get off the fucking dance floor!
- If you’re just feeling up women then... on second thoughts, we’ll let that one slide!
- Basically, if you’re not dancing then get off the fucking dance floor!
Finally, a few words to Rat Girl. First, you and V Girl should have gone because it was fecking fantastic! Secondly, learn a lesson or two from Snow Girl, she actually had some milk in her fridge! (No, you’re never going to be let forget that one :-)
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Mark Doyle, who is a God - don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, was the original driving force behind the whole Hed Kandi phenomenon, in my humble opinion at least. Now he has started his own label called Tokyo Project and if his first release, Tokyo Project: The Collection, is anything to go by then we are at the beginning of a whole new era of shiny sunshine goodness! Which is nice, especially considering that I personally feel that Hed Kandi has kind of lost its way of late and also the fact that it has been bought out by the Ministry of Sound doesn’t fill me with encouragement.
Anyway, the good news is that Tokyo Project will be releasing a brand new unmixed 3 CD compilation at the start of May. Just a mere two weeks before my birthday but (*cough*) that’s not a hint or anything... the hints will come closer to the date in question and will be as subtle as a brick!
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
"As dance producers they are touched by the hand of God" NME
"Music's latest craze is certainly a twisted one. Some are even calling it bastard pop. How else do you explain Destiny's Child singing Bootylicious over Nirvana's sacred Smells Like Teen Spirit" MTV
The Radio Soulwax tour features the brothers spinning dance discs under their moniker of 2 Many DJs as well as striking the chords on their synthesisers as part of the full live Soulwax line-up.
Tickets are by invitation only and in to be in with a chance of getting an invite for yourself and two of your favorite friends, all you have to do is register on the Heineken Green Spheres website. So what are you waiting for? Do it now! Especially all of you fine lab rats!
Sunday, April 02, 2006
A gang of us trekked off to Doubletime on Friday night at Cyprus Avenue. Ok, it wasn’t really a proper Doubletime as the next official Doubletime is on Friday 21st April at An Spailpin Fanac, which is going to be a bit of a fecking problem as it clashes with Bob Sinclar at The Savoy and to be quite honest, it’s going to leave me with one hell of a tricky dilemma! Anyway, this gig was really a few bands followed by a mini Doubletime at the end of the night.
When we arrived, some guy with a guitar, whose name I don’t know, was playing on stage but by the time we got a drink and sat down he was more or less finished. Next up was the jazz trio ensemble of Valdeman, Smyth & Baus or, in this particular case, just Valdeman & Baus as Mizz Smyth was nowhere to be found. VSB are always nice to listen to, you can just sit back, relax and chat as their soothing melodies wash all of your troubles away. The final band of the night was a pretty unusual group of musicians, I think they were called The Rhythm Method but I’m not sure. Hmmm, I’m just wondering how in the name of God am I going to adequately describe this bunch of jokers.
Let’s see, they had a distinctive reggae thing going on beneath a lot of their music but for almost every second song the lead singer would do some terrible woeful solo that sounded like the lonely wails of some poor dog tied to a tree and left out in the cold for a night. A little cruel perhaps but for the love of God, we were there to dance and ended up practically committing suicide! I swear, if it wasn’t for the congenial company of the cute and classy Bat Girl, the demur yet bodacious Rat Girl, the tantalisingly intriguing V Girl and her scintillatingly seductive sidekick Tall Girl (ok, so originality isn’t my strong point :-), not forgetting the somewhat grumpy Sin Girl (ok, now I’m dead), the celestial Celine (I still need that lawnmower by the way), the dynamic DJ and the snap happy Doc, I think I would have thrown myself out of the nearest window, which would probably have done shag all good as we were only on the first floor. That said, this band did bang out a cracking Johnny Cash number in the middle of their set, which almost made up for the rest of it.
Eventually 1am arrived and Gary started to play the tunes we had all come to hear. Sheer bliss! Everybody danced, everybody smiled and everybody had a good time! An hour later, we were a much happier bunch of people. Then again, that didn’t last long. After being promised tea and biscuits in return for a lift home, Rat Girl’s cupboards turned out to be pretty fecking bare. And no, tea without milk and chocolate made from chili peppers doesn’t even come close!
(Thanks to Donal for the original pictures.)