Guest Blog: The Freedom Junkie

About five years ago, when I was still gigging with my turbo-messy techno punk band Petrol Bastard, we scored a gig at some big freezing-cold warehouse in Liverpool (I think it was Liverpool anyway. Dunno. Was drunk). From hazy memory I recall it being a total washout; maybe ten people in attendance, all rattling around in a room the size of an aircraft hanger. And most of them were probably only there because they were DJs or bar-staff, so in actual fact there were probably only two or three paying punters there, but fuck it – what did I care? We were getting paid, I was wankered on lovely cheap booze and nothing else mattered. Begone, peasants. I’ll make my own fun. It was a standard shit gig for us, which seemed to account for about 70% of all gigs, so nothing exceptional or exciting. Until, that was, I spotted a familiar-looking guy with piercings and a short spiky mohawk, unpacking a load of t-shirts and CDs onto a table by the back wall. Continue reading

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Coming Out

What’s scarier than finding out your mum has been reading your recovery blog, full of nasty stories about what a twat you’ve spent your whole life being?

NOTHING.

But it’s cool. I spoke to her on the phone, and the good news is she supports the blog and understands why I write it. There was the initial jolt of HOLYFUK MY SON IS A MONSTER CALL THE FIRE PEOPLE AND THE ZOO KEEPER AND A PRIEST AND EVERYONE WHAT HAVE I DONE WHAT HAVE I DONE but it’s fine. Continue reading

Just A Different Sort Of Twat

I’ve got a half-marathon coming up in a couple of weeks, my third ‘official’ half marathon where you get a medal and a t-shirt and a bag of wanky snacks at the end. It means I’ve had to put a bit of effort in to training but it’s no biggie these days. Whether it’s pissing down, or blowing a gale, I’ll be out there. 10 kilometers, three times a week, forever and ever and ever until I DIE. Continue reading

The Scribbler

Before moving to Milton Keynes I spent around 5 years working in Manchester city centre, which – despite the long travelling times – I really enjoyed. It was the buzz of the whole place which I liked to get caught up in, and even my daily walk down Whitworth Street from Piccadilly Train Station felt like a stroll through the centre of the universe. I still think Manchester pips London as my favourite UK city, and we even went back up there for our joint stag/hen do earlier this year. Continue reading

A Huge Cannon

That’s what I’ve always wanted, really. A huge cannon surrounded by an Alton Towers-esque fenced queuing system, where I can send endless processions of bad drivers to slowly shuffle their way towards the front of the pack. At the front they would be gently but efficiently loaded into the huge barrel by a squad of highly trained and super-friendly staff. Continue reading

Seedlip

Last week I received some samples of Seedlip, which is described on their website as so:

Seedlip is a range of the world’s first distilled non-alcoholic spirits based on the distilled non-alcoholic remedies from The Art of Distillation written in 1651 and now re-purposed to pioneer a new category of drinks to solve the ‘what to drink when you’re not drinking dilemma’.

Back in my drinking days I could have never imagined anything more pointless than alcohol-free versions of classically alcoholic drinks, however I changed my tune on becoming sober, and these days I genuinely enjoy a chilled alcohol-free beer of an evening, and sometimes even alcohol-free wine is alright with a nice meal or whatever. These are drinks that taste nice though, and I don’t recall spirits ever being something I enjoyed the taste of – they just afforded me a quicker route to Spangledville. Maybe, for that reason, I’m not the right person to be reviewing an alcohol-free spirit. It’s probably like asking my dad to review an Insane Clown Posse album. It’s never going to be a glowing review. Continue reading

That Time I Shat Myself In Huddersfield

When you have a drinking problem, you don’t just have a couple of drinks and then stop. That’s kind of what a drinking problem is. This means that whatever your choice of drink is – you are going to drink it in a substantial quantity. Anything taken in huge quantities – even healthy stuff like fruit – is going to have some sort of effect on your stomach. This seems to be especially true with pints of beer – whenever else would you even consider drinking 10 pints of the exact same liquid?? The effects are unlikely to be good. I found this out the hard way.

Continue reading