Coastalblog

Hysterical (in at least two senses of the word) report on C4 news this evening. The (apparent)rise of mephedrone (which will surely Kill Us All) was tackled with all the head nodding, chin stroking gravitas of a Very Serious Subject. M-Cat, or meow-meow, as absolutely nobody calls it, is killing our kids at a rate of knots. And is now to be banned so fast its little feet, made of drugs, won't touch the ground. Now, fond as I am of a media scare story (oh MMR, come back, we miss you, oh SARS, when will you return my love?) this is a doozy. No toxicology reports are back on the cases. Not a single inquest has, as yet been held, but this menace Must Be Stopped. Because, as C4 earnestly reported from a school on the Isle of Wight (in no sense the sort of back-assward place where goons will hoover up the contents of anyting remotely resembling a pill bottle in a desperate hope to stop being so very, very bored) half, that's HALF, 50%, one in every two yrs 10-11 were getting the ...

In all honesty i have very little of intersst to say, very little of interest has occurred, or ,if it has, I'v been too knackered to notice. So, in the absence of anything interesting to say, have a list of things. Originally this paragraph concluded "which, given that the universe is slowing, are, in the grand scheme of things of very little consequence indeed". As the post went on and I got slightly drunker editing that particular line out suddenly seemed the correct thing to do. 1)TOO MANY COMMAS I'd murder a student for the sentence above, really, I would, hold their head under the water until the irritating, trilby wearing little trustie fuckpig died, which leads me neatly onto 2) IRRITATING TRILBY-WEARING LITTLE TRUSTIE FUCKPIGS I'm sure they're on the fucking rise this cunt ensured that I'm never paying actual money for the observer again, in fact, I'll go to the trouble of emailing them each week to tell them that I'm not buying their sudd...

Now, I'm as fond of a drink as the next man, unless the next man happens to be (insert recent drunk celebrity here for instant smug yucks) but I'm starting to get a little uneasy about the up and up of the booze-tastic trade in dear ol' ormy of late. Please do not misunderstand me, part of my living comes from the sale of alcohol, though I very much doubt that any criticism of the binge-drinking britain sort could be directed at my eminent and tasteful customers, what with the average purchase being a couple of bottles of beer, meant for the savouring, rather than necking. Plus, if you want to try and get drunk on our stuff then you're probably coping better with these recession-hit times than most. This is in no sense a complaint by somone witha slice of the pie wanting to stop others geting stuck in, I'm talking about a different market altogether. Now, should one wish to get out of one's head in the skirk, there are currently about thirty options within fifte...

In no sense as long a post as the one crowning Asley Cole world's least self aware person, but, to be fair this is more a of a niche category. And just a little too involved to be a facebook status update. what's the award? You rightly cry. Well, it's not so much an award as an attempt to spread the misery, so, without further ado the prize for this week's most pretentious, self-aggrandising punchable indie wankbag lyric goes to... Frankie and the Heartstrings, for the deathless "We watch naked by Mike Leigh/Because Johnny reminded you of me" Awful, just awful.

A quick perusal of the logs informs me that your super soaraway coastalblog is #4 on google for " john terry ashley cole vernon kay scum". Well, strictly speaking the searcher was looking for scun, rather than scum, but kindly google in its infinite wisdom chose to interpret the search as scum, thus sparing awkward moments all round. Well done chaps, good luck with the global domination, I've a fiver on you meeting Tesco in the semis. Anyhoo, a small achievement, but mine nonethless. #4 for "Vernon Kay scum", that's something to tell the grandkids.

Breaking news from our stating the bleeding obvious desk. A spokesman for Sanguine Hospitality, owners of the Swan has reiterated that any hotel accomodation would not be in any way a budget hotel, what with it being attached to a restaurant fronted by Marco Pierre White and all. Reports that he went on, whilst audibly scratching his head to state "who the fuck are these bozos anyway?" are, as yet, unconfirmed. Champ headline of the week, referring to a stirring performance by Skem Utd FC: "Skem players prove they are men", which must have come as some relief to them, presumably.

Because if you can't do it on your own damn blog, where can you? Musn't..gush...or...get...overexcited.... Anyhow, for those who are interested, my first poetry collection, L39, is available for sale now here . Not only is it the single most important thing to happen to poetry since the invention of daffodils possessing it will make you smell nicer, grow taller and become better-looking, too. What's not to like for a fiver? C'mon, help a starving poet out here.