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An interesting, if slightly odd week in Cornwall recently. As holidays go, it was very pleasant, and it was great to get away from the daily growl for a bit. But it’s a curious place.
Take this as an example. We hired bikes for a ride along part of The Camel Trail, a path that winds it’s way through 15 miles of lovely coastal scenery along a disused railway line between Padstow and Bodmin.
About halfway down the route to Wadebridge, my back tyre blew. A worn tyre had caused the tube to fall apart. Fortunately, we’d picked up a repair kit, and began to fix the problem. Jokes flew about, along the lines of “Call The RAC”, and “Better let Air Sea Rescue know.”
A couple of minutes later, an Army Sea King did indeed come across the bay, did a low sweep directly over us, turned, did it again to make sure we were ok, and the pilot waved as he span away.
And was I too dumbstruck to take photos?
Yes, of course I was?
Have I been kicking myself ever since? What do you think?

Actualy, while I remember, we were at Harlyn Bay last year when the air ambulance landed on the beach to pick up someone who’d had a heart attack. If there’s a sure way to get sand in your suntan lotion, it’s landing a chopper in the middle of a bay filled with the fine stuff.
I swear, I must attract the things.

Regular readers to the blog may recall my delight at spotting a film in the Film Market at Cannes entitled “YoYo Girl Cop.” People who know what I’m like have suggested that I was making that one up.Well, nyah nyah, unbelievers.
Frankly, this is already one of my favourite films of the year.

…unless you’re not a fan of the Princess Bride of course.
In which case, I’m not sure I want to know you any more.

The Torrential rainstorms that have caused flood misery in the North finally landed closer to the seat of government today – and a bit too close to my gaff.
Trains home were a bit of a pain, but most services anywhere further west than Oxford were suspended for the night. A lot of people are in for an enforced Friday night in London. The Truck and Glade festivals, both set for this weekend, have been postponed as bands don’t perform well underwater.
We’re off to Cornwall this weekend, after I’ve fitted the snorkel gear onto the Micra.
See you all in a week.

The first chapter of CROOKED LITTLE VEIN, the first novel by Warren Ellis, is up to download via his wubshite.

Yeah, so you get the one taste for free, then Daddy’s gonna have ta charge ya.

Red Bulls and smokes don’t buy themselves.

Especially fun at kids parties.

Caffeine Jello Shots. Wow. What a future we live in. Even jelly can be evil now.

well, he promised he’d not let it drop.
Here’s an open letter on his website, drawing up the battlelines for future engagements.

Should be fun, whatever happens…

This is great. Michael Moore, interviewed by Wolf Blitzer (crazy name, crazy guy) on CNN for the first time in three years.

(via Cinematical)

I’ve had Dan Goldman’s KELLY on my to-read list for a while, and finally got round to downloading the PDFs this afternoon.
It’s a hellagood ride. Dan’s art reminds me of Paul Pope necking Warren Pleece, and that scuzzy hand-hewn tone suits the skewed, filthygorgeous tone of the comic beautifully. He can slip a punchline through your ribs like you wouldn’t believe either.

Downloads of Acts 1&2 are to be snagged here, with a follow-on link to Act 3.

Do yourself a favour – don’t read it at work, but do read it.

Had a call from my pal Dominic on Thursday. This was textbook synchronicity, as I ‘d just been thinking I’d not seen him for a couple of weeks. He’d been on holiday, which explained the drop off the radar, but he had an offer for me.
Passes to the secret Foo Fighters show that night in Camden. Did I fancy it?
Do I fancy Scarlett Johannsen? Do I fancy a cold Heineken and a cheeseburger?
It took me about fifteen nanoseconds to make my mind up.
I spent the rest of the day doing impatient squeees.
I hooked up with lovely Dom and our mutual pal Tony after work and we tubed to Camden. The gig was being held at Dingwall’s, which I used to visit regularly for comedy nights. The last time I was there was for a Bob Mould gig at least three years ago. It’s a cosy, intimate space, holding about 500 people. No such thing as a backstage area. The dressing room is by the girl’s loo. It’s perfect for a sweaty, loud fan-club gig.
The gig is also a warm-up for the Foo’s 20 minutes at Wembley on Saturday for Live Earth. All I can say is, on the evidence of what I saw on Thursday, every other act on the bill had better be on top form, because they blew the hairpiece off the joint. A two-hour greatest-hits romp, I bounced, bellowed and whooped along with Dave, Chris, Nate and Taylor. Just one new track, which kept the momentum of the night up at full-throttle level. They’ve just finished recording the new album and still wore the beards they’d been growing in the studio to boot. Dave looked like Jesus. Exquisitely conditioned hair. At one point he took a vote on whether he should keep the hair or not for Saturday.
So, Live Earth viewers, that hairyness on stage at around 9:20 is partially my fault.

A great night. On a scale of 1-10, I rate it awesome.

Here’s a more detailed review of the gig from Edmund on the Foo Fighters Forum.

And some pics from Emily, who was clearly jammed into Dave’s effects board.