I'm off to a meal and house party in Moseley, to see out the end of the 21st century's first quinquennium. (It's amazing what words you can learn from watching the final of Hard Spell just now, isn't it?)

Happy New Year to all of you. How are you celebrating?


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So there I was on Boxing Day, at the annual Kenilworth Lions duck race in the shadow of Kenilworth Castle (what's left of it). To amuse my cousin's little boy, I greeted him wearing the atractive reindeer nose and antlers that you see below. The nose flashes, by the way. (The ensemble was bought for my sister by her boyfriend, just in case you think I would own such things). Child duly amused, I kept them on for a bit, because I realised they were making people smile or laugh on a cold Winter's day. Adults were pointing me out to their children, my own family were disowning me and walking several paces behind, and at one point I actually heard a child ask someone nearby, "Is that really Rudolph?". Aaah, bless.

Anyway, it was just a bit of fun, and I put the photo below just so that the half a dozen people who read this blog would be entertained. I did not expect to hear from my cousin last night that a similar picture of Chig is now featured in yesterday's edition of their local paper, the Kenilworth Weekly News! Oh deer indeed!


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02.55 Just got in from a fun Christmas Eve at the Nightingale. That's the enjoyable part of Christmas over and done with then. This was taken in the early hours of Christmas Day. Season's greetings to all. I'll be back on Boxing Day.


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Look, I just can't do this. Is it too late to cancel Christmas? The problem is, it's too damn warm! I can't do Christmas in the mild. It's not even cold in Scotland, fer cryin' out loud. I'm dreaming of a Spring-like, quite warm, not even cold enough to see your breath Christmas? I don't think so.

They promised us the coldest Winter in fifty years. I know we're only three days into Winter itself, but when exactly is this cold spell coming? I want snow and I want it now!


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Special thanks to Wayne, Paul and Nathan who posed with those attractive hats on for Chig's Christmas photo this year. You can now see it on the left hand side. We lured them into Santa's grotto (backstage at the Nightingale) a couple of weeks ago for a special photo session. (This is one of the few pictures that can be seen in public. It's so much more fun than sending cards, which I stopped doing three years ago because I am a Christmas Scrooge, as I explained in Diamond Geezer's comments box yesterday.

*Actually, two of them definitely are and one isn't, but I'll leave you to work it out.
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There you go. Whether you were watching The X Factor or Strictly Come Dancing, the result was the same.

It's now 01:45. I've been to a houseparty tonight. Our hosts, B & K, knew that I was coming after The X Factor result. Let me rephrase that. I was leaving the house after The X Factor. B is from Yorkshire, so I thought I'd mention Darren Gough's win when I got there. When I arrived, they both opened the door. "Who won?", said B. Knowing damn well that he meant The X Factor, I said, "Darren Gough", purely for comedy value and to give the unexpected response. K moaned, "Oh no!" loudly and they both looked horrified. Guess who was taping Strictly Come Dancing, to watch it tomorrow? I ruined K's birthday party. Oh dear.


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Chig wishes that yesterday's Daily Star headline were true and not just a desperately pathetic reference to Shayne singing 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow' in tonight's X Factor final.

"EXCLUSIVE! Hunk Shayne Ward is hiding an amazing gay secret as he bids to win the X Factor final."

And the gay secret is? I am gagging to know. Oh, they've already told us. He's singing that song from The Wizard Of Oz. This will apparently elicit a Pavlovian response from The Gays, who will vote for Shayne in a dizzy pink trance after hearing that song. Not only that, but he's also going to do 'When A Child Is Born', which was once sung by Johnny Mathis (even though he didn't write it), who is also,,,get this...A GAY! Then, in a phenomenal piece of barrel-scraping, the Star says his third song is by Daniel Bedingfield, and I quote, "who also has a mass of male fans". I suspect that all of Daniel Bedingfield's male fans are god-botherers and not friends of Dorothy (a term which the Star helpfully explains to its readers.)

Just to clarify, I really want Shayne to win tonight. My bet on Journey South is just my insurance policy, so that I'm happy with the result either way, although I still think they will win too. Think of my nine pounds profit if the brothers Pemberton triumph.

Won't it be funny if Andy wins instead?


PS. X Factor fans may like to know that the fabulous Brenda has already been secured by The Nightingale in Birmingham for 7th January, with Rowetta the week after. That's two amazing pairs of lungs in eight days. Fab!

21:18 UPDATE There's a shock already! Andy's through to the final two with Shayne, and Journey South are out. One of my four bets is out the window and suddenly there's doubt in my mind. Andy can win this; most of Journey South's support will probably transfer to him rather than Shayne. At least Simon Cowell's not going to win for the second year, but Sharon's or Louis' act instead. Kate Thornton says that there's 0.25% between the votes for Andy and Shayne. Ooh, the tension! (I do wish she'd stop saying rubbish like "over six million of you have voted" though. Clearly bollocks. It's a much smaller number of people, some of whom have voted hundreds of times. She's misleading people.

22:01 UPDATE Yes! Well done Shayne! Only 1.2% in it, or so we're told. I will definitely be cashing in on my fourth bet, because in eight days' time, Shayne Ward's single, That's My Goal, will be deposing Nizlopi from the top of the charts and becoming the Christmas Day Number One. (In your shops on Wednesday.) Both contestants gave a strong performance of the song, which couldn't have been written to be more appropriate if they'd tried. It was lyrically apt for tonight's final, but it will also be bought by thousands of people for their other half for Christmas. It's a sentimental power ballad, but hey, it's not Mr Blobby or Bob The Builder, and for that we should be grateful...


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Honestly, such a fuss! All I did on Saturday night was go down to see some friends in Hertfordshire, where we had a small fireworks party. So, one of two of the bangers went astray - so what? It's not like anyone got hurt or anything...

But seriously...

There have been some amazing photos of the Buncefield fuel depot fire. The front pages of yesterday's and today's newspapers showed the awesome scale of the fire and the smoke plume, including pictures taken from aircraft and from space. But there's another side to the story. The individual, personal side. The view from the ground. And that's why I think this photo is absolutely brilliant. Bravo!


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Brenda's out! I felt sure Brenda would end up third in The X Factor and Andy would be out tonight, but she's gone instead. I think she blew it with her perceptible lack of enthusiasm tonight; the performances were great, but she seemed really downbeat when she spoke. Andy probably grabbed the necessary extra votes with that shameless display of affection towards his children. People like a bit of sentimental syrup on a Saturday night.
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Two bets out of two won so far. Westlife bring in the dosh again. They've won Record Of The Year for the fourth time! That's a £4.50 profit on a £2.00 bet at 9-4, slightly better than the 50p that Carol Thatcher made me.

The winning song, You Raise Me Up, although it has been covered by loads of artists, (including Brian Kennedy, who will sing for Ireland at next year's Eurovision and several people in the X Factor auditions), was written by Secret Garden, who won Eurovision themselves for Norway in 1995. They won it in Dublin. And where are Westlife from? What goes around comes around...

Next bet - The X Factor final next Saturday. I wish I'd done some doubles now.
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So far, so good. I placed four bets yesterday. (Oh, the joy of a Paddy Power account, opened for Eurovision purposes last year.) One down, three to go. Here they are, so you can track my progress and laugh be amazed at Chig's predictive powers.

Carol Thatcher to win I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here! £3.00 at 1-6
CORRECT (and well deserved). The absurdly low odds of 1-6 mean a life-changing 50p profit!

Westlife’s ‘You Raise Me Up’ to win Record of the Year (Sat 10 Dec.) £2.00 at 9-4.
Serious competition seems most likely to come from the Sugababes or McFly, but if Westlife could win this meaningless award last year, with the really weak 'Mandy', they can win it with this, one of their most successful singles ever. And Irish boybands have won it more years than not.

Journey South to win The X Factor (Sat 17 Dec.) £3.00 at 3-1.
Yes, of course I want gorgeous, sexy, talented Shayne to win, but methinks he will 'do a Gareth' and come second to these two, who have supposedly been winning the televote most weeks already, with Shayne only winning once, quite early on. It won't matter a jot to Shayne, who will be the star of 2006 anyway. (Think Steve Brookstein, in obscurity with no record deal, versus G4, on a second album and all over the telly at the moment. Winning don't matter.)

X Factor winner (regardless of who wins) to have the Christmas Number One single. (Sun 25 Dec.) £3.00 at 8-15.
The Christmas Number One is going to be very exciting this year, as it'll be revealed on Christmas Day. (Pity the poor sods who'll be processing the data, as well as everyone in a record shop on Christmas Eve.) Not only that, but one single will go into the lead from Monday 19th, and then, only on Thursday 22nd, will the X Factor winner's single be unleashed, giving it just three days to overtake (probably) Westlife & Diana Ross (or The Pogues & Kirsty MacColl, if there's an outbreak of nostalgic good taste). I can barely contain myself. If Shayne wins, I expect the single will be better than Journey South's, but will it matter? Will it heck. It's Christmas - the public will buy any old shite related to reality TV programmes, as long as it's within a week of the programme being on. Let's just be thankful that no other contestants are allowed to release their singles first, so we won't be having a Chico Christmas. A Cheeky Christmas was bad enough. (Sorry, I cannot lie. I secretly quite liked the Cheeky Girls. They once let me touch their bums. So there.)

So, do you think Chig's going to be in the money?
Who do you think will win these last three?


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I've said it before (two months and one day ago, to be precise) but, now that it's happened, I'll say it again. As of today, for the first time in my life, there is a leader of a major UK political party who is younger than me. Crikey.

I wonder how long it will be before there's a younger party leader who actually stands a chance of getting my vote?


"That's it darling, keep your head at that angle and it'll look like you're wearing a lovely little sailor hat. Now, look at my rabbit. LOOK AT MY RABBIT! YOU WILL OBEY! I AM THE LEADER!"
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There's a phrase I never thought I'd be saying, but now we can do it with a clear conscience. I hope Carol Thatcher wins I'm A Celebrity tonight, but even if she doesn't, there will be a deserving winner, as all of the last four have made great efforts on behalf of the team, been on journeys of self-discovery and been entertaining, so I won't be too bothered if Sid or Sheree win. The poll on This Morning today indicates that C. Thatch is running away with it though, on 62%. I think this has been the best series of I'm A Celebrity so far, and it proves that it doesn't matter how famous the celebs are, it depends how they gel with each other. Some TV execs think that you need a spanner in the works (like John Lydon in a previous run), but this series has succeeded because they've all been likeable people who have worked together. Even David Dickinson, whose naked ambition was rather obvious at times, was quite genial most of the time. Watching a bunch of people who get on with each other and who are able to have conversations that don't turn into fights is much more entertaining than people who are there just to cause controversy. Big Brother producers, please take note, and perhaps make next year's series a bit more like the first?

PS. Which of this year's I'm A Celebrity contestants used to be on Chig's bedroom wall on a 3ft x 2ft poster?


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Right then, pop kids, who is this former hitmaker? She turned up unannounced in the early hours of this morning at an event which I dragged myself out of my sick bed to see. It was rather a pleasant surprise! Answers in the comments box please.


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I heard two quotes on live TV yesterday which seemed strangely similar. At lunchtime, Calum Best read out a poem at his father George's funeral, which started with these words;

"You can shed tears that he has gone, or you can smile because he has lived."

Later, when Chico at last received his marching orders from The X Factor, he said this;

"Some people cry because things come to an end, I rejoice because they happened."

I find it unlikely that Chico prepared for his extraordinary performances last night by watching George Best's funeral, but that's a bit spooky.


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Why have the date and time options disappeared when creating posts in Blogger? Is it just me?
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From the comments box two days ago:

"My first ever Geocities home page from Spring 1996 famously had a link to pics of two members of TT hosing each other down in the shower, the cheeky little scamps. (I think it was Gary and Mark.) Wonder what happened to those pics?"

[Chig goes to My Pictures on his PC.]

Happy to be of service. Well remembered!


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Over at Swiss Toni's Place, he's having a little competition. He asked people to send in handwriting samples of a song lyric, so I did. See if you can guess which one is Chig's, and which belong to the other seventeen people. The deadline's tonight, unfortunately, but my bed-ridden state hasn't leant itself to much web-surfing, so I didn't realise the competition was up and running until today. Anyway, if you need some 'assistance' (cough, splutter), Swiss Toni has 'helpfully' brought in someone to do a bit of handwriting analysis on each sample. So, all you have to do to spot mine is read the analyses until you find the one that describes me best. Easy.

Good luck.

[Chig rolls around floor laughing uncontrollably. Then blows nose again.]


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Hurrah! We've got Take That tickets! We've got Take That tickets!

Mike and I have been trying since before 9am for NEC tickets, on the phone and on two websites. We watched as the two advertised dates quickly sold out. Then they added another one, and Mike got through on t'internet. Thanks Mike. So if you're seeing Take That at the NEC Arena on Wednesday 26 April, we'll see you there.

And now, back to my sickbed. I have 'flu. Not manflu (ie. just a bad cold, exaggerated for work purposes), but real, achy, snotty, exhausting, coughing, no appetite, no energy 'flu. I've spent the last 48 hours in bed. It's horrible.


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Hidden meaning in I'm A Celebrity shocker!

The reason I'm paying an unhealthy interest in the current run of I'm A Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! is that I know the producer of the bush tucker trials. She's one of my sister's best friends, and the same person who got us into the audience for Big Brother last year. My sister has been exchanging text messages with her friend since she (the friend) went to Australia for the show. In tonight's bush tucker trial, Antony Costa's challenge was to sing a bunch of songs while being showered with creepy-crawlies. It's my sister's friend who would decide what the songs are. One of the songs was Neil Diamond's 'Sweet Caroline'. And what's my sister's name? Yep. It's too much of a coincidence. My sister has just said that she thinks so too...


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Quite possibly.

There's only one news story that matters today tomorrow.

Let me feel the wonder of all of you!


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Not a quote I ever imagined coming from the lips of the fragrant Jilly Goolden, but there you go.

Is Carol Thatcher the most fearless woman in the world? I think she might be. I'm off to have my tea now, but it won't be including any kangaroo testicles.
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...and my Great Aunt Marjorie.

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Today, I had to make a terrible decision. I’ve been agonising over it all weekend and it’s been tearing me in two. I think I’m doing the right thing, but I wish I’d never had to make the decision in the first place.

Ten days ago, on Friday 11th, I went out to a friend’s birthday party. Despite not finishing work until 7pm, after a really crap working week, and feeling like I’d rather lie down on the settee and watch TV all night, I went to the party because I had said I would weeks ago, and I like to keep my word. Especially when the friend having the party is Birmingham’s fiercest (and most creative) drag queen. You just don’t do that. I also fancied drowning my sorrows after the death in the family earlier in the week, and the central heating was playing up, only staying on for ten minutes at a time before the pressure dropped, so the night in front of the telly didn’t seem such a comfortable option anyway. Might as well go out and enjoy myself.

So, I walked down to DV8 as it was an exceptionally mild night for November and went to the private party. Our host introduced me to someone who I was getting on very well with, so all was looking good as we chatted. He bought me a drink, we chatted some more and then I decided to visit the toilet and told him I’d get us both a drink when I came back. As I was leaving the toilets, I overheard someone I only know by name say to someone else, “Are you going to Pat’s funeral?” I turned back and looked at him, knowing that he knew the Pat that I knew, but I thought no, don’t be stupid, you misheard, it’s just coincidence and anyway they were deep in conversation. I went out and stood at the bar. Must find the birthday boy. Nowhere to be seen. I stood at the bar, surveying the dancefloor, getting more and more agitated. I got served, took the drink to my new friend, told him what I’d heard and said “I’m sure it’s not, but I just have to go and find…” “Yes, of course you do,” he said, very understandingly and pushed me off. To cut a long story short, I then had it confirmed by our host, while standing on the dancefloor, that our mutual friend had died. I can’t think of a good way to find out how a friend has died, but overhearing it in the toilets was pretty horrendous. There were lots of mutual friends at the party, so I spoke to a few, blubbed in front of the man I was trying to chat up, and generally felt numb. It seemed like everyone knew already, and I was cursing the gay grapevine for failing miserably on this occasion, when it turned out Pat had died eleven days before the party. Thankfully, the funeral hadn’t been held, so there was still chance to pay my respects.

The birthday party ended with me discovering that my favourite jacket, which contained my favourite baseball cap in the pocket, was stolen from under my nose, even though I had kept my eye on it until about fifteen minutes from the end. There are some nasty bastards out clubbing, and this was a private party as well (which was the reason there was no cloakroom option). We staggered back, me wearing just a shirt, to birthday boy's flat, where I got slaughtered on his vodka and passed out eventually on an airbed with some complete strangers. In the morning, I got the bus back home, still quite drunk, discovered that the central heating had completely given up, and went to bed, depressed as could be, where I slept for five hours through Saturday afternoon.

Over the weekend, I had to break the news to two other friends who knew Pat. Back at work last Monday, I warned my manager that I would be going to a second funeral, but no date was set. ‘Knowing my luck,’ I e-mailed him, ‘they’ll both be on the same day’. No word for the whole week, and then, on Saturday, it was confirmed. Patrick’s funeral is tomorrow at 12.30 at Birmingham Crematorium. My Great Aunt’s was already scheduled for tomorrow, at 12.00, in Coventry. I have spent the rest of the weekend absolutely despondent. I want to rip myself in half and go to both, but it’s impossible. Family, or friends? What a bloody awful decision to have to make. I haven’t had to go to a funeral for over a year. Then two people die within five days of each other, both funerals are unusually delayed, but they both happen within half an hour of each other, ten miles apart. How can this be happening? It’s torture.

I distracted my thoughts on Saturday by seeing the Harry Potter film and then went out on Saturday night, mainly to see Richard, but it also gave me chance to chat to other friends of Pat, where at least I was able to tell them about the funeral and confirm that they would be going. It was some help.

I’ve spoken to my manager and stayed off work today. I was in no mood to concentrate on work. I feel angry – without having a target for my anger, and deeply sad. I had an emotional phone call with my Mum this afternoon and I’ve made a decision. To my surprise, when I’ve actually explained my morbid dilemma to four of five people, none of them have said, ‘the decision’s up to you – I can’t really say’. They all said I should go to the person’s to whom I felt the closest. So, tomorrow, I’m going to Pat’s funeral, because, when it boils down to it, he was the closest of the two. I’d known him since 1989, I think. ‘You can choose your friends but you can’t choose your relatives,’ people say, but that sounds cruel, as if there’s some implied criticism of my Great Aunt, and there isn’t. I wanted to be at what may be the last family funeral of its kind. The end of an era. The last of her generation. Our family is so spread around the country that we’ll probably never all be together again, but I’m going to miss it.

I’m aware that there are friends and family who are closer than I was to both of the people who have died, and that this isn’t about me, it’s about them. There’s a danger of creating my own little melodrama here which will seem ridiculous, given time. But this is currently painful and I’ve shed so many tears over the last few days. There is no right answer over what to do tomorrow. Either way, I’ll feel like I’ve let someone down, but I’m going with the option that seems less wrong. Does that make sense?

If nothing else, it has helped to write this. Please excuse my introspection.




Pat with Graham Norton, February 2005 and outside Prague bar, May 2005.
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Chig has just returned from seeing Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Wow! It's superb. I only ever read about a third of the first book, before giving up on the whole lot, so I have approached all four of these films as a virgin viewer. Apart from a few clips on TV, I knew very little about what happens in this one and so I could enjoy it without any expectations. It doesn't seem anywhere near the two and a half hours that it is. I never once wondered what the time was, so it must be good. And the dragon fight scene is fantastic!

Some observations:

It's fascinating watching Frances De La Tour as Hagrid's love interest, but how does the casting for these things work? "We need a French giantess. I know - the woman from Rising Damp!"

I would never take any under 10s to see this film (although there were plenty there this afternoon). Some of it is far too frightening, especially the amazing dragon scenes and Harry's fight with 'you know who'. Some of those kids won't be sleeping tonight and may even be scarred for life.

Doctor Who fans MUST see this film, for reasons I can't go into here. After watching the excellent 'linking scene' for Doctor Who on Children In Need last night, and this film today, there's something which I feel I've now seen twice in 24 hours. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, eh viewers?

I loved the little satire on the nature of tabloid journalism that's contained within the film. It's very well done.

It's probably very wrong... [Chig checks IMDB.com. Oh, he's 20. Acceptable. Ish.]... but there's a bit of totty in this film too. Stanislav Ianevski (left) as Viktor Krum is the strong, silent type, who looks as sexy in a big Bulgarian coat and hat as he does in a vest.
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He won! Richard Carr, representing Birmingham's Nightingale is the new Mr Gay UK! Here's another photo of him, from this year's Birmingham Pride, where he was selling drinks. Chig has spoken to Richard this lunchtime and he's back home in Brum already, delighted, but rather hungover. He'll be making an appearance on stage at the Nightingale tonight. Guess where we'll be later? (Even if it is Miss Wet T-shirt night and we were going to give the Gale a miss, because we remember what it was like when Alex Parks was on, if you get my drift.) Well done Rich!

Regular readers (both of you) may be experiencing a strange sense of déja-vu if you remember what happened at last year's Mr Gay UK final, which Chig attended at G-A-Y. Let me just say to anyone thinking of entering the competition next year, you know who you need to make friends with first. Chig is ready and waiting. [Cheeky wink]

No one else from my top 5 yesterday made the top three, but they were my favourites anyway, not predictions. Second was Terry Clarke, representing Boulevard in Portsmouth. Third was Jason Smith of the Flamingo, last night's home venue in Blackpool.


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Tonight! Live! In Blackpool! At Flamingo's! Hosted by Philip Olivier! It's the annual fleshfest that is the Mr Gay UK final. Chig has cancelled his plans to be there, but would like to wish the best of luck to 'our' man, Richard Carr (above), representing the Nightingale. Whisper it quietly, but I think he actually stands a good chance. He is rather sexy AND a lovely bloke. What more do you need? (Well-filled Speedos, I suppose.) Surely this couldn't be the second year running that Chig knows the winner?

Here's Richard being made to look even better by standing next to an ugly bloke. Good luck matey!


Goodbye sailor? Read about the Royal Navy's ridiculous attitude to tonight's contest.
Check out all the competitors.
Chig's favourite, second, third, fourth and fifth.
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Oh Robbie, Robbie, Robbie, why didn't you just bite the bullet and save yourself more years of therapy (and thousands of pounds) by turning up for the reunion for tonight's documentary? Such a damn shame, for you, for the other four, and also for us. It would have made a much better ending to a really good programme.

I thought the nicest bits were seeing Howard and Gary with their respective children. Perhaps I'm just feeling broody. I also can't quite believe how Jason's speaking voice has become less 'Manc' but much more camp in the process.

I really enjoyed the programme, but sadly it wasn't immune from a little bit of shoddy research at the end. So, it's the return of...

Pop Bollox!

The narrator ended the programme by saying that Take That achieved, "eight consecutive number one hits, with eight singles"

No, that's wrong. Their longest run of consecutive number ones was 'only' four, but they did it twice. They had a total of eight number ones in a run of nine singles. They were scuppered by 'Love Ain't Here Anymore', which only made number 3 in the middle of the run. You only need to look in the Guinness Book of British Hit Singles And Albums to know that, or search on everyhit.com. Couldn't the scriptwriters manage either of those?

Not even the Beatles ever managed eight consecutive number ones - their longest run was seven - so it would have been big news indeed if Take That had done it, but they didn't. Abba's total of nine number ones included two hat-tricks, but never more than three in a row. Elvis Presley's longest run was four. Even Westlife stalled after equalling the Beatles on seven, while Madonna's eleven chart-toppers include three pairs, but she's never managed three in a row from consecutive releases. Cliff Richard has also never achieved more than two consecutive number ones.

So, you get my point. It was a big claim indeed for Take That, but it was pop bollox. Sack the researcher!


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It's Take That Day - part two! Here are more previously unseen photos by Chig. This lot were taken at an early Clothes Show Live! at the NEC in Birmingham. It was definitely December, so it must have been 1991, just a couple of weeks after their second single, and debut hit, Promises, had failed to set the charts on fire, relit or otherwise, by peaking at number 38. I knew very well who they were though, and sensed that they were destined for better things, so I made a point of going to see them on the Radio 1 Roadshow stand. That's Jakki Brambles presenting. Younger readers may not realise she used to be on Radio 1, long before she became Hollywood reporter for GMTV (and changed the spelling of her name).


You're probably wondering what on Earth that young woman above is doing. You're not? I'll tell you anyway. She was playing a game whereby she was blindfolded and had to recognise by touch which of three topless young men was her boyfriend. Except that, while she was blindfolded, her real boyfriend was replaced by Hunky Howard! What a cunning wheeze! This game, Feel The Boyband Member, is played out regularly to this day by at least one member of Westlife and one ex-member of V. Let's just take a moment out to think about that. Mmmmmmm.


Where was I? Oh yes, Global Hypercolor t-shirts, remember them? Well they were de rigeur in whatever year it was that these pictures were taken. (Oh, how I wish I labelled my photos properly.) They changed colour as the body inside them heated up. Or, they changed colour when you went into a club and then stayed that colour, so there was no real magic about them at all. Anyway, they were so trendy that Take That were promoting them at the Clothes Show Live. And here they are.


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I despair. Is it just me? (Chig is particularly interested in hearing from any teachers on this one.)
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They're Back, Back, Back For Good!* Hurrah! It's Take That Day! The regurgitated greatest hits album is in the shops this week and the documentary's on the telly tonight. To celebrate, here are some EXCLUSIVE, NEVER SEEN IN PUBLIC BEFORE PHOTOS of the group before they had had a proper hit single. How does Chig know they've never been seen in public before? Because Chig took them, that's how! And they've been sitting in an album on Chig's shelf for nearly 14 years! Hurrah for the internet! Chig would like to point out the copyright signs on these photos. Fansites, feel free to use them, but leave the credit on, or there'll be trouble - and no selling them, okay?

Yes, that really is Robbie with a baby-smooth chest. Did Nigel make him shave it, or was it just pre-puberty? I've always wondered.

If you're good, there may be more photos later tonight, from another pre-fame appearance. (Clue: It involved Global Hypercolour t-shirts and Jakki Brambles.)




*Or until Friday, at least. Catch all four of them (sans Robbie) on Colin and Edith, Radio 1, Friday afternoon.


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Last night's X-Factor eviction was an absolute disgrace. Sharon Osbourne was quite right. Walsh chose to evict the talented Maria over the far less interesting Conway Sisters, simply because they're Irish. There is no other explantion, because the difference in talent between the two acts is quite clear. It was written all over his face. He was thinking, I know I should reject the Conway Sisters, but I need to be able to show my face in Dublin. So, instead of doing the right thing, he took the coward's option. Shameful.

The real question is why the judges weren't choosing between Chico and Nicholas, or one of them plus the Conway Sisters, because they're the three acts who aren't up to the same standard as the others.

Maria, you're better than them, and you should have made the last four or five.
Louis Walsh, you have no integrity whatsoever.


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So Close

It’s been an emotional day today. Firstly, I’ve discovered that my Mum was even closer than I had thought to those bombs in Amman last night. I knew she had been on holiday in Jordan until 24 hours before and I knew she had been in Petra, in the south of the country, but it turns out she was also in Amman for a few days. Not only that, but she was in the Days Inn hotel last week; one of the very hotels that was blown up last night. It’s quite possible that people she saw last week – holidaymakers and staff - have now been killed. That’s too close for comfort and it makes me shudder. My sympathies are with the people of Jordan and everyone else who has been affected.

Generations of Love

In the same phone call today, my Mum told me the news I really hadn’t wanted to hear. Let me just rewind a little. A year ago, the second last of my Grandad’s siblings died – his sister, my Great Aunt Irene. (My Grandad died in 2000.) After Irene’s funeral, I chatted to the last remaining one of the 13 children in my Grandad’s family, Great Aunt Marjorie. She was lively, entertaining, wonderful and nearly 90 years old. She told me on that day that my Great-grandmother, her mother, had actually been French, not just able to speak French, which is as much as I had known from my Grandad, her brother. After the funeral, my sister and I said we should definitely go and see Auntie Marjorie sometime soon. After all, she only lived in Coventry, ten miles away from each of us. She had so many stories to tell, and I should take my tape recorder, in my role as our family’s genealogist, while she still has full control of her faculties. I did nothing about going to see her, except for thinking about it quite often.

Ten days ago, just before my Mum went away, she told me that Marjorie was in hospital, but it wasn’t life-threatening. “We must go and see her when you get back,” I said, “we keep putting it off.” We would, agreed my Mum.

Too late. She died on Saturday. She had leukemia. How can you have leukemia and not know, and die within two weeks? Life is so unfair. I am not only upset that she has died, I’m really, really angry with myself for not going to see her while we had the chance. She was the last of a generation. Thirteen children, all gone. And she was lovely.

Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.

I’ll never forgive myself for not getting off my lazy arse and going to see her. All I can say is, if you have elderly relatives, make the most of them while you have the chance. Regret is a terrible thing, and I'm currently full of it, and quite tearful tonight. Goodnight.


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21:40

Five Live is currently having a discussion about homophobia in football. I texted six of my footie-loving gay friends an hour before, and urged them to text or e-mail the programme. (Yes, six! Between us, we have Aston Villa, Glasgow Rangers, Chelsea, Tranmere, Southend and Bristol City covered.)

Guess which one of us had their e-mail read out, right at the top of the programme? Five Live, Chig loves you!


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00:33

After Tony Blair's first defeat in the Commons yesterday, on the 90 day clause in the Terrorism Bill, he has taken the obvious step to make sure it doesn't happen again. He has cancelled all future elections.


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22:15

Bloody hell. I'm feeling slightly sick, after turning on the 10 O'Clock News and seeing that there have been bombs at three international hotels in Jordan tonight, killing at least 52 people. My Mum only returned from holiday in Jordan last night. When she had told me she was going, I was concerned, and I told her, as did her brother, but the timing of this has just turned my stomach.


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It gives me a handy excuse to show this young spunk* who was one of the hotel staff at my friends' wedding last week in Edinburgh, but I just wanted to let you know that I have finished editing my photos. After much discarding and copyrighting, plus some cropping and red eye reduction, there are 77 pictures available for public viewing right now, on my flickr website here (or click on the throbbing thing on the left). Do not, ON ANY ACCOUNT click on the gallery below the wedding photos, as it includes NAKED RUGBY PLAYERS IN THE SHOWER! You may not be able to control yourself.

*He's Australian - it's a legitimate word.


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By Chig, age 39 1/2.

Quite brilliant, I'm sure you'll agree.
A career in graphic design surely awaits.

Can you do better?

Let's be honest, you could hardly do worse.


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Driving home from work this evening, listening to Simon Mayo's album chart show on Radio 2. He played 'Your Latest Trick' from a 'new' Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler compilation, rehashed released today. That's the track with an instrumental intro that's longer than most hit singles in their entirety. And I found myself thinking, "this is quite good actually". This is Dire Straits, who epitomised everything we were supposed to hate about music in the early 80s (even if I do have a 7" copy of 'Private Investigations'). Aaaaaaagh!


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So, what’s this new project all about then? Thank you for asking. Exactly six months from today, Saturday 6th May 2006, will be Chig’s 40th birthday. This is such a frightening and depressing thought, that I am in need of some constant daily activity on this here blog to perk me up and interact with you, my readers. (Both of you.) Hopefully, this will also be fun for you to play along with during the long, dark days to come. (Ignore that if you’re in the southern hemisphere, but you’re welcome to join in too.)

Here’s the plan. Every few days, starting with 1966 (my year of birth), Chig will be giving you a list of between 5 and 10 songs from that year. They could be my favourite tunes, or songs which have special memories attached for me, or acknowledged classics, or just the biggest songs of that year. At least one song from each year will have a Eurovision connection, but don’t let that put you off.

All you have to do is tell me, in the comments, your top 5 songs from the choice given. I will then give them points; 5 for your favourite down to 1 point for your 5th favourite. The voting will stay open until that year’s piece slides off the bottom of this page into the archives, and then I will add up all the points and declare the winning tune for that year. All the winners will be listed in the sidebar and, after 41 sets of voting, you’ll all be bored senseless and will have stopped reading we’ll have a fabulous 41 track compilation album, which will then be given away to people who have contributed and possibly in some silly competitions too. It may also form the soundtrack to a party I’m tentatively planning, but that’s all a bit hush-hush so keep it to yourself for now. So, not quite as pointless as it seemed at first, is it? It might even be fun.

There’s another bit though. See where I said I’ll suggest ‘between 5 and 10 songs’? That’s because there will be wildcard entries, suggested by you! All you have to do is name your favourite songs of the year which I’ve missed out, and some of them will be added to my list, so that we’ll be voting on ten songs from each year. This is really just because I might have forgotten something an exciting way to ensure ‘reader involvement’ so that I know you’re still there.

This whole project is a blatant rip-off of two of Mike’s best ideas on Troubled-Diva; his 40 in 40 Days project (but I’m far too lazy and uninteresting to write 40 stories like that), and the voting from his annual ‘Which Decade Is Tops For Pops?’ game. I never claimed to be original and I hope he forgives me.

There was also a tentative plan for me to publish a photo of Chig taken in each relevant year, as we get to it, just so you can have a laugh and maybe come back to look at the next one. However, this idea has been temporarily stalled as I’ve realised that the baby photos I had scanned are currently trapped on the hard drive of my old PC. I can’t get the originals from Chigmother for a while, as she is currently doing something that Peter André does on a regular basis. She’s exploring Jordan.

[Pauses for laughter.]

Anyway, when she returns from the Middle East, rest assured that Chig will be ransacking the family albums in order to amuse you.

First things first though. The songs from 1966 will follow in a few days. Yes, it is prepared, thank you very much. I’m not stalling for time, but we need a name first. Every name I’ve come up with has been a bit rubbish. Names considered so far include;

The Tunes of Chig’s Years (blatantly ripped off from Ken Bruce’s ‘The Tracks Of My Years’ on Radio2.)
Chig’s Choons
Chig’s 40 Years / 40 years of Chig’s Choons (both problematic, because 1966-2006 will actually give us 41 tunes, not 40, as you’ll have realised already.)
The Soundtrack to my Life (too overblown and pretentious)
The 40 Years Project
1966 and all that

Please feel free to suggest anything better, or choose one of those, because I know which one I’m edging towards at the moment. When we’ve decided what it’s to be called, we could also do with a logo. So, any of you creative types, please feel free to design one, because that kind of thing is beyond my technical capabilities. There will be a prize for the one we use.

I would particularly like to encourage any people of the female persuasion to participate in this, because my experience is that it tends to be men who enjoy making these kind of lists. I’m not going to analyse why.

That’s about it for today, so please suggest a name and in two or three days we’ll get going with my tracks of 1966.


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Chig was curious to see where the Goldfrapp single ‘Number One’ would end up in today’s chart. Sadly, it hasn’t become a self-fulfilling prophecy, and ends up scraping into the top ten at number nine, but at least it allows us the opportunity for that seemingly unmathematical but factually correct headline.

Goldfrapp may be Madonna’s current listening pleasure (as she revealed on cd;uk yesterday), but they aren’t the first to try this trick. They were nearly the most successful though. In fact, they are the most successful humans to chart with a song called ‘Number One’, although Milo, Bella, Fizz and Jake arguably had a catchier tune. (Curiously, The Tweenies and Goldfrapp both have dog connections; Goldfrapp’s disturbing ones in video and the Tweenies’ canine chums Doodles and Izzles. Perhaps that’s the secret?)

Here are the chart peaks of all six similarly-titled hits. Note how it took 42 years for any hit with this name to appear. There are none from the start of the singles chart in 1952 until the naughtily-named US boyband in 1994.

05 Number 1 - The Tweenies(Nov 2000)
09 Number One – Goldfrapp (Nov 2005)
27 Number One – EYC (May 1994)
47 Number One – A (April 1998)
58 Number One/The Ritual – Ebony Dubsters (May 2004)
66 Number One – Playgroup (Nov 2001)


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... of Chig's new music and voting project thingy will be right here later today. In the meantime, let's have rousing chorus of "Happy Half-Birthday to Chig". Yes, that's right, I'm 39 and a half today! Hurrah!


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...but in the meantime...


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...and in preparation for tomorrow's 400th anniversary of the foiling of the gunpowder plot, why not visit diamondgeezer for the lowdown on the whole she(not quite)bang? If you do, you'll find out that the 400th anniversary of Guido's gang being caught is actually today, not tomorrow. The third part of his trilogy will, I dare to suggest, be tomorrow.

Two days to go until the launch of Chig's little project thingy...


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I've been watching the Question Time Tory leadership head-to-head and I can confidently say that David will win.


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This Sunday will be a slightly significant milestone in Chig's life, so it seems the ideal day for an uplifting, music-related announcement. Sadly, Radio 1 has yet to agree to my suggestion that the inane JK and Joel monkeys be prevented from desecrating* the so-called chart show any longer, and that they be placed in stocks outside Broadcasting House where the public can see, as well as hear, what utter twats they are, and someone decent who actually cares about music and knows something about it will be allowed to give us our Top 40 back. No, that announcement must be next month. (Surely? Please.) In the meantime, we'll have to rely on another announcement. So, at long last, three years after our splendid Fifty Years of Number Ones Project (see sidebar), World Of Chig will be announcing a brand new, interactive 'project' type thingy, which will drag on for months and months, until May in fact, ending just before the highly significant life event which is related to the significant event this Sunday. Or when people stop participating, whichever is the sooner. Confused? Good.

Suffice it to say that this new thing will be about music. Hurrah! It will involve you making lists. Hurrah again! It will involve voting, by you, dear reader, and a big Excel spreadsheet by me. Thrice hurrah! What could be more exciting? Only the prospect of full-on snogging and sexual intercourse with Shayne from 'Shayne's Path To Pop Stardom and Being Chig's Houseboy'; a fly-on-the-wall documentary which you might know as The X Factor, but that's another story.



(Gratuitous picture.)

Bet you can't wait. See you on Sunday. (There might be other stuff in the meantime. You never can tell.)


*Note to JK and Joel: that word doesn't mean 'shitting on', but it might as well.
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In fact, I've had a fantastic weekend, and ended up staying three nights in Edinburgh, not just the two I intended. The wedding was brilliant, and I've also caught up with friends, briefly checked out the Edinburgh gay scene and fallen in love with the city all over again. More later in the week, but after a considerable amount of Scots whisky last night and a six hour drive back home today, Chig needs to sleep!


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It's behind you! Would you marry a man this reckless?

And so, six weeks after the the stag weekend, comes the wedding.

Chig is off to Edinburgh today for the wedding of the year tomorrow. (It's the only wedding I'm attending this year, so it's the wedding of the year as far as I'm concerned.) I'm being an usher at the nuptials of my old friend Bristolcream (above) and his lovely fiancée, who doesn't yet have an amusing nom-de-plume from me. It's my first time as an usher and I'm really looking forward to it. (I still haven't been anyone's best man, and I can't imagine that happening now.)

I'm also looking forward to seeing Edinburgh again after several years. This is the first time, despite about seven visits to the Scottish capital, that I've been at a 'normal' time of year. I've never been when it hasn't been either Edinburgh Festival time or Hogmanay. I'm expecting it to seem a bit quiet. I'll be staying in Leith for the next two nights. I wonder...I wonder...


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Celebrate Bonfire Night!

I do hope we're all making plans to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot next weekend. With 5th November falling on a Saturday this time, there's really no excuse not to, and it may well be the last chance we have without breaking the law. If Blair's idiotic legislation on inciting religious hatred and praising terrorism makes it onto the statute books, we may never be able to celebrate the capture of Guido Fawkes and his Catholic gang again, although it's open to debate whether we're celebrating what they tried to do, or the fact that they were caught. I've never quite worked that one out. As a Catholic who believes in parliamentary democracy, you can appreciate my dilemma.

It may sound far-fetched to think that either of these pernicious pieces of forthcoming legislation could stop such a longstanding British tradition, and of course the law-makers will tell us that it's not the intention, but, if this rubbish gets passed, come next year, some council, somewhere, will decide they can't run the risk of being prosecuted, and will refuse to organise or licence any displays. Then the paranoia will spread like wild, er, 'fire' and displays across the country will vanish. More people will then have unsafe illegal bonfire parties, more people will be injured, and eventually more people will be killed on bonfire night than terrorists have ever managed to kill in this country.

Fight back now! Write to your MP.

We'll be off to the display at the Warwickshire County cricket ground in Edgbaston. I presume they're not so bothered about scorch marks on the pitch, now that the season has ended.


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20:10 The answer to yesterday's question was that only the BBC and French television have decided NOT to show the Congratulations show - tonight's live show from Copenhagen, which I am having to watch right now in a very small screen indeed on Turkish TV's website. Thank you TRT for streaming it.

It feels like most people I know are there in the Forum in Copenhagen, so this is a bit of a lonely experience. It'll be even more frustrating later when we can't even vote for the favourite Eurovision song of all time (from the shortlist of 14). Of course it will be Waterloo, but I'd like Ein Bisschen Frieden and Poupee de Cire to do well. For the first time tonight, we would have been able to vote for a UK song (Congratulations or Save Your Kisses For Me), but, thanks to the BBC, we can't. To think I pay my licence. Cheers, BBC. Was BBC Three really too busy with Robbie Williams and yet another repeat of Little Britain for us to see this show live? I've known for five months that this wouldn't be on, and I'm still fuming.

[Takes deep breath and settles in front of the PC.]


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What will the residents of the following countries...

Andorra, Austria, Belgium, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Croatia, Cyprus, Denmark, Finland, FYR Macedonia, Germany, Greece, Iceland, Ireland, Israel, Latvia, Lithuania, Malta, Monaco, The Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Serbia & Montenegro, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey and Ukraine

...be able to do this weekend, and residents of the following countries...

Australia, Armenia and Estonia

...be able to do later, while those of us in the UK and France won’t be able to do at all? (It’s nothing to do with Trafalgar Day, despite the singling out of those two countries.)

Clue: Chig is f*cking furious about it.
Answer tomorrow, if I haven’t exploded with anger by then.


*Because I forgot - you can't leave a comment anyway. The provider that I was using for the comments boxes has gone out of business. Really must sort out an alternative.

Saturday update: It's done - comments are back! Did it all on my own too. You don't know how pleased I am with myself.
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Chig has been out to see Robbie Williams live in concert. It was brilliant. But Robbie wasn't actually there:


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Two problems have suddenly inflicted themselves on my PC. Are they connected?

Firstly, LimeWire won't go away. I close it down, make sure it's gone by clicking on Exit at the bottom, and then, a minute or two later, there it is popping up again! This is happening regardless of whether or not I'm online. I have definitely unticked the 'Connect on startup' box in Tools/Options/Connections, so why is this happening?

Please make it go away! It's driving me round the frigging bend.

Secondly, when I ran my Ad-Aware scan last night, it revealed that there is a worm on my PC. (This has only arrived in the last 6 days, since the last scan.) It's called WIN32.P2P-WORM.ALCAN.A.

What exactly is it doing? How dangerous is it? Why doesn't the Ad-Aware cleansing get rid of it? More importantly, how can I get rid of it?

I've found various references to this worm on the internet, but if anyone can help me deal with either of these problems in plain English, non-techno geek speak, I would be immensely grateful.

Oh yeah, there's also a mysterious programme called 'xz' which Microsoft is advising me on startup that it is refusing to open on safety grounds. Presumably, this is some destructive program connected with the worm? Is this also connected to the LimeWire problem?

Since I started writing this, LimeWire has opened up six or seven times. I'm walking away from the PC now, before I do something I regret, but any help will be gratefully received. There is even the possibility of a reward. Name your price.

Yours, in despair,
Chig


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Sven Goran Eriksson's house has been attacked by vandals, it is reported today. Someone has apparently thrown a brick through one of his windows.

Police have said that they don't suspect any of the England players, as the aim was on target.

I thank you.

Let's wait until tomorrow afternoon's result before we decide just how funny that joke really is, shall we?


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"Look at my puppies", exclaims Myleene.

"We are", smirk the two small dogs in her hands.
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Better to regret the things you’ve done than the things you haven’t.

I’m so glad, with the sad news of Ronnie Barker’s death, announced today, that he was persuaded out of retirement after all these years to front ‘The Two Ronnies Sketchbook’ earlier this year. It’s almost as if he knew he didn’t have long left, isn’t it? Those Friday night programmes in the Spring made me laugh all over again at sketches I hadn’t seen for 30 years, along with some oft-repeated classics and some I didn’t remember at all. It was great to hear the bits of new material that they added to the show as well. Their comic touch was still very much there.

I have fond memories of Saturday night TV as a child; Doctor Who, The Generation Game, Seaside Special (if we were unlucky), The Two Ronnies, Parkinson and Match Of The Day when I was allowed to stay up. If it weren’t for the football, I might never have seen The Two Ronnies first time around. I was aware, even when I was under ten, that some of it was a bit rude. Even worse, when I understood the jokes and tried not to laugh too much in front of my parents! Happy days indeed, and I wonder whether any one person has made as many people in this country laugh via the TV as Ronnie Barker did, if you add in Porridge and Open All Hours. He was an amazing character actor, a comic with brilliant timing and, judging by the tributes on TV and radio today (from ordinary people on Radio 2 for example), a very caring and likeable man.

We’ll leave the final tribute to the man himself:

“I would like to be remembered as one of the funniest men that people have seen on television.”

Job done, I think.


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1. David Cameron is younger than me (by five months).

Er, that’s about it. Obviously the rest of the inter-pensioner squabbling, and the idea that one leader can unite what is really several different parties, is all as amusing as ever.


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...and compilation album of the year so far...

You mere mortals can buy your own copies from 7 November...he says, perhaps a bit too smugly. Look on the bright side - yours will have a better sleeve.


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So there I am, two days after our fantastic stag weekend in Nottingham, opening my zip when a small cock pops out. Stop it now, you smutty devils. What I mean is that, as I opened the side pocket to my rucksack at work yesterday, what should I find but this little fella on the left. Quite a surprise, because (a) it's not mine and (b) I didn't put it in my bag. But I did have the bag with me at the weekend...

We know who you are, you and your jolly stag weekend japes. You're not supposed to be playing the tricks on me! It's not me who's getting married! (Well, I might be actually, but that really is another story...) So, the question is, how do I get it back to the best man - to whom it surely belongs, as Chig was staying at his flat? I have a feeling Chig may be taking a little chicken to the wedding - and I don't mean as my plus one!

NB. Chig is well aware of the difference between female hens and male cockerels. Perhaps more so than the makers of that egg timer. That, surely, is a cockerel, is it not? Whatever. 'Chig's small hen' would probably not have made you laugh.


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"I think you'll find that's your squirrel problem sorted."
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Record companies are stupid. All of them. Bit of a sweeping statement, surely? Well no. Go to Popjustice, download today's splendid free gift, and then;

(a) marvel at how you can get quality new pop like this for free within a few seconds
(b) despair at the fact that The Genie Queen don't have a record deal and that this had to be given away for free

Chig completely agrees with Popjustice. This is a number one single, wasted. Tragic.
(Of particular interest if you ever liked OMD.)

Then come back and comment on it here. Please?


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It starts tonight. Oh yes. Chig's first ever.

+ + + +
=

Look out Nottingham, here we come!


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From today's news. Who knew the Busted reunion would come around so quickly?
Oh, sorry, they're England cricketers dressed as schoolboys. Silly me.


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With the nights drawing in and the cricket over, Summer is coming to an end. But don't be sad, because look! There is something to look forward to in January (and February, and March, etc. etc.)

Dear Father Christmas...
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When you get to meet the most famous man in Wales* and you only get one chance to have your photo taken, because he's about to disappear with his girlfriend, currently the most famous woman in Wales, try not to speak to the stranger who has kindly offered to take the picture, telling him which button to press, because he will probably press the shutter at that precise moment, you will look like you're pulling a funny face, Gavin Henson will turn around and follow Charlotte Church out of the media tent, and you will regret the look on your face in that photo for the rest of your life, but still feel a need to show everybody anyway.

*Apart from the Prince of Wales. Possibly. And Rhodri Morgan. And Tom Jones. And Aled Jones. And Kelly Jones from Stereophonics. And probably some other people called Jones. And Russell T. Davies.



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21:03 Chig Mansions has just been on the telly! Okay, so it was only a helicopter shot of the area on C4's Britain's Tornado: An Equinox Special, but still. There's some amazing footage of 'our' local tornado of 28 July. I should go and watch this programme properly.

Cardiff, thank you for asking, was awesome. An amazing weekend, for all sorts of reasons (cheeky grin), but all that will have to wait for another day.


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18:15 We've won!
You'd almost think I was interested in cricket, wouldn't you?


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Well, almost. This weekend sees the end of the unofficially declared Pride and Mardi Gras season, which starts with Birmingham in late May. But we're ending on a good one. Hello Cardiff! (As Nicki French- who announced me ON STAGE at Oxford Pride as her stalker - will undoubtedly be saying when she appears again this weekend. I'm not really sure who's stalking who, to be honest. I swear she followed me to Leicester, Oxford and Bristol...) Hmm, I had forgotten about this though. (Read this from Mike if you're unfamiliar with the atmosphere of local Pride events. It makes me laugh every time.)

Cardiff-Wales Mardi Gras is now in its seventh year, and this is a major year for Cardiff because the city is celebrating its centenary AND fifty years as the Welsh capital. Mardi Gras has been absolutely brilliant there for the last two years when I've attended, and I've made friends there who I'm looking forward to seeing again this weekend, plus related friends from Bristol and Reading. Two years ago, I was in the Marriott, courtesy of the Wales Tourist Board. Last year, by way of contrast, I was camping in Penarth for the weekend, which, although fun in itself (and it was gloriously hot last year), stopped me getting drunk as I had to drive back to the campsite both nights. So, I've learnt my lesson, and this weekend will be a combination of the two; camping tonight and then a four star hotel by Cardiff Castle for Saturday and Sunday nights. Last year, because the weather was so good, we were dancing on the streets until closing time on the Sunday night too, so this year I've finally, hopefully, got it right by not going home (which I did on the Sunday in 2003) and not having to drive to my accommodation either.

On Saturday morning, there's a gay rugby tournament taking place at Blackweir Fields, before the main Mardi Gras event. Both Cardiff and Bristol now have gay rugby teams, and one of my friends plays for Cardiff Lions. They beat Bristol Bisons 24-15 two weeks ago at Bristol Mardi Gras. (You can see some of the rugger buggers in my flickr photos - click the photo link in the sidebar. Some of the pictures were too rude to be seen in public. There's really not much difference between gay and straight rugby players! There's a mix in some, if not all, of the teams anyway.)

This weekend, the Lions and the Bisons will be joined by gay teams from the Netherlands, Sweden, Manchester, and possibly Edinburgh and Dublin, for a series of shorter games on Saturday. Later on, the Cardiff boys will be, er, revealing their own version of the saucy Dieux du Stade calendar. Yes, it's rugby boys in the buff, Welsh stylee. Modesty forbids me from mentioning who suggested to a certain member of the team last year that they should do this, but it should be interesting to see. My mate John is Mr July. Make up your own jokes about oddly shaped balls.

I see Bjorn Again are on the main stage on Saturday. That's two Abba connections in consecutive posts on here. Last year we had Charlotte Church. I'm guessing she'll be too busy (drinking) this time around, but you never know.

See you in Cardiff! (Or not, if you're not going, obviously.)


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Ring, ring, ring goes the telephone,
The lights are on, but there’s no one home.
Tick, tick, tock, it’s a quarter to two,
I’m done, I’m hanging up on you.

Ev’ry little thing that you say or do,
Hung up, I’m hanging up on you.

So, the rumours were true, but not quite what we thought. Madonna's new single does indeed sample Abba. She even sings the words "ring, ring", but it's not Abba's Ring Ring that she's sampling - it is in fact Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man After Midnight). Fascinatingly, it's a speeded up version of the track, just like erasure used to perform. It wasn't one of the four Abba tracks that they performed on the Abba-esque EP, but erasure used to perform Gimme Gimme Gimme live. I have a tape of them performing it on Radio 1 at the Milton Keynes Bowl with Whoo Gary Davies presenting, and it gets faster and faster towards the end, which Abba's 1979 original doesn't do. I also have it on the live Two Ring Circus album, which pre-dates the Abba-esque EP by a whole five years. The lyric to Gimme Gimme Gimme is also on erasure's official website.

Anyway, Madonna. Hung Up is a return to dancey pop! It’s a floor filler! It’s fantastic and I'm playing it on repeat (which, considering I only have a 28 second snippet, is very repetitive indeed).

Madge, welcome back. All is forgiven.

PS. Thank you - you know who you are.


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I thought it was about time I actually did something with the flickr photo account that I opened several months ago. Like put some photos in it. So I have. Just as a little test.

See that thing in the sidebar? You can hardly miss it - it's pulsing and throbbing! Ooh, technology! On here! Well, click on there and you will see half a dozen of Chig's photos from Bristol Mardi Gras two weeks ago. Please feel free to let Chig know what you think of them, either in the comments boxes on there or on here. Who knows, there may even be more photos to come. As I have taken thousands (literally) of photos that no one else has ever seen, it might be a good idea to actually use these online album thingies. If you have any requests of past events/places that you know I've been to (or if I've taken a photo of you, promised to e-mail it to you, and then ignored you), then please just drop a subtle hint.

Enjoy!

Oh, and if I see any of these photos used anywhere else without my permission and a credit, there'll be trouble! So there.


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I dreamt that four friends and I watched a football match at the flat of two of those chums. In this game, the country ranked 7th in the world pretended to be a crap Sunday league team and allowed their opponents to win, even though the opponents were ranked something like 117th in the world. In this dream, this wasn't done in a magnanimous attempt to unite what had once been a politically divided part of the world in joyous celebration of actually winning something against a much more populous and powerful country, but just because the supposedly better team were actually rubbish. Unlikely, I know, but that's what I dreamt.

And then I woke up.


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It’s none of my business, but, if it were, I would probably give tonight’s Nationwide Mercury Music Prize to The Go! Team. Their album, Thunder, Lightning, Strike is the one of the twelve which has caused the most joy and dancing around Chig Mansions, and that’s reason enough for me.

We’ll have no complaints if it goes to Kaiser Chiefs or Hard-Fi, as both of those albums are brilliant too, but as the point of the Mercury seems to be to ‘promote’ British music, I’d rather it went to someone who hasn’t yet had the success they deserve. The Go! Team have been mentioned in all the right places, but no one’s buying. My boyfriend Dermot even plugs them on his radio show, but to no avail. They need the publicity. Give it to them.

Having said that, I am now about to contradict myself, but it’s my blog and I’m allowed, so there. The one contender who really MUST NOT BE ALLOWED to win tonight is/are Antony & The Johnsons. Their album is without doubt the best of the lot, but I’m having a personal relationship with it – it’s the only one of the twelve which has made me cry, for instance – and the last thing I want is for the public to get their grubby little hands on it and make them famous. People would probably go and discover The Dresden Dolls next, and then my life would be ruined. Have I told you I never liked Scissor Sisters?

So, The Go! Team it must be, with their uncategorisable brand of all-over-the-place shouty pop. There, I’ve categorised it – it’s all-over-the-place shouty pop. What more do you need to know?

The Magic Numbers will win.

Meanwhile, over at Popjustice, and the rather more important Twenty Quid Music Prize, the Chig vote goes to Robbie Williams' Radio. But it’s too late to vote now. The ‘judges’ are probably picking the winner out of a hat at this very moment. Just like the Mercury judges will do later. (Oh, come on, you don’t think anyone seriously liked Dizzee Rascal, do you?)


22:30 Damn!/Fantastic! Antony & The Johnsons won. Well deserved, but now I'll have to answer the 'who are they?'. 'what are they like?' questions at work tomorrow...


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Passionate? Did that in the last posting.

Sensitive, baby-friendly new man? Oh yes, we can do that too...



Almost indistinguishable, I'm sure you'll agree.


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