Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Today, walking around trendy Hoxton in London, it's become clear that the ironic mullet which started here a few years ago has all but died. Instead of looking like Doncaster Rovers footballers from 1985, the chaps round here are all sporting the 1945 Hitler Youth look - short, back and sides haircut, muzzie and an Aryan-staring-at-the-glorious-Third Reich-horizon look in their eyes. Sadly, outside of the capital and particularly in the midlands, full grown adult men are walking around with rat's tails, mad bleach jobs, crap pre-faded jeans and Top Man blazers. They will regret this. For now, they carry on, thinking that looking like you've just made it to the last 100 in Pop Idol is somehow cool. Rubbish.
I'd like to think that my weblog will become a forum for debate, where artists, writers, musicians and other creative people can meet to share ideas. I'd like to think that, but that would be wrong. I reckon the ony people who'll bother looking at my nonsense will be the assorted losers, beauts and whoppers who already pollute my life. Great.