Sunday, December 20, 2009

That'll Be Christmas

I can't really be arsed to write anything. It's been about 3 weeks now. It's not that I'm down or anything. No, I'm just a bit flat and finding it hard to initiate anything. I have the beginnings of a new album I've started recording waiting on me patiently in my studio (i.e. small boxroom/big cupboard... but studio sounds a bit flasher) but I can't bear to continue it at the moment.




However, I have been doing things. I have started presenting my show on community radio again, my own special nauseus blend of classic rock, pop and self promotion.

I also organised a christmas lunch for my friends last weekend... well I say lunch, everyone left around two o'clock apart from me and my mate who stayed out drinking for 12 hours until the pubs closed. The first time I've been out in the boozer for years. The pubs were amazingly dead quiet. They must have heard I was coming.




I was of course punished for my sin of binge drinking and the good lord in all his glory saw fit to strike me down with the fucking cold once again!!! I had only just recovered from the last one.




Despite a few inches of snow outside, Mrs Mo has driven south with her friend to Newcastle to see Mamma Mia on stage tonight. She was suddenly given free tickets from her boss whose wife has just left him.... well "every cloud" I guess. I told her I wasn't worried about her driving in this weather but I don't think I convinced her (maybe I shouldn't have looked out her life insurance policy ;o)). Anyway, I've finally got bored playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook and decided to write something instead to try and distract me.

I still haven't heard anything back from the DVLA despite their letter of 14th November assuring  me they would notify me of their decision within 14 days. Quelle surprise. El bastardos talko mierda.

Oh, and despite writing the best Christmas single for years, poor old Thea Gilmore hasn't even made the charts. If you like the track you can download it for free at Amazon.com

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Radio Ga Ga

Last night I played live on local radio. Despite being on air for an hour, I only managed to play three songs. The rest of the time I chatted endless garbage of shameless self promotion, plugging my new album. Earlier in the year I had presented a show on the station for a few months before my summer downer arrived.




Today Dr Woodstock arrived at the house much earlier than planned, I was still eating my crunchy nut cornflakes. I lied through my back teeth inbetween gulping, crunching and spilling milk on my T-Shirt.



I told her everything was great, my mood was brilliant, I was sleeping well and had all but stopped drinking. My only concern was about my driving licence.What could she do? She could hardly call me a liar and in the absence of any objective evidence or monitoring she can only record my account of things.



She then pulled out the form from the DVLA and completed it in front of me. I told her this was a real conflict of interest, a bit like someone with a gunshot wound going to A&E and that I felt she should have warned me of her obligation of disclosure before I confided in her. I certainly wouldn't have been candid in my answers. She said it wasn't her fault and that Ben Elton (my first shrink) should have told me. That must be the mission statement of every NHS doctor... "It's not my fault".





Anyway she told me her responses as she filled them in. "Last episode October" so there I go, less than 3 months. "Harmful drinking above recommended limits" (however she did add "recently reduced"). So it all looks like it's done and dusted, licence gone. However, Moonstone felt it would not be a problem and as I hadn't been manic recently I should be fine. She was convinced I would be OK. This is a total turnaround from the last time I saw here when she said she was seriously concerned about my alcohol levels and that I contact DVLA immediately. My GP had also told my wife that none of "his bipolars" were allowed to drive. Once again it's complete inconsistency from the medical profession.I'm really pissed off with being fucked about.