Yes, today is the big day, exactly one month prior to The Big Day, and what better way to start it than by burning lots of toast and watching He-Man cartoons?
Indeed. And when I say He-Man, I don't mean 80s Masters Of The Universe. I mean 2002 He-Man And The Masters of The Universe, and I mean the first two episodes, which concern the origins of both He-Man AND Skeletor, something the original cartoons never bothered with, as they still had one foot in He-Man And The Masters Of The Universe's TRUE origins as a line of aborted Conan The Barberian toys that got their bodies repainted and their rubber heads swapped when it turned out that basing a line of toys on an R rated movie wasn't going to fly.
Funny how it goes. I was watching He-Man round my aunties house and babbling about the "bower of greskill" around the same time I was dressing up as Adam Ant and babbling about "doggy doggy doggy", so its no surprise my unconscious directed me in that direction this morning, just like its no surprise that I went to America with a microphone grafted onto a He-Man sword and war paint on my face in 2004. Just like its no surprise I just burned ANOTHER pair of toasts. I shall try one more time, and if that fails I shall switch to cereal.
See? That is LEARNING. And that picture up there is DJ Jack Nimble and I having got our set sorted last night, with the aid of Time Keeping Tomato, and... OH SHIT I COULD USE TIME KEEPING TOMATO TO TIME MY TOAST AND STOP ME BURNING IT UNDER THE GRILL ALL THE TIME! HOLY CRAP!
Let us try this thing...
OK, Time Keeping Tomato is set. Right. So, yes, we're playing a relatively short set, as we're making room for Mr Adam Ant (the punnish nature of whose name was only revealed to me YESTERDAY, on twitter, by Kieron Gillen, who himself only realised last year, oh the humility), and by God have we crammed a lot into that short space. It's going to be very dope, as I haven't played with just myself and a DJ since the days of Birddogg (HAI!) back in 05. BJ has been telling me to do it for a bloody age and now I am finally executing, with my old pal DJ Jack Nimble, who reminded me last night that he has been telling me to get a Mac since 2006, so it looks like 2011 is the year of getting round to doing stuff certain people have been suggesting I do for ages, and since my auntie Sheila has been telling me i need to make a million pounds and buy my mum a house for a decade that sounds pretty frikkin SWEET.
Oh, hang on, it's Tomato Time...
YES! IT WORKED! TOAST NOT BURNED! TOAST DELICIOUS! DON NO LONGER RAVENOUS WITH HUNGER! WIN!
Damn, I wonder why I never thought of that before. What a doof.
Anyway, I think Jack's outside, so I bet get off. We gotta rehearse a bit more before tonight. So if you can, make sure you get your fine ass down the The Garage, Highbury, London, TONIGHT, certainly before NINE, but optimally at SEVEN, cos all the bands are GREAT, and if you can't well, you could do worse than pouring yourself a tasty beverage, or rolling yourself a tasty plane, and watching the 2002 He-Man And The Masters of The Universe series, as it is dope, and dope gives hope and scope, in these strange, amazing days.