The Secret Of The Mighty Calves

jimbob Well if you didn't notice, I have a brand new shop, which took me quite a while to build, during my week of being ill, but rah, it's pretty cool, and it's got CDs and MP3s and T-Shirts with accurate size information and Don Shoes and canvas prints AND original artwork from years and years back in it, so it's pretty much a high end boutique or something by this point. You can buy multiple things at once! The MP3s get sent out STRAIGHT AWAY! Truly it is a thing of futuristic wonder.

So, yeah. Go and have a poke around. You might find some entertainment in my product descriptions, if it's entertainment you require.

So, yeah, that up there is a picture of Jimbob from out of Carter USM rocking his I Am Not Dead (Yeah!) T-Shirt onstage with Chris T-T at the Carter aftershow on Saturday. I was meant to be there, but I was ill. Lame! Still, it's pritty, pritty awesome to have a guy who used to adorn the cover of my Welsh textbook rocking one of my lovely garms at his reunion show. He bought it from my shop too! I didn't even notice, so I must have signed his poster "James", or something. Which reminds me - do feel free to add notes with your orders to remind me of who you are if I know you. Actually, feel free to add notes if I don't know you. Brightens up my post days.

So, I am approaching the realms of the Better, which is exciting, and lucky, as I am off to see my little common-law niece this weekend, and I'd hate to be anything other than a robust, energetic, action packed Uncle Adam for her. I might have to do some exercise in preparation. Last time I saw her she had me chasing a balloon around a living room for 5 hours or something. I may not be an old man yet, but I am certainly not a teenager anymore, although saying that I wasn't the most active of teenagers, as the stinky-jockstrap school-sports culture created a vast and frightening aversion to Physical Activity in me, sending me off round the back of the mobile teaching units with the other scrotes to smoke cigarettes and plot mischief. However, I did live over half an hour from the nearest bus-stop, and 40 minutes from the phonebox, so I did a great deal of walking along a windswept coastline singing Radiohead's Creep to myself  on my way to phone my girlfriend. I could't phone her from the landline - my Dad would pick up the phone downstairs and make smoochy noises, and my little brothers would hang around outside the door giggling. Hence my mighty calves. You could smash skulls with my calves.

OK, I am off to post Don Shoes to four corners of the Earth. Literally. With any luck I'll finish the Dead remix video afterwards. Either way, there's gonna be some swell audio visual for your asses tomorrow, so keep it locked.