Tuesday 29 June 2010

Migraines & Hayfever

I've just got back from a short trip to London, where I encountered the mythical beast known as "Hayfever".

I say mythical beast as it seems to be one of those things that people say they have and you go "yeah, whatever" and don't actually understand what they're complaining about. A few sneezes when you're near a plant, right?

After discovering that this is not the case, I thought I should describe my own experience just in case anyone who thinks like I used to do reads this. But first, I want to tell you about migraines.

Migraines seem to be a common excuse for not doing things, and I always thought it was like a bad headache... a poor reason to go lay down for a bit. This seems to be the general consensus so I went along with it. I guess you never really know until you have one. Sort of like the flu... you think it's like a bad cold, but in reality it's a horrendous period of time in which you cannot move without wanting to vomit, but are unable to even do that.

So the migraine for me was probably the worst thing I've ever experienced. Sure, a headache is part of it, but the worst possible full head pain... add to this a constant feeling of dizziness, confusion and nausea... and it's pretty much the worst time of your life. And it just goes on for days! They can be triggered by all sorts of things like stress, heat, noise, lights... and I think mine was a combination of many factors.

Anyway, I'm not one to complain too much, I'm just making sure that you know migraines aren't just an excuse to not do anything. You simply can't do anything when you have one, it's horrible. Going for a lie down in a dark room with some paracetamol is actually the best thing you can do when one is taking place.

Hayfever is another new one to me, first making itself known on Friday, just 4 days ago as I write this. I was in a park on a hot day, where lots of dust was being kicked around. After a few hours of being there, my right eye begins to become irritated, like there is something stuck in it. A few hours of poking and prodding at it, and nothing comes out. I decide to pay a visit to the chaps at St. John Ambulance, who have a look in my eye with a torch and then tell me it's hayfever. "EH?!" was my instant reaction. I've not been sneezing or had any bad reactions to any plants before in my life! The bloke with the torch asks me if it feels like my eye needs to be scratched, which it did. He then says he takes a tablet every day for hayfever himself, and that I can go buy some from the nearby medicine stand.

This being a festival, the tablets were £5 for 7. I told them to keep them, and that I would just put up with it. Bad idea. As the day went on, my eye continued to water and feel really sore from being poked too much. Sort of like having a load of soap and/or onions in your eye at all times. My right sinus began to hurt too, and eventually a headache of almost migraine category spread from the front to the back of the right side of my brain. I even tried washing out my eye with water at one point, which didn't help either!

So there you have it. Two of the most common complaints that people make are actually horrible. Who would have thought it?

Next time: Something considerably more positive.

Tuesday 22 June 2010

Listen Right,

Listen right,

This is a post about my favourite way to begin a letter.

The story behind this one involves my housemate of many years, Jamil... and some berk who was living here when we moved in, called Ian. This Ian character was a terrible human being who was very much all about himself, especially when it came to money. He would avoid paying bills, buying essential household items like washing up liquid (but using whatever had been bought), and refused to chip in to the council tax. We even had to change our internet password to prevent him using it since he wouldn't pay the phone or internet bills!

His reasoning for not paying the council tax was that he shouldn't have to pay it when another three of us didn't need to at the time as we were students or unemployed. That's the law, but he was such a skinflint that he went down to the council offices and changed our housing type so that the landlord had to pay the council tax instead.

In order to pay this new bill, our rent got bumped up by £5 a week. Not a big problem on a weekly basis, but that's a extra £260 a year each, which we would rather have kept and just paid the council tax ourselves. It wasn't a problem for Ian though, he was living in the tiny spare room and only paying £25 a week even with the added £5. He was also working a lot, or playing with his expensive games consoles and iPhone. He could have easily just paid his share.

We decided we'd had enough of this berk. He said he was going to move out at the end of the year, but we couldn't really cope that long. It's very awkward being in the kitchen at the same time as someone you never want to speak to or be around.

So, Jamil wrote him a nice letter, which is presented here:

The bit about TV license was an issue because the housing type had been changed to a student flat instead of a family home. This means each person needs to get a TV license for their own room. Thankfully, we got it changed back when he moved out, but the rent is the same. I suppose it would have gone up at some point anyway, but it's always good to be able to pin the blame on an utter berk.

Signing it from "The Lads" seemed a bit cheeky of Jamil since he did it one night when wrecked and the rest of us were asleep. However, it needed to be said, and it's pretty damn funny to look back on now!

Thankfully, rather than talking to any of us, he wrote us a letter back. It isn't anywhere near as succinct, and sadly not even as hilarious. You can tell he's a berk from his bad use of words though:


It was still a long time before he moved out. It felt like forever! But thankfully we saw the last of him ages ago now. These letters are still present on his old room door, for pure comedic value. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed re-visiting them and reminding myself of a terrible time that came to pass. Life is pure bliss compared to back then!

So, the phrase "Listen right," is now regarded as a classic motivational letter opener. I can already imagine using it in many everyday situations:

Listen right, can I have a job?

Listen right, do you want to go out tonight?

Listen right, sorry for your loss.

...and so on. In the immortal words of Neil Buchanan: "Try it yourself!"

Monday 21 June 2010

Sean Bean's Haunted Computer & The Tiny Hot Water Bottles

Since I've only just started this blog, I feel like I should share some treats from before I had it. Things which you may or may not have read before (depending on how well you know me), but are still relevant as ever. One fine example of this is here for your viewing pleasure. It begins with "Today..." which was actually written on the 13th of May 2010. So not that old, news-wise. I hope you enjoy it (again)!

Today I went to donate some blood, my tenth time (I got a medal and everything)! To mark the occasion, I thought I'd share my two most memorable blood donor stories. It's kind of all in one big lump of text, but you'll hopefully follow it easily enough.

The male nurse who stuck the needle in my arm today looks like Sean Bean as Sharpe. I always expect him to make some terrible Sharpe pun when jabbing me, and I hope to one day catch him humming "Over The Hills And Far Away". Next time I go, I will try and sneak a camera in there... but he really is the spitting image of Sheffield's favourite son.

Sean Bean, male nurse


Sadly the illusion is ruined by his mackem accent, but he's always in good spirits and makes better conversation than most of the other staff. Rather than the usual "are you a student?" or "are you doing much tonight?" questions, he tends to spout some utter madness. It normally starts with him asking if whatever T-shirt I happen to have on is a band shirt, which it almost always is. On a previous occasion, he told me how much he was looking forward to going to Sonisphere or similar, to see Metallica and Linkin Park. I'm sure the real Sean Bean prefers some brutal speedcore, but as stated, this bloke just looks like him.

Anyway, I always look forward to seeing him at the church I donate in, just to see what mental things he's been doing in the last couple of months (you'll see why when you read on). He's pretty entertaining, even when he's just singing along to the cheesy 80s crap on the radio.

Today his banter was lacking, and he stuck to the usual "are you alright?" stuff. I tried to make some japery as he said he had to wait 3 minutes for some alcohol cleaning stuff to dry on my arm, by suggesting he gets a pocket fan. Sadly he took the serious route and had a minor rant about health and safety. I suppose you have to have some consideration for such matters when handling bags of blood all day.

However, I will never forget the sheer insanity of my first conversation with him, many donations ago. He was on tea duty, so he has to make conversation with anyone who's just had a good old bleed. It was a quiet time of day so I was the only person he had to talk to for a short while. After the usual t-shirt conversation (I actually wasn't wearing a band shirt for a change, I remember) he randomly asked me if I was any good with computers. I'm not an expert, but I'm typing this now... so I clearly have some knowledge. His predicament involved him not being connected to the internet, something I have experienced many times but not something I can fix. However, that wasn't what he was seeking help with... He told me that despite not being online in any way, he had received an email... from himself!

This seemed like a matter of great concern to him, as the email had contained a polite message along the lines of "Hello Sean (or whatever his real name is), How are you today?"

From this short phrase, he jumped to the conclusion that his computer must be haunted. Yes, really. So yeah, there's that story. I hope you liked it.

Sean Bean's offline computer


The other (non-Sean Bean based) blood donor tale of madness is simpler to explain, but equally ridiculous.

This one took place during one donation during the winter of... some year or other, I can't remember. A while ago anyway. One of the female nurses (Sean Bean is the only male one, I think) was doing the needle insertion and such, and complaining about the cold. It is cold in that church, pretty much all year round... but on this day it was noticeably chilly.

The nurse in question (who didn't really look like any celebrity) told me she enjoyed the job of taking the blood from people as opposed to doing the admin work or questioning people before they bleed... because the pint bags of blood were like tiny hot water bottles! At first I thought she was making a joke, but she held on to my completed donation for quite some time, and then placed it in my own hand, without asking my permission to do so. She's right, they are mighty warm... but is it not weird how she gives them all a good squeeze to warm her hands up? I can picture her offering to pack up at the end up the day, just so she can get all the bags of blood out when everyone else has gone home... to have a bit of a roll around in a big pile of them.

Warming the old fingertips


You don't have to be mad to get a job with the blood donors... but it helps!

I can't wait to see what happens next time...

So there you have it, an old post brought back from the dead. Expect plenty more of these, I initially started this blog to post a couple of reviews that people wanted to link to. Maybe I'll actually post them someday, instead of the usual random stuff. Maybe.


Vampires Can't Whistle

Recently I had the pleasure of watching the 1985 comedy horror film "Fright Night". It was very silly, but reasonably enjoyable thanks to it's high levels of preposterone.

Whilst watching it, a random discussion arose... can vampires whistle? Think about it, the fangs would be a bit of a hindrance at least. Don't ask me how this question came about, there will have been some reason, lost in the mess of the day.

Eventually we came to the conclusion that no, vampires cannot whistle. Furthermore, when they attempt to do so, they just end up blowing a raspberry. This is now accepted as a fact around the house, and there tends to be at least one vampire whistle performed every day.

I did my best to find an image to go with this madness, but I couldn't find anything in the end. I suppose it's not a common topic of discussion for most people.

Thursday 17 June 2010

Everything Beyond These Walls Has Been Razed

Here's a visual treat for you: a music video by "Reigns" a mysterious two-piece who create haunting background music with dark lyrical themes. Check out the video, and there's some more words below it.


Did you like it?

Reigns' album "The House On The Causeway" (featuring this track) became an instant favourite of mine late last year. Every track is an exceptional piece of music that stirs and provokes interesting reactions from the first listen, but further plays unlock the bizarre content within the lyrics. I have vivid images in my mind for each and every song, something I don't always find with music. I tend to find that specific music reminds me of a time or a place where I was when I first heard it, or where it was prominent in my life... but this is something very different. I don't have that kind of relationship with this album, instead I feel like I know places and people within the music itself. Apologies if that's a bit "deep" for you, but give it a go and see if you feel the same. The album was released on the excellent Monotreme records (home to many a great musician and band), check them out here:



The visuals in this particular video (not the same as the ones in my mind, by the way) are created by the incredibly talented Phlegm, one of my favourite artists. He creates comics with little point, illustrations for a lot of my favourite bands (particularly The Mirimar Disaster, who sadly called it a day in early 2009), various graffiti projects, and is currently working on a large book of stuff. I don't really know what's going to be in this book, but I've put my name down to get a hold of one, no matter the cost. An all-round hero of illustration as far as I'm concerned, and I'm glad his art has been used for a video by yet another band I enjoy so much. Check out his work here:



Finally, all the visuals and music were combined by Medlo, also known as The Media Lounge. Once again, I heavily admire the work carried out by this lot... A selection of incredible music videos and live background visuals for the likes of 65daysofstatic, The Low Lows, Aaron Stout (featuring more Phlegm design), Digitonal and King Creosote, amongst many others. They've also made many short films and behind-the-scenes type extras for various projects including 28 Weeks Later and Four Lions. As if that wasn't enough, they've also done some crazy full length feature film remix projects, including 'Nam 2, a mash-up of various Vietnam war films, and a remix and re-score (by Digitonal) of The Shining! Busy chaps, huh? I've managed to pick up 3 DVDs by them at 65daysofstatic gigs, and all them get regular watches.

Wednesday 16 June 2010

Crabbed Into Sunlight

Hello, whoever you are.

You are reading the inane ramblings of Dr Jonas Christ, a semi-fictitious character who you may have just imagined. Unlucky.

The title of this very blog, Crabbed Into Sunlight stems from the age-old tradition of the word replacement game. You will have all played it, it's the one where you swap a word from a film title / band name / book title / TV series name / etc. for a word of your choosing. This game usually revolves around profanities and/or genitalia.

But for me, it's all about the crabs. What kind of crabs, you ask? The giant, bloodthirsty, man-eating menace type of crab, as documented by the world champion pipe-smoker, Guy N. Smith.



What a hero of our times this man is. Although, I disagree with him on one point: crabs, giant and menacing or otherwise, do NOT have lips! Glowing red eyes, fine. An impenetrable carapace, fine. A hatred for mankind, fine. Lips? No.

Crabbed Into Sunlight is a fine example of a crab replacement band name, originally based on the enjoyable sounds of Dragged Into Sunlight. I expect you know how the game works now, if you didn't already. Dragged Into Sunlight don't like to face the crowd they play to, use a lot of smoke machines and strobes, and their stage set-up features a trident of candles and a big ol' skull. See for yourself:


The idea of being crabbed into sunlight appeals to me greatly, I mean being dragged is one thing... but the crabs I enjoy wouldn't be very careful about the task in hand, and a limb or two may get severed in the process. The hatred for mankind found with all crabs is also relevant, as Dragged Into Sunlight have an album titled... well, Hatred For Mankind. This all ties together very well indeed, doesn't it?

I'm using this name for blogging for a number of reasons. Mainly, I couldn't think of anything better at the time. I do have a long list of alternative crab-based things, many of which I'll no doubt end up posting about. It's also very unspecific in it's own completely nonsensical way... I have a few ideas of things to write about here, and it made sense to pick a name which doesn't relate to any of them all that much. Plus, it's so damn catchy and swish!

I used to post gig reviews, but replacing part of each band name with the word "cake", but that lost it's charm. Crabs are therefore better than cake. Combining the two is not recommended.

So, that's about it for this introduction bit. Now for some real posts...