Cigarettes

Another trend I've noticed about the Dodgy Hipsters of Liverpool, of which there are an irksome number now I know where they skulk about: why do so many of them smoke rollies? Hobo chic? Retro thingy charm? A display of dextrous attention to detail, being handy, dainty and at the same time laissez-faire, cavalier and all those other words the types probably quite like throwing into their own blogs.

It's not as if they're nice. Maybe it's an effort to save money, better spent on vintage just-above-the-waist leather jackets and pointy tan Chelsea boots. And razors that don't work properly. Dicks.

I realise the blatant cheek of slagging a gaggle of people I'd be a hair's breadth of joining if I had the money. Not intentionally mind, but I like caffeine, literature and music that isn't shit. So, apparently, do they. I also smoke rollies occasionally, but not by choice. This leads me to ponder what the difference is between the Hip and the rest of us. I know for a fact some of the other lot, the squares, the Dicks if you will (I say 'dick' because that's what we say we look like when we do something particularly maladroit or spastickish: "I was dancing like a dick last night"; "I split me pint over him- must've looked like a dick"; "Dunno what I said to her, but she thought I was a dick") listen similar same tunes, drink in the same bars, read the same dodgy novels... and yet they don't get my hackles up in anything like the same way. Bollocks to it, this is a thought for another time. To quote Bernard Black, I can feel bits of my brain falling away like a wet cake. I've been off my tiny porcelain balls on cheap coffee, running round the commercial district of Liverpool (it turns out there is such a thing) trying to hoodwink recruitment companies into setting me loose on some unsuspecting prick's call centre. I'll be back when I've had some sleep. Then some beer. Then some more sleep.

Justin Bieber's Male?

I just found out Justin Bieber, instead of being the lesbian dyke-child I thought it was, is actually a male boy-child. There was me thinking "Good for her- rare to see an out-and-proud lesbian woman doing well in pop, especially one as full-blown and butch as that. Bit of an unusual name for a girl, but she is American. Nuff said." Oh how wrong I was.

My main reason for this erroneous guess at the manboything's gender orientation was its singing voice: too high to be a bloke, too low for a typical pop songstrel. And the fact that it got a boo at Radio 1's Big Weekend there (what? The radio in the kitchen comes on by itself and I can't turn it off. I was making an omelette) was proof that the Bieber wasn't some kind of androgynous girl-looking child sex symbol, as I know recognise he/she/it/they is/are.

Admittedly I should've been wary of a jump to this conclusion. When I was a kid I thought Tracy was an odd name for a man. Then I found out Tracy Chapman was a lady, with an exceedingly deep voice (even after having seen videos on the old Top 30 Hits). Several friends have made similar mistaken assumptions about Nina Simone. Still...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaahahahahaha

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/election_2010/northern_ireland/8666196.stm

Off to get honking drunk and celebrate. May have some more to say tomorrow when I stop laughing.