Yes, we really were quite literally, Drinking in LA
Topic: Travel
Anyway, Arsenal won 1-0, although it should've been more, as we watched the match in the quasi-Irish bar which turned out was run by Americans as opposed to Spaniards. Though we had to beg them to switch over to the match as they had baseball on. It was on ESPN2 for future reference, which I believe may also be the case for Aussie and NZ. Anyway, had three pints of Boddingtons over lunch (the cream of LA?) - which really helped to cure the jetlag - and a shepherds pie.



The afternoon was spent mountineering up Ranyon Canyon, which is more of a bloody great hill, than a canyon. It was somewhat misleading that every time we thought we'd reached the summit, another peak appeared in the distance, which we just had to climb.

The Canyon is renowned as the place to be to see famous people walking their dogs. So imagine our delight and surprise when we saw none other than the host of Survivor. And to be honest, the only reason any of us knew he was the host of Survivor was because Jimmy our guide pointed him out to us. And also he was wearing a baseball cap with the words "I'm the host of Survivor" emblazoned across the front in big lettering.

Anyway those three pints I'd had at lunchtime not only helped the jetlag, but also really aided us in the climb. Still it was worth it for the views at the top, which can only be described as "awesome" (I'm somewhat afraid that, this phrase may well become a part of my regular vocabulary).

It was interesting to note that they had all these signs up in the Canyon, telling dog walkers to make sure they bring "Doggie Bags" to clear their dog's mess with. So, if you're ever in a restaurant in America, I'd refrain from asking for a Doggie Bag, if you find you can't quite finish your meal.

Anyway, the walk back was alot easier as it was downhill. And while walking via the Kodak Theatre, we got handed free tickets for the taping of Deal Or No Deal on thursday. Finally my dream will come true. I'll get to meet Noel!

Watched some stand-up comedy in the evening, held in the lounge of the hostel, but by this stage I was absolutely 'anging! Worthy of note was "Smokin' Mary Jane" who was suitably surreal, and dead gorgeous to boot. Unfortunately, I had to retire to bed at around 11, so I missed the rest.

23 and a bit hours Party People
Now Playing: Drinking in La - The Bran Van 3000 (predictably)
Topic: Travel
Woo-hoo LA. I feel like I'm on a film set, and the people all around me are merely actors.

The flight over lasted 11 hours, wherby I passed the time by watching The Fugitive starring Harrison Ford a total of 4 times, as the alternatives were films I had either (a) already seen, or be (b) had not intention of seeing as they starred Jim Carey.

Got to the hostel around 4pm local time (that's midnight to the people back home). The Golden Rule when I arrived was that I mustn't sleep, or risk the onrush of jet lag for the rest of my days. Although, one of the guys I spoke to reckoned that as I was making so many trips in the next seven weeks, the chances were that I suffer nothing but jetlag.

Lasted until 9pm local time (5am). So that's a total of 23 hours. Not bad going.

The hostel's on Schrader Boulevard, which is between Sunset Strip and Hollywood Boulevard, with the fabled Hollywood Walk of Fame. Although judging by how few names I recognised on the Walk, I reckon I could get my own star by the end of the week. Yeah, expecially if I used Gold Magic Marker or something.

Anthony, the guy I sat next to on the plane's been given Mel B's home number by one of her mum's friend's (she's one of these Clairvoyant's to the Stars, type people - wonder if she's the same one Glenn Hoddle used?). Yes, Scary Spice has apparently fled the UK and set herself up in Beverly Hills, living off nothing but Spice Girl royalties. Though, I reckon it can't last forever, so that reunion tour we're all crying out for (ha!) can't be too far off.

Spent the morning looking for a bar that's gonna be showing the Arsenal v Villareal match (In an attempt to fit in with the local crowd, I of course wore my Gooner shirt). Natalie, a Gooner from Chiswick, who's been here for a month, seemed hopefull it'd be on in a sports bar on Pal Mal.

Haven't found Pal Mal yet, but did find an authentic Irish Bar, which was of course run by a group of Spaniards.

London to LA.........
Topic: Travel
All things said, I was more than slightly taken aback when I saw the plane I was flying to Los Angeles on.....

The Subways NOT Live @ Bristol Academy
Now Playing: Nothing by the Subways, that's for sure!

One of the best live shows i've never been to.

Good news though. It's been rescheduled for the 24 May.

The bad news is I'll be stuck in the middle of Auckland, New Zealand of all places at the time!

Dave and Billie spotted in local branch of WHSmith
Topic: TV

New Who. Seven days and counting. Saturday 15th April, 19:15 BBC One

How well does football travel?
Topic: Football
Really, I am happy Arsenal have made it through to the semi-finals of the Champions League, after Juve’s apparent no-show on Tuesday. Typical that I’m in the loo attempting to justify my existence as an Arsenal fan to a local, while Pavel Nedved’s being sent off for fouling Toure (the only bit of the match of any note).

Now that we are through to the semis, I’m faced with the task of trying to find somewhere that’ll be showing the match, during my first full day in Los Angeles. In addition, because LA are eight hours behind the UK, I’ll be watching the match before noon, which’ll be very strange indeed.

To add to complications, the second leg’ll be kicking off at 6.45 in the morning local time, as I believe I’ll then have made it as far as Auckland.

God, life’s just shit, isn’t it!

Neighbours - The Movie!
Now Playing: Suddenly by Angry Anderson (predictably)
Topic: TV
Shit on me. Two weeks and counting....

In the meantime to get us all in the mood, here's an article I wrote a while back, dedicated to the legacy that is the antipodean soap opera Neighbours, originally to mark the shows twentieth anniversary. The first half concerns the anniversary episode itself, broadcast on BBC One last October. The second half recalls the disturbing Neighbours obsession had by one of Britain's youth, during the 1980s.

You have been warned....

Note: This article was written before the character of Harold Bishop was transformed into a complete and utter nut-job!

2nd Note: All references to Minogue and Donovan have been removed due to legal reasons - especially as the latter tends to sue (just ask the editors of defunct style magazine The Face)

----------------------------
2005 will be remembered as the year that Neighbours finally left its troubled teens behind and strove to march forth into the world of adulthood. Admittedly the precise number of people who will remember 2005 for this defining moment, can probably be counted on the digits of one hand. At its height, Australia’s answer to Acorn Antiques, pulled in viewers of up to 15 million, amongst the British populance, in this pre-Channel 5, pre-Sky Plus, pre-Freeview, pre-Cable, pre-ITV1, 2, 3 and 4, pre-Quiz Call, pre-Quiz Mania, pre-Quiz Nation, pre-Broadband, pre-Premium Rate Porn Channel, pre-X-Box, pre-PS1, PS2, pre-P-d-off society we once lived in; when things were oh so much simpler, and there was the choice of watching Neighbours, some shite about gardening on BBC 2, The News at 5.45 on ITV, or a documentary on Channel 4 about the plastering trade, aimed at a niche audience.

So, no wonder it got 15 million viewers. There was nothing else bloody well on!

And so, (purely for research purposes, I’ll have you know) I made a point of sitting down to watch the 20th Anniversary episode of Neighbours, where Ramsey St found itself descended upon by a host of former characters, the majority of which I found I had absolutely no recollection of whatsoever, despite having watched the show on a regular basis up until about 5 years ago (again, purely for research purposes), and to make matters worse, there was no Bouncer. And don’t even start with the “he’s probably dead” spiel, as I’m firmly of the belief that he’s still living happily on the farm with Joe, Mel, Toby and Sky. Except Joe and Mel appear to have partied company in the intervening years, as evidenced in the anniversary episode itself, the centrepiece of which was former resident Annalise “The Budding Film maker (since when?)” film of life living on Ramsey St, featuring a parade of former characters, one of which being Mel herself, confessing on film that marrying Joe had been “one of the biggest mistakes” of her life. Of course, this wouldn’t have been half as embarrassing, had Joe not been one of the lucky few bearing witness to the films’ premier at the time.

Fortunately, our favourite brickie, Joe still landed on his feet, as alter-ego Mark Little scored a 6 month contract to return to the show that once gave him fame. In doing so, Joe promptly shipped in with every middle-aged brickie’s dream woman, Lynn Scully, who herself had up until recently been married to brickie, Joe Scully, a character not dissimilar to ‘our’ Joe, not just in name and trade, but also looks, accent, and general demeanour, almost as if the scriptwriters had opted to copy every facet of ‘our’ Joe to create this ‘other’ Joe, unaware that ‘our’ Joe would have been grateful for the work regardless.

Fortunately, for our Joe, the other Joe got sacked for the alleged crime of repeatedly turning up to work drunk, and falling asleep on set, thus paving the way for ‘our’ Joe’s return. And a good thing too, think how confusing it would be to have had two brickies called Joe running about the place, both vying for vivacious Lynn’s affections.

Still, the ‘other’ Joe can be credited for fathering our favourite Popsicle-Hottie, Flick Scully, aka Holly Valance of blog www.hollyvalance.com fame (still a must read in my family, I can tell you!)

Also evident from the anniversary episode, was how ‘our’ Joe’s step-daughter, Sky (who had returned to the show sometime earlier, in an effort to give Harold some sense of plot beyond the odd-couple stylings of living with Lou Carpenter), had undergone the fate of many a character returning to the show after X number of years, in ageing more rapidly than is humanly possible. Thus resulting in Sky becoming much older than she would otherwise have been, and also “seriously fit”, thus resulting in yours truly feeling exceptionally dirty, as he still remembers her when she was in nappies.

Conversely, as witnessed on “Annalse’s film”, the years hadn’t exactly been kind to one-time Ramsey St hottie, alleged shagger of Dr Karl, and cover star of defunct style publication Sky Magazine, Sarah Beaumont; while Hannah “Button” Martin still looks 12 years old, in the same way she looked 12 years old while featuring in a cover photo short, adorned in full school uniform for men’s lifestyle (for lifestyle, read Wank-a-thon) magazine Loaded. Fortunately, Hilary Robinson who still looks as mottled and oaken as she ever did (think Mrs Mangle crossed with Helen Daniels, while wearing a Patrick Troughton fright-wig), hasn’t been appearing in any men’s magazine’s photo shoots anywhere, though I hear Nuts may be interested.

Of course, owing to an 18th month delay between the Australian and British broadcasts, Neighbours itself didn’t debut in the UK until circa 1987, when at the tender age of nine, yours truly got his first taste of what Australians actually were like. And it came as something of a surprise to discover that they didn’t all have beards and look like Rolf Harris. Nor were they like Michael Barrymore’s interpretation, of getting a group of pre-teens to bounce around the stage singing Kenny the Kangaroo, during the previous year’s Children’s Royal Variety Performance.

So entranced was yours truly by the phenomenon, that I quickly realised there was money to be made here, and unfortunately not in the Stock, Aitken, and Waterman style of abducting every ex-cast member as soon as they alighted at Heathrow, and frog marching them to the nearest recording studio, in order to unleash unspeakable horrors on Britain’s youth (c’mon, how else are you going to explain Stefan Dennis singing “Don’t It Make You Feel Good” while in full baseball get up?). No, my idea was to write a film.

And said film would incorporate all the ingredients of a regular Neighbours episode, only bigger and better, combining the best of contemporary popular culture a nine year old could get his hands on. Namely the likes of The A Team and The Dukes of Hazard, and maybe with a hint of Top Gun thrown in for good measure.

If memory serves, the plot revolved around a gang of hoodlums hiding out in Erinsborough, and kidnapping the entire female populace of Ramsey St, for no real discernable reason, but when your nine, you find that a lot of your screen plays aren’t entirely true to life (like most episodes of Neighbours in-fact. And before you start ont the, well why is all the female cast members get kidnapped rant, keep in mind that my influences were The A-Team and The Dukes of Hazard. If you were looking for strong female role models in the 1980s, you had a choice of Juliet Bravo or Miss Marple.

Any, just to show the film wasn’t totally sexist, the gang also kidnapped Danny Ramsey. For those of you not in the know, Danny was Harold’s dead wife’s, brother’s son. Danny was also portrayed in the show as being an all round ‘soft-lad’, which is probably why I had him kidnapped.

Anyway, the ‘Men’ of the street go in, vigilante/lynch-mob style, duff up the hoodlums, and rescue the women. The End.

Oh, and then they all have a big team bath, which is probably where the Top Gun influences came in.

I’m sure the script must be knocking round the house somewhere, and as soon as I’ve found it, I’ll be mailing it to the Neighbours studio forthwith. They’re bound to lap it.

Anyway, things got worse a few years later, when I started imagining myself actually appearing in Neighbours and interacting with the other cast members around me, even going as far as to create a brand new character to be played by myself, with his own unique background and history:

Tom Densley was the name (why I chose this moniker, I have no idea). Tom was the one time high school buddy of Paul Robinson and resident of Ramsey St while growing up, until his family decided to up-sticks and move over seas. Evil Paul Robinson as a best friend? What was I thinking?

Tom made his debut on the show in the early 90s, as a happy go lucky, comedy value kinda guy, very much in the Henry Ramsey/Clive Gibbons mould, and soon hooked up again with his old school bud Paul (quite). What Tom did for a living escapes me, I was myself only a school boy. But on the plus side, he did start dating the better looking of the twins who shared Paul’s house. If memory serves, the twin in question was Caroline, aka the one without the wonky mouth.

This was going fine, until the character of Caroline started to date Doug Willis’s son for real, which meant that poor Tom was instantly plunged into the depths of deep depression, and embarked upon a week long bender starting at the Waterhole in the presence of a disapproving Harold and Madge. Tom is next seen waking up several days later to find himself in the back of a barn in the middle of nowhere.

Tom’s next move was to try and find his way back to Ramsey St. Unfortunately while hitchhiking he got picked up by an escaped con, and the car (naturally stolen) ended up plunging down a ravine in the middle of the bush, never to be seen again.

I would like to point out now that Tom did not go on to release a hit (or otherwise) single, or appear in Panto. He was however slightly miffed not to be invited back for the 20th Anniversary record.

Tom Densly was last heard of failing an audition for the part of Wellard in Eastenders.

Peer Pressure
Topic: levers
I am of course nothing more than a bare faced liar, as I make the confession that I had in fact been planning this little trip away for some months now, and it wasn’t just a spur of the moment move on my part because I was getting a bit uppity because my housemate insists on playing James Blunt at full volume whenever he’s in the kitchen frying cabbage and brussel sprouts - and invariably setting fire to the place. It wouldn’t be so bad, but more often than not it’s the same bastard track. “You’re beautiful”? You’re A Bloody Miserable Whiney Bastard, more like..

Anyway, partial blame lies with former housemate Greg “Des” Hopton (the Des monikor was apparently awarded to him while at University due to the boy’s penchant for all things Des Lynam – his mum has been instructed to record every edition of Countdown until his return), who decided to pack in his job and up-sticks to Wellington, New Zealand, so he could be reunited with his girlfriend Caitlan, who is an American, and was also a housemate, though not until I had moved out of that particular abode, but she did inherit my bedroom, so lucky her. Although, one complaint she did have on moving in, was with regard to the sudden appearance of large quantities of long black hairs in the chest of draws. To this day, I still protest my innocence as the hair on my head at the time was on a grade one, and although the rest of my body could be described as being of a “hairy dissipation”, my pastimes were generally not spent plucking out great lengths of pubes and storing them in the bottom draw.

I will be staying with Greg and Caitlan for just over a week.

Blame should also lie with Jenny and Chris, who are spending the next three months travelling round the world as of today, and who suggested we meet up in Sydney.

Additionally, blame should also be shared by Stig, who emigrated four years ago and now lives in Melbourne.

Admittedly, I did use the excuse of “going travelling” as an excuse to make myself appear slightly more interesting to my peers when they enquired what I was up to these days. And, so the more people I told, the harder it became for me to turn round and say I wasn’t going or to quietly forget about it. And so the greater the onus became for me to actually do something about it, and so in effect I became trapped.

The jailor to my own personal prison.

And so, to avoid the risk of endless ridicule from my peers, I ended up actually booking the bloody thing. Something, only a few years ago I wouldn’t even have dreamt of doing.

The victim of my own dastardly peer pressure.

Still, it should be jolly fun, and it’s certainly more interesting than the mundaity of every day life. Just means it’s all going to be a bit of a bugger when I actually have to come back and re-enter society.

Early Retirement
Topic: levers
Work took quite a dim view of my having booked a two-month holiday in the middle of their busiest period to date. Unfortunately the tickets are non-refundable, and apparently I can only claim on the insurance if the entire planet is plunged into nuclear war, and then we’ll probably find that the world’s insurance companies are the first to go. And so, it was with heavy heart that I tendered my resignation, effective 14th April. Admittedly they didn’t exactly go out of their way to talk me out of my madness – or mid-life crisis, perchance? Ahem, hopefully not, as I was kind’ve banking on surviving beyond my fifties, thank-you.

What was more annoying was the job agency that called me up the other day, offering me more money than I had ever seen, on a sixth month contract in London.

“Well, yes. Of course I’m interested” I said. “If your client’s got more money than sense, then I’d be more than willing to take them for every penny they’ve got.”

“What’s that? Two-month holiday? Did I say that? Oh no no no. That wasn’t me. You must have me confused with someone else. Er, hello. Hello?”

Bugger. Oh well, they can stick their poxy money. It’s probably all bent anyway. Still, the odds of my returning in June to no job at all suddenly appear to be quite high indeed.

Fly round the world for less than a pound.... (maybe not)
Topic: levers
Yes, yesterday’s rant wasn’t just because I was having a bad day. Oh no. Already I’ve marched my way down to STA travel and handed over a thousand pounds and demanded that they send me (in this order) to Los Angeles, Auckland, Wellington, Sydney, Melbourne, back to Los Angeles so I can endure an irritating stop over, onto New York, and then back to Blighty in time for the World Cup. And I didn’t leave the Travel Agents until they’d damn well taken my money! Yeah, that’ll show the like of the Labour Party, James Blunt, Chico, The Daily Express, and erm the complete lack of Global Warming we’ve been having lately….