Showing posts from October, 2005
Another one left us this morning - Steve Hill. Many might not know the name, but you'd know the band that he originally sang with - Skyhooks. That's right, Steve was the original vocalist with the band, for about a year, before Shirley came along (that's him on stage with the band in 1973). Indeed if you ever get a chance to hear some of the bands early songs with Hill you'll notice that Hill, in his own way, sang some of the songs better - All My Friends Are Getting Married for example, sounded warmer with Hill than it ever did with Shirl. Different voices, now both are singing duets somewhere up there. Still Steve turned his back on the 'Hooks, for his own reasons and Shirley came in, replaced him and the rest is history. Now Steve is history. My good pal Peter Green emailed this to the Skyhooks list today: Some sad news everyone. At 9.00 this morning Steve Hill, the original Hooks lead singer passed away. As most of you know he had been battling cancer for aw
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Seriously. It's war!!! Now that I've finished the Andru/Esposito book I've found myself with some free time. That's not only a good thing, but lately that's a damn rare thing. In order to bring myself down and relax I've decided to go back out into the little garden I have here and start doing all the things I've wanted to do there for months now - planting some herbs and veggies, planting some shrubberies (you never know when the Knights Who Say Ni might turn up), ripping out some old, dead or useless plants, weeding - well you get the general idea. So far I've planted some nip for the cat, some tomatos, some herbs, a mozzie killing plant and a bush, along with a general clean up along with installing some more sprinklers and removing the dead solar lights. But I'm not happy. Lately a bloody great big black bastard of a bird has decided to enter my garden and throw shit and dirt all over the place. I'll go outside, clean up, sweep and do
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I was always told that the best revenge is living well. What crap - it's more than that, far, far more. Revenge is going to a concert and having a damn good time. Revenge is sitting down at said concert and seeing someone who gave you the flick a couple of years back, for no apparant reason other than, "You're just not going anywhere and I want more out of life. I want someone who's cultured etc etc" and seeing that person. Revenge is seeing that person sitting down with a feral wearing a white shirt under an open flannel shirt, with a shaved head and some bum fluff, who sits there all the time trying to look cool and just looks bored. Revenge is realising that you're far better than they've ended up with. Revenge is also knowing that the person by your side now is a far better person than your ex could ever hope to be as well. Quid pro quo dear, I win, you lose.