clivemurray.com

Don’t you think Amazon gift certificates make a great birthday present?

I do.

You know, people are busy, and they don’t have time to open presents and all that.

Good idea, I think. They could even be anonymous, in case you were embarrassed about giving.

You know. If you wanted to.

–c.

New year. Back at work. Had good long Christmas holiday from work. Spent lots of time with wonderful girlfriend, and probably too much playing Guild Wars. Ate a lot, but didn’t drink a lot mostly due to having a head and chest cold for the last 13 days.

Still enjoy my job. Enthusiasm for the band has never been so low though. Perhaps this will change soon when we relaunch with the new name. Hope so. In the meantime have started to revisit music I started writing towards second solo album. Of course, still owe money to backers for producing the first one, which will probably never sell another copy.

About to turn 33 next week. Home PC is almost too ancient to use any more. Car is on last legs. Bank balance is laughable. Waistline appears to be continually expanding. Trainers falling apart, jeans ditto.

On the other hand, I have the love of an amazing woman, a roof over my head, food in the fridge, a job I like, and enough talent in my hands to produce music that entertains people.

I’m the luckiest guy in town.
–c.

Russian ex-spies are being poisoned. There is a serial killer on the loose who has killed as many women in 6 weeks as the Yorkshire Ripper did in 6 years. There was a tornado in London last week.

WTF, mate?

–c.

You know what we need?

A fat Yorkshire-accented rapper taking off 50 Cent but called… wait for it, this is good…

Ten Bob.

That would rule, I reckon.

–c.

Well he would be, wouldn’t he? If you were a lunatic you’d be glad of a smooth reefer to help keep the inner demons at bay.

I prefer cider myself, but there you are. Nutjobs can’t be choosers.

Inside and out.

I’m in financial trouble at the moment. I don’t like my job. I’m permanently tired, and I may be ill. I’m currently hung over. There are people out there who I have upset somehow and who actively wish me harm. My car is falling apart and sucking money I don’t have out of my life.

But I’m sitting here listening to rock music (Slash’s Snakepit, as it happens) and looking at a blue sky, and I am the happiest guy in the world right now.

Life is what you make it people, remember that. We are the privileged. You’re reading my words on a computer screen right now, not lying in a gutter in the arse end of the world dying of something you can’t spell. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not lording it, I’m just remembering to be thankful for my particular set of stars.

So quit your bitching. Life is fantastic. The world is a marvellous place for those of us who are lucky enough to be able to enjoy it.

Remember this next time you’re whingeing about how your feet hurt, or that you got cut up in traffic, or that the guy next door has his music slightly too loud.

Get up off your arse and do the thing you enjoy, and look to the sky and fucking smile once in a while.

As you were.

In light of Arnie’s win in California, I would like to propose a vote of no confidence in Tony Blah and I nominate Sir Michael Caine for Prime Minister.