tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69438571236554131782024-02-08T00:49:28.182+00:00listen to old sarge...guitar, musical alchemy, tune and wordsmithery...
<a href="http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com/">http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com/</a>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-3370145114440355672022-09-09T14:31:00.005+01:002022-09-09T14:31:37.691+01:00new poem: an indifferent old man on the passing of the monarch<div style="text-align: left;">an indifferent old man on the passing of the monarch</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />an old woman is dead<br />she died alone<br />cold starving in poverty and in pain<br />grieved by no one<br />an unmarked grave<br />the cats having eaten her face<br />food banks energy price caps<br />war induced economic crash<br />the world continues to spin<br />nothing to see here let’s move on</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />the bbc reporter talks of rainbows<br />the nation stops in the rain<br />collectively cries out in pain…<br />do we get the day off…again?<br />I hug my teenage daughter<br />in her sex pistols t-shirt<br />and put the cd on again…<br />god save the queen<br />there’s no future and england’s dreaming<br />we love our queen god saves<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">an old woman is dead<br />didn’t die alone<br />cold starving in poverty or in pain<br />grieved by her family<br />a state funeral<br />but enough of the reverential tones<br />black ties and doffed caps<br />flags at half mast<br />the world continues to spin<br />nothing to see here let’s move on<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">the bbc reporter talks of rainbows<br />the nation stops in the rain<br />collectively cries out in pain…<br />do we get the day off…again?<br />I hug my teenage daughter<br />in my smiths t-shirt<br />and put the cd on again…<br />the queen is dead<br />when you’re tied to your mother’s apron<br />no one talks about castration</div>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-27136194036978917112022-08-29T18:24:00.000+01:002022-08-29T18:24:00.492+01:00new poem: my body's a temple<div style="text-align: left;"><b>my body’s a temple</b><br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>me? get a tattoo?<br />on this body? pffft!<br />you lost your Elgin Marbles?<br />that would be like<br />spray painting a giant dobber<br />on the Parthenon</div>
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<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><o:p></o:p></p>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-36989060448840201612022-06-13T22:50:00.000+01:002022-06-13T22:50:13.209+01:00new poem: daddy, what did you do on the great liv golf tour?<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>daddy, what did you do on the great liv golf tour?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />languishing in vainglory<br />Greg orchestrated lifelong fantasy<br />to overthrow usurp rule-makers<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">lacking in virtue<br />glosses over lewd felony<br />torturing oily ugly regime<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">linked inexorably-to violence<br />gangsters orate ludicrous falsehoods<br />tawdry objectional underhand ridiculous<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">luckless immolated viciously<br />gutting ordered later flayed<br />Turkey objects UN ruminates <br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">lucre incentivised vulgarity<br />got our little field<br />talented old unknown riders<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">liquidate inconvenient values<br />greed overruns living freely<br />televised-for our underwhelmed revulsion<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">laughable inferior version<br />grand overtures lack finesse<br />treachery obscured unhinged razamataz<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">lest infantile vengeance<br />grunts out languid farts<br />Trumpian orchestra underdressed ruler<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">losers in victory<br />graceless objects ladies forgotten<br />todays ordinary useless relics<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">legacy ignominy vacancy<br />gender obfuscation lecherous finance<br />twisted offal upskirt righteousness</span></div>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-89410178641376707292022-06-13T22:47:00.000+01:002022-06-13T22:47:15.514+01:00new poem: its hard to saunter with a stauner<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>its hard to saunter with a stauner</b><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">check out the hair on the heir<br />inveterate liar hiding in his lair<br />its hard to saunter with a stauner<br />the bus fare was incredibly fair<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">this mince n tatties, sweetheart, really is the shit<br />pair of twats blootered on cider one hundred percent pear<br />their morals found rotting somewhere over there<br />bare arsed cheeks too much to bear<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">gods envoked it pisses down cats and dogs <br />races enrich bookies save the occasional scare<br />hoses deployed wash away tattie shaw shoes<br />crate of powder disappeared no discernible trace<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">gangsters rage about stolen gear<br />hips fluid bosun takes a pish over the side of the ship<br />corpulent swine fat fuck a ducks quaffing their wines<br />dust mites of relativity might smite the editor of The Times<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">wary of things going spectacularly awry<br />ream of cloth plummets flattens escaped mare<br />flares double denim shades such nonchalant flair<br />wears it well, she does…I swear<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">flesh slithered free from the second top shelf<br />felt for a pulse but nothing was left<br />spark up in the dark at the side of the parks<br />darken my door youll find me fuckin narked<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">live fast, vile human, circuit is live<br />die young, sweetheart, hair never seen dye<br />who loots the barn tools for a milking stool?<br />open your mind, nope too late, tail of a tale too old</span></div>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-36504594453513561972022-06-06T23:10:00.003+01:002022-06-06T23:10:50.375+01:00new poem: living la vida loca<p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>living la vida loca</b><br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>lets ignore viciousness<br />lets invest venereally<br />lets immolate voluntarily<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>lets include vassals<br />lets indebt vouchsafe<br />lets ingratiate verily<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>lets ingest voluminously<br />lets inherit vastly<br />lets idiotize victory<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>lets idolise-the vanquished<br />lets insist-on vaingloriousness<br />lets inhabit-a vacuum<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>lets interrogate validity<br />lets interpret veneer<br />lets inhale vermillion<br /><o:p> <br /></o:p>lets not</span></div><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-44987200184711154842022-05-20T13:27:00.002+01:002022-05-20T13:27:57.512+01:00in flight golf: testing Premium vs Range balls and GC2 vs TrackMan Range data<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2nZnBaHHi2q8D7kCgToLtqQ-gJjU_qY0iZdfcGThnOZkt5UWLZh7y1ep85gcMpCgjf0ci5oqcp9PDvFCjhSkW7tlRH0lVs307N5xXnHtUdmX3v3NV0aXCTCY_1U_RnfHbxj8dByfa8fTV6uAFXl4jFBOKle8dLCR9Tnqv-wy2YdeK0nam-OW80VQ7/s1089/20220520_RangeTestData&Report.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1089" data-original-width="667" height="1099" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2nZnBaHHi2q8D7kCgToLtqQ-gJjU_qY0iZdfcGThnOZkt5UWLZh7y1ep85gcMpCgjf0ci5oqcp9PDvFCjhSkW7tlRH0lVs307N5xXnHtUdmX3v3NV0aXCTCY_1U_RnfHbxj8dByfa8fTV6uAFXl4jFBOKle8dLCR9Tnqv-wy2YdeK0nam-OW80VQ7/w673-h1099/20220520_RangeTestData&Report.jpg" width="673" /></a></div><br /><p></p>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-33311808340502082892022-05-19T16:40:00.000+01:002022-05-19T16:40:06.605+01:00new poem: if you happen to find yourself drowning<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial;">if you happen to find yourself drowning</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial;"><br />I used to think I was a rock<br />jutting proud from the ocean<br />something to lash your rope to<br />when the water got choppy<br />something to cling on to<br />if you happened to find yourself drowning<br />while floating by<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial;">now it has become apparent<br />I'm more of a barnacle encrusted pile<br />barely visible above the water<br />a little rotten, perhaps, ravaged by time<br />but still able to perform the same function<br />if you happen to find yourself drowning<br />while floating by<br /><br /><br />20220518</span></div>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-11616457817125554832020-08-10T17:40:00.002+01:002020-08-10T17:40:19.380+01:00Death Star Text Exchange
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">[Imperial
Technicians recently provided this transcript of a secret, coded Rebel transmission.]<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">[Apparently,
it’s an exchange between old sarge and his work colleague, MW, fellow Star Wars
fans and ‘Rebel scum’...]<br />
<br />
Hi MW, are you in the office or do you have the RAS fob to hand, fella?<br />
<br />
[Editor’s note:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in an ensuing telephone
call, it turned out MW was leaving the office in 20 mins for a galaxy, far, far
away, and it was then a race against time for old sarge to get connected to the
customer system before MW left the secret Rebel base on the moon orbiting Yavin
4 for the day...]<br />
<br />
Just a couple more minutes...Death Star approaching... </span></span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">😜</span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<br />
MW: LOL<br />
<br />
Starting Death Star trench run, Red 13 going in...<br />
<br />
MW: </span></span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">😆😆😆😆😆</span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<br />
What's this on the NavComputer...must update McAfee before torpedo launch can
be initiated...WTF!? <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do
I need to get out and THROW them?? </span></span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">😡😜</span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<br />
MW: Use The Force<br />
<br />
Who said that? Some Auld guy in a duffle coat last seen on a talking bear?! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Too
much Ready Brek for you Auld Yin, you're shimmering! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What's
that R2, some guy with fancy PPE on in a wonky looking TIE fighter is coming up
fast from behind? <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Deploy
the Anal Shield.<br />
<br />
MW: </span></span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">😆😆😆😆😆😆😆</span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<br />
[Later, in The Cantina, a still ‘amped up from the battle’ Matt is having a
lager with his colleague Ats...]<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">[…and
yes, The Band is still playing THAT song again, and again, and again, and again…]<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘FFS,
mate, narrowly avoided being blown out the sky by some handsome prick and his
walking carpet in a flying bin lid, they somehow used some 'manoeuvres' to get
the guy in the PPE off my tail, so I park the X-Wing by the exhaust port and I
gets out and rams that torpedo where the sun don't fucking shine, know what I
mean?’<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘I
turns around and some cunt in a white suit, funny looking PPE too, has ticketed
me so I lamps the cunt and leave him sparko in the trench, serves the fucker
right, giving out fucking tickets in the middle of a space battle, what's that
all about?’<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘I
gives the torpedo one last kick for good luck, jumps in the X-Wing and I'm out
of there sharpish.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘Then
that no-mark farm boy cunt with no hair on his balls Skywalker comes along,
blows the fucking gaff up with <i>MY</i> torpedo and takes all the fucking
credit!’<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">[Big
slurp of lager.]<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘That
Princess is a bit of all right though, I'd give her one, no fucking mistake.’ <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘Yeah,
another drink for me mate, same again. Cheers!’<br />
<br />
MW: Lolololololololol you have a talent that the world needs to see </span></span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">😆👍🏻💪🏻🍺🍺</span></span></span></div>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-17085886706763053832020-06-04T11:42:00.000+01:002020-06-04T11:42:18.558+01:00old sarge's sad, but true tales from The Lockdown presents (vol. 1)
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<b><span style="font-family: Calibri;">old sarge's sad, but true tales from The Lockdown
presents:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>'hit me with your postponed
wedding stick, two fat persons, click, click, click', incorporating 'reasons to
be cheerful, one, two, three'...<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">gentle reader, sad, but true...The Colonel and me and, as
I lovingly refer to them whenever possible, Our Rancid Offspring...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">(...sweet fucking creeping covid-19 jesus, it just
occurred to me that there's the hideous prospect of a supergroup of the same
name to form/have formed somewhere in the multiverse, featuring members of Our
Chemical Romance, Rancid and The Offspring...you have been warned, I do appear
to have developed the Lockdown Superpower of being able to bring unlikely, even
fictional scenarios into existence these last few weeks...it compliments my
almost supernatural ability to pack boxes of assorted household shit into the
tightest of cupboard spaces, first time, every time...you know, like Magneto
but with cardboard boxes...again sad, but true...Shiteneto, if you will indulge
me...but is it actually a mutant superpower or, as is more likely, a throwback
to the awesome Presto-hewn shelf stacking skills of my youth, developed and
mastered with Jedi-esque clarity and dedicated sense of duty and purpose in the
80's and 90's?...perhaps it's my actual mutant bollocks – once again sad, but
true – or the Lockdown Logan/Wolverine mutton-chops, hairdo and, piest de
resistance, Great British Sewing Bee-inspired home-sewn yellow skin-tight Lycra
Lockdown X-Men costume I'm rocking, 24/7 night and day, to the increasing
abject horror of those closest to me...but, I digress...)</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">...were originally going to be guests at two weddings
this past weekend, one on the Friday night and the other on the Sunday,
postponed and now re-organised for later in the year...sad, but true...but now
also something to look forward to, so every cloud and all that...as the great
man himself said, reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three...</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I gather that the same goes for the Spectator journalist
Katy Balls... apparently her nuptials have also been postponed...also sad, but
true...watching a recent episode of HIGNFY, she made an amusing aside about not
expecting the Friday night of her honeymoon in the Seychelles to be broadcast
on Auntie Beeb...now, she didn’t reveal to the nation whether or not either her
or her husband to-be are some kind of sex-tape enthusiasts, the Pammy and
Tommy-Lee of the Lockdown, perhaps, but you never know with these
Liberal-metropolitan-elite types…</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">anyway, she also didn't reveal what her fiance's name is,
the Journalist’s Code being what it is, respect for privacy and all that jazz, but
I am looking forward to hearing about her wedding finally going ahead in the
autumn, perhaps to Mr Dicken Fondled-Roughly, and them setting up home as Mr
and Mrs Dicken Balls-Fondled-Roughly...</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">gentle reader, reasons indeed to be cheerful, one, two,
three...</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-41647620110853410552020-06-01T18:04:00.001+01:002020-06-02T10:45:26.034+01:00lockdown top-tip #4...<span style="font-family: "calibri";">the fourth in a short series of lockdown top-tips…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">old sarge lockdown top-tip #4...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">hairdressers of the UK! your desperate nation needs you! please
mobilise immediately to full alert status, sharpen those scissors, rehearse your
inane small talk, and be at full readiness to be deployed at the drop of a sweaty,
greasy hat in a few weeks’ time when The Lockdown is further eased. if you
already find yourself surrounded by resentful, chemically burned, skinhead family
members; if you’ve already scalped your Girl’s World (Boris Johnston 2019 Limited
Edition); if you’re scraping the bottom of your signed and officially endorsed tub
of Sir Keir Starmer Brylcreem; if you’ve burnished your First Minister Jimmy Crankie
hard-hat-helmet-hair wig to a dazzling, epilepsy inducing finish, why not keep
your hand in between now and then - and be in the running for an invite to be Liz’s
Guest of Honour at the Glorious Key Worker Garden Party and Victoria Cross Medal
Ceremony at Buckingham Palace later in the year - by turning your attentions to
the roller of your vacuum cleaner? <span style="font-family: "times new roman";">as the Nobel Prize winning philosopher, poet, and Hollywood actor-raconteur Samuel L Jackson might put it, check that shit out</span>, that’s one hairy motherfucker! increase
both your and its efficiency by giving it a quick short back and sides twice a
week. don’t forget to get a surly, inappropriately dressed, sexually confused, exploited
and quite probably under-paid teenage family member, housemate or family pet to
sweep up after you. and this Thursday at 20:00, clutch your clippers and curling
tongs to your bosom, stand erect and to attention on your doorstep, and take pride
in your new-found Key Worker status when the World’s Worst Steel Band strikes
up, out of time and originality, once again…don't thank me, you're weclome...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">(editor’s note: picture of a truly disgusting household
appliance getting a haircut to follow)</span></div>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-49840712885764336732020-06-01T16:56:00.002+01:002020-06-01T17:03:52.238+01:00lockdown top-tip #3...<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">the third in a short series of lockdown top-tips…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">
old sarge lockdown top-tip #3...<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">alert citizen of the UK! do you have a dry, persistent
cough, <span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">are sweating profusely and currently possess only three of
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">the five senses? perhaps you’ve just been on a bicycle
ride <span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">in continental temperatures with a rucksack full of
alcohol purchased from your local convenience store, where you <span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">were by-chance verbally abused by a self-appointed non-<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">staff random social distancing special constable prick? if
I <span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">may be so bold, sir, tell the cunt to fuck off, promptly remind
them to maintain the correct social distancing protocols themselves, excuse
yourself from further debate on the matter, then retire at haste to a suitably safe
social distance <span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">to enjoy your purchases: as your attorney, I can recommend you quench your thirst with the cerveza of the hour, a tall, frosty
Corona: no sense of smell or taste required</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">...don't thank me, you're weclome…</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexfKgm_e3SAxDFS8mJqZ46SB3RWdnjXUcS1duImd-zVQRG3jhkqqVlVKXugw9no_IQ0hrDWeGY-5GsKkzFf6PEMFfieV__YGmaUbCmohSRDAURK9ZV-hL2KBxyMFFLcOzJcERpmY8T1I/s1600/20200526_B%2526GTackleCorona.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexfKgm_e3SAxDFS8mJqZ46SB3RWdnjXUcS1duImd-zVQRG3jhkqqVlVKXugw9no_IQ0hrDWeGY-5GsKkzFf6PEMFfieV__YGmaUbCmohSRDAURK9ZV-hL2KBxyMFFLcOzJcERpmY8T1I/s320/20200526_B%2526GTackleCorona.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">two empty bottles of beer showing flagrant </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">disregard <span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;">for social distancing protocols, yesterday</span></span></div>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-29809968771075421012020-05-15T13:44:00.004+01:002020-06-01T17:09:17.880+01:00lockdown top-tip #2...the second in a short series of lockdown top-tips...<br />
<br />
old sarge lockdown top-tip #2...<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">citizens of England, be alert! when you're out and about
this weekend, don't forget to keep your electricity meter under your left arm
and your gas meter under your right arm at all times to comply with the
government's social distancing rules and guidelines: always keep a safe
distance, always keep your two meters apart...<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">don't
thank me, you're weclome...</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivOeyKNvYa2yADiVCWFmJ0oFIpqZF5NbHAmRe_HEB2kb5mf2ambhlqtkanLldqNvJf1s7eChP1a8uA2R32slvKZaX8FmPEI6vD2HTqjqlQI4tqHCfeobOHK5-_QxEzU8JMX2cICxZsn34/s1600/electricity-and-gas-meters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1048" data-original-width="1500" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivOeyKNvYa2yADiVCWFmJ0oFIpqZF5NbHAmRe_HEB2kb5mf2ambhlqtkanLldqNvJf1s7eChP1a8uA2R32slvKZaX8FmPEI6vD2HTqjqlQI4tqHCfeobOHK5-_QxEzU8JMX2cICxZsn34/s320/electricity-and-gas-meters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">the owner of this property was later arrested for not </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">following government guidelines on social distancing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-48955144131044524172020-05-15T03:54:00.001+01:002022-08-30T00:45:04.623+01:00tales from the twilight lockdown zone presents...Who the fuck has Lidl frozen peas in a gaff like this?<span style="font-size: large;">Well, guv, we was called out to the modestly extravagant suburban London gaff of the Arsenham United and England player in the early hours of Thursday morning. Apparently, a burglary in progress had been reported by the hysterical householder, so we got round there quick sharp with the old blues and twos on, roads was empty, what with the lockdown and all that. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">One minor incident to report on the way, guv, Dave got a minor scald when he spilled his flask of tea on his bollocks when I had to swerve to avoid a jogger on a pedestrian crossing in Chelsea. 1-fucking-am and some Lycra-clad fatty is out there having a coronary to herself in the middle of the fuckin street in a pool of her own piss and shit. Reminds me, will need to hose down the side of the panda once we’re done here, sarge, might have got a bit of splash back on Dave’s door.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Aaanywaaay, we gets there, I jumps out, and a freak gust of wind catches the door, and it goes and prangs the wing of the Bentley parked in the drive. So I jumps back in and reverses it round the other side and, fuck me, do I not go and take the wing mirror off the McLaren. I gets out and has a butcher’s at the damage and thinks to myself, fuck it, and I goes and kicks the mirror clean into the rhododildo-fuckin-whatnot bushes, thinking the minted cunt can afford to get that sorted himself.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Fuck it, Dave, I says, lets go and see what the script is. No rush, mate, Dave says finishing his cuppa, it’s not like there’ll be anything of irreplaceable sentimental value been stolen, like fucking winners medals or cups! I know, mate, we had a piss laugh at that, so when I’d got my breath back, I had a fag and Dave finished his cornflake sandwich. What’s that, guv? Yeah, a cornflake sandwich, cunt’s missus is still in lockdown round at the mother-in-law’s, it’s been fuckin cornflake sarnies all week for Dave.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So we’re walking up the drive, and I says to Dave, burglars in a lockdown, mate, a bit suspect that, no? And Dave says, well, we’re not dealing with the sharpest knives in the drawer, are we? Times is tough, cunts have got no readies, they’re getting desperate. You’re right there, mate, I says to Dave, I bet these footballers are finding this lockdown fuckin tough, tattoo parlours and hairdressers all shut, scraping bye on their uppers on seventy percent of their hunder-fuckin-grand a week.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yeah, we’d stopped pissing ourselves by the time we got to the front door. Ding-dong, lights on, and there’s young Delbert Alice whatsisface opening the door, lookin a bit roughed-up so he was, poor bastard had pissed his joggers and everything by the smell of it. And we could hear his bit of stuff stomping about somewhere upstairs in the gaff, screeching all sorts of stuff we couldn’t make out, on her fuckin phone or something.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, I introduces us, then I asks young Delbert, is she alright? And before he can answer, Dave’s got his phone out and shoving it in our faces, shouting, Alright!? She’s fuckin luuuvely, mate! Did he not have a photo of Delbert’s strife as the wallpaper on his phone, guv? Not a fucking stitch on, tits out to here, legs all over the shop, you could see the fuckin lot. Well, young Delbert was blushing and mumbling some shite about it being her early work, and how she’s doing more tasteful stuff now she’s not on Babestation no more and, being a good lad, he goes and invites us in.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So we wanders through the gaff, nice digs, and sits ourselves down in the kitchen. Delbert’s making us a couple of brews in his shiny fucking Nespresso whatsit, and she’s still fuckin clattering about and screeching and wailing about fuck-knows what up the stairs. So Dave bellows, Fuckin keep it down a bit, love, you’re safe, the Old Bill’s here now! And she stops stomping about and goes a bit quiet, but Delbert’s looking at us now, with big fucking scared doe eyes and is shaking his head from side to side like he’s about to have a panic attack or something, and he says quietly, Guys, I wish you hadn’t of done that.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So the three of us is having our Ameri-fuckin-canos, very nice they were too, and young Delbert is spinning a right old yarn, some line of guff about an early night, slipping her indoors the old stiff one eye - sarge, Dave luuuved that bit - and then the old coitus interruptus on the account of hearing a noise or some shit down the stairs. Going to investigate, he’s confronted, he says and I shit you not, by two fucking ninjas, and they give him a right good pasting! Well, when we was walking through to the kitchen, I didn’t see no signs of a struggle, and Delbert wasn’t showing any apparent ill effects of the bleaching from the ninjas, maybe a blackened eye and a cut on his lip, but nothing broken.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So I’m thinking, mate, this sounds a right load of old cock and bull, is he that hard up on the furlough that he’s got a couple of team mates round to stage something for a fucking insurance scam or some shit, when out of nowhere his bird explodes into the room, wailing like a fucking harpy and swishing a golf club about her head like Tiger’s missus back in oh-eight.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I can tell you, guv, she wasn’t wearing much and it was covering even less, and Dave’s jaw would’ve been in his lap but for his fuckin hard-on. She’s obviously pissed out her fuckin nut, screaming dogs abuse and ranting about catching him wanking over some bit on the side he’s got going on a Zoom chat or some shite. Fuckin proper mental stuff, proper. Long story short, she goes and lunges for Delbert, slips on a puddle of Prosecco from a knocked over bottle, clonks him on the head with the golf club, and they both go arse over tit onto the floor.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And I’m thinking, what a fuckin mess, but Dave’s up out his seat in a flash with his phone out. She’s sparked out on the floor giving us an eyeful, and young Delbert is getting up slowly to his feet, a nasty gash – steady, sarge, not that kinda gash – above the eye. As Dave is busy snapping away, I help Delbert onto a stool, then go over to his freezer and get him a bag of frozen peas for his head. The poor bastard, I was starting to feel a bit sorry for him, and I remember thinking to myself, guv, Lidl frozen fuckin peas in a gaff like this, this really must be the end of days right enough.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, by now, guv, Delbert’s showing all the legendary mental strength and fortitude under pressure that got him his England caps, and he’s broken down completely, sobs wracking his body. He’s pressing the bag of peas to his head, and I’m watching as the melting ice is running with the blood into his eyes. The rivers of icy, bloody tears are running down his face, mixing with the snotters running down and off his chin and pooling in the lap of his already pissed joggers. A truly fucking pitiful sight.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">By now, Dave’s ran out of space on his phone’s SIM card, so he checks her for a pulse, then takes a seat and starts reviewing his handywork. So Delbert starts blurting out what had actually happened earlier on, a garbled tale of a secret relationship with a team mate, the same team mate dragged up and performing sex acts in a Zoom chat, his wasted strife walking in on them and setting about him with a dildo. Or it might have been a rolling pin, he wasn’t sure, guv, and it was hard to make out what he was saying anyway, the poor cunt was coughing and chocking back the tears and wasn’t making a lot of sense.
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But again, guv, I found myself thinking, who the fuck has Lidl frozen peas in a gaff like this? Well, next thing I know, the bag of peas splits open, and the bags of fucking Charlie are plopping down into the pool of bodily fluids forming in the lap of his joggers, like fucking croutons into tomato soup, splashing my fuckin uniform. Well, that was the final fucking straw, so we nicked both the cunts for possession. Nice fella that Delbert, makes a good Americano, and his bit’s well easy on the eye, but the rules is the rules, guv, and without rules, it’d be fucking anarchy. Right, sarge, right.</span>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-3462058729750375302020-05-14T23:52:00.000+01:002020-05-14T23:52:26.918+01:00tales from the twilight lockdown zone presents...lockdown golf<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">giving this some serious consideration…goany go up to the local golf
course…it’s ok, I’m normally a member, but the course is closed and my membership
suspended for the duration of the lockdown...before I go, goany take all my
clubs and balls out my golf bag and replace them with bricks, two-by-fours, and
other sundry heavy scrap…you know, get my government prescribed and sanctioned
exercise for the day, push my trolley and golf bag full of building supplies
around the course…while I’m at it, and to keep it interesting, goany have a
pretend round of golf…you know, swing imaginary clubs at imaginary balls,
replace invisible divots, walk my invisible sloth…(sepia toned memory coming
in…do you remember, gentle reader, the stiff dog leads with wire in them from the
70’s and 80’s, looked like you were walking an invisible dog?)...see how long
it’ll be before some local magoo-esque fucking curtain twitcher calls the real
polis, the non-imaginary plod, the bona-fide killjoys, to get me lifted…hello,
yes, I’d like to report someone playing golf…yes, as brazen as the sky is
blue…two pandas and a black mariah on its way, you say, blues and twos, that’s
excellent…got to tell you, gentle reader, this imaginary golf shit is
tough…having trouble following the flight of the ball in this light, I’m
topping my fairway wood, shanking pitches and blading bunker shots forty yards
over the green…but, I’m keeping it real, right?...and who the fuck is this -
fore right! - resplendent in shitkicker boots, high-vis and ppe? someone of my
acquaintance, perhaps?...keep your distance, officer, mind your underlying
health conditions…why, I’m referring to that persistent and over inflated sense
of entitlement and, speaking frankly, that terminal case of self-righteousness
that apparently troubles you so…indeed, and that rarefied air must be thin,
officer, up there on your lofty perch on the back of your clydesdale…aye, that
would be a belter…till the situation turns abusive…again…long story short, get
myself arrested for my trouble, and find myself billeted in carstairs for the
duration of the lockdown, my invisible sloth packed off to the dogs trust, or
maybe the local petting zoo…happy days...</span>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-51629211322499941362020-05-12T00:28:00.001+01:002020-06-01T17:06:32.254+01:00lockdown top-tip #1<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_5eb9dd9bde5817a71257536">
<span style="font-size: large;">here goes for the first in a (very) short series of 'old sarge lockdown top-tips' (with apologies and whatever royalties are due to Viz comic..)...don't thank me, you're weclome...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">old sarge lockdown top-tip #1...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">now, there's no shame in it, but we've all got an IT nerd that we won't admit to knowing or perhaps even having in the family...it might even be looking back at you in the mirror in the morning...but I digress...so, if there's a lockdown birthday just around the cor<span class="text_exposed_show">ner, why not consider old floppy disks and other redundant media formats as an ideal and yet completely pointless lockdown gift for the IT nerd in your life? the 3.25" floppy disk makes for an ideal coaster for those excrutiating Friday night Zoom-er parties that they can't avoid, and if they've smashed all of their architectural salvage public toilet roof artisan slate tile 'dinner plates' in a pique of Come Dine With Me lockdown angst/clarity, old laser disks make for an interesting replacement...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">a box of coasters/some redundant media, yesterday</span></div>
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old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-24966934603464822382013-12-05T13:15:00.003+00:002013-12-05T13:18:16.484+00:00new release at bandcamp 'esc#1'...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfkia6l4ZKq_IZta5H82ngoV3-UqIPZK8EFT0Dmkdr3ivvA7bifvDdRVfziMhE0BCllFuDn4iWKeNIxvI5T5iU9yaaw-zKz8YR2j_uJ_tI1bZ9QPKfDAnRrTQUpsvYIRY3Omeoun5Cv8/s1600/oldsarge_esc%231_1000x1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfkia6l4ZKq_IZta5H82ngoV3-UqIPZK8EFT0Dmkdr3ivvA7bifvDdRVfziMhE0BCllFuDn4iWKeNIxvI5T5iU9yaaw-zKz8YR2j_uJ_tI1bZ9QPKfDAnRrTQUpsvYIRY3Omeoun5Cv8/s320/oldsarge_esc%231_1000x1000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">for artists & galleries (volume 1) esc#1<br /><br />about the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for artists
& galleries<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>series</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">sounds and/or pieces of music to provide inspiration for
artworks</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">serving suggestions</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">listen to the audio while creating your artworks</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">have the audio playing in the gallery when showing your work</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">use the audio in video installations</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">about this release</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">constructed from sounds available in the loop library <b>metamorph</b>
from <b>twisted tools</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">sequenced by the rolls of a pair of monopoly dice</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">these experimental sound collages can be listened to in the
sequence provided or in any random order</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">original audio</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">mp3s 2-9<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/twistedtools/sets/metamorph/">http://soundcloud.com/twistedtools/sets/metamorph/</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">the jesus and mary chain tv interview<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eY4ZXpsoOUg">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eY4ZXpsoOUg</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">notes</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">for higher quality sound files/physical media contact<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/listentooldsargemusic">http://www.facebook.com/listentooldsargemusic</a>
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.5pt;">old sarge acknowledges the authorised and unauthorised use
of third party audio and/or samples in these sound recordings<br />
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old sarge acknowledges the intellectual property rights and original copyright
of the artists and parties involved in creating the audio and/or samples he has
used in these sound recordings</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.5pt;">old sarge welcomes the copying and free distribution of
these sound recordings on a strictly not for profit basis <br />
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copyright © 2013 the original artist(s), brian thomson an erratic monkey
production</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com/album/for-artists-galleries-volume-1-esc-1">http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com/album/for-artists-galleries-volume-1-esc-1</a> ...download includes release notes...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">fin</span></div>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-82961569285907883332013-09-06T23:35:00.002+01:002013-09-07T00:31:55.188+01:00some lightly polished turds for 'Cassette Store Day 2013'<span style="font-size: x-small;">some lightly polished turds have been released back into the wild for 'Cassette Store Day 2013'...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">available here... </span><a href="http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com/"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com</span></span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> ...</span>information follows:</span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>(not so old) sarge 1991-92 cassette demo<span style="font-size: x-small;">s</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>previously ONLY available on cassette, now ONLY available digitally...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">contrary? moi?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">released to coincide with the perfectly ludicrous concept that is 'Cassette Store Day 2013', I will be the first<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>to admit that this is an equally ludicrous concept...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">a selection of guitar and drum machine instrumental demos, recorded straight to cassette in my bedroom in my<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>parents house in, for the most part, one take...with no overdubs or the slightest semblance of production values<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>whatsoever...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">you have been warned..<span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">three guitars were used...my trusty Fender Stratocaster...an old Eko acoustic, with a pickup...a sub-Jack White<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>quality electric 6 string I got as a gift from an old high school friend that I decided, somewhat optimistically,<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>to turn into a 12 string...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">alternate tunings were stumbled upon and pressed into service...colour and texture was provided by overdrive,<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>distortion, chorus, flanger and wah...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">they're the Arion/Rocktek pedals still present and correct in my somewhat expanded pedal board...photo here...</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/listentooldsargemusic"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.facebook.com/listentooldsargemusic</span></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">the beats, where audible, were provided by my (still functioning to this very day) Boss DR-110 Dr Rhythm drum<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>machine (circa 1983...good grief...)...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">so, all of this crap was plugged into a Tandy (oh, the quality...) 2-channel 50w amp, setup for a trebly guitar<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>sound that did the already tinny drum sounds no favours at all...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">the resulting racket was captured for posterity on Maxell and TDK cassettes on The Colonel's lo-fi Realistic (oh,<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>the quality...) home stereo...none of those fandangled 4-track recorders for me, no siree..<span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">the final takes were then bounced onto other cassettes for safe keeping back in '91-'92 then, having been mostly<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>ignored for 20 years, I finally got around to capturing the tracks digitally and, with only the lightest of turd<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>polishing (limited to basic edits and volume/fade adjustments only), here they are for your, ahem<span style="font-size: x-small;">, </span>'delectation'..<span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">my influences at the time of recording have been reflected in the 2013 naming scheme for the tracks and, should<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>you be interested in such trivia, the number in the name reflects the order they were originally recorded in..<span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">when listening back to the tracks, some of these influences are more apparent than others...but if I can recall<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>correctly, those were my intentions at the time...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">as a consequence, as pieces of 'music' per se, I'll be the first to admit they're not very good...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">then again, neither is the fetishisation of dead and dieing music formats...but, I digress...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">anyway, I think you'll agree, there's no doubting my youthful zest, enthusiasm and invention, and that my ambition<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>and imagination certainly exceeded the limitations of my technical prowess...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">so, if you like a bit of shoegaze, noise pop, feedback and effects drenched squall, then you've come to the right<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>place...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">otherwise, you'd best fuck off with your ears (and any credibility I may have garnered with you with my more<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>recent digital musical offerings) still intact<span style="font-size: x-small;">...</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">all the best... os :))</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">fin</span>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-22339743743628696342013-08-29T16:01:00.001+01:002013-08-29T16:01:37.231+01:00new writing: are you being sarcastic, or just weird?<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">an extract from my impending essay/Beat novella: <br /><br />‘“Twitter? Now don’t get me started on that fucking shit…” <br />The Social Networking Pheno-mena-mena-doo-doo-do-do-do<br />(and the time we waste on it, Muppets that we are)’<br /><br />catchy title, eh? <br /><br />it’s probably best to stop here if you’ve got a short attention span, or have any semblance of taste and decency remaining…<br /><br /><br />…and, I'd like to make it clear to all and sundry that if I come across as a cynical, sarcastic, haughty, potty-mouthed, smart-arse know-it-all in this medium, well, that's because I am...<br /><br />‘So, please don’t ‘Like’ any of my posts, it will only encourage me during periods of boredom to do more…’<br /><br />‘I KNOW…hil-larious…’<br /><br />I couldn’t have put it better myself…<br /><br />anyway, I suppose if you’re going to use this medium, it’s probably best to get buck naked and jump right in there, so to speak, embrace it like a family member, disgraced in a sordid political scandal, just released from the local leper colony…<br /><br />but, it’s all so shamelessly self-promotional, isn’t it, collecting associations from the flimsiest of connections, people you can, or could in the past, barely tolerate – <br /><br />‘Who the FUCK cares?’ <br /><br />- in a pitiful, misguided attempt at making yourself feel relevant, worthwhile, accepted? <br /><br />‘Look, you self-aggrandising social media whore…are you being sarcastic, or just weird? Because I just can't tell…’<br /><br />‘Thank you,’ I smiled my reply…<br /><br />something akin, perhaps, to sidling up to some minor celebrity on your first day at rehab, naked from the waist down, eyebrows drawn on with magic marker and an unsteady hand, face puffy from crying…you’ve thoughtfully brought a big box of belly button fluff, nail clippings and other assorted excreta and, while stirring the contents of the box vigorously with an unfeasibly large wooden pan handle, you scream in their face – <br /><br />‘READ my pointless WORDS!<br />LOOK at my dirty PICTURES!<br />LISTEN to my awful MUSIC!<br />FUUUCKING LOOOOVE MEEEEEEEE!’ <br /><br />- over and over and over again…<br /><br />surreptitiously at first, you hasten, inevitably, into a brazen masturbation frenzy…all the while, in full view of your horrified family, friends, and the massed ranks of the world’s media…you fall to your knees, spent, and revel in a strange sensation, a potent, intoxicating mixture of self-loathing and pride…<br /><br />yes…a potent, intoxicating mixture of self-loathing and pride…<br /><br />yes, like pissing in the face of a beloved, perhaps recently deceased, member of the Royal Family…so utterly compelling, but oh so completely unnecessary – <br /><br />‘Are you fucking SERIOUS?’ <br /><br />- yes, it’s exactly like that, yes, yes, yes…only without the unwelcome Police attention and resultant custodial sentence…<br /><br />‘Take me away Officer, I can’t stand this a moment longer…take me away…I’m withdrawing from the human race…’</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">fin</span></span>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-26114922583005152082013-08-26T11:17:00.003+01:002013-08-26T11:24:58.393+01:00new poem: my tattoo<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">my tattoo</span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">in my own misguided way </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I choose to express my individuality </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">to honour the things I love </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">by not etching images and spurious text </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">cod philosophy and raison d’etre </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">into my aged and sagging flesh</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">fin</span></span></div>
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-39057631745458150152013-08-15T14:10:00.001+01:002013-08-15T14:11:04.797+01:00new noise available...new tracks have been uploaded to <a href="http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com/">http://oldsarge.bandcamp.com/</a> and <a href="http://soundcloud.com/oldsarge">http://soundcloud.com/oldsarge</a> for your general ambivalence and disinterest...<br />
<br />
downloads and listens are free...<br />
<br />
there's some lo-fi clank 'n' drone, mangled and badly played blues, and some foolishness assembled some time ago on 'guitar hero world tour'...<br />
<br />
you have been warned...<br />
<br />
finold sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-28348894896135492042013-08-07T15:50:00.000+01:002013-08-07T15:50:48.085+01:00artist's statement (reproduction)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQPTA6V9Xgfh3_Hl7wCeKEQDhMKM7Q6bUW1PIGdxcsp7d7tCv_TyYkdVK-Um3gWzSU9fHTZbqoh1w5zDy01f4AAR-9025YbODBA8GvYZbCh21sdIVW-HyG-EwPmq05iyYNH-2uIIFb3M/s1600/2013.08.06_ArtistsStatement.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQPTA6V9Xgfh3_Hl7wCeKEQDhMKM7Q6bUW1PIGdxcsp7d7tCv_TyYkdVK-Um3gWzSU9fHTZbqoh1w5zDy01f4AAR-9025YbODBA8GvYZbCh21sdIVW-HyG-EwPmq05iyYNH-2uIIFb3M/s320/2013.08.06_ArtistsStatement.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
fin<br />
old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-82041153450287216222013-06-25T11:24:00.003+01:002013-06-25T11:24:33.712+01:00digital art installation...'where did all the time go?'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Hxpk6opcdu01HSoc0KEkI-UT_Dcj1mfGx_RujR2XmELFIdpSumgCSFvgcPc7_Fe5YzLG0V9KeXXStlwJYviRreFFdaOeV6hodAoSb-nJzi38zSi1eGSVifWtYiT176dHravmtVhz9A0/s1600/oldsarge_WhereDidAllTheTimeGoPart_Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Hxpk6opcdu01HSoc0KEkI-UT_Dcj1mfGx_RujR2XmELFIdpSumgCSFvgcPc7_Fe5YzLG0V9KeXXStlwJYviRreFFdaOeV6hodAoSb-nJzi38zSi1eGSVifWtYiT176dHravmtVhz9A0/s320/oldsarge_WhereDidAllTheTimeGoPart_Final.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
<br />
'art'...really?...<br />
<br />
'self referential bollocks'...well, yes, now you're getting it...<br />
<br />
it's called 'where did all the time go?'...<br />
<br />
for obvious reasons, really...<br />
<br />
finold sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-25133619621069066142013-03-13T00:03:00.002+00:002013-03-13T00:03:47.242+00:00my bloody valentine disappointments, parts 1 and 2...first, there was the album...quiet, by modern standards, don't you think?<br />
<br />
did someone accidentally knock the treble fader with their elbow when mastering it, giving it a dull, muffled feel?<br />
<br />
and what is all this audophillic bullshit about mastering from analogue tape...see all of the above?<br />
<br />
an impression of polished demos that needed a bit more work and inspiration...<br />
<br />
you have to ask, is this all by design, or just sheer bloody mindedness?<br />
<br />
an impression that it would have been fine as an additional disc of 'lost tracks' with another release, perhaps, but as a stand-alone album? <br />
<br />
oh, let me tell you, as a huge fan, i've tried and tried, tried to love it...<br />
<br />
but my inclinations are to turn up the treble, cut some of the tracks down to loveless-esque interludes between tracks, resequence it, remix it, make it louder, finish it off...<br />
<br />
maybe i need to wait for the digital remaster to come out, ha ha ha...<br />
<br />
perhaps i was expecting something of a bigger progression, like previous albums, not a treading of water...<br />
<br />
some tracks with a 'city girl' feel, perhaps, or something that would give a buzz, similar to hearing the extra tracks on the ep re-release album last year for the first time...<br />
<br />
but that disappointment paled into insignificance compared to what was to follow...<br />
<br />
second, the gig at the glasgow barrowlands, 9th march 2013...<br />
<br />
i can't dress it up in any other way, the sound was fucking shit...<br />
<br />
a total absence of treble and bass, just a huge middley BLUUUURRGGGHHHH from start to finish...<br />
<br />
the drums were just audible, but the vocals were mixed so low, it was for all intents and purposes an instrumental set...<br />
<br />
a total absence of dynamics in the sound, it was all on or all off...<br />
<br />
it's not enough to just be loud...actually, has the h&s executive neutered live gigs because, to my ears, it wasn't that loud? not like it was in 1992 anyway...<br />
<br />
what was the live sound engineer/mixer up to, couldn't he fucking hear it was shite like the rest of us?<br />
<br />
again, you have to ask, is this all by design, or just sheer bloody mindedness?<br />
<br />
you know that bit in 'soon' where the guitar kicks in and shudders and you should feel it, it should move you, re-arrange your internal organs some?...forget about it...<br />
<br />
'to here knows when' was tragic...<br />
<br />
that's when i gave up, stopped cheering at the end of the songs...i was something i never thought i'd be at a mbv gig, i was bored...<br />
<br />
'you made me realise'...that's an emperor's new clothes moment, surely...let me say it for you, it's okay...<br />
<br />
that's just wanky bollocks, right?<br />
<br />
don't get me wrong, i respect their right to do wanky bollocks, and to its credit, it made my jeans, and possibly my genes, literally flap, shook the booze in my plastic glass, and the earplugs finally did come in handy...<br />
<br />
once again, you have to ask, is this all by design, or just sheer bloody mindedness?<br />
<br />
to end on a more up note, the light show was good, spoiled only by wankers taking photos and videos with their phones...<br />
<br />
what is it with people? can't they just remember they were there? describe to people in words what it was like?<br />
<br />
HOW AM I DOING?<br />
<br />
I WAS THERE, I SAW IT...<br />
<br />
sigh...<br />
<br />
finold sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-37112245477974703042012-05-15T01:57:00.003+01:002012-05-15T02:04:29.025+01:00new acoustic tunes and all downloads now free at bandcamp<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">hello all...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">by no demand whatsoever, there's a bunch of new acoustic tracks to listen to and download over at bandcamp...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">if I can be arsed at some point, I may update the reverbnation player with them too...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">also, all individual tracks and albums can be downloaded from bandcamp in whatever format you'd like for free...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">that is all...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">fin</span>old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6943857123655413178.post-15447259339095569602012-01-27T01:50:00.000+00:002012-01-27T01:50:12.487+00:00new poem/lyrics...<strong>perhaps imagined</strong><br />
<br />
I’m constantly catching glimpses<br />
of perhaps imagined arachnids, insects<br />
rodents and other assorted vermin<br />
scuttling through the half-lit places<br />
in the shadowy peripheries of my eye<br />
there are things you can’t put your hand on<br />
just out of sight, just out of reach<br />
who’s to say that they’re not there?old sargehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04840021456052696827noreply@blogger.com0