My little dumplings!

Yes that’s a term of endearment. Or used to be. But not anymore. Not since I saw the film ‘Dumplings’ at The Cornerhouse with Sha yesterday. The film also managed to put me off dumplings or, for that matter, any suspicious-looking Chinese food. Wait, I never used to eat suspicious-looking Chinese food anyway. For good reason, as this film shows us.
Mrs. Li (Miriam Yeung) used to be a T.V. star (television, not transvestite) but now she’s getting older, and is worried about keeping her millionaire husband’s shifting attention. She hears about Aunt Mei (Bai Ling) and her miraculous dumplings that reverse the process of aging, so turns up to buy and eat some. Mei is her own best advertisement, as she says so herself, because despite being 20 years old in 1940 she still looks 30 max. And fit.
Unfortunately (mostly for the audience) the dumplings have a secret ingredient that’s abso-fuckin-lutley revolting. Go watch it if you have the bollocks of a gorilla. I only saw half the movie because of the chilling scenes, so I want my money back.
It’s a strong statement about the lengths people (women) will go to in order to stay young, and societal pressures, and blah-dee-blah, but that’s not why you’ll remember it. You’ll remember it for the secret ingredient that abso-fuckin-lutley disgusts you. Promise.

Gogol Bordello again!!

I’ve mentioned Gogol Bordello before. Their music just leaves a smile on your face. Absolute crazy-daft lyrics. Like “Drop the charges. In the old times, it was not a crime” referring to God-only-knows what. I bought their album ‘Gypsy Punks’ recently, and I was smiling as soon as I left home with my Walkman. I seriously recommend you to go check them out a their website: Gogol Bordello. And you’re guarnateed a smile.

Some more lines

Sally was a fifteen year old girl from Nebraska
Gypsies were passing through her little town
They dropped something on the road, she picked it up…
And cultural revolution right away begun!
Yes right away begun!!

Now dub it tovarisch, like tovarisch would!

Wimbledon Women / My gig

Ah, tennis!! Specifically, Wimbledon. More precisely, Women’s Wimbledon :). I don’t know about you but some real funny names are creeping into the game. I remember sleaze-connoisseur Rory McGrath joking on the telly show ‘They think it’s all over’ about how his “Hand took over” when he saw Daniela Hantuchova. I’m not saying I mirror the sentiment, I’m merely reporting.
I played my first gig (as a drummer; my first gig as an adult entertainer was waay back when) last Wednesday when Sha and I found ourselves in the Iguana bar in Chorlton. I got talking to a guy called Steve who sat at our table. He was playing bass for the reggae band that was tuning up on stage after the stupid poetress had finally buggered off, and I commented on the fact that although the drum kit was set up, there appeared to be no drummer in sight. I think I also slipped in the fact that I was of the same trade myself. So when they got playing, Steve started winking at me and motioning me on stage, and I played reluctant till it became obvious that I was begged to play so if I was shite it wasn’t my fault. I then stepped up and got a few songs in. Now reggae is not what I usually play; ask any drummer and they’ll tell you it’s quite the opposite of rock and difficult to play if not practiced. So I had to keep my mind on the job my bass foot was doing, which didn’t leave much room for fancy work. But I think I managed okay. The drum kit itself was weird; the snare was the size of an elephant’s ear (and I’m talking BIG elephants), the two toms were huge as well, and there was no ride cymbal. I had only the hi-hats and a small crash to work with, which were of a damn poor quality. So, if I sucked big time, there’s the reason.