Keith McDougallChapter One, In Which Our Hero Starts Writing a Blog
March 2nd 2008 11:06
Oh hello there. My name's Keith, and sometimes I go by the absurd alias Cathead LaQuack. If you know me you probably already know why, and if you don't, well, it's not a very interesting story. So anyway, I decided to start a blog after discovering orble.com on a careers site. Apparently you can actually get paid for blogging, who'da thunkit - this had never actually occurred to me before. I'm looking for a job at the moment, but unfortunately I'm an unemployable arts graduate with very little experience, connections or motivation. But I can write, I think, so maybe writing a blog is a good place to start. I've tried to get into this blogging caper a couple of times before, but this time I've actually got an incentive to keep it up. I'll just keep writing stuff here and then before I know it I'll be swimming in cash, yeah?
So what's this blog all about then? Because it amuses me somewhat, I'm going to answer to answer that question with a Jay-Z quote: "What you about to witness is my thoughts, just my thoughts man - right or wrong, just what I was feeling at the time, uhh, you ever felt like this, you vibe with me, walk with a nigga man - just vibe with me"
So anyway, writing, then. This blog's where I start writing and trying to be a writer and stuff. Writing, eh? It's sort of like talking, innit, except it's quieter. So what do you want to talk about? Um, so how was your day? Oh yeah? Yeah mine was good too - work was good. What? Oh, I knock on doors and ask people for money for the Epilepsy Foundation. Today I actually collected more money than I ever have before: $230, and I've been doing this shit for like three years or something. It was also good because quite a few weird things happened. Something odd was in the air, I swear.
The first weird thing was someone shouting "FUCKING FAGGOT!" at me out of a car window. Actually, that wasn't very good. I'm not really the kind of person who gets offended easily, and usually that kind of thing just amuses me, even when hoons used to shout things at me and my (ex-)girlfriend like "Get your hands off my girl!", but this time it was a bit of a shock. I wasn't even wearing anything particularly fruity (as I sometimes do), just my schoolboy outfit. (I'm actually nearly 25) It's not intended to make me look like a schoolboy, it's just functional: shorts and short sleeves for a hot day, a shirt to make me look respectable, a backpack to carry shit in. So fuck them. Whatever.
The second weird thing was an old lady lying down on the floor of her porch. This weirded me out a bit. I didn't want to go too close because then I'd be standing over her, looking down on her, and that would be weird. But keeping my distance was weird too. Since the line of communication had to travel several metres between a deaf, senile, horizontal person, and a mumbling, stuttering, vertical schoolboy slacker, it came out a little odd. I asked her if she wanted to donate to the Epilepsy Foundation. She asked me if I wanted a jar of jam. I said no thanks but do you want to make a donation. She said "How about chutney?" Laughing nervously, I said "That's very nice of you but..." She said "What's wrong, don't you like jam?" "No, I do, but I'm just after a donation for the Ep..." "OK then, what are you collecting for?" "Epilepsy." So she gave me fifty bucks. Fifty bucks!
So yeah, that's my job. Fascinating stuff, eh? Cerrazy times. And that's nothing mate, the stories I could tell you, huh-haw! mate! hoo hoo! heehee. ha. errr.
Hm. I guess I've never been the best talker. Apart from about music, that is. When I was in my late teens/early 20s, music was all I'd ever talk about. But now I feel like such a wanker and a nerd when I talk about music. So I just don't talk. Except when I get drunk and start making bets with people about what year a Nick Cave album came out, or asking them to rank their top five Zeppelin songs, or waxing philosophical about grime. Other people wake up hungover and feel embarrassed about who they pashed or how they offended people last night - I wake up feeling embarrassed about crapping on like a braindead wanker about music.
But I think you can get away with being a wanker when you write, rather than drink and talk. So most of this blog is probably going to be about music. Blogging can be my way of being a wanker guilt-free. This is a music blog, named after a song by Disco Inferno, but it might have a few ramblings about my adventures in Brunswick sharehouses.
I'm halfway through a piece on the super genius Swedish band Tough Alliance, who you should check out if you haven't. I can't wait to see them at the V Festival - apparently their live shows are all lip synced!
At first my writing's probably going to seem like a bad rip-off of Simon Reynolds, Tim Finney, Jess Harvell or Matthew Ingram. In terms of my taste, I'm really just a parasite feeding off their sweet juicy reccomendations, e.g. Tim's ravings about Tough Alliance on Facebook. So to avoid that, I'll try to include writings about music that hasn't already been praised by my favourite writers. I'll stray from my comfort zone and use writing to explore new musical territory.
OK I'm going to sign out now. That's my maiden post done. Watch this space, I'll be back with more gold soon, serious!
So what's this blog all about then? Because it amuses me somewhat, I'm going to answer to answer that question with a Jay-Z quote: "What you about to witness is my thoughts, just my thoughts man - right or wrong, just what I was feeling at the time, uhh, you ever felt like this, you vibe with me, walk with a nigga man - just vibe with me"
So anyway, writing, then. This blog's where I start writing and trying to be a writer and stuff. Writing, eh? It's sort of like talking, innit, except it's quieter. So what do you want to talk about? Um, so how was your day? Oh yeah? Yeah mine was good too - work was good. What? Oh, I knock on doors and ask people for money for the Epilepsy Foundation. Today I actually collected more money than I ever have before: $230, and I've been doing this shit for like three years or something. It was also good because quite a few weird things happened. Something odd was in the air, I swear.
The first weird thing was someone shouting "FUCKING FAGGOT!" at me out of a car window. Actually, that wasn't very good. I'm not really the kind of person who gets offended easily, and usually that kind of thing just amuses me, even when hoons used to shout things at me and my (ex-)girlfriend like "Get your hands off my girl!", but this time it was a bit of a shock. I wasn't even wearing anything particularly fruity (as I sometimes do), just my schoolboy outfit. (I'm actually nearly 25) It's not intended to make me look like a schoolboy, it's just functional: shorts and short sleeves for a hot day, a shirt to make me look respectable, a backpack to carry shit in. So fuck them. Whatever.
The second weird thing was an old lady lying down on the floor of her porch. This weirded me out a bit. I didn't want to go too close because then I'd be standing over her, looking down on her, and that would be weird. But keeping my distance was weird too. Since the line of communication had to travel several metres between a deaf, senile, horizontal person, and a mumbling, stuttering, vertical schoolboy slacker, it came out a little odd. I asked her if she wanted to donate to the Epilepsy Foundation. She asked me if I wanted a jar of jam. I said no thanks but do you want to make a donation. She said "How about chutney?" Laughing nervously, I said "That's very nice of you but..." She said "What's wrong, don't you like jam?" "No, I do, but I'm just after a donation for the Ep..." "OK then, what are you collecting for?" "Epilepsy." So she gave me fifty bucks. Fifty bucks!
So yeah, that's my job. Fascinating stuff, eh? Cerrazy times. And that's nothing mate, the stories I could tell you, huh-haw! mate! hoo hoo! heehee. ha. errr.
Hm. I guess I've never been the best talker. Apart from about music, that is. When I was in my late teens/early 20s, music was all I'd ever talk about. But now I feel like such a wanker and a nerd when I talk about music. So I just don't talk. Except when I get drunk and start making bets with people about what year a Nick Cave album came out, or asking them to rank their top five Zeppelin songs, or waxing philosophical about grime. Other people wake up hungover and feel embarrassed about who they pashed or how they offended people last night - I wake up feeling embarrassed about crapping on like a braindead wanker about music.
But I think you can get away with being a wanker when you write, rather than drink and talk. So most of this blog is probably going to be about music. Blogging can be my way of being a wanker guilt-free. This is a music blog, named after a song by Disco Inferno, but it might have a few ramblings about my adventures in Brunswick sharehouses.
I'm halfway through a piece on the super genius Swedish band Tough Alliance, who you should check out if you haven't. I can't wait to see them at the V Festival - apparently their live shows are all lip synced!
At first my writing's probably going to seem like a bad rip-off of Simon Reynolds, Tim Finney, Jess Harvell or Matthew Ingram. In terms of my taste, I'm really just a parasite feeding off their sweet juicy reccomendations, e.g. Tim's ravings about Tough Alliance on Facebook. So to avoid that, I'll try to include writings about music that hasn't already been praised by my favourite writers. I'll stray from my comfort zone and use writing to explore new musical territory.
OK I'm going to sign out now. That's my maiden post done. Watch this space, I'll be back with more gold soon, serious!
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Comment by Joanne Fedler
Cheers
Jo