Tag Archives: New York

If I Won The Lottery…

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Now that the euromillions runs twice a week and I’m forking out almost £40 a week on that and the normal lottery, I feel that I’m due a great big dirty win. The record amount won by someone in the UK was £113million.

Which, I feel, is a fair amount for me as well.

Here’s how I’d spend it.

1/ Give £13million to Norwich City FC

(cue jokes about wasting money, etc) I love my club, and always have done. By giving them £13big-ones I’d ensure myself a place on the board, so as to be a voice of the fans.

The money would go to redeveloping some of the ground (it’s already a good stadium, but it needs more seats), buying myself an executive box for life – which I wouldn’t use as I’d be in the Snake Pit with the fans – and then whatever is left will go on players. Scott Parker would be a good start.

2/ Sort the clan out

Houses for my sisters, folks and kids. Big fat trust funds, bonds, savings, whatever is advised by the best financial advisers in the country.

Which I’d then ignore and go and spunk it on…

3/ Toys

Boats, cars, quads, you name it. Anything that I don’t need and don’t want I will buy. A Hummer? Why not. And paint it pink.

My own jet, parked up in Southampton airport so that, whenever I feel like it, I can go and fly to one of my many…

4/ Houses

I’d have one in Canada, somewhere around Victoria. With a helicopter in the garden so I can pop out to Calgary and Vancouver. I fucking love Canada. I’d buy a pet bear and let it roam free in the garden. Just because I can.

I’d have a home in Italy, too. A great big villa in the north, with acres of vineyards where Jose will make shit-loads of wine. Jose is Spanish. I’m not sure what he’s doing in Italy. Other than making me wine.

I need a home in the US as well, but I haven’t picked where yet. One around New York, definitely, and one in Chicago for sure. Then I can go and watch the Chicago Bears in every home game.

Rosie Jones

I’d pay for a private photo shoot with Rosie Jones. And by private, I mean she can get butt-naked and let me take pictures. If she feels uncomfortable I’d point at the table next to the camera with enough coinage to make Simon Cowell touch himself.

6/ Sasha Grey

This lady might not do porn anymore but once I whiff the fibre of my monetary fabric under her nose she’ll lay me like a new carpet.

Everyone has their price. I’ll pay whatever hers is.

Incidentally, my price is knocking around the minimum wage mark. Or throw me a quarter pounder and I’m yours.

6/ The Ryde Sandblasters

Excuse me for a moment.

I’d revive my old beach team and make them a force to be reckoned with. We’d tour the world playing football with myself as coach, and a host of ex-professionals flaunting their stuff on the sand.

“Cantona to Maradona… Maradona to Di Canio… Di CANIO TO RUTH… RUTH… RUTH… it’s a throw-in.”

7/  Get that damn book published…

…by finally finishing the damn thing, buying a publishing house, and then publishing it everywhere. If book shops don’t stock it, then I’ll buy them and they’ll do as they are fucking told.

8/ X-box vs PS3

I’d buy every X-box fanboy a lesson in common sense until they actually get some. And a PS3.

9/ Comic

I’d write and release my own comic. Something along the lines of The Walking Dead but without half of the fucking comic being taken up by gushing fanboy letters. I don’t buy porn to read the smutty stories, and I don’t want half my comic to be a fucking letters page.

I used to write comics as a youngster, into my teens, and I think I was getting somewhere at one point. Then I got drunk a lot.

10/ Tattoos

I probably need a couple more. I have some bare skin. Somewhere.

A zombie-sleeve by Dan Gold, then I’d travel the world getting inked by the best tattooists out there.

11/ The Sopranos

Ok, ok, I get the ending, but it’s still a little flat. I’d commission a one-off special just so we find out what exactly happens.

And if the guy at the counter is a shooter…

12/ You can add another episode of Lost to that as well.

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A couple of you that know me might wonder why I haven’t added ‘Buy Shitloads of Porn’ to the list. It’s because I actually own every fucking magazine and dvd ever made. Fact.

That’s all I can think of for now. I probably should add that if I did really win all that cash then I’d probably be dead within a week, via an explosion of Charlie Sheen-like proportions.

Death by pornstars.

I’d take that.

Now, let me know what you’d do with a big win. Go on, blog it. (I’m looking at you Roy Radventurer).

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One Jag, Two Lads – Wu Tang Brixton Academy 4th August

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There you go, there’s the tickets owned by myself and Linden Plumley for our trip up to the Brixton Academy in London last Wednesday (4th August) to see the Mighty, the Massive, the Masters, The Wu Tang Clan.

I’ve been a fan of the Wu since I was a young lad, early teens when they first erupted from New Yorks’ Statton Island and covered the world with their killa bees. Enter the 36 Chambers is one of those albums that is truly timeless – raw, gritty, uncompromising and you can tell that they just didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything.

Heck, maybe that’s why us teenagers loved ‘em back then. I followed them for years and bought all their albums and avidly watched channels like MTV (later the Base channel before it became pop-tastic) and gobbled up any and all videos I could get.

So, and this actually warrants a ‘funnily enough’ tag, but about two weeks ago I was sat at my computer having hammered some new Wu tang thru my speakers when I wondered if there was any chance that they’d ever tour again. Google be thy friend, and what do you know – they were on the last leg of their European Tour!! And their FINAL date was in London in 7 days time! Fate?

It took me all of 5 mins to buy two tickets, and the look of contentment on my face as I sat back in my easy chair grinning at the ticket receipt on my computer screen slowly started to fade as I realised that I hadn’t actually asked anyone to go with me!

First port of call was a guy called Kev, who I knew was as big a fan as I was, but at such short notice he couldn’t get it off of work as another of our friends had just decided to go on holiday at late notice – thanks Jozwell!! Hope you got the shits!

So, armed with two tickets, no partner and the magic of social networking I hit Facebook and whored myself and my Magic Ticket out. Literally first up was Linden. The rest is history.

We drove up to Brixton in my Jag in the pouring rain and in vain search of a Burger King which I desperately needed. Every islander knows that it’s Written In Stone that you hit BK when on the mainland.

Burgerly-disappointed we got to Brixton and managed to park right next to the Academy. Two white kids in a jag in Brixton. Safe as houses.

After some chips and foul (not sic) chicken in the Nando’s opposite we strolled on over and queued. A few hip-hop-hopefuls patrolled the throng selling their own cds and I picked one up from a guy who had toured with the Wu on their last British Tour. Can’t remember his name but he’s featured on Radio One Xtra, Kiss, etc. Still haven’t listened to the cd yet though!!

[Note: The guy is called Achilles Charrington and his cd is really, really good!]

Once inside and the Brixton Academy is obviously decades, if not, hundreds of years old. Two staircases sweep up the sides as the foyer filters the majority thru the middle and into the chamber itself (nice Wu reference there, Jode). The main room is like a bowl with a steeped curve that allows those at the back a view of the stage.

When we entered there were a couple of young lads playing a dj set (Juicy, I think they were called) and these guys were followed by The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble – a group of 8 brothers (same father anyway) who all played brass instruments in Hip Hop flavours! Very impressive…

Next up was MistaJam from Radio One Xtra who tore things up with a live mix set of 90s New York Hip Hop which he smashed. His energy and vibe and ability to work the crowd and know what they liked was spot on, although by the end you could tell he was being told to keep going while the Wu readied themselves. The shouts of “Wu Wu Wu Wu” were growing stronger and stronger…

Then they hit the stage. I haven’t got many photos as the crowd surged forward and I couldn’t hold my camera up high enough to get any good ones, but luckily Linden’s clearing 6 foot, so, flicking the camera to video mode he got some good footage of the Wu live and in full effect. Add me on facebook and see the videos on there.

Alas, ODB had passed away the year previously (although this allowed RZA to rap ‘Shimmy Shimmy Ya’ – something to tell my kids about) and Method Man was either a/ filming a new film, or b/ with his wife because she has cancer. Seeing as RZA said he was filming and some guy in the queue mentioned cancer I know which one I’m holding onto.

So, a twenty year love affair with a gang of black men from NY culminated in an explosion of sound and jumping sweaty, bodies in Brixton academy. It was worth the wait. I can’t think of anything better.

Oh, except maybe watching the Wu Tang sing The Beatles ‘Come Together’.

Fuckin’ A.