Frood and I went to see The Bees last night at The Reading Rooms in Dundee. The last gig we went to was Electric 6 at The Lemon Grove in Exeter so I was very excited.

Well, Frood has been to see Mika Bomb since then but I was a bit poorly that evening.

THE BEES AM FAB!

It was a very small venue — it felt about half the size of the Lemon Grove. The crowd was unreasonably staid, in the main, with many of the audience looking like they were hardly enjoying themselves at all, although that might just be the natural demeanour of Dundonians. At one point I came very close to telling the two blokes in front of me to shift out of my way and go to the back if they didn’t want to dance. I only didn’t because L from work had already given them a row for dropping a beer can on the floor, and had shoved it down the back of bloke on the right’s pants when he refused to pick it up. We don’t think he noticed.

The set was great. Every single track it seemed that the entire band changed positions. Get to the end, all change. I wonder if they ever argue over who gets to play the maracas. Everyone got a shot of everything except the Hammond Organ player and the guitarist, presumably either because they can’t play anything else or no one else can play their instruments the way they do.

They opened with Wash In The Rain, and I was delighted to find that they are even better live than I hoped, and their distinctive style is even more apparent on stage. Gordon admitted he had serious cowboy hat envy before that track had finished. They let us hear some of the new material, which was just a tease as their new album, Octopus, isn’t released until January. As people were busy whooping and hollering, and L was chattering in my ear between tracks I didn’t get to hear what any of the new ones are called, but the slide guitar sound on one of the new tracks was the sort you can feel vibrating through your sternum. Unfortunately most of the audience seemed to be there to hear Chicken Payback, screaming for it after each track, to the point where L said she’d have just played the damn thing at the start and told everyone to fuck off if they weren’t interested in hearing the rest of their music. We all knew they’d keep it until last, or even the encore. Which is what they did.

The surprise moment was the live version of the instrumental track The Russian, from Free The Bees. Absolutely stonking. Well worth the price of entry alone, even with the extorionate ‘convenience charge’ levied by Ticketmaster.

The Bees are currently on their Highlands and Islands tour and will be playing some more venues across Scotland — see the website for details. Catch them if you can.

I bought jeans.

I’m a size 8 [ObUS: 6]. Possibly smaller.

If I buy swimsuits (which do not have to take into account my enormous piston thighs) I’m a 32 European, which is about a 4 in UK sizes. Apart from my boobs.

I’m having issues with my sexy Maru mesh panel 3/4 swimsuit. I keep having near-moments of boob escapage.

This does not seem reasonable. I swear I’m no smaller than I was before. I am pretty damn positive I was at my smallest at uni – and I was a size 12 at uni. It’s not like I’m getting as much exercise as I used to.

Although I’m now up to 1250m in my 30min swim at lunchtimes. Today was the 2nd day in a row I managed that so I can peg that as sustainable now. Anyone know what a reasonable goal is? Is 1500m in 30mins over-ambitious or under-ambitious?

By the way. Boss? It’s lunchtime.

I got inducted today.

I spent an hour on the cardio machines, sweat dripping.

Then nice lady instructor took me through the weights and signed off on my induction sheet, evidently recognising a fellow gym bunny because you’re really supposed to have three induction sessions.

I felt better.

They have this utterly fab crunch machine that wouldn’t be out of place in a dungeon.

Now I just have to avoid the impulse to attempt to become totally ripped cos that just ain’t gonna happen.

I like beer too much.

I just ordered me some boots.

Incidentally, if you’re one of those who likes to read the weirder material as well, please to note that it has become apparent that my new boss is checking up on me by monitoring my website. So the really odd, faintly disturbing material that might worry my employers even if it is written to appear to be obviously fiction will now be posted elsewhere, probably behind a cut.

I am not going to specify where that elsewhere is for obvious reasons, but if you can’t work it out and would like to know, drop me a line at the usual address.

While I don’t much rate The Flaming Lips in general, I’d just like to say that Pompeii Am Gotterdammerung is fab.

The W.A.N.D. is pretty damn fine too, although I’m sure it’s rude.

And does anyone else think the phrase ‘oily parts’ is inherently filthy in more ways than one?

A bunch of thieving scumbag 11 year olds had my seat post off Max on Saturday. Lifted it complete with my Inbred saddle, Specialized seatpack containing my Gerber Cool Tool, Pedro Milk bottle tyre levers and spare tube; and the rear Crud Catcher mudguard. Also had my minipump.

A pox on the little shites. I don’t care if they’re not even teenagers, my wrath is mighty and I can inflict the most dreadful, traumatic nightmares.

Everything else was locked. I just forgot that Max has a QR on the seatpost. You don’t expect that sort of thing around Leven, it’s such a small place. It was so fucking stupid — they were recognised and they’ve been caught on CCTV trying to steal sweets from the shop. I don’t expect to get my stuff back, though. I’ve ridden all over the country, including Oxford and London, and this is the first time I’ve ever had anything nicked.

Thank gods for Ebay and very nice people from C+. Ebay for my Cool Tool and Mike for a replacement saddle. A thousand blessings upon you Mike of the Bike, and Mrs Mike too. I shall, as is traditional, pass the favour on.

Our wonderful and lovely Mrs Provost made me laugh:

Horrid little shitbags.

Looks like they will be destined for a life of misery, young offenders’ institutions and early death from stab wounds, anyway.

Oh, sorry, that should probably read “it’s not their fault, they’re disenfrachised”.

Sorry, blogfans. I have been instructed that I can’t do blogging at work. At least not unless I’m on my lunchbreak, and generally I just about have enough time to catch up on email.

However I have now managed to get my own PC up and running and connected to the infernalweb so I’m just going to have to make time to do it from home.

My current favourite song — the one I listen to cheer myself up. It’s the love of your life, and in my case there are several and somehow this manages to apply to all of them.

Pageant of the Bizarre — Zero 7

It’s never gonna be
Normal, you and me
What you’re signing on for
Is a storm at sea

So if you think you’re tough
Give me all your love
And I’ll give you every little piece of me

Catch a falling star you’ll go far
In the pageant of the bizarre
And tonight I give you my heart

Catch a falling star you’ll go far
In the pageant of the bizarre
And tonight I give you my heart

We will never be a nuclear family
But a rainbow will begin at our feet
And if you take my hand
Beware that this boat can
Run aground making the ocean floor weep

Catch a falling star you’ll go far
In the pageant of the bizarre
And tonight I give you my heart

Catch a falling star you’ll go far
In the pageant of the bizarre
And tonight I give you my heart

Catch a falling star you’ll go far
In the pageant of the bizarre
And tonight I give you my heart

Catch a falling star you’ll go far
In the pageant of the bizarre
And tonight I give you my heart

Take a chance on me, yeah
You’re my remedy, yeah

You may fall indeed, yeah
You’ll find peace with me, yeah

Take a chance on me, yeah
You’re my remedy, yeah

You may fall indeed, yeah
You’ll find peace with me, yeah
Peace with me, yeah

Take a chance on me, yeah
You’re my remedy, yeah

You may fall indeed, yeah

£100 to ‘bling’ my bike? Wow. That’s… generous. I mean, a century of ailing molluscs could buy me… four Surly tuggnuts. Or almost a Brooks Swift. Or a replacement pair of Pave Veloflex for the Pinarello. Or maybe a nice pair of Look CX6 carbon pedals.

You know? I think maybe this offer isn’t aimed at people like me.