I see liberals/ I am just a fashion accessory...

I photographed the beatbox guy from the Police Academy films the other day. Whatever. Then Mr. Henry Rimmer (A Mayfair gentleman if ever there was one) did me a big favor. The Manics play the O2 tonight and I am supposed to be there and partying like its 1999. But why are the hell are they so in bed with that comic the NME? who gave them so much hate as I suffered (really) to give them so much love despite the derision and bullying I received for my trouble when I worked there. I am really disappointed so I've blown it out. I suppose I remain so modern that everything is pointless. Especially that gig. Here's Hoping it's the last ever one. Go quietly boys...

I seen 'em fight like lions boys/ I seen them go like lambs/ And I've helped to drag them when they could not stand...

I have re-upped at FHM. Happy birthday socialismmagazine.blogspot.com at the Green Man, Fitzrovia. Early exit as another shoot at the flat Friday. Great attitudes from Nikki, Teresa, Jade and Stef as usual. Usual Sintra aftershow then up and at 'em Saturday in the staunch SAAB (2 litre low pressure turbo) for just one night back in tha mudd. Taz is not sure about Mum's new cat cushions. Back E17 endz to drunken Spurs fans. Saw a horrible car crash on the M11 this afternoon, 2 souls were flying skywards as a mess of blood, oil and screaming metal shut all three lanes northbound.

I volunteered for the Army on my birthday/ They draft the white trash first, 'round here anyway....

Photographed a doctor then onto NW1 to see STEVE EARLE. He is my hero.

You can bet that I stand ready/ When the wolf growls at the door....

Feeling surprisingly agile on Saturday morning we headed down to Bexhill-On-Sea in the SAAB (nothing on earth comes close) to a depressing magnolia hotel. A clever man once described magnolia paint as "the colour of english depression". Very true. Great pool and jacuzzi though, the sun was shining over a brutally cold De Warr Pavillion. On the way back we drove part what used to be my home Dark Farm and is now in the process of being destroyed in a Footballers Wives stylee. No cows, no soul. The countryside is being destroyed. Horrible to see. Later hit the 100 Club with J OL (he's number 1!) to watch the dawn of The New Wave Of The New Grave scene featuring SCUM and ELECTRICTY FOR HOMES etc. It was like being in Spiders night club in Hull circa 1987. No really, it was. Got the hell out of there before the midnight hour for obvious reasons. You've seen 'From Dusk Till Dawn' right? Also its absolutely wonderful news that Kosovo has declared independence.

Why was I wandering alone in this city of the dead?/ Why was I alive, when London was lying in state in its black shroud?...

ABCs have put the day mag well ahead in the game so the guvnors took us to the Blue Posts for the afternoon. Very aware of the potential for carnage I ducked out with Nikki and Jess to a couple of fashion week shows. Dinner then the bar before Ms Lucy Bright's 30th birthday party. It was very wonderful to catch up with people I think of with great affection and fondness and whom I have missed very much the last few years including Mary, Sasha, Rachel, Sam and, of course, the birthday girl herself. Trust Lucy to find the coolest venue in London. Then later onto a post-apocalyptic Manor House for Cappers party. I lit up a taxi driver who maybe wanted to kill me but as always brother dailytitlow had my back. Staunch.

Solid on the surface as I crumble within/ But legends are made out of vunerable men....

Happy valentines night spent drinking MIAB with TK1 then Sagres with dailytitlow. We are winning the war with shock and awe as all the other mens mags slowly bleed to death.

Never mind me 'cause I've been dead/ Out of my body, been out of my head...

Beggars, The Courteeners and some other bloke played a murky Brixton Academy Monday. Thanks for the pass J.G. Then back to the (very) close Cafe Sintra. Tudu Bem!

Soon as we could see clearly/ Through our big black eye/ Man, we lit up your world like it was the fourth of July...

Jumped the train to the north west for the next phase of the punk rock Alasdair Sawday project. Manchester, Blackpool and then ended up at the Liverpool Holiday Inn. Met a landlord who should be the next Prime Minister of this dumb country. Holy shit! is that my former commanding officer Mr Tim Southwell with Betty Boo at the bottom? It fucking is!

I got a candle/ And I've got a spoon/ I live in a hallway with no doors/ And no rooms

Dropped by Gerard Mankowitz's Lenny Kravitz photo exhibition then onto the bar for Mr John Niven's book launch for his new novel 'Kill Your Freinds' which tells the savage story of a physcotic A+R man. I urge you to go and get a copy now. It's brilliant if a little too close to home for comfort. Like the good doctor once said "The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side." In other news Grace has busted her 5th metatarsal. Elsewhere R.I.P First magazine, New Woman magazine and perhaps the greatest live band of all time Montreal's GODSPEED YOU BLACK EMPEROR. They all been caught by the reaper.