Here is a link to the Ram Raid's new video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUDKeslAguc&feature=youtube_gdata_player
It mainly features the handsome Jim playing drums, Abe talking about his prowess in the pizza making department and Sean pulling funny faces. They are a multi talented set of very nice boys.
Not sure why the tags for this video include 'bitches' 'hoes' and 'the x factor'. Because I can't see it having anything to do with any of those things
I'm also very impressed with the 1940s aeroplane clip at the beginning. Like a bit of history with my Rock music!
Watch the video, get excited, get ready to order their new CD (and if you do order it, tell them that Seasonaire in the City introduced you to them and maybe, eventually they will give me a free copy)
Don't let the fact they are from Grimsby put you off. It's very Rock and Roll Grimsby.
Wednesday 22 August 2012
Tuesday 21 August 2012
Just to be fair- The Dominos
The Dominos are playing this Thursday at Agenda, London and next Thursday at The Gable, Moorgate.
Go see them.
They are also asking for song requests. I am writing a long list.
The list may or may not include mysterious girl (ok it does)
Go see them.
They are also asking for song requests. I am writing a long list.
The list may or may not include mysterious girl (ok it does)
New Ram Raid video
Watch, appreciate, look them up, go see them live, buy their stuff.
Get excited
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YxF1RXwtQM&feature=youtube_gdata_player
Get excited
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YxF1RXwtQM&feature=youtube_gdata_player
Sunday 19 August 2012
The week the geography teacher came to stay.
The childcare manager had gone on about his friend coming to stay for months. In fact he had first brought up the subject on the first day we moved in together. The geography teacher was coming at February half term (obviously the school holidays). By that time we had all settled into the routine of life in the mountains. We knew Meribel like the back of our hands.
The closer we got to the week of his arrival the more excited the childcare manager got. And he pretended he wasn't excited but he was. He was the most excited I had seen him since he found out the rep was coming to live with us.
Sunday night was Toss the Boss night at Jack's, a bar in town. Toss the boss is legendary in Meribel. On a Sunday night every Seasonaire in Meribel packs themselves into Jack's, where, for every round you buy, you roll a dice with the owner. If you score higher, you get the round free. The cynic in me says that this just leads to queuing up for your drink much longer than you ordinarily would have done. And that as half of Meribel is there, the queue for the toilet is astronomical. I am that cynical about it because I never won. However, more often that not, I was so knackered from transfer day I couldn't muster the energy to go. For me, transfer day often meant my alarm went off at 4.30am and I worked right through till 7pm. This did not usually put me in the party mood and when most people were 'Tossing the Boss', I was at home in my PJs.
The Sunday before the arrival of the geography teacher, the childcare manager, the rep and myself were sat in our living room. We were so tired from a knackering transfer day that we were sitting motionless, preserving the tiny bit of energy that we had left so we would be able to make it from the living room to the bedroom. The rep has sweets. She always had sweets.
The childcare manager turned to us both and said 'next week I have to go to Toss the Boss'. He went on to explain that as his friend was coming to stay, he would have to take him out and show him a good time. And that would involve toss the boss. And going out after transfer day. He tried to stir himself up, encourage himself like an athlete before a race, 'I can do it, I can!', and then a little less energetically 'I must, I have too'. Even the thought was making my brain ache, so I went to bed.
The next week rolled around. The child care manger was over excited. I didn't meet the geography teacher on the Saturday he arrived. When I got home from work he was already fast asleep on the sofa. He was still asleep when I went to work at 6 am the next morning. I was on a split shift and managed to have a nice nap in the middle of the day. I was therefore not totally desperate to pass out and I went to Toss the Boss.
It was full of people. And the child cre manager and the geography teacher we all but looking longingly into each others eyes. There was no doubt it was a beautiful bromance.
I didn't win any rounds at Toss the Boss. I went home. Knackered.
It was nice having the geography teacher in the house. He was usually there when I came home from work. And he was always up for a nice chat. And he was fully prepared to gang up on the child care manager, which was always good fun.
Along came wednesday après and luckily I had the afternoon off. I had gone along to Meribar to write some letters and have a pizza. And to get a good table to watch The Ram Raid (not written about them in a while, but they were always there). I had bigged up The Ram Raid to the geography teacher and I could tell he was intrigued.
About fifteen seconds after everyone arrived and interrupted my peaceful perving, the child care manager suggested buying a bottle of toffee vodka. Quite early on he had figured out that us all putting in a couple of euros meant we could buy bottles rather than single shots, and this made it much cheaper. The child care manager's insistence on shots on a Wednesday was almost legendary, and had, amongst other things, led to certain members of staff stripping off and going swimming. It also meant that most people were in bed, wasted, by about 8pm. There were many occasions when I came home after work on a Wednesday and there was half a bottle of toffee vodka on the kitchen work surface and a snoring child care manager asleep with the door open.
So the child care manager managed to squeeze enough money out of us to buy two bottles of toffee vodka and a bottle of apple vodka.
The next hour and a half consisted of drinking shots and me telling people to 'bloody well sit down I can't see The Ram Raid'! This might or might not have got more and more aggressive as the liquid was drained.
When the band was finished I decided to go find food. I quickly decided I couldn't be bothered waiting and should instead go home and make pasta.
When I got home (about 8pm) the child care manager was fast asleep and the geography teacher was making his bed up in the living room.
I considered launching into a conversation about how history was way better than geography (I do like a good argument, especially after a few drinks) but instead put my pjs on (I am at most attractive when in pjs) and made a hot water bottle.
I was a little taken aback by the level of shock that radiated off the geography teacher when said hot water bottle was produced. He was quite rude about it. Comments such as 'no one under 60 has a hot water bottle' and 'they are just for old ladies who have lost the circulation in their legs' were banded about. I told him to sod off. And that my hot water bottle was the only thing that kept me warm at night. I then realised I was drifting in to dangerously embarrassing territory and that I had two options; either go to bed, or try to drunkenly come on to the geography teacher while wearing horrific pyjamas and holding a teddy bear shaped hot water bottle.
I took the hot water bottle to bed. Much (I expect) to the relief of the geography teacher.
The closer we got to the week of his arrival the more excited the childcare manager got. And he pretended he wasn't excited but he was. He was the most excited I had seen him since he found out the rep was coming to live with us.
Sunday night was Toss the Boss night at Jack's, a bar in town. Toss the boss is legendary in Meribel. On a Sunday night every Seasonaire in Meribel packs themselves into Jack's, where, for every round you buy, you roll a dice with the owner. If you score higher, you get the round free. The cynic in me says that this just leads to queuing up for your drink much longer than you ordinarily would have done. And that as half of Meribel is there, the queue for the toilet is astronomical. I am that cynical about it because I never won. However, more often that not, I was so knackered from transfer day I couldn't muster the energy to go. For me, transfer day often meant my alarm went off at 4.30am and I worked right through till 7pm. This did not usually put me in the party mood and when most people were 'Tossing the Boss', I was at home in my PJs.
The Sunday before the arrival of the geography teacher, the childcare manager, the rep and myself were sat in our living room. We were so tired from a knackering transfer day that we were sitting motionless, preserving the tiny bit of energy that we had left so we would be able to make it from the living room to the bedroom. The rep has sweets. She always had sweets.
The childcare manager turned to us both and said 'next week I have to go to Toss the Boss'. He went on to explain that as his friend was coming to stay, he would have to take him out and show him a good time. And that would involve toss the boss. And going out after transfer day. He tried to stir himself up, encourage himself like an athlete before a race, 'I can do it, I can!', and then a little less energetically 'I must, I have too'. Even the thought was making my brain ache, so I went to bed.
The next week rolled around. The child care manger was over excited. I didn't meet the geography teacher on the Saturday he arrived. When I got home from work he was already fast asleep on the sofa. He was still asleep when I went to work at 6 am the next morning. I was on a split shift and managed to have a nice nap in the middle of the day. I was therefore not totally desperate to pass out and I went to Toss the Boss.
It was full of people. And the child cre manager and the geography teacher we all but looking longingly into each others eyes. There was no doubt it was a beautiful bromance.
I didn't win any rounds at Toss the Boss. I went home. Knackered.
It was nice having the geography teacher in the house. He was usually there when I came home from work. And he was always up for a nice chat. And he was fully prepared to gang up on the child care manager, which was always good fun.
Along came wednesday après and luckily I had the afternoon off. I had gone along to Meribar to write some letters and have a pizza. And to get a good table to watch The Ram Raid (not written about them in a while, but they were always there). I had bigged up The Ram Raid to the geography teacher and I could tell he was intrigued.
About fifteen seconds after everyone arrived and interrupted my peaceful perving, the child care manager suggested buying a bottle of toffee vodka. Quite early on he had figured out that us all putting in a couple of euros meant we could buy bottles rather than single shots, and this made it much cheaper. The child care manager's insistence on shots on a Wednesday was almost legendary, and had, amongst other things, led to certain members of staff stripping off and going swimming. It also meant that most people were in bed, wasted, by about 8pm. There were many occasions when I came home after work on a Wednesday and there was half a bottle of toffee vodka on the kitchen work surface and a snoring child care manager asleep with the door open.
So the child care manager managed to squeeze enough money out of us to buy two bottles of toffee vodka and a bottle of apple vodka.
The next hour and a half consisted of drinking shots and me telling people to 'bloody well sit down I can't see The Ram Raid'! This might or might not have got more and more aggressive as the liquid was drained.
When the band was finished I decided to go find food. I quickly decided I couldn't be bothered waiting and should instead go home and make pasta.
When I got home (about 8pm) the child care manager was fast asleep and the geography teacher was making his bed up in the living room.
I considered launching into a conversation about how history was way better than geography (I do like a good argument, especially after a few drinks) but instead put my pjs on (I am at most attractive when in pjs) and made a hot water bottle.
I was a little taken aback by the level of shock that radiated off the geography teacher when said hot water bottle was produced. He was quite rude about it. Comments such as 'no one under 60 has a hot water bottle' and 'they are just for old ladies who have lost the circulation in their legs' were banded about. I told him to sod off. And that my hot water bottle was the only thing that kept me warm at night. I then realised I was drifting in to dangerously embarrassing territory and that I had two options; either go to bed, or try to drunkenly come on to the geography teacher while wearing horrific pyjamas and holding a teddy bear shaped hot water bottle.
I took the hot water bottle to bed. Much (I expect) to the relief of the geography teacher.
Sunday 5 August 2012
The fireman calendar.
So, iv just been home for a few days and picked up some things. Amongst the things I brought back to decorate the blank walls of my rented room was my fireman calendar. That calendar represents one of the biggest disappointments I suffered while living in France (followed by not meeting a single Russian billionaire, let alone a handsome one who wanted to marry me and never being able to finish a raclette).
A few days before New Years two men walked into the hotel. I was someway off but was going over that way so hurried over to see what they wanted. They were talking to the manager who turned to me and told me that they were selling fireman calendars. Meribel fireman calendars.
'You should buy one' the manager said, 'always good to have the local fire service on side' he whispered 'let's not piss them off by not buying one'.
I was not thinking about getting in their good books by buying their calendar. I was thinking about having pictures of attractive firemen on my wall. By this time the rep had come over and her eyes had lit up with the prospect of the the firemen calendar too. We paid €5 for the calendar and the men made a swift exit. We hardly noticed them leave. We were ready to feast our eyes on the firemen.
Then, all gathered round the reception desk, the surprise and the disappointment set in. The calendar was full of pictures of road traffic accidents the Meribel fire service had visited. This is why the men selling it had made a quick exit, they knew it was crap and didn't want us to demand our money back once we had seen it. Each picture had several smiling firemen sat in the devastated wreckage of a car that had just come of the road. That seemed inappropriate at best. Along side these pictures were the smiling faces of firemen and women going about their daily business, in the office, in the cupboard where they keep the medical supplies, in the fruit and veg shop. Not a single handsome fireman wearing just a helmet with nothing but a fire hose to cover his dignity.
Me and the rep looked at each other with disappointment and then bust into laughter. It really was the most bizarre thing we had ever bought. We had just spent €5 on a load of pictures of road traffic accidents. We then precedes to choose our favourite picture.
The calendar when straight up on our living room wall and we showed it to everyone who came to the house. It made me smile every time I looked at it. It still does. Which is why it is now up in my house in London. And I will continue showing it to everyone who comes round.
A few days before New Years two men walked into the hotel. I was someway off but was going over that way so hurried over to see what they wanted. They were talking to the manager who turned to me and told me that they were selling fireman calendars. Meribel fireman calendars.
'You should buy one' the manager said, 'always good to have the local fire service on side' he whispered 'let's not piss them off by not buying one'.
I was not thinking about getting in their good books by buying their calendar. I was thinking about having pictures of attractive firemen on my wall. By this time the rep had come over and her eyes had lit up with the prospect of the the firemen calendar too. We paid €5 for the calendar and the men made a swift exit. We hardly noticed them leave. We were ready to feast our eyes on the firemen.
Then, all gathered round the reception desk, the surprise and the disappointment set in. The calendar was full of pictures of road traffic accidents the Meribel fire service had visited. This is why the men selling it had made a quick exit, they knew it was crap and didn't want us to demand our money back once we had seen it. Each picture had several smiling firemen sat in the devastated wreckage of a car that had just come of the road. That seemed inappropriate at best. Along side these pictures were the smiling faces of firemen and women going about their daily business, in the office, in the cupboard where they keep the medical supplies, in the fruit and veg shop. Not a single handsome fireman wearing just a helmet with nothing but a fire hose to cover his dignity.
Me and the rep looked at each other with disappointment and then bust into laughter. It really was the most bizarre thing we had ever bought. We had just spent €5 on a load of pictures of road traffic accidents. We then precedes to choose our favourite picture.
The calendar when straight up on our living room wall and we showed it to everyone who came to the house. It made me smile every time I looked at it. It still does. Which is why it is now up in my house in London. And I will continue showing it to everyone who comes round.
Friday 3 August 2012
Left a bit, right a bit OWW Can we just stop now?
So im taking a break from writing this weekend. It's my birthday weekend and on Sunday I'm turning 25. Coincidentally the childcare manager is also celebrating his birthday on Sunday. He is a bit older than 25 though.
So as a bit of a rest someone else has written the following post. She emailed it to me after a twitter discussion about whether it was possible to have really good, earth shattering sex as a Seasonaire. Or if it is always just a bit awkward and not really worth the grief you get from everyone else the next day. Interesting debate and feel free to have your own input. So in answer to my question I had a rather impassioned reply I just had to share. I have done a slight bit of editing to remove names, places and job titles!!! She's a brave girl!
Sex and the Seasonaire: Is it possible to have good sex on season? Of course it is, but as always there’s going to be some good, some bad & some which can only be described as UGLY!
As my hotel’s ‘Cock Jockey’ of the season I feel I have valid input! Let’s start with the good;
When I set off on season I vowed to remain single, but never did I vow to stay celibate, I know myself too well to make such statements! When I arrived at Geneva airport ready for management training I was nervous, but when I saw the guy holding the clipboard the nerves kind of dissolved I looked at him and simply thought, ‘well, we’re going to have sex!’ its like a sixth sense which pops up every now and then. After a week of gentle flirting and some quantity of rum I found myself in this guy’s room, we were supposed to be topping our drinks up and heading back downstairs to the bar, we both knew it wasn’t really going to happen. We had the most hip shattering session, the kind of thing most people only actually think happen in the movies, we barely slept and hit my record of 6 times a night ;) I set off on the walk of shame the next days with a bruised spine & carpet burns on my feet that scarred! I rarely have one night stands, and this was not that kind of occasion, we continued having fabulous sex until said guy disappeared over the mountain for his season. Leaving me with a smile on my face everytime I look at my feet!
If only it was always so good;
Every now and then we would set off out and I would have one goal; to pull. Girls have needs and occasionally they just have to be met otherwise getting laid turns into a huge distraction/preoccupation. Anyway one night at somepoint over the season we set off out and I knew it was one of those nights, everyone from the hotel was out and I had the following day off. There was a guy in our staff who was slightly different from the others, the difference being he was nice. As assistant hotel manager, not many of the staff were nice, but he was ( I think its also because he's northern) anyway whilst out we were dancing & drinking and ended up kissing, we made our way back to the hotel and went on to have the most awkward drunken sex ever. It was so incredibly teenagerish it was like a sex scene from the inbetweeners, so bad the following day I did ponder the thought that I may have just taken his virginity! As time went on we hung out together a little bit and one night after a few drinks we got chatting, it became obvious that he thought that night had gone well and he’d put in a good performance, this scared me more than spiders!
And on occasions things happen which can only be described as ugly:
He pissed in my bed. A guy who was holidaying in the resort I pulled midweek came for a cheeky stay in my staff accommodation on his last night. We’d chilled out together over the week had some good, good sex and as it was his last night he wanted to see me for one last time. Obviously because this is how life works, I was on a breakfast shift the next morning so couldn’t go and stay at his hotel so risking everything & breaking all the rules I snuck him into the staff accommodation and he stayed the night. I should probably mention at this point we were both quite very drunk, we had some more good sex and fell asleep cramped up in my single bed. At some point in the middle of the night I woke up with a feeling of something warm washing over me… He was pissing in my bed, I kid you not! Naturally, as I was brought up to avoid all awkward situations, I moved on to the floor with a dry blanket. When my alarm went off the next morning I got showered, went to work and unsurprisingly returned to find the holidaymaker had done what I imagine was a very embarrassed runner needless to say we didn’t speak again.
There was also a guy who was in communal staff accommodation who had a deal with his room mates that the shouted Yabadabadooo!!! as they came... im not joking... he was a really good fuck too but that was a bit weird!haha!
So as a bit of a rest someone else has written the following post. She emailed it to me after a twitter discussion about whether it was possible to have really good, earth shattering sex as a Seasonaire. Or if it is always just a bit awkward and not really worth the grief you get from everyone else the next day. Interesting debate and feel free to have your own input. So in answer to my question I had a rather impassioned reply I just had to share. I have done a slight bit of editing to remove names, places and job titles!!! She's a brave girl!
Sex and the Seasonaire: Is it possible to have good sex on season? Of course it is, but as always there’s going to be some good, some bad & some which can only be described as UGLY!
As my hotel’s ‘Cock Jockey’ of the season I feel I have valid input! Let’s start with the good;
When I set off on season I vowed to remain single, but never did I vow to stay celibate, I know myself too well to make such statements! When I arrived at Geneva airport ready for management training I was nervous, but when I saw the guy holding the clipboard the nerves kind of dissolved I looked at him and simply thought, ‘well, we’re going to have sex!’ its like a sixth sense which pops up every now and then. After a week of gentle flirting and some quantity of rum I found myself in this guy’s room, we were supposed to be topping our drinks up and heading back downstairs to the bar, we both knew it wasn’t really going to happen. We had the most hip shattering session, the kind of thing most people only actually think happen in the movies, we barely slept and hit my record of 6 times a night ;) I set off on the walk of shame the next days with a bruised spine & carpet burns on my feet that scarred! I rarely have one night stands, and this was not that kind of occasion, we continued having fabulous sex until said guy disappeared over the mountain for his season. Leaving me with a smile on my face everytime I look at my feet!
If only it was always so good;
Every now and then we would set off out and I would have one goal; to pull. Girls have needs and occasionally they just have to be met otherwise getting laid turns into a huge distraction/preoccupation. Anyway one night at somepoint over the season we set off out and I knew it was one of those nights, everyone from the hotel was out and I had the following day off. There was a guy in our staff who was slightly different from the others, the difference being he was nice. As assistant hotel manager, not many of the staff were nice, but he was ( I think its also because he's northern) anyway whilst out we were dancing & drinking and ended up kissing, we made our way back to the hotel and went on to have the most awkward drunken sex ever. It was so incredibly teenagerish it was like a sex scene from the inbetweeners, so bad the following day I did ponder the thought that I may have just taken his virginity! As time went on we hung out together a little bit and one night after a few drinks we got chatting, it became obvious that he thought that night had gone well and he’d put in a good performance, this scared me more than spiders!
And on occasions things happen which can only be described as ugly:
He pissed in my bed. A guy who was holidaying in the resort I pulled midweek came for a cheeky stay in my staff accommodation on his last night. We’d chilled out together over the week had some good, good sex and as it was his last night he wanted to see me for one last time. Obviously because this is how life works, I was on a breakfast shift the next morning so couldn’t go and stay at his hotel so risking everything & breaking all the rules I snuck him into the staff accommodation and he stayed the night. I should probably mention at this point we were both quite very drunk, we had some more good sex and fell asleep cramped up in my single bed. At some point in the middle of the night I woke up with a feeling of something warm washing over me… He was pissing in my bed, I kid you not! Naturally, as I was brought up to avoid all awkward situations, I moved on to the floor with a dry blanket. When my alarm went off the next morning I got showered, went to work and unsurprisingly returned to find the holidaymaker had done what I imagine was a very embarrassed runner needless to say we didn’t speak again.
There was also a guy who was in communal staff accommodation who had a deal with his room mates that the shouted Yabadabadooo!!! as they came... im not joking... he was a really good fuck too but that was a bit weird!haha!
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