Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Dominic F - I Need Somewhere To Melt Tonight
Dominic F - I Need Somewhere To Melt Tonight by Dominic Zero
I was going to write a whole load of stuff about this - my one and only completely solo effort - and then I thought, nah, fuck it. It is what it is. Semper Fi.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Sunday, October 02, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
The Unbearable Fatness Of Being
I seem to have recently achieved fatness. Or Higher Fatness. Don't get me wrong, I've always been on the big side, except maybe for those glory years between 1982 and 1985 when I was permanently speeding off my crust and was maybe eating once every four days or so. I looked fucking great back then, it's a crying shame no fucker told me.
And now I have achieved fatness.
Shit, even my hair's fat.
I haven't achieved a great deal in my life. Here's a few of my bonafide life achievements:
A letter from somebody very high up at BBC World Service thanking me for calming down studio guest Sir Ian McKellan because he was freaking fucking out at his less than satisfactory treatment at 0530. I guess it's not too much to ask to at least be given a chair. Let alone a fucking cup of tea. And it was a letter. With a proper biro written signature at the bottom. A paper letter in a paper fucking envelope with my fucking name written on it. None of this modern cyber shit.
A phone call at work from my boss Paul Raymond congratulating me on having told up and coming Brit director Neil Jordan to 'Fuck Off'' whilst he was demanding that I give him a phone. He was shooting Mona Lisa in the theatre I was working in and I was under orders to keep the phone free. Neil Jordan was Very Rude.
I was Very Rude back.
And now I have achieved fatness.
Shit, even my hair's fat.
I haven't achieved a great deal in my life. Here's a few of my bonafide life achievements:
A letter from somebody very high up at BBC World Service thanking me for calming down studio guest Sir Ian McKellan because he was freaking fucking out at his less than satisfactory treatment at 0530. I guess it's not too much to ask to at least be given a chair. Let alone a fucking cup of tea. And it was a letter. With a proper biro written signature at the bottom. A paper letter in a paper fucking envelope with my fucking name written on it. None of this modern cyber shit.
A phone call at work from my boss Paul Raymond congratulating me on having told up and coming Brit director Neil Jordan to 'Fuck Off'' whilst he was demanding that I give him a phone. He was shooting Mona Lisa in the theatre I was working in and I was under orders to keep the phone free. Neil Jordan was Very Rude.
I was Very Rude back.
The same day at the same place of work Bob Hoskins going and getting me a bacon sandwich.
Looking after Tom Verlaine's guitar while he did an interview.
Telling a director of a 12 hour OB that I could get a thirty piece orchestra off stage in forty seconds then doing it in 35 seconds.
Well, I suppose achievements are things you strive for, and I can't honestly say I spent years working towards Bob Hoskins going and getting me a bacon sandwich, but you know what I mean.If eating a large doner & chips then three Double Caramel Magnums is striving for fatness then that is exactly what I've been doing. So I've achieved fatness. I strived for it and now I've got it. I should be glad that I can't see my cock. And proud.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sunday, March 06, 2011
Saturday, March 05, 2011
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