Snake Belt Tony lives!!!

One thing that wears me out about The Modern Internet is that every time you order something, no matter what it is, you get mithered about it, so then you have to trawl through a load of bollocks just to locate the miniscule "Unsubscribe" link tucked away somewhere in the abyss. I just wanted to pick something up for the house; leave it out with your promotional e-mails and don't bother me about a review. By all means, give me delivery updates but beyond that, we're done here. However, on this occasion, Dunelm got in touch and I was in a mischievous mood, so 'ere we are: the dawn of Snake Belt Tony.

The review didn't turn up for a couple of days, so I was thinking "Cowards!!!" but fair play, switched my phone on this morning, noticed an e-mail and what would you know, they've published my facetious response, and on a Sunday too! Dunelm has done a Sunday Shitpost of their very own!




Granted, my original intention was scuppered a bit; I wanted to do it as an homage to Techmoan, the "This is a bus, it serves food" moment, but the minimum character count wouldn't allow it. Well, you can't have everything...

Also, in the interest of clarity, this is the kind of snake belt this fictional character is all about, these elasticated efforts with the metal hook in the middle. Personally, I really like the rainbow one, although the tartan one is quite fetching too.


And what kind of person is Snake Belt Tony? Well, I'd imagine he's most likely a stereotypical cockney geezer, maybe a gangster type or perhaps he just wishes that he was, but he's too chaotic and bumbling to pull it off. And of course, yes, he always wears a snake belt. This is very much the early stages of an idea, certainly nowhere near as well-realised as Joe Lycett's persona, Rhubarb Bikini, but these things take time.

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Further rambling

Twa Thousand Corbies

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Going to start this post with an illustration, because of this blog layout, posts lacking images tend to look a bit pants. The art here is by G. Howell-Baker. A while back, I was joking about gathering together as many versions of Twa Corbies as possible, and finally, here we are. This is going to be a continually evolving list, so if you know of a version that needs to be included, or if you've recorded one of your own, then by all means, let me know. You can put a comment here or e-mail me at looksinnocuousnenoughchaps [at] gmail [dot] com. Let's begin! 1.  Folly Bridge - My personal favourite, performed completely a capella with some beautiful, eerie harmonies. 2.  Hamish Imlach - A live version, and a very close second favourite. Hamish's distinctive voice works wonders here and we're treated to some elegant sitar as well. 3.  Ayreheart - This one features the lute and a passionate vocal performance, it's quite pleasant. 4.  The Corries - Quite a brisk and e...
'Ave a gander 'ere

Some thoughts regarding Silent Hill Downpour

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Getting up at 3am for work is never a recipe for focussed and cogent thought, but it does seem to result in getting down some rabbit holes. On this occasion, after feeling an overwhelming desire to know what A Lyke Wake Dirge would sound like done in the style of Pookiesnackenburger (for the record, Alisdair Reynolds' version is my personal favourite) and weighing up whether or not to pursue a change of setting in an absurdist comedy script-in-progress because it feels like a repurposed shipwreck might provide more fertile ground than a haunted theatre, I got to thinking about Silent Hill Downpour for a bit. This game gives me some very mixed feelings; overall, I'd come down on the side of being fond of it, there's definitely a lot to love here but there's a near-equal measure of things that are frustrating about it. I guess the one-word summary would be "undercooked". It's got a lot of potential, and the green shoots of some really interesting ideas, but...
'Ave a gander 'ere

Revisiting Crapston Villas (while actually sober)

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So recently, I played the Silent Hill 2 remake (really enjoyed it, a nicely done update of an old favourite) and while scrambling about in the flats, something emerged from the dusty caverns of long-buried memories: namely this stop-motion animated cat, lurking in the sallow light of a knackered hallway with blood dripping from his jaws. Quite the sight. Look upon him!!! To be honest, if it were a toss-up between the cat and Pyramid Head, yeah, I'd rather take me chances with the Traffic Cone Twat, thank you. So as it was, the only other things I could remember about Crapston Villas were an homage to that one King Crimson album, a scene involving a horrific-looking fish, there was a lot of gallows humour and the fact that I was howlingly drunk on questionable ale when I watched it (this was around 2013.) Incidentally, it seems to be a running theme with people that I've talked to over the years, whenever the topic of Newcastle Brown comes up, someone always has a story about...
'Ave a gander 'ere