Flashback Fats: A hundred blinking goths


You know when you see an old photo of yourself and gasp at the horrendous mustard sweater you somehow once treasured?

A similar thing happens when I look at old blog posts. This blog has been going a long time - but I wish I could erase some old posts from history.

Actually, I could erase them. There's a button for that.

But it's more entertaining to rake over them in a new feature I call Flashback Fats. It might be some posts aren't so bad, but are still worth the bloggy equivalent of a DVD commentary. Let's start with my grand introduction to a damp squib...

Flashback Fats: A hundred blinking goths, Jabba goes J-Ho, and sodden notes drying on radiators (2008)

This May 2008 blog post was a way of talking about my biggest embarrassments without the pain of having to go into any detail. You can see the original, but I have included much of its text here in italics.
"There are many things I should have resisted. An invitation to Ara, Manchester's leading goth night. I arrive dressed in white. A hundred six-foot black and purple people, some of them dressed as crows, don sunglasses."
Indeed, my mate is still running that goth night. And yes, I did dress in white. Although I feel a natural connection with 'alternative' cultures, I'm not gothy. I might dress in black, but I'd happily live in a day-glo world in bright sunlight. If I was a vampire, I'd have been dust a long time ago.

I go on to mention a number of trivial disasters. The "record company showcase" where I spilled MC Tunes's pint did indeed feature All Saints a long time before they were packaged for final launch. And yes, I bought the Kooks album.
"What was I thinking? It makes me sick to even think of it. I gave the CD away in a tombola at my 33-and-a-third birthday bash."
That bash was nearly ten years ago. It was my 33 and a third birthday party, with all sorts of themes relating to thirds. We had a tombola with 33.33 prizes (the fractional prize being part of a chocolate bar).

"Getting my ears pierced in a strange attempt to cure a throbbing hangover." This was when I was trying to be trendy and Afflecks Palace-y. My traditional androgynophobic boss at the time nearly fired me.

"Sledging with £1,300 in my back pockets." Yep. Actually happened. A long line of £50 notes drying on radiators.
"There are many things I should have resisted. However, there is one thing I have resisted, but should have given in to quite some time ago. Yes. I am finally on Last FM."
And that's the point of that blog post. Didn't see that coming, did you. All those amazing anecdotes curtailed because I just wanted to tell people I was on Last FM.

What's next? Withholding the punchline of a joke until I've given you my MySpace URL? Dangling tasty sausages in your face as a lure to Snapchat? Bellydancing for Bebo?

I still have no idea why I bought that Kooks album.