2001-01-24 - 21:18:50

�Sometimes a man gets carried away�he feels like he should be having his fun...�

Mild excitement this afternoon with a call from someone claiming to be a record executive of a label I�d never heard of. He said he �liked the demo� and that he�d been playing it to his �radio pluggers� and �sent some MP3�s down to a happening station based in South Africa�. Me being the excitable young pup that I am, I�m having kittens (nice mixed animal metaphors there, cheers) on the other end of the line and immediately seeing world tours, limos and hotel rooms and sniffing coke of the bodies of minor international soap nymphettes. He said he wanted to put us on a compilation CD he was producing, to be released worldwide in April. This is fucking IT. Global markets, target audiences, shifting units (It�s funny how quickly I resign myself to sucking corporate genitalia). So, what do you need from me, I ask in my best I�m not-impressed voice. Oh, er, a photo of the band and��200.

Ker-ching. The penny, along with a major pocketful of other assorted small change, drops. Of course. It�s a scam. 15 bands. �200 each. He produces the CD and sends about 3 copies out to crappy music mags run by his �radio plugger� mates. I can think of several things they�re fit to be �plugging�, and unsigned bands ain�t one of them. I tell him to �put the details in the post� and skulk back to my shitty 4-track. No limos. No soap stars. Diet coke.

It�s a shit business.

�Much too blind to see the damage he�s done��

TV Adverts demystified:

Laxatives: �Take before you go to bed for predictable morning relief.� You won�t shit yourself in your sleep.

Trapped Wind pills: �Take after a meal for discrete relief without embarrassment.� You won�t make huge farting noises at the dinner table.

�Sometimes a man must awake to find he really has�no-one��

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