Bad boys stick together never sad boys

I had occasion to be looking at a copy of the Independent on Sunday from 2006 (in an article by Johnny Davis) the other day, and I found an article about men and finishing schools. It had a list of ten things that "every gentleman should know", which I found rather intriguing. I wonder how many gentleman I actually know.

Here are the first five of the top ten.

1. Never bring wine to a dinner party; it presumes too much about your hosts tastes. Cheese or a nice mustard are more appropriate.

Hmmm, I have to say that if I were having a dinner party and a guy I had invited brought a jar of mustard, I would be thinking less "what a gentleman" and more "what a weirdo". Needless to say, my male friends should just continue bringing wine.

2. In the street, always walk on the road side of a lady.

Now, my dad always does this, so he will be pleased to know he is a gentleman. But, if I am walking with the road on my right, it just feels strange to have someone between me and the road. In fact, my dad and I quite often have a battle over this.

3. To make a strong impression, when shaking hands, touch the person lightly on the elbow. But never for more than three seconds.

This seems OK, but what's a guy to do? Count? Time it. It could all go horribly wrong all too easily.

4. Always stand when a lady enters a room.

Does any guy under the age of 60 still do this? I think I might find it a bit unnerving.

5. Keep your hair, nails and hands immaculately groomed at all times.

Well, I have to say, nice hair and nails are nice things to see in a guy, gentleman or not (although I am not averse to a spot of nail varnish, but not sure this counts). But immaculate hands? Does this mean bringing out the hand cream?

Next five, next posting.

And everyone's the same We look the same We talk the same

I read the other day that Kate Moss's 5-year old daughter loves the smell of petrol and that apparently it is one of those most preferred scents in the world. Now, I had always thought I was strange, because it is one of my favourite smells and has been since I was about 5 . Now I find out that I am not quite the radical free thinker that I thought I was.

Oh well. It still smells good.

This song's for you

I love spontaneous evenings. There I was, sat at home (after having dragged myself to the gym), watching a DVD, annoyed at having no internet access, when I get a text from friends saying that they were at a nearby pub to see The Dirty Royals, and why didn't I come along.

Why not indeed? Half an hour later, I am there, with a pint of the Czech Republic's finest in my hand. The band came on, and well, they were amazing. The describe themselves on their myspace page (http://www.myspace.com/dirtyroyals) as "a head-on collision between classic British Pop and gritty Punk on the Pacific Coast Highway". That summed the evening up pretty well. They exuded dirty energy and took the crowd along with them. There was even - wait for it - dancing, which is almost unheard of at Oxford gigs. And I got a song dedicated to me. OK, so my friends had the same thing happen to them when they saw them last week (a gig, to my chagrin, I chose not to attend because I was too tired. That'll teach me), but that isn't going to stop me enjoying the moment. They even asked my name, which surprised me so much that I almost forgot it. I nabbed a set list at the end so I could find out the name of my song - Back For More. Which is apt, as I will be, but who knows when. The drummer is from LA and is heading back there. He needs to come back soon.

My friends enjoyed it so much one of them removed his shoe. Rock and Roll.

Listen, do you want to know a secret, do you promise not to tell?

As I was walking home this evening, I overhead a man talking on his mobile and it was one of the best ever snippets of overheard conversations. Ever.

"I'm just going back to watch Newsnight. Cos people forget just how bad the Tories were".

Nuff said.

You count the bands, you cut your hair And someone saying you're a millionaire

Well as he said he would, my dad went to see The Duchess on Friday night. And it would appear to have been a success. In his words "it was good, excellent acting from that Ralph Fiennes. But that whats-her-name, Winslet is it? That's right, Keira Knightley, well even although she denied in the papers that she was, she wasn't half putting on the Lady Di look".

That's my dad's approach to film reviews. Cut straight to the chase, no messing about.

I've warned him not to go and see Pineapple Express.

And then we'll take it higher

I went to see Pineapple Express last night. I'd really been looking forward to it. And it was supremely funny in places. But I came away feeling just a little bit disappointed. This was probably mostly to do with the ending, which just seemed to go on and on (in much the same vein as Hot Fuzz, and I felt the same way about that). Seth Rogen and James Franco are as watchable as ever, but it just fell a little flat for me.

Rather excitingly I got to see the trailer for Quantum of Solace which was pretty exciting. But I have a gripe. It was way longer than it needed to be. They should tantalise and just show you little glimpses, especially with a Bond film where people are pretty much going to see it anyway; I mean, it's not that likely that the trailer will make someone who isn't interested in Bond films think "Oh, that actually looks quite good".

At least it wasn't too long. Some trailers practically show you the whole film. And the rule is the longer the trailer, the worse the film, At least in my experience.

Still, I can't wait to see it!

An elegant sir in a terylene shirt tonight

My dad goes to the cinema every Friday night with his best friend. They've been doing this for about the last 3 years or so, and since they live in a town with just one cinema, their choices are sometimes a bit limited. But this doesn't usually stop them from going to see something and so sometimes he goes to see things which he probably shouldn't have bothered with.

My dad is old school. He likes "a proper film". He doesn't like fantasy or anything far-fetched or something which couldn't really happen. He doesn't really believe in suspension of disbelief. Many a time I have tried to argue with him that once the rules of a particular world are established, so long as the story follows these rules, it is OK that "it couldn't really happen". But he's having none of it, His favourites are good cop movie or a western or maybe a gangster film - something a bit gritty. The worst time for him is the summer when all the blockbusters are on and stay on.

He's taken to phoning me and telling me what films are on, so that I can look them up and tell him whether he'll like them or not. It's not always easy to work out what he will like, but it is easy peasy to work out what he won't. When I call him over the weekend, I get a film review from him. Sometimes these are unintentionally hilarious, depending on what he has gone to see and whether it fits into any of the above categories.

Last week he went to see RocknRolla. His review is short and not so sweet. "It wasn't very good. In fact, I fell asleep again".

They are booking ahead for The Duchess this week. Watch this space.

It's getting kind of hard to believe things are going to get better

The day arrived! Yay! And it arrived 2 days early. Thanks to a preorder, I got my hands on the DVD of FSM a whole two days before it hit the shops. Which meant that every time I saw the ad on TV "Forgetting Sarah Marshall, out Monday", I felt the need to say "I don't think so" to the TV.

I've been fairly restrained. I've watched it once all the way through; the extras twice through and I'm now halfway through the commentary version (which is supremely funny and has reminded me how much I love listening to the commentaries of films that I love).

It hasn't disappointed. It's just a really fun, sweet, adorable film, with lots of laugh out loud moments and lots of slightly uncomfortable moments (uncomfortable in the sense that you've been there, or can imagine the horror of being there). It still amuses me that when I saw it in the cinema, it took me a good 20 minutes or so to recognise Paul Rudd (it seems patently obvious now of course).

And the film has also led me to discover some utter gems that I may not have had I not gone to see it, namely Freaks and Geeks and How I Met Your Mother.

And contrary to what more than one of my friends have been saying, I have not been wearing out the pause function. What do they take me for?

One day like this a year will see me right

I was delighted that Elbow won the Mercury Prize last night. As previously mentioned on here, they were one of my gig revelations of the year and they rocked the house at Latitude. The album is just great and they thoroughly deserve it. And what a cool speech. We all know that awards are subjective and perhaps don't mean much in the grander scheme of things. But they were genuinely chuffed to bits to win.

So it got me thinking about how many of the previous winning albums I actually own. It was more than I thought.

Screamadelica
Suede
Different Class
Franz Ferdinand
Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not
Myths of the Near Future
The Seldom Seen Kid

Hmmm, pretty indie, no?

Oh oh how you are my hero

9.53pm

So, I have finally been allowed to listen to the album. My "friends" who were previously so obsessed with watching Come Dine With Me graciously allowed me to put on the stereo. I do love my friends. A couple others joined us, and I nervously put the CD in the drawer. I can't remember the last time I was so excited by the prospect of an album.

And Oh! My! God! I was not disappointed. From the moment the swirling guitars began on Flowers and Football Tops, to the last strains of Ice Cream Van, the album is utter genius. I never really thought I would enjoy listening to someone singing in a broad Scots accent (having been utterly embarrassed by the Proclaimers), but James Allan manages to make it sexy and vital. We all sat in my small room with the volume turned up (one friend insisted on listening to the single Daddy's Gone first, out of sequence, "because I haven't heard it and people keep talking about it"), and marvelled at it. It sounds absolutely amazing... I'd heard pretty much most of it live and the sound is every bit as good.

I realise I am saying nothing at all that is insightful about this album, but there is no need to. All you need to know is that this is the best album I have heard for such a long time. You need to buy it.

That's all that needs to be said.

Here we, here we, here we f*****g go!

6pm

The day has finally arrived! I have the Glasvegas album in my hot little hands. And I went for the DVD limited edition as well.

But as my friends are round and are insisting on watching Come Dine With Me ("you can listen to it later"), the review will just have to wait.

Friends, eh?

Yummy yummy yummy I've got love in my tummy

As it is my birthday at the end of this month, and my good friend Phil is going to be out of the country AGAIN, he said he would take me to Jamie's Italian restaurant, which opened up a couple of months ago. It was under a reasonable amount of duress - he was sniffy about it ("he's not going to be there you know; it'll be bog standard Italian food; I'm not queuing up for hours with a load of tourists"), but since I wanted to go, he said he'd treat me as a birthday present.

So, in order to minimise our potential queuing time (you can't book unless you are a table of 10 or more), we went at the ridiculously early time of 6pm and were told we'd have a 15-20 minute wait. Fair enough - we sat at the bar with a beer and were seated at a table within 10 minutes. Phil was busy rating the decor, the staff, the menus, you name it - "so far so good, but let's see what the food's like".

Our starters came came "the best olives in the world, with tapenade and music bread" (how exciting!) and a basket of bread from "my bakery" (ie Jamie's). Good start. And then the mains - prawn linguini for my carnivorous dining companion, and sweetie shaped pasta stuffed with pumpkin in a rosemary sauce for me. Despite being slightly concerned about the size of my portion in comparison to his ("I've got loads, are you sure that's enough for you?"), he grudgingly had to admit that his dish was really rather good. Oh, the pain on his face was plain for all to see!!! Of course, he did want to enjoy it, but part of him wanted it not be that good. But he told the truth and shamed the devil and admitted that it was really rather good.

Me? Well, I thought it was great! Very good food, attentive yet unobsequious staff, relaxed atmosphere, eclectic music, nice view into the kitchen, and very reasonably priced. And a dining companion who ate his words as well as his linguini.

Tune in next time for the next installment of "Fiona and Phil do Oxford restaturants".