GavinBelfast

Thoughts on Episode 25

Episode 25 of the World famous Gee & Jay Radio Show is finally online!
http://geeandjayshow.com/latest-episode

Really happy with episode 25, could be our best show ever.James’ audio was a bit lower for some reason, didn’t really matter too much though
Co-host was great on this one, and for a change I don’t think I talked all over him like I usually do.
Even more encouraging, the amount of swearing didn’t seem as bad as it has been.
We are improving, editing didn’t take anywhere near as long as it used to, and that’s not because I’m getting faster, it’s because there was less shit to cut out, just the usual lip smacks, coughs etc that can’t be avoided.
The songs we played were pretty rockin’ too all though I wish I’d had the time to get some local or non-mainstream music sorted, didn’t have time to listen to all the stuff we’ve gotten let alone do research and get plugs together.

Big shoutouts to the co-host and all those who’ve been supportive, given feedback, shared links, all that caper, it means a lot and makes it a lot more gratifying.

Synopsis
We were meant to do the show on Friday night but because of the traffic chaos caused by several bomb alerts I didn’t get home until late. Probably worked out for the best in hindsight.

Co-host James took the World Tour to the North West 200 Superbike races, and promptly ruined it for everyone, somehow, was bound to have been him.

Woes of the ginge. James’ wife was recently involved in a car accident (again, probably James’ fault). Credit to her for allowing James to come up and do the show, and for letting us have a drink and watch the Champions’ League Final in their house, I’m sure it isn’t easy for her and I was glad to hear James is being a great husband for a change.

James mentioned to me off-air that he was planning to get a tattoo of his Superbike hero Guy Martin. Not like a big portrait or anything, just the guy (pun) on his bike. Kinda of ripped him on the show for it, he didn’t like that, his reaction was funny as fuck thought.

I mentioned that we were looking for celebs to endorse us and do artist liners, obviously it was all tongue and cheek but if any of you happen to know someone famous, put in a good word.
While on the subject of liners, we’ll take them from anyone, aside from the fact it’s just cool to hear other people say our show name, we need more stuff to put into the breaks and for transitions. I love the ones Mark and Mazzler of The Bizz did for us (visitwww.thebizz.me.uk) but I’d love to have more options. Send stuff to geeandjayshow@live.co.uk

I discovered the outdoor adventure pursuit Planking while preparing for the show, I’ve yet to actually plank myself, I’m building up to it aka I need to be drunk before doing that.

Need to stop singing on the show, I know I’m bad and the only I leave it in is that I find it mindly amusing, can’t imagine anyone else feeling that way though.

In case anyone was concerned, I didn’t actually kill my dog, just yelled at him because he was gurning while we were doing the show. I was surprised the mics didn’t pick it up, and fair play to James for being all professional while I did it.

I do have personality disorders, self-diagnosed or not, I had ADHD before it was even a thing, as always, I was ahead of the trends.

Welcome to the end of this blog, thank you for reading, if you don’t already, please listen to my podcast The Gee And Jay Radio Show http://geeandjayshow.com
Feedback is always appreciated, sharing the show helps a lot too.

Best of luck, Gavin.

Thinking out loud and not making with Gavin of the Gee And Jay Radio Show.

We’ve mentioned it on the show, there have been times when I wanted to end the show, because we didn’t have any listeners, that isn’t the case now, we’re at the stage where we have a small core of loyal listeners, I’m very happy that we’ve managed that, for me, that’s pretty fuckin’ cool and does make the work I put into the show very much worthwhile.

There’s a lot I want to do with the show, growth is a major goal, it’s not about money, I work a full-time job and even though the pay is poor, it keeps a roof over my families head. No, I want more listeners because, as I said, it’s cool to have fans, to know that there are actual people who want to hear what I (and James) have to say. That’s not something I’ve ever had, apart from my childhood friends, I don’t think the people I’ve socialised with have thought “I really hope Gavin shows up soon”, I don’t know if that’s down to me as a person or the people I choose to be around. I do know that I spent 5 years with the same group of people and for 4 of those years I wandered why I was there, I knew for a fact I wouldn’t be missed if I wasn’t there. So I guess I crave acceptance, who doesn’t? I have a need for people to need me, I’m happiest when I’m with my wife and my daughter so I’m assuming I just want more of that, talk about being needy.

Abrupt end… Best of luck, Gavin.

(Source: geeandjayshow.com)

I’ve been going to Linfield matches most of my life, I recall a few years where watching the Saturday afternoon wrestling show seemed more important though.
Some of my earliest memories are from Windsor Park and for someone with such a bad memory, I remember certain aspects very clearly.

I can still remember when the South Stand was two seperate stands, don’t think I was ever in the old part, (Balmoral Stand?), was cordened off at the time, I can remember the back of it for some reason, there was a set of concrete steps that led to a sort of pavillion that led to the seats and toilets, think that’s right.
I remember thinking it was really good being small cus I could near enough run under people instead of stand in queues to get in and out.

I remember when Windsor was still getting good crowds, the place felt packed, depending on who we were playing they’d sometimes open the Spion Kop to us, that was cool looking back now.

Under ya go!
Everyone has this one… Your da would make you crawl under the turnstile, or at away matches you’d be sent off to find a wall to climb over, if you couldn’t climb, tough, learn how to climb fatty.
As we got older we were forced to smuggle tins of beer into grounds, I think there was a few bottles of vodka stuffed into my keks too.


The GFC Matchball…
Love this one. Me and a current Linfield player retrieved a matchball off the roof of the Glenavon social club during a match and kept it. Fuckin amazing ball, proper Umbro job, worth about £60 in them days, heavy a fuck, lasted for years. We got a few others down the years, Ballyclare was a gift, Carrick too, I think we nabbed one from Omagh as well. Near got a crackin Mitre ball at Ballyskeagh but for two wee fuckers touting on me to the peelers, bet them bastards kept it too, black bastards!


The Distillery Corner Flags…
The day David Beckham scored that goal from the halfway line against Wimbledon, Linfield were playing Distillery (before they realised Lisburn was beside them) at Ballyskeagh, fuck knows what the score of our match was, was one of them “can’t be bothered” early season Ulster Cup group matches, anyway, as thieving wee fuckers from the Glencairn do, we decided, know what’d make good goal posts? Thon big corner flags. How good is that logic, really? So we wait to just before fulltime, mount the fence around the pitch and dog track, fulltime whistle blows, everyone starts leaving, we drop down onto the dog track like a coupole of fuckin ninjas and in broad daylight proceed to remove the corner flags, poles and the wee bit of material with “DFC” on it.


Don’t smoke blow and drink on the way to Coleraine when you’re 15…
Our wee supporters club was great, mostly cus my da and uncle ran most of it. We’d get at least a minibus for EVERY match apart from European away games.
This meant if we happened to be playing Coleraine on a Tuesday night in December, we’d be there, and we’d be drunk and more than likely stoned to the dick. When you’re 15, this probably isn’t a good thing. Again can’t remember any match details, we might’ve won 2-1, not sure.
The important thing is, when I returned from the burger van with food for the troops, I handed a burger over to my uncle and promptly vomited all over the place, really loud and really noticable, so noticable that the Coleraine supporters at the other end of the ground fuckin’ cheered at it! Needless to say, school the next day was pure hell.


The Forrest Gump of Portadown….
For some reason the Linfield supporters buses would get bricked while leaving Portadown after matches at Shamrock Park so one time we decided to make the bus driver stop so we could get out and chase the bastards that were doing it. This the same time I’d really fucked my ankle up playing football so I was walking with a serious limp. So the Glencairn/Ballysillan Linfield Supporters Club mobilize, chasing the fuckers through a load of trees beside some estate, full Vietnam style. I wasn’t missing this show so I go too, only limping like a fucker. The brickers are gone so we all head back to the bus but because of my gimped ankle I’m last back, coming out of the trees hobbling, panting and sweating, Maxie’s waiting at the door of the bus and shouts “Hurry the fuck up Forrest Gump!”…. Bastard!


Clifton Street Ambush….
Used to get bricked passing Clifton Street, you can see where this is going. Not me this time thankfully. Again, the bus stops, empties, the rats scatter, where’s Maxie? Chasing after 2 of the wee fuckers down an entry, 20 seconds later he reappears and fuck, I’ve never seen the man move so fast in all my life, 10 or 15 dirtbags appear about 10 meters behind him, fully ambushed Bob, fully.

There’s tons more of these memories, stuff I either can’t remember clearly enough or stuff where it’s probably better I don’t post.

The “Oh fuck, I’m an old man” blog…


Who exactly decided that you can’t hit children? The UK government or the EU? Doesn’t really matter I guess, would just like to know.

I’m somewhat conflicted about this subject, let’s see where I go here…

I would never endorse the beating of kids, that’s wrong, children are defenceless, we should protect them, no doubt. The thought of hitting my own daughter, even a slight smack on the arse, doesn’t sit well with me. I was subject to such treatment and I know it’s the cause of a lot of resentment and hostility in me. I’m not one for repeating the mistakes of others, or least I try my hardest not to be.

Looking at the bigger picture, for centuries, adults hit children, as punishment mostly, there’s always a few sick bastards. You’d hit a child when they do something wrong, if the child has any sense they won’t do it again, that’s called disciplining, you don’t want them doing that thing, and they don’t want to get hit again, as long as the parent wasn’t a sick bastard, the child would pretty much respect the parent or at least behave for them. Respect through fear I guess.

Typing it out, it sounds bad, the problem is, and where my conflict is, is that for centuries, this practice worked…

People were taught respect the hard way, people respected other people, people respected what was around them and people knew how to behave in society.

Can that really be said now? In my opinion, no, it can’t.
People these days have no respect and are often quite oblivious to what’s going on around them. I see more and more that people don’t know how to behave in society, and don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty guilty of this too, you’ll know that if you’ve met me, but I think how I behave is more a reaction, or possibly just conformity, to society in general.

Back to the point (if I end up making one).
Is it better to have the ability to physically discipline your child?
I know when I was young, if there adults around, even strangers, I’d behave, mostly. Because there was a good chance I’d get cuffed round the head if I didn’t. Children don’t face that now…

What, you’re putting me on the naughty step? Oh, I’ve to stay in my room have I? I’m NOT getting a brand new mobile? I can’t have £100 for a pair of trainers?

Not quite the same is it?

In school, what’s the worst punishment? Suspension? Expulsion? OK, then the parents probably go to the European Court of Human Rights (or a newspaper) and get them reinstated because it’s not right that their little angel is being denied an education (make sure to blame ADHD too). Nevermind that the wee brat battered a teacher round the head with a chair.
Years ago, and thankfully I missed it, if you misbehaved in school, you’d get caned or the teacher would just whack you. “You do that again Maxwell and I’ll crack your head open!”, “Ok Sir, sorry Sir”, you can see how that works, respect through fear (and probably sadism).
Again, you’ll get the sick fuckers abusing it but it worked, people were better educated in the past because all you were allowed to do in school was learn!


I’m not blaming societies downfall on not being able to hit kids, there are far bigger and scarier reasons for that, it just seems to me that there’s an interesting parallel.
I’m still very unsure of my own views on this subject, this blog is more or less me thinking out loud, debating with myself in public. I’d be interested to hear if anyone agrees or disagrees with me here, or if anyone could add anything to this or would like to slap me (ironically) for writing this.

Why do I like wrestling?

Well at the moment I don’t, really, the product is, for the most part unappealing to me. It’s not targeted at me, they’ve forsaken the older fans and went PG, fair enough, that’s where the money is. However, I’ll watch old matches/shows, mid-late 90’s through to early 2000’s, why? That’s what I watched when I was growing up, I have fond memories of wrestlers/matches/storylines/shows from that time, the old nostalgia, can’t beat it.

Another reason is that, unlike today’s wrestling, the stuff from 10/15 years ago was pretty much targeted at me and people like me, it was designed to appeal to me. It was written so I would relate to it, so I’d form an emotional connection, so I’d pay 30 odd pound to see my favourite wrestler win/get revenge/return etc, live on Pay Per View or pay inflated prices for their merchandise. And it worked so well.

Wrestlemania 17, April 1st 2001. Stone Cold Steve Austin Vs The Rock in the main event.

This was a big deal, Austin, the guy we all wished (and thought) we could be, versus The Rock, the guy we knew we’d never be, the good looking, rich, cocky, successful big bastard who got to the top by being a cunt (this is in storyline of course). So guess who I want to win… 3:16 all the way.

April 2nd 2001, that was my brother Dane’s 5th birthday, my ma throw a party, all the usual shit. My mate Scott recorded Wrestlemania the previous night, we got the tape at about 2pm and that was that, fuck the party, me and Dane were watching this no matter what, I’d have stabbed you in the neck with a blunt pencil if you tried to stop me, that’s how much it meant.

The buildup to the event was brilliant, so well done. The awesome Rock/Austin back and forths, the amazing video packages, fuckin “My Way” by Limp Bizkit as the theme, the entire card, for the most part were matches you wanted to see.

If we’d had cable I’d have had no problem paying to see it, fuck, I’d have payed double.

Now this is how it’s done, take Austin, the biggest thing in wrestling since Hogan, loved by all, and make him cheat, and not only cheat, but cheat with the help of his worst enemy and the most hated man in wrestling, Vince McMahon. I wanted to buy a gun, go to Texas and shoot Austin in the fuckin’ head.

And how good is that? I knew it was fake, yet I was willing to kill a man, yeah, kill him, for doing something that was scripted, in a scripted sport, for something that in no way would ever effect me. That’s fuckin’ brilliant!

I’d formed such an emotional connection, invested so much into the Austin character that when he turned and alligned himself with McMahon, I really felt betrayed, I was truely outraged, how dare that bald bastard do that. And so, you’re now willing to pay to see someone kick the everlasting shit out of Steve Austin.

Again, I’m obviously reading too much into this, but looking back… It’s powerful, and a big reason why I’m a wrestling fan.

Trails and tribulations with my sweet iPhone last week…

Hadn’t had a chance to buy zippo lighter fluid so I’d been using matches to light my crafty smokes.

Monday night, struck a match with the same hand I was holding my iPhone with.

It hit the deck screen down, fuck! I picks it up, all white with some random lines, it be fucked, I’m not happy.

Go into living room to get Donna’s phone so I can ring my own (need my phone for work), hit the lightswitch, pop, all the downstairs electrics go…. Fuck!

Find Donna’s phone in the darkness, use it to shine some light into the fuse box, dropped Donna’s phone into the guts of the fuse box cupboard… Fuck!

Manage to get downstairs electric going apart from the lights, no spare fuses.

Do a bit of investigating online for a solution to the iPhone issue, lookin’ like it’ll cost me £120 and a trip to Ballyclare…. Fuck!

To bed, I’m near numb, I feel empty, a fuckin’ mobile phone has made me feel like this, that thought annoys me even more.

Tuesday! My day off for the week, or not. Had promised work I’d sort something in a nearby shop first thing, no problem, except I reset a server that didn’t need to be reset and the fuckin’ RAM fails… Fuck!

Go to head office for spare RAM boards, takes an hour in the shitty Belfast traffic.

Leave head office with RAM, but without my PC toolkit, which I need to fit the fuckin RAM, don’t realise I forgot tools until I’m in the city centre… Fuck!

To Argos, new toolkit please, sure I’ve money to burn!

To shop, replace RAM, get the fuck out of there. To the AppleStore!

Thought I’d call in, chance my arm. The fella was pretty good, listened, sympathised, advised, £80 for new screen…. Fuck! But better than £120 Fuck!

Ok, I have £85 on me that I really can’t afford to part with, maybe I’m visit the O2 Shop, try for an upgrade.

Sorry, you’ll have to buy out the remaining year that’s on your contract… Fuck! That wee bastard near got punched, legit.

Back to AppleStore, shit needs to be fixed, take my phone, fix it and I will pay… Fuck!

Wait 15 minutes just to speak with the same fella (didn’t want to re-explain it), he takes it away, reappears 3 minutes later, hands me my sweet iPhone, fully functional, and tells me to be on my way (didn’t word it like that, would’ve been sweet though), brand new screen, free of charge, from the fuckin AppleStore of all places… Un-est-Fuck! EVER!

Was reading about the latest oil platform explosion in the Gulf of Meh-he-co (that’s Mexico people) on the bus earlier, and I thought, a big fire in the middle of the ocean/gulf, bet you could get some awesome photos there, sunset would be amazing wouldn’t it?

What a dumb thing that is. It’d be like photographing a pile of vomit, or worse, a battle in a war. You might have the right levels, exposure, time of day etc, but it’s still an awful, disgusting thing.

A snap of an atomic blast? Oh that’d be one to keep! Nah, that’d be one to fuckin cry over. Humans are so great that we designed something capable of literally atomizing everything in a 2 mile radius. Make sure to take a sweet pic of the aftermath!

Don’t know what the point of this is, fuck it…

END!