Forget the B. This is the Ryan era.

Ryan Adams that is.

After reading a few reviews about Ryan Adam's new album 'Cold Roses', I have come to the conclusion that many people think he's an eclectic, unoriginal man-diva.

I disagree. So far I've only heard three songs from the album, and they are brilliant. It's relatively more evolved than Heartbreaker and Demolition, and just as good, if not better than Gold.

If you're waiting for Ryan Adams to settle down into one genre, then I think you'll be waiting a long time. I believe his changing
style and range are his calling. Similar in a way to the Thin White Duke; Ever changing, adapting and morphing.

Ryan Adam's new band The Cardinals suit him perfectly.

Song of the day: Cold Roses - Ryan Adams.

Blade Chicken.

It's a new movie I'm creating. Seriously, it's going to be awesome.

Like a cross between Chicken Run and Kill Bill.

Uma Thurman will be played by a fowl-mouthed hen assassin with a rapid fire egg laying vagina.

Actually no. Sadly I'm not making a movie.

The title 'Blade Chicken' comes from an incident that happened today.

I was doing a health and safety assignment with a person in my class. We had to make a meal plan for a family, for one day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. After deciding what was to be on the menu, we had to write down what the hazards of each meal would be.

My 'classmate' decided that we should do stew for dinner. I told her that it would be a good idea to make it a chicken stew, because of the salmonella risks. Therefore it would be quite easy and rather straightforward. This is the point where she turned to me and said "Oh yes, that's good, we can use blade steak"... "Blade steak? From a chicken?" I asked. She said "Yes".

Although I wasn't really surprised. Because five minutes earlier, she told me that her friend was paralysed by paralysis and that she had a large egg-shaped trauma on the back of her neck..

Meh. Song of the minute: Grey - Ani Difranco

Fiona Apple is my god.

This woman is my god.

Single-handedly, without a doubt, this woman means more to me than most would understand.

I can't possibly begin to explain the love, the appreciation and the shivers I get down the back of my neck whenever I listen to something as powerful as Never is a Promise, I Know and Oh, Well.

There are two Fiona's in my life. One whose voice I hear every day and the other whose voice I hear barely once a week. The first is Fiona Apple. The second is my mother.

Every morning without fail, I turn on my mp3 player, put the volume up to it's absolute maximum and march to my course listening to Red, Red, Red. My feet are in time to the music and my eyes are transfixed squarely on a dream world that only I can see. I care not that I walk at 50 paces an hour and that I'm 10 minutes late every morning. For I am happy.. Gloriously happy.

So Fiona, thank you. You make my ears and soul burn bright with an inexplicable flame.

Today is the day where it all begins.

So I've decided to follow in the footsteps of a billion other crazed internetters (It's my word, leave it alone, it has feelings) and start my very own blog.

I don't know what I will write in my blog, but I'm sure it will be equally, if not more mediocre/pointless/bland/a waste of bandwidth than everyone else's blog.

I am going to start looking for ways to gather minions.

*plots*

.... I got nothing. .. Seriously nothing.

Would it help if I told you about my day?

Well, first of all I got up at 7:56 am and went to the toilet.
Secondly, I put my face and clothes on and had what felt like 50 cigarettes in the space of 10 or so minutes.
Thirdly, I walked to my course, very slowly, very methodically, I walked over the frost in the central city park while turning around every four seconds to see my own footprints on the grass.

Riveting stuff.

Fourthly, I got to my course, unhooked my earring from my headphone and sat down.

Fifthly, there is no such word as fifthly.

From this point on, all I can remember is bits and bobs of blur, so it can't have been that fascinating.

After this, I made a blog. Then after this, I wrote in my blog about making a blog.

The end. The first post of my blog is over.

Now, get on the floor and praise me.. Suckers.

By the way, the picture is me. I tell some people that it's when I was six, others I tell them I was five. I do this mainly because I can't remember.