Filed under: Uncategorized
Tomorrow I am going to Ibiza. Late. Because I was, yet an-oh-my-God-how-is-it-possible?-Christ-hast-thou-for-fucking-saken-me?-nother time able to have a passport crisis.
This means that I will miss four days of frolicking on the sun-kissed golden beaches of that Balearic pleasure isle. Where, I’m sure, I would have met delightful Scandinavian sea nymphs for extensive cavorting. Or cavortage as the French don’t say. However, fate did not cast me in that role.
Until I am back (Sunday night) I will post no more. What to do? I hear you cry.
This is my advice. Slip into an e-smoking jacket, unwind amongst the archives, enjoying the delightful smell of musty old posts. All the while thinking up great ways of raising loads of MONEY!
Oooh, look at the pretty sky, man.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I don’t know how many of you know what a wiki is. I won’t assume you’re all geeky, geek, geekazoids, but if you are and you know, please don’t feel insulted as I explain.
I imagine many of you know about Wikipedia. It’s an online encyclopaedia which anyone can edit and add to.
Well, a Wiki is just a site that anyone can add to, edit and generally contribute on. The KCDR wiki is now operational so if there’s anything you want to put on it you can.
I thought it’d be nice to have some dedications up there. If you’re raising cash in the memory of someone, or if there’s someone you know who’s got fucking cancer now, then just write it up.
The password is: killcancer.
The instruction is: gocrazy.
“Red, you will go on my first whistle. Blue, you will go on my second whistle. 3, 2, 1.”
Ah, the joys of Gladiators. But enough of lycra-clad steroids houses, because it turns out quite a few ralliers are ready. Which is AMAZING. I think there are 15 cars that have committed.
That’s a minimum of £15 000 raised at a grand per car, and by the way I’ll be very disappointed if you guys all raise £250 on the nose. As my boss says, targets are signposts not destinations. On top of that I’m aiming to raise at least £3000 myself.
All I can say is a proud, humble and honoured ”Keep it up people. Keep it up.”
“Shadow. you will get kicked out for drugs. Warrior. you should get kicked out for hairspray.“
Filed under: Travel
You’re a talented, amazing, beautiful, intelligent person and have quickly grasped that the Kill Cancer Death Rally is a good idea. At the same time you’re practical and you ask ‘What do I do next?’.
The answer to that is : buy a ticket on the Eurotunnel on Thursday 28th September.
I think it’d be great if we could drive off from London in convoy, and it only takes an hour and a half to Folkestone. If we leave at six we should probably think about getting the eight o’clock Eurotunnel (which only costs £51).
Is this a good plan? Is six o’clock a good time for you to leave? What about rush hour? If anyone’s got any thoughts, post a comment below.
(Of course, you don’t have to limit those thoughts to travel arrangements but please stop short of rambling accounts of dreams. Unless it was a really cool involving him, her, plenty of this and one of these).
If you’ve got any fantastic ideas about what we should do, then please let me know. But not by email. Just go to the Kill Cancer Death Rally wiki here and you can drop your ideas right in.
Tell everyone about how you’ll decorate your car, the history of your chapter and everything else that you’re doing.
It’s really easy to use, and fun, too. The opposite of condoms, I suppose.
We need this man to come. His car is awesome:
“He wanted something unique for his 2000 VW Beetle. So he mounted a $270,000, 26,000-rpm, 1,350-horsepower, Navy-surplus helicopter jet turbine in the trunk…when he needs a boost, he just switches on an afterburner (which shoots an 8-foot-long flame out the back).”
Don’t let the fact that he is a Stanford Phd and car computer designer who spent four years making this thing safe to drive, put you off.
You too can build a ridiculous turbo-charged car.
Ideally you’ll be a photogenic group of friends in a tough spot. Maybe one of you has drive to quickly to get a girl? Maybe one of you is a girl that has to drive quickly to get the respect you deserve (whilst dressing up as a man and falling in love with your arrogant rival)?
Find a crap car, a mad engineer, liberally apply a montage and music. Hey presto, something like this bad boy, I’m sure.
Being told that your mother has died sticks in the mind. However, it is not something that I have played back especially often. There are parties and books, movies and feats of outstanding sporting endeavour that I hunt out from my cerebral cortex more regularly – if that is where you store memories.
One of the reasons for that, is because when I was told, I didn’t cry, and I could never understand this. I stood in between my sisters in my Aunt’s sitting room: brown carpet, my grandmother in a blue cardigan, all of us in Barnes.
We’d finished breakfast – you don’t want to unleash tragedies on kiddies with empty stomachs, after another night of oh-my-god-it-won’t-happen-will-it?
“I’m afraid this morning Mummy died”.
Everyone collapses in on each other, as though the air had been sucked out from between us. In a way it had been.
I’m there and I’m wondering “Why the hell am I not crying?”
Why didn’t I cry then when my throat’s choking up now on a train to Bristol, tears poking out of eyes?
Why did I not cry, and I sure as hell didn’t have an ‘I’m the man in the family now, there’s no room for tears’ moment?
Why? Why? Why?
And I think it’s because I just didn’t think Mummy could die. It was impossible. No way. Really it wouldn’t happen. When hearing “Only a miracle can save her now” it just meant that a miracle would fucking happen.
Unfortunately people do die, miracles are painfully unreliable and you can’t raise money for them.
You can, however, raise money for Cancer Research. You can come on the Kill Cancer Death Rally, celebrate life for four days and help make sure that those teary, tragic, enormous, little gatherings happen a lot less.
I try my hardest to conjour up the right level of sadness, pity, fun and fear to make sure that as many folks as possible join the KCDR. I attempt to communicate quite how much I want to raise money for Cancer Research UK. I call, mail and cajole to generate electricity about this kick-ass rally.
So I wonder whether this blog is the right forum for this gag but…….
Q: Why are cancer sufferers so good at skateboarding?
A: ‘Cos they’re so fuckin’ sick, dude.
Shall I tell you who else is good at skateboarding: Rodney Mullens.
Though he would be less good if he got cancer. So get giving.
I’ve mentioned before (here and here) why I’m doing this but, in case you’re new to the blog (and to you I say “Welcome! Have a crumpet.”), I’ll tell you again. When I was 11 my Mum died of cancer. It first came as breast cancer. This had the impertinence to come back a second time, but she rocked so much she beat it again.
Then she was given the all clear. And then she died. Drag.
You see cancer is a tricky little bitch, it makes like a gritty north-eastern football team in a relegation dogfight, and never knows when it’s beat. It came back, manifested itself in her liver and then chilled on out through her spine and her blood.
The problem is, not only does cancer suck, but the ‘medicine’ they use to treat it is rubbish. Chemotherapy is, essentially, as much poison as your body can handle without dying. Now, not only did my beautiful mother have cancer but all her hair fell out as she slowly died.
Which is where the sexy doctors at Cancer Research UK come in. They spend all their waking lives trying to kill cancer. In April 2003 they found out more about how cancer spreads (Link). The little evil bastard puts all it’s building materials at the part of the tumour moving forward, so that it spreads faster. What a shit.
But knowledge is power and these guys are learning how to Kill Cancer. Please come on the Kill Cancer Death Rally and raise lots of cash for these wonderful guys. Go to www.justgiving.com, follow the instructions and you can start raising money now.
All Just Giving sites will be linked to from this blog so send them in the moment you get them. Mine is here, please give generously.
