One for the laaaaaaaaaaadies.

So have I ever mentioned that I worked as a mobile DJ for a few years in my halcyon youf?

Not something one would boast about I guess - except that it was kind of fun in a ridiculously naff sort of way. I worked for this charmingly old skool bloke called Al who ran an outfit called 'All Star Entertainments'. He was a bit of a legend who used to wear white tux jackets when DJing and had a sideline managing country singers (and an Elvis impersonator - I shit you not) who recorded records in his garage. He paid well, had some kickarse stereo equipment and all the latest music. And he called every group of females he ever encountered 'ladies' (a term that makes me want to throttle anyone who says it...except Al...who somehow managed to be endearing while misogynising :).

And when I say 'DJing', we're not talking all of this fancy schmancy mixing and scratching, no sireee - in the days before itunes and mp3s (which, come to think of it, have probably rooted his business completely) we were using nothing but the sexiest combo of minidiscs (hot shit!) and CDs.

So I would rock on in to a random community hall, school hall, house, barn, pub etc etc, set up my sexy decks and get down to playing ... whatever the drunken bastards wanted. Which, in most cases, involved 'ring of fire', 'the gambler' (no 21st birthday or barmitzvah complete without it!), 'tub-thumping', 'blister in the sun' and probably some AC/DC in for good measure. I got VERY good at dealing with drunken requests for songs that go 'la la de laaaaaaaaaa or something', and other equally unforgettable tunes.

Memorable highlights of my mobile DJing career included the night when the clock struck 12, someone requested 'you can leave your hat on' by Joe Cocker and all men at the pub-based birthday bash got in a circle and took their clothes off. Nothing like a little visual horror to end a great night at work. Another, even less pleasant, version was the Indian bogan 21st where I had to send out an SOS for more metallica and was rewarded with having to play music for 2 strippers who did such a full-on strip (pulling strings of pearls out of..., getting the lucky birthday boy to lick whipped cream out of...) that I was pretty much operating the system blind for fear of being irrevocably scarred.

Sooner or later though, the fun had to come to an end. I finished my degree and ditched the mobile DJing career-path for something a little more morally bankrupt. But the habit of accepting random requests has stayed with me (somewhat opening myself up to hassles there). In fact, I rather enjoy it.

So, with no further ado, I am proudly presenting the latest Nigrish shot from our Nigerian correspondent Dr Steph (below), and an utterly random shot of Paris from Timothy Mark Arnold (above), who, not content with his last mention, is now demanding more space on my blog while refusing to make his own (for the record, there is no engrish/humour etc in the paris shot - just Tim showing off his nascent photoshop skills and me patiently humouring him).

And I must surely win the prize for the most tangential introduction ever.

Over and out :-)