1. Of all the bands/artists in your cd/record collection, which one do you own the most albums by?
I can't be bothered to count, but it's probably either Radiohead, or Belle & Sebastian if you include EPs.

2. What was the last song you listened to?
'Car Song' by Elastica

3. What’s in your record/cd player right now?
'The Hazards Of Love' by The Decemberists

4. What song would you say sums you up?
You're A Woman, I'm A Machine by DFA 1979
(Actually, I have no idea whatsoever. Although if anyone has written a song called 'Beardy Tubster', then let me know)

5. What’s your favorite local band?
Erm, from the ones that are knocking around Leeds at the moment I'll say Sky Larkin.

6. What was the last show you attended?
The last band I saw was unfortunately Cursive at Stag & Dagger, who sucked balls like nothing else. The Twilight Sad were on before that though, and they were brilliant, as ever.

7. What was the greatest show you’ve ever been to?
Either Soulwax at Rock City (Valentines Day, 2001) or The Arcade Fire in Manchester, circa spring 2005.

8. What’s the worst band you’ve ever seen in concert?
Glasvegas were pretty bad. Walked out two songs in.

9. What band do you love musically but hate the members of?
Oasis, but I imagine if I met Morrissey we wouldn't get along.

11. What show are you looking forward to?
Radiohead at Leeds

12. What is your favorite band shirt?
Ta da!. I'm delighted to discover it's limited edition too. This time next year, I'll be a millionaire.

13. What musician would you like to hang out with for a day?
Stephen Adams from The Broken Family Band.

14. What musician would you like to be in love with for a day?
Melissa Auf Der Maur. If she were president, she'd be Baberaham Lincoln.

15. Metal question: Jeans and Leather vs. Cracker Jack clothes?
Given that a Google for 'Cracker Jack clothes' brought up this this, I'm going to go with jeans and leather.

16. Sabbath or solo Ozzy?
Sabbath

17. Commodores or solo Lionel Ritchie?
Commodores. She's a breeek...house

18. Punk rock, hip hop or heavy metal?
Punk, but hip hop done well runs it very, very close.

19. Doesn’t Primus suck?
Yes, but I think you'll find it's 'Don't Primus suck?'

20. Name 4 flawless albums:
OK Computer by Radiohead
Funeral by The Arcade Fire
Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters by The Twilight Sad
Alligator by The National

I am fun at parties.

21. Did you know that filling out this survey makes you a music geek?
Breaking news

22. What was the greatest decade for music?
This one is pretty good

23. How many music-related videos/dvds do you own?
They're all the way downstairs

24. Do you like Journey?
Errr, no

25. Don’t try to pretend you don’t!
Oh OK

26. What is your favorite movie soundtrack?
Juno, or High Fidelity

27. What was your last musical ‘phase’ before you wised up?
Ah, the angry white boy phase. I was pissed off for no specific reason with my supportive, loving middle-class parents.

28. What’s the crappiest CD/record/etc. you’ve ever bought?
I bought the single of 'All For One' (I think it was called) by Sting, Bryan Adams and Rod Stewart for that Three Muskateers film. Yikes.

29. Do you prefer vinyl or CDs?
CDs

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It's been three weeks since my last post.

So, I was in Manchester at the weekend, and it was fantastic.

My friend hired a bit of a club we used to go to a lot for her birthday, and filled it with just about everyone I used to hang out with in 2005/6. Laughs were laughed, drinks were drunk, dances were danced. We all had a gay old time. Well, not gay in that way. Apart from Hayward and his boyfriend. They probably did some gay stuff.

Apart from two people (one was on his way back from France, the other was in Australia, so they had an excuse), everyone was there. I even saw a bunch of friends of the Australia friend, who I used to go out with every so often. On Sunday I saw some different friends, one of whom I hadn't seen in about two years.

Trouble is, while the night out and following day was uplifting, joyous and occasionally euphoric (really), the comedown was just around the corner.

On Monday I felt like I had spent the previous few days stuffing myself with the giddiest chemicals and was then bottoming out in a massive way. Ah it'll pass, I reasoned. It's just nostalgia kicking in. Back to normal life, back to the drudgery of the job I genuinely love. My usual sunny demeanour will return.

As it turns out....

I've been away for two years, and while I'm back in Manchester a couple of times a month and miss the place, and have always missed a couple of my closest friends who are there, it's never been that bad. I've felt homesick for the place, but life has gone on agreeably enough. I thought it would be the other way around, like it was when I left home to go to university. The first couple of times I went back I would be awfully homesick, but it would fade.

This time however, the nostalgia comedown has lasted. The yearning, and I can't think of a better word than yearning, to be back in Manchester with that group of friends again is almost overwhelming. It's completely the wrong way around.

The thing is, half of the people I was out with I haven't really kept in touch with, so I can't miss them all that much. And for at least a year of the two and a half I was in Manchester I had a reasonably shit time, due to the usual girl stuff.

I don't usually get nostalgic, and I don't romanticise things too much, and I absolutely know I'm romanticising this, but I still feel odd. That's the most frustrating thing - I rationally and logically know I'm holding this night up to be everything I miss about the place, but I know it's an idealised version of the truth.

Fuck. Any armchair psychologists out there that can give me a metaphorical slap round the chops would be greatly appreaciated. Maybe some sea air will sort me out.

But hey - it's not all bad news. I was just clearing out a drawer and found a hip flask with Jack Daniels in it. And let me tell you, it's going down very well.

I chuckled twice after reading a story in The Sun (I have to - it's for work) about a woman who was convicted for training her dog to have sex with her.

Firstly I chuckled at the story itself, once I'd finished dry-retching. Then I chuckled at the bit when the journo described the deviant in question as 'tubby', presumably to force home the point that she was an unsavoury character and making sure we put our sympathies in the right place. Because as we all know fatties are the greatest scourge of our society.

She's just trained her dog to fuck her while her husband (who was also accused of possessing child porn and filming up girls' skirts) watched - exactly who is going to think 'Well yeah, that's weird, but is she fat?'

'Idiots' I thought.

However, the last laugh was with the fourth estate after I read another story this morning (in The Times this time) reporting that papers have been released saying that Hitler had poor table manners.

Now, people talking while eating/eating with mouth open/eating noisily make me want to reach for the napalm. As such, I found myself getting itchy when I read about yer man picking his nose and biting his fingernails at the table.

'What a foul man' thought I. 'I wouldn't be able to have dinner with him - his lack of decorum would distract me.'

Of course, a split second later, the sensible, apparently anti-Nazi side of my brain kicked in and screamed 'Whoa there - cool your jets - it's Hitler. You know - he of the murder of 17million civilians fame. Employer of Josef Mengele. Proprietor of such establishments as Dachau and Auschwitz - remember? Is being a poor dinner party guest really the only obstacle to being bezzie mates with this dude?'

So the moral of the tale is - no matter how dumb you think some people are, the chances are I will outdo them, if only for a few seconds.

As a PS, I would like to state that in that dull, age old question of 'Who would be at your fantasy dinner party?', I would pick Hitler. Firstly to gain my own tiny bit of revenge on his by serving meat - and lots of it - but also it would amuse me greatly waiting for someone to, as they're passing round the bread, say 'So, this whole master race business...'