Miss Roberts’ Blog

The Cat is in the Box

Fri, 30 Apr 2010 18:52:15 +0100

"When" asked my sister on a day when we were actually talking, "are you going to stop messing around with these musician types and find yourself some proper people to be friends with?" Good question.
But I don't have a choice, exsisting as I do in this slightly inelegant symbiosis with the Rude Mechanicals. I, Miss Roberts, want to exist fully, want to be, to perform, to live, to stride onwards to marvelous worlds yet to be dreamt of - but I spend a huge amount of my time waiting for the Rude Mechanicals. Thats what I'm doing now, before I can organise the rest of my tomorrows I need to know what they want.
I wait.
tap, tap tap on the table top, hum de hum de hum. What do they wish? Anything?
Has the bassist Guy died of food poisoning? The delicate dumb blonde called off last rehearsal because of poisoning. Part of me suspects a conspiracy.
Has Lynda Beast disappeared with an old sea dog on a voyage of sex and debauchery?
Has android drummer Tommy G malfunctioned again?
Has Cos got done for sexual misconduct in railway stations (again)?
Has Tommy G murdered Cos, his hard drive so overwhelmed by the shear number of messages from Cos, that his system switches from inactive to red- terminate and he hunts down Cos coldly carrying out the programmed default response?
Or did I in fact make them all up?
I do wonder. See I can't be messing with Schrödinger's cat. When the cat is in the box there is no cat, there is just the memory of a cat in my head. When the Rude Mechanicals are not with me, there is only the memory of the Rude Mechanicals, and the less I see of them the less memory there is. And right now you, fine sexy reader of this blog, exist far more than anyone else as I am solely concerned with your reading of this. I imagine you, sumptuous creature, peering into the screen, but what are you thinking? I don't know what you're thinking! You don't think! ?

Miss R
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Wednesday’s Child

Fri, 12 Feb 2010 21:02:04 +0000

I was born on a Wednesday. It’s not fair. I don’t want to be full of woe. Somebody made a mistake, they didn’t ask me. There was a mix up in heaven. They got it wrong. They did! All of it. Life, loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it (Marvin)

The Cyclops & The Wilderbeest ALBUM LAUNCH - on vinyl

Mon, 1 Feb 2010 23:54:34 +0000

Well yes, last saturday was the Rude Mechanicals launch of our second album, this time on Exgratia Recordings (previously we’d been on Sexton Ming’s label RIM Records - these days Sexton is too busy being PHALLUSEY - God of rugby players and broken noses). It was a voluptuous night, lots of delicious types, hurrahing with great panache. I was brought chocolate brownie at the start, tequila at the finnish and lots of whiskey in between that kept being stolen by the goblins.
It looked like Lynda Beast had grown a rather fine beard, but on closer inspection it turned out to be Stanley Bad. The likeness is uncanny! He was latter found prancing around in a catholic school girl dress.

COOKIES....

Sun, 8 Nov 2009 22:20:08 +0000

The Rude Mechanicals did not show up for rehearsal. The Vet refuses to castrate them, so Miss Roberts tries temptation instead.

LAST Wednesday

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 17:19:36 +0100

Well, my musicians didn’t show up for a rehearsal, mumblings about flu lingered on the dusty windowsills of acceptable excuses but go largely unheard. I do not easily forgive such lack of obedience in my slaves.