Kind regards.

As the famous saying goes, "All bad things must come to an end". This testiment is so often proved true. Let's look at some examples. Adolf Hitler's reign of terror, rasicm, Busted's music career, Little Britain: Series 2, Mikkel Beck's football career (http://mikkelbeck.com/), Pol Pot, Sven-Goran Eriksson's role as England manager, Irene from Home and Away's alcoholism, XFL, the episode of 'Sam's Game' (you know, the sitcom starring Davina McCall) that I watched, every conversation that I have with John Baker, bottles of Reef, Euro 2000, any Good Charlotte album (I imagine), any Mark Henry match,Charlie Sheen's marriage to Denise Richards, the Whetus gig that i went to, Bridget Jones's Diary, John Cena promos, the dinner my mum cooked the other day, every Oxford/Cambridge Boat Race, my trip to Pittsburgh, ITV's 'The Premiership', the illeagalisation of buggery, Whitney Houston's 'I Will Always Love You' being at number 1 in the charts, tunnels with no lights, the hype over the Darkness, The Grapes of Wrath, this year's 6 Nations, issues of the NME, queues, and more. The point I'm making is that this blog, 'The Midnight Devil's U.S. Adventure' has mercifully reached it's conclusion. Finally.

So my trip has taken me here...


To my homestead. The Marshall residence. The Devil's Nest, as I may start inexplicably calling it. Back to the finer things in life like minty shampoo, cat litter, and playing against Hilly at online Minesweeper. Oh yea, also my mum has put me on her car insurance (comprehensively covered, car will be kept on the driveway, roughly 10000 miles a year, social, domestic and pleasure usage, two named drivers, £100 x/s, breakdown cover? 'No thanks', bugger, my sales percentage is gonna be so low this month, etc.) and the implications are that I could turn up on your doorstep at any second for a surprise visit. Bakes, don't get your hopes up.

So it seems apt to leave you with some final thoughts about my trip. It's gonna be like Jerry Springer, but better because there will be no fat ugly rednecks fighting. Hang on. that's not better at all. But alas, don't let me dictate to you exactly how you should feel about the whole dammed sordid blog. I'm not gonna presume myself to be arrogant enough to patronise you by telling you exactly how good/awful it was. However, these people are:

Akua Boamah (don't blame her, she's Zambian) - " been keeping up to date with the blog, some bits of which i have found extremely funny, others not"

Ana Garcia (don't blame her, she claims she's a little bit Spanish) - "I've found your stories suprisingly very delightful and somewhat entertaining"

Jon 'J20' Picken - "your posts remind me of my own private parts as they are stupidly long, dark in places and best enjoyed with a handful of nuts"

Nicole M.F. Sullivan - "This is some good shit...You are hilarious in a wickedly intelligent way"

Jessie Elliot-Brunning - "Freaking awesome (aka you)"

Alex 'AlexForce' Dimond - "Be better at doing America"

Simon Hill - "I only have to close my eyes and think of you to gain visual satisfaction"

Colin Shepherd - "Try and get out a bit"

James Hankins - "Yawn"

Anonymous - "cheap arse European kid with a bad attitude, bad teeth and bad sense of style"

Another Anonymous - "Your misfortune makes me so happy"

Another Simon Hill - "Fuck you divvy"

That pesky Anonymous guy again - "I remember when this blog was entertaining"

That pesky Simon Hill guy again - "Marsh, i'm so jealous of you"

My dad - "this is a most entertaining diatribe"

Dominic Hudson - "From what I can tell you have gone to the movie set where Independance Day was shot, met some black guy that used to be the bin man in Corro and have had some kind of statue made out of you"

David Baker - "Outstanding"

John 'Muscles' Baker - "Reading this is murder"

Rebecca Sherren Robinson - "I should know all this from your travel blog...but er, ...well i did read all the beginning ones"

Dooby Dooby Splat - "Maybe you'll take a trip to the morgue next time, it might be slightly more interesting"

I think the last comment says it all really. So all I need to say is...

Kind regards.

Adam 'the Midnight Devil' Marshall

"...The Subway she is a Porno; the Pavements they are a Mess..."

Interpol; Album 1 (Turn on the Bright Lights), Track 3 (NYC)

Any excuse to get in a dodgy Interpol lyric is an excuse that I like to take full advantage of. This opinion of New York City belongs to a Mr. Paul Banks of the aforementioned band. To a certain extent he speaks the truth with these words. The subway is very much like a porno; if you like the kind of porn where homeless men mumble incoherently, people with briefcases frown and sigh regularly, and there are trains. For some reason, I get the feeling that this would still be right up Jon Picken's street.

I went up the Empire State Building yesterday. It was one of those curious attractions where you have to pay too much money, then wait in line for literally about 83 minutes. After which you get to go up a lid (interpret that using your Fiddy Cent dictionary) and then look out from the top of the building for about 11 minutes which is just enough time to persuade a foreign couple to take a photo of you (as displayed below). Following this momentary pleasure, the next step is to wait in line for about another 24 minutes before returning to ground level. All very fun I'm sure.


Also, I wouldn't recommend my papa to go to the summit there. He's so hairy, the authorities may think that King Kong has returned. On the plus side, reasonably attractive and Oscar nominated actress, Naomi Watts, would be in love with him, so there is a silver lining to every deadly deadly cloud.

Money money money money.........Money. A little rendition of the O.J.s there for you to aptly announce that I went to the New York Stock Exchange on Wall Street (the road, not the film) as well. It reminded of those classic GCSE days learning about the roaring twenties, prohibition, buying on the margin, and subsequently how the U.S. economy and thusly much of the nation was left decrepit by the greed of two many big city fat cats. Yea...what a shame. It also reminded me of the delightful Mrs Liddle (No fun aloud!) and her ever smiling countenance. But enough of that, look at this:


Yes mum, that is a cigar in my mouth, and a fat/phat cigar at that. Your baby boy is all grown up and everything. Above is a picture of a man who is blatantly very inexperienced and uncomfortable at smoking cigars. It also left me stinking for the rest of the day, and I don't just mean with the stench of my regular foul odour. This was even more intense and suffocating. Oh well, at least it made me look hella cool. Am I right ladies? Yes, yes I am.

I caught a Broadway show yester evening. I treated myself to a viewing of Elton John's new big thing. I refer of course to his show 'Lestat' about vampires and the like. If I was asked which my favourite part was, I would say that I liked all of it.

And in other news I return to my native England on the morrow.

Kind regards.

Adam Marshall

Paradise Hostel

Hello again. Tis I, Adam 'the Midnight Devil' Marshall, with further news and views from the great city of New York...City. I'm sure that you are all very eager to see what new excitement I've been up to. And by 'all' of course I refer to my parents and Simon Hill. And I don't think my parents even bother any more. They have better things to do, like watch Emmerdale and complete Sudoku puzzles. And when you consider that my dad hates Emmerdale and mother dearest struggles to fathom the complexities of the secrets of Sudoku, you really get an idea of how mundane this blog is. Just you and me then Hill. It's just like this January all over again. If you're lucky I'll tell you the story of when Mr Owen told us in year 7 that by the time we finish school we'll all be carrying around computers in wheel barrows again. Crazy Welsh bastard.

So...New York continues to be kind to me. And one resident of that fair metropolis has been especially kind. He goes by several alternative identities; the Crunch 'n' Munch Guy, Dancin' Dave K, and Dave Kerpen are but a few. But fans of the hit Channel 5 reality T.V. show 'Paradise Hotel' will fondly remember him simply as Dave. And for those of you who don't remember him, allow me to jog your memory in the usual prescribed way...

The undoubted star of the show, Dave provided hours of quality entertainment as the thoroughly likeable, but oft fall guy on 'Paradise Hotel'. As viewers of the program we enjoyed him battle things out against the manly and slightly unstable (so it seemed) Toni, as well as being led on and then betrayed like Jesus himself by Charla, who, in my wayward analogy, I guess must be Judas. Wayward of course because Judas wasn't a waitress from Minnesota and Jesus didn't formerly sell a popcorn product at Boston Red Sox's Fenway Park. But the principle is basically the same.

Anyway, Dave told me all about his life pre and post Paradise. As well as about the plans for his upcoming marriage in July at a baseball park in front of 10,000. And it's all for free. Good luck sir. Good luck.

The description of such an encounter will leave a lot of you with only one complaint. The canny eyed of you will claim that I have therefore spelt the title of the post incorrectly. Not so my dear fellow(s). Because I have very deviously used the title space to get two points across. One, that I will be meeting a star from 'Paradise Hotel'. The other? To cement the idea that hostel that I am currently aboding within is something of a treasure. The staff literally know every guest's name They give me unlimited tea and toast on demand And best of all, one guy who works there is actually called Vance. How cool is that. Also, the owner lady is extremely pleasant. Plus she's German. How very singular, I'm sure.

I went to my very first baseball game on Saturday. Within moments of me entering the stadium I was told that due to the torrential rainfall outside, the game had been cancelled. But you can halt your cruel and savage laughter right there mister, because due to the remarkable amount of matches that baseball teams try to fit into one season, there was another game the very next day. And the ticket was only $2. And the seats were sweet. And the New York Mets (the home team, and beloved force of the Kerpenator as can be seen above) won. And I got to eat a hotdog, which, from the queer feeling in one's belly area the next day, was probably left over from Saturday's unused batch. D'oh. Oh yeah, baseball if nobody knows what that is:

Wife to Husband - "When you said we were looking at diamonds today, I wasn't expecting this"

Continuing the pursuit of seeing where some movies are filmed sometimes (See Silence of the Lambs, Shawshank Redemption, Home Alone 2:Lost in New York in previous posts if you can bear it), I took shelter from the snow the other day in the New York Public Library. It was just like box-office flop 'The Day After Tomorrow', except better because Jake Gyllenhaal wasn't camping things up, and Dennis Quaid wasn't there, and I didn't die a horrible painful death. Thumbs up all round I say.

Kind regards.

Adam Marshall

"...I love New York City, Oh yeah New York City..."

Andrew W.K.; Album 1 (I Get Wet), Track 6 (I Love NYC)

The question here is whether I'm simply quoting lyrics of a genius from yet another great song from his illustrious back catalogue, or if I actually do indeed feel such deep emotion for the aforementioned city. As always, we can look to t-shirts for the answer...


So it's true. The t-shirt has spoken. Apparantly I do indeed love New York City as if it were my own mother, father , two brothers and Heidi Klum all rolled in to one flagrant, bustling urban area. Do you wanna know what else I love:

That's correct; tall buildings. New York has loads of them, like more than twelve. New York City as an entity also feels the need to celebrate concepts and notions of optimism and hope (Idiots). For example...

I went to see a basketball game last evening at the world famous Madison Square Garden (which accrued most of its said fame when Jeff Hardy did a Swanton Bomb from the balcony on to Buh Buh Ray Dudley and two tables at Royal Rumble 2000). It was great fun as should be expected. Tied at 96 - 96, the Knicks and the Indiana Pacers went in to the last 5 seconds, and Jamal Crawford came up big with a jumper for the two and the win. Ball game Knicks! Top stuff.

The Knicks weren't as good as I've seen them before however. I think they were much better when they only had two players, Patrick Ewing and John Starks (who was there also and I got to see him and everything. I almost fainted), and sometimes when one player was doing really well the ball would set on fire and and burn the net and stuff. I'm doing 'NBA Jam' humour now, just sit back and enjoy it. I said enjoy it, dammit.

Also, sub-par rapper Fat Joe was in the crowd. Joy.


Kind regards.

Adam Marshall

Start spreading the news...

So I made my way oot of Canada eh (spot on imitation). And ended up here in New York City. It's almost too much excitement for one delightful man to take. I was so excited in fact that I required a sit down when I got here. "And where did you sit, Adam? I beg you...alas, no, I beseech you to tell me", I hear you cry. I sat here:


Well, I don't think I need explain exactly where this is, eh folks? I said 'eh folks?'. It is the instantly recognisable Tom's Restaurant which everybody reading this will know from popular U.S. comedy 'Seinfeld'. Ok, so none of you have ever seen Seinfeld. Not even James Hankins who creams himself at the very mention of Larry David's name. Oh, there he goes again.

The laughs didn't stop there. Next on the agenda was to go and see where John Lennon had his life prematurely taken at the hands of a gun and bullet. All very sad and all that, although I did see Paul McCartney having a bit of a giggle across the street. It's been over 25 years now Paul, just try forgetting it. Just across the way is a memorial garden as well. It's called Strawberry Fields. I wonder how they came up with that one.

Genuinely though, my first day in New York City was one where comedy was the common theme (today is not following that trend, if this blog entry is anything to go by). I took a trip to see the Plaza Hotel where Kevin, played by amusingly ruined human being Macaulay Culkin, stays in Home Alone 2: Lost in New York ("...and one of those little refrigerators you have to open with a key. Credit card? You got it"). For the amusement of those people familiar with the chief resident, or Derby yokels who can enjoy the name for other reasons, I also took a trip to...


I saw Donald Trump in the lobby and made him shine my shoes. Then I shaved off all of his silly hair and made him bark like a dog (in a similar way that Saskia did to Derek in Big Brother 6). Needless to say, nothing said in this paragragh is the truth.

As if the level of humour hadn't already reached its zenith, its pinacle if you prefer, I went to see a live recording of...

Again, many of you probably haven't seen this, but perhaps you've heard of mock-news program 'The Daily Show with Jon Stewart'. Well the Colbert Report is a spin off from that. And yes, that is my fairy soft hand on the left. Silky.

To make my time in New York even more authentic, I have chosen to lather myself in predominently native New York music. The trend that seems to recur is that of massive bigging up of the bands' home city. Check it: Interpol with the song 'NYC', Yeah Yeah Yeahs with 'Yeah! New York', the Strokes pitch in with 'New York City Cops', and the divine Andrew WK (don't ever for one moment think that I neglected that guy) scores big with 'I Love NYC'. And for those of you not familiar with Mr WK, see this please:

Don't ever forget him. Kind regards.

Adam Marshall

April Falls Day

I went to Niagara Falls. I spent a day there. It was in April. Puntastic. Literally.

The small city of Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada has everything.

Waterfalls


They named a road after a Futurama character, or, if you prefer, Alex 'Alex "AlexForce" Force' Dimond

Also, these guys turned up

Oh yea, and did I mention the waterfalls

In truth, Niagara Falls is pretty nasty I reckon. Horribly commercialised with bad 'Hollywood Wax Work' museums and the like. Even the falls themselves aren't massively impressive. I'm sure that Stuart Costen would concur that when you've seen one waterfall you've seen them all.

Oh well, on to the Big Apple next, and I am hugely pumped for it. Should be good. Should be good.

Kind regards.

Adam Marshall

BREAKING NEWS: Adam Marshall is Dead!

Erm...April Fool's Day. Ha ha. It's funny, right? Mum, please stop crying. Mum, please stop, don't worry, I'm not really dead. It was just an April Fool's Day ruse. Mum, mum. Oh dear. Baker, please stop laughing.

So yea, it's the 1st of April. The day where awful comedic wannabes amuse themselves, but unfortuneately not others, with 'hillarious' pranks. Also, it's the day where we say best wishes and kind regards to the biggest April Fool of them all, my bother Ben. The reason; it's his birthday today. Well done Ben.

Quick mundane details about me. I went to my first ice hockey game the other day. It was great. There were goals and fights and everything. It was just like Gaelic football, except my mate Quinny wasn't playing. The best thing about it though was the fact that the stadium that the Nashville Predators play in is called the Gaylord Entertainment Centre. It makes me laugh every time because I'm a horrible little man.

Also making me laugh was when we went into a shop and my sister-in-law said to my brother 'We need to get you some pants' at a highly audible level. I was in stitches. Pants, brilliant.

Off to Niagra Falls today - should be good - pretty area - wet - very (a quick Mr. Jingle from Dickens' 'The Pickwick Papers' impression for you there. Trust me, it's spot on).

Done.

Kind regards.

Adam Marshall