Archive for the ‘Sean McGahey’ Category

2010 in review

Posted: January 5, 2011 in Sean McGahey

The stats helper monkeys at mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

Healthy blog!

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Fresher than ever.

Crunchy numbers

Featured image

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,700 times in 2010. That’s about 4 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 25 new posts, not bad for the first year! There were 7 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 4mb.

The busiest day of the year was September 6th with 124 views. The most popular post that day was [The Last Fluffer in La La Land]+[Dan Holloway].

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were,,,, and

Some visitors came searching, mostly for “thomas stolperer”, mcgahey underground, underground resistance, mcgahey resistance, and underground resistance mcgahey.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.


[The Last Fluffer in La La Land]+[Dan Holloway] September 2010
1 comment


[The Writer]+[UV Ray] November 2010


[billboard dreams]+[Andy Harrod] September 2010
1 comment


TEST BROADCAST…1-2-3-4 TEST 1-2-3-4 –

…whilst leaving the restaurant, somewhere near Battery Park, Zoe staggers off to the Selly Soak; I make my way towards the cemetery somewhere near a sixth form college to buy some dope. According to Joe a cemetery is the ideal place for a drug deal.

A peaceful and visually pleasing atmosphere

I’m waiting for Lloyd an ex-employee of the West Midlands anti-drug task force. Allegedly back in the 80s he led the task force that gained a bad name when it participated in the widely criticized drug raids in Handsworth. He miraculously escaped a prison sentence for shooting two students in a confrontation during a pre-dawn raid. The first kid he shot had no class drugs but had a concealed weapon.

Eventually he appears. He’s steely eyed & greasy looking. Don’t let his looks fool you; his father was a wealthy lap dancing club owner whose girlfriend, Lauren, dumped him after he lost his job to a recreational drug problem.

Feeling awkward I spark up a conversation.

“Have you any competition around here?”

Half stoned he replies, “Gangs can be a problem, they battle back and forth over their neighborhoods in an attempt to lay claim to larger and larger areas. A gang’s turf can be anything from a lousy alley behind a store to a graveyard. When they talk about controlling these areas, what they mean is controlling the narcotics sales in those areas.”

I thought a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would suffice.

“Have I seen you around college?”

“I’m the campus drug dealer; I combine studies with the lucrative and at times dangerous job of supplying the vices of my fellow students, you see it’s a numbers game, the more street corners you control, the more transactions you can do. This results in turf wars, which are often the cause of drive-by shootings. Most of the guys you go up against somehow seem to get shot up to heck and back and they still survive, but the guy who drives around the street, sitting looking cool in his BMW gets hit by a stray round and that kills him. Luck of the draw I suppose.”

“So it’s all about luck, numbers and turf?”

“Yeah, luck, numbers and turf, at least 5 or 6 kids around here drink or buy some drugs on any given weekend. A number of their friends overdose on meth or ‘e’. A number of my top clients are those 18-year-old daddies’ girls on Valium, xanx, oxycontin and the classic methadone. Some kids can get a bit pushy.”

“What do you mean?”

“At any given moment they end up shooting at each other. I mean, one night I heard shots, then I heard one of them scream ‘I’ve been fucking it!’ so then of course I ran over and started immediately applying pressure.”

“So you tried to save a life.”

“Oh no! Not that kind of pressure, I told her she still owed me for some acid tabs, I helped myself to her purse and took what cash she had and threatened her for the extra £170. By one account, on that night 12 to 15 shots were fired. Fortunately only that one teen was hit. There were numerous eye witnesses to the shooting but they were all either armed or loaded up on crack, so you can understand why they didn’t volunteer any information.”

“So do you have people working for you?”

“Dealers can sell the drugs themselves, or they can hire local dealers and the carry out transactions on the main dealers’ street corners.”

“Who do you work for?”

“Fuck off man! I am the main dealer, people ask for my permission to sell on my corners, they come by every week and pay 70% of what they make. If they don’t like it or don’t pay well, we’d rough them up or clip ’em.”

“Why a grave yard?”

“I just like being in these weird, deathlike places, they’re kind of aesthetic looking and if in the event someone pulls a fast one, well, I’d simple ask where they’d like to be buried it pretty much freaks the fuck out of them.”

“Do you live around here?”

“I usually sleep in the car, I don’t sleep or eat all that well, now can we end this fucking interrogation? I mean, just because you know a few people I’m not telling you anymore shit.”

I’ve got my stash and heading towards the Soak. It’s one of those student haunts, where gaining entrance requires at least a bad haircut. Tonight it’s featuring a new band called Spastic Sound Wave a house/techno group.

I’m sat with some people who I vaguely know; some guy called Dan is talking to me. “So it was only yesterday I heard that Sean spent the evening here at this pub going on about his dead girlfriend. In the early hours of this morning, which is like today, he was rushed to the Queen Elizabeth, he was pronounced dead at 2.30am, I mean how fucking bad is that!”

He has this frozen traumatized look on his face, waiting for a reply.

I mumble something along the lines of “Yeah, that’s pretty fucked up.”

The Dead Beat

Posted: November 15, 2010 in Anti-Fame, Cody James, Dan Holloway, Sean McGahey
Dead Beat ~ Cody James

Cody James


The Dead Beat, by Cody James

Available as an ebook for £2 NOW

Available as a paperback for £6 NOW

Available in a one-off hand-numbered edition with extra material for £6 from 1 November 2010. This will also entitle you to free entry to all eight cuts live events. For life. E-mail to reserve a copy.

Read the Reviews!

“the dialog combines the exhausted humor of a night that never ends with the polish that a truly first rate writer brings” (read the full review by Marc Horne)

The Dead Beat is pitch-perfect in its portrayal of the frenetic aimlessness of restless minds for whom the most pressing issues are getting the laundry done and fretting over ‘trying to decide what to do…gives a voice to the dead-beat generation and, in juxtaposing abhorrent lifestyles with poignant introspection, evokes sympathy for the human tragedy that lies within its blackest heart.” (read the full review on Bookrambler)

The Dead Beat is darkly beautiful. Buy it. Read it. Read it again.” (read the full review on Decoding Static)

‘dogma distemper’

….the only thing I’m feeling at this very minute is frustration! Frustration generated by the need…no wait…the compulsion to write a story that is hiding in the back of my mind…well… I have the title ‘dogma distemper’ by  blah blah blah…that’s it…that’s all I have for my novel.

My anti-hero drinks gastric juice laced with opium and smokes 20 B&H…and drives an old funeral hearse…wears black and loves jazz…fuck…this is turning into an offbeat  narrative  piece of bullshit..