Once again, the hallowed medium of FanFiction proudly submits another triumphant submission to this derelict web museum that we call 20JFG. As everybody knows, TV’s silky smooth post-feminist essay ‘Sex and The City’ was enjoyed by women all over the world. However, a recent 20JFG survey uncovered that – contrary to official viewing figures – the biggest demographic  to watch the show was actually men in their late thirties to early forties, trying desperately to claw some insight into the female mind.

Today’s writer, Colin Bradshaw is no exception. By day, Colin works as a scaffolder and is officially ‘one of the lads’, by night, he spends innumerable hours in front of the television, following every twist and turn of the Manhattan ladies’ romantic lives- and even writing some of his own.

And so today we lovingly present to you a microscopic fraction of Colin’s self-produced Sex and the City FanFiction collection in the form of his alternate final episode. Colin has never actually been to the states, and thus fleshes out his stories with the memories of American movies he bought at a B.O.G.O.F sale in HMV. Here’s Colin! Just don’t tell his mates about this, alright?

Do Men Dream of Electric Women?

by Colin Bradshaw aged 36

Carrie Bradshaw stood pensively at the bar of  a glamorous Manhattan nightclub, with the stunning insights into the female mind she was going to write this week flying around in her head. She decadently pulled a cigarette from her Chanel handbag, but just as she was about to light it, it was lit for her by an impressive gold lighter held in a mysteriously hunky hand. “Can I get you a drink?”, said the owner of the hand. She thought she’d pass, but realising she wouldn’t be able to finish her column this week without sleeping with a mysterious stranger, she duly accepted.

The mysterious stranger had a kind of public service demeanor to him. A fireman maybe? Perhaps a Cop? No, a cop couldn’t afford to drink in Pistachio’s nightclub on his salary. The mysterious stranger just became even more mysterious. Carrie Bradshaw was intrigued, so she hoisted herself up onto the luxury chrome sculpture that was masquerading as a stool and they got talking.

After a few drinks, the conversation turned to the subject of where they grew up. Carrie had a most wonderful childhood and adored talking about her memories in great detail “I remember this one time, there was a spider living in a bush outside my window, orange body, green legs, I watched it build a web all summer, and one day there was a big egg in it. The egg hatched…”

The mysterious stranger interrupted “…the egg hatched and hundreds of baby spiders came out, and they ate her”. There was an awkward silence, then all of a sudden he pulled out a gun and aimed it squarely at her head “Ha! I knew it” he proclaimed, “Those aren’t your memories, they’re implants put there by the scriptwriters of Sex and the City to make you seem more human”. He cocked back his gun “You’re coming with me, replicant!”

Deeply stunned at this revelation, and also the fact she had a gun pointed at her head, Carrie Bradshaw fell into a semi-comatose state of shock. Her mind drifted off to the warm safety of her bedroom and her Wall Street Power Book G3 (TM). Drifting off further, she began to write…..

Do Men Dream of Electric Women?

by Carrie Bradshaw

Do men dream of Electric Women? That’s the third guy this week that thought I was a replicant. I thought this one was gonna be different, he told me he was an art dealer. But I shoulda known when he pulled out that Rosarch test he claimed was a lost work by Jackson Pollock.

Why are men so obsessed with female psychology? and what is it about us fictitious Manhattan women that makes them think we’re a bunch of one dimensional, synthetic human beings? Is it the way we dress or act? I mean, I might be an aspirationalist stereotype, but I most certainly am a not a robot. I have feelings just like anyone else.

Well anyway, because I didn’t end up hooking up with a mysterious stranger this week, I had to pad out the rest of my column with dummy text.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Donec quam felis, ultricies nec, pellentesque eu, pretium quis, sem. Nulla consequat massa quis enim. Donec pede justo, fringilla vel, aliquet nec, vulputate eget, arcu. In enim justo, rhoncus ut, imperdiet a, venenatis vitae, justo. Nullam dictum felis eu pede mollis pretium. Integer tincidunt. Cras dapibus. Vivamus elementum semper nisi.

The next day Carrie Bradshaw was sitting a glamorous Manhattan restaurant with her friends Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda. She was telling them about the incident with the mysterious stranger, and they all had a laugh. Oh, how they laughed! Carrie continued…

“……Like, my memories are most definitely real. Like, I remember this one time when I was 8, remember this one time when I was 8, remember this one time when I was 8, remember this one time when I was 8, remember this one time when I was 8…” all of a sudden, smoke started pouring from her ears. There was a sound not unlike an accident in a power station, and at once she keeled over onto the dining table, splashing delicate over-priced cucumber soup all over her awed friends. The credits rolled.

THE END

Colin Bradshaw has just been commissioned to write the screenplay for Sex and the City 3.

Legowelt requires no introduction, as the 5000 (slight exaggeration) people that turned up to his recent near-riotous block party show in Berlin will no doubt testify. However, should you require a primer into his fantastically scopic body of work, then you could do worse than visiting the dazzling alternate reality that is his website (still repping HTML 1.6, yo). Clearly, Legowelt is man after our own heart, scribing up elaborately embellished tales to accompany his infinite spoor of analogue gestures. His new EP out this on the most kindred L.I.E.S label comes replete with the following tale….

“In August 1990 an unemployed French nuclear physisist named André Gardes attempted a singlehanded invasion of Sark, armed with a semi automatic weapon. The night Gardes arrived he put up signs declaring his intention to take over the island the following day at noon. He was arrested while sitting on a bench, changing the gun’s magazine and waiting for noon to arrive, by the island’s volunteer constable”

We couldn’t put it any better than that, so we leave you today with the above public access footage that accompanies the track ‘Backwood Fantasies’ directed by house legend Marcus Mixx. Sorry, no mp3 for this one but here you are a mere 1 click away from putting the beauteous ‘Sark Island Acid’ into your ears, and here (plus here if you live in the states) are you a mere few clicks away from putting the whole EP onto your vinyl playback reproduction device.

Naka Naka might also require no introduction as we already tweeted about the most excellent video above some weeks back. The merchanside has since fallen into another one of our greasy palms, and this greasy palm liked it so much that it’s time for Naka Naka to make a full blog appearance

Naka Naka – Fantorama Drama Plus

Hailing from Mexico City, Naka Naka’s ’3rd world doom soundtracks’ are just the kind of deliriously inexplicable gear that we love. Here for you today, ‘Fantorama Drama Plus’ is an abrasive glam rock inversion where Mark Bolan wears his sequins on the inside of a burning heart. This is all of course counterpointed against the brightest of chords that offer some hope for the smoking ruin of a planet laid to waste by this utter steamroller of a track.

No release info, but we thoroughly suggest that you check out his soundcloud, featuring the smoother original of Fantoram Drama plus here.