Fret not, nothing to do with the abomination that was once the Radio 1 Roadshow. (Is there still such a thing...I haven't listened to Radio 1 since I was 14, which is, ahem, twenty years ago, in the days of DLT and Simon 'Our Tune' Bates and other assorted shit. Do I have to mention Steve Wright In The Afternoon and "ooooh, Gary Davies"...damn, I have.) Anyway, this is a bit bitty, 'cause I've had a weird ole day, the detail of which I don't need to share, so I'll share other stuff 'cause it's worth sharing. I hope. To Krustyans in the US and elsewhere, you probably have no idea what that first couple of sentences was about, and I recommend that you keep it that way. Unless you want to take a summer tour of the market squares and piers of the UK. Wow-a-munga, what japes. "Live, from Burnham-On-Crouch...."
I had intended to come here this evening with all manner of profundities, but I left my notes somewhere else, and so you'll have to manage with this titbits...
Anyway, first up is a big thank you to my associate sonia-belle. I know 'her' site isn't to the taste of everyone, but I have to thank her for helping me clarify my thoughts on an issue of the day, and for being courteous about our disagreement...so good stuff. Similarly, the return of sweeteffay with some sharp stuff about the current farce that is Government here, and what is just a weird piccy has lightened an otherwise crappy couple of days...so more thank 'e kindly sir.
Purely in the interests of research, I signed up to this. In an expectation of something a bit more than just the kind of crude rubbish that no less a man than Alistair Campbell used to write for twat mags. But I was to be disappointed. Suffice to say, Anais Nin it ain't.
On the subject of dirty, I'm listening to 'Ladies and Gentlemen...the Grateful Dead'. Yeah, so what, I hear you say, there is nothing so boring as people who harp on about a band, and especially the GD. I just wanted to comment that 'I'm A King Bee' on said record is rude. Really Rude. Ruder than my book of Pirelli Calendar pictures. And that is rude.
Anyway, as the consolation prize of a glass of port leaves its sinister sediment behind to remind me that it is time for my pit, and I have a whole new day to look forward to; including a well-worked excuse to evade Meeting of the Month and the disappointment of the missing GT40 (mourn, mourn), and probably the fug of the tiny drop of port taking its evil vengeance; I take my leave of you, friends. Back soon for more ramblings.