Thursday 26th January, 2023

I decided not to spend too long on Thursday morning focussing on the Forest fall out from the night before. We lost. Get over it. The briefest of brief scrolls through Forest Twitter and I was done. Come back stronger, etc.

Much easier was sending out eBay offers to buyers who are watching the tat I’m trying to flog. I dropped the prices by around 15%, fishing to see what was out there. The only bite I got was some due buying A Hard Day’s Night on cassette.

For the record, A Hard Day’s Night is not tat.

The buyer left some very specific instructions about what he expects next. I fear this trade isn’t going to end well.

The work rota for the next fortnight dropped. I’ve also got some time booked off during this period. I spent too long horse trading various shifts and trying to negotiate picking up extra work during the time I’ve got booked off.

I needed to get out. I felt a LONG run in my legs. I set out on the 10 mile route around Sunny Colch. I passed a unicyclist as I left Weird Wiv. Funny old town, etc. I had the latest Half Man Half Biscuit in my AirPods. They never fail to raise a smile.

It was tough going. I struggled for the first 2km. This wasn’t a good sign. I then hit my stride down at the Hythe and felt half decent.

I approached Castle Park.

PING!

Oh shit. That’s my right calf. No worries, Jase, let’s run through this. Two decades ago and my invincible body would have agreed. Not so as I approach my mid 50’s.

I reached the end of the Castle Park path and reluctantly had to call it quits. Conveniently there was a bus stop back to Weird Wiv right outside the park. Not so convenient was the half hour wait.

My leg is fucked. That’s my sporting plans for the next fortnight forgotten.

Waiting for me back at base was an email inviting me to take part in the Crystal Palace Triathlon in May. Injuries, aside, I’m half tempted. The price of £65 puts me off. I could complete my own S Ldn Tri if really wanted to.

We finally watched the Woodstock Trainwreck documentary on Netflix. Woh. That was some serious shit. We both accepted that our days of attending big music festivals are probably finished.

Wednesday 25th January, 2023

The first image I saw on my phone this morning was an Insta post of a stunning tattoo sleeve. Oooh. That looks pretty cool, I thought.

Hang on. That’s MY arm. That’s MY tattoo.

My charming tattoo artist has shared the work in progress to his Insta. I wasn’t so vain to refresh the post throughout the day and check on the likes and comments. Nope. Not me.

Sticking with a similar theme: The Postman Delivers: The Satanic Bible.

This was a recommendation from my charming tattoo artist. I may – or may not – have been SKY HIGH on inkfest love when he mentioned the book. I managed to pick up a cheapo copy for a flick through. You little Devil, you.

Album of the Day: Koffi Olomide – Haut de gamme / Koweït, rive gauche

I would have preferred more Congolese rhythms rather than the Western influences that appear to be stapled on to some of the tracks. The better moments are when the slick US soul production doesn’t feature. I’ve got limited knowledge or reference points. It’s probably best to take it for what it is: an uplifting album, not quite my thing, but still decent.

⭐ ⭐

Forest featured in the sports pages of the Morning Star. You know you have arrived in the big time when you get bigged up in Britain’s biggest daily Communist read.

“History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.”

Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Big Man. The Second Coming remains on track down at Trentside.

I missed out on a Joe Strummer Streetcore album. It’s a bloody brilliant and often forgotten about album; his final offering before Uncle Joe departed. I still wasn’t prepared to pay more than a fiver, mind.

Lunchtime led to another Weird Wiv run. There was light drizzle and the new Dry Cleaning album in the AirPods to keep me company for the 8km circuit.

“I’ve seen your arse but not your mouth
That’s normal now”

I really must get round to seeing Dry Cleaning live this year.

My left knee was a little knackered after the first km. I actually stopped to click it back in place, before pressing on. I blame the bloody cold Estuary Wilds conditions.

I clocked the two Weird Wiv walkers. One fella is guaranteed to be seem strolling with purpose all around the town whenever you’re out. The second bloke appeared as a lockdown walker and has continued ever since. Good effort all round.

The University playing fields had various Wednesday afternoon sports taking place. I didn’t waste my three years at Wivenhoe Park, but I did see more of the SU Bar than the sports pitches.

I saw some student dude wearing what looking like an old G-Force cardigan from the Fair City back in the day. It looked absolutely gorgeous.

The old Hockley shop was always on my radar in the early and mid 80’s whenever I was out and about. I think I only ever bought a pair of shoes. And then come the 90’s it had disappeared.

I had the thought of trying to buy up some old G-Force stock a few weeks ago. I looked around online, and by pure coincidence there is a limited run of knitwear being manufactured once again. I’ve no idea what the price is, but I suspect it would be higher than my monthly CD budget.

Maybe…

I thought I was looking good for the final stretch of the run climbing up Boundary Road. I heard from behind me the shout of:

“OI! SEXY!!!!”

Who could it be? SO many possibilities.

It was A of course. She was returning from silly golf on her Raleigh electric. She cruised passed me in Turbo mode, taking the piss.

Chapeau, luv.

We had an all-hands webinar mid-afternoon. I got a mention as I approach my 17th year anniversary with with the agency. SEVENTEEN years. Woh. I wasn’t counting. I’m genuinely very proud of this achievement.

There was just enough time left in the afternoon for a late game of wiff waff. It was bloody cold at The Table of Dreams. Bad light stopped play after half an hour. I lost 5-2. These games are actually tighter than the scoreline suggest.

And then there was Forest. I began the build up with BBC Nottingham a full two hours ahead of KO. I had told myself not to get sucked into this all over again. In all honesty, I think I have the same level of emotional investment that I had from ’88-’94.

This is healthy, for now. But be prepared for the comedown, Jase.

Links for Wednesday 25th January, 2023

“This club is what it is because of its history and we should always be proud of that”

#nffc #TwoStarsOnTheBadge #RebelCity 🏆🏆🌳🏹

The Mark Gunter Photo Awards: The winners – Rouleur

“The former London Labour Party HQ at Herbert Morrison House in Walworth Road is currently being turned into a branch of the Creams gelato and waffle chain”

Tuesday 24th January, 2023

Another nervy start to the day. I had Apples updates to install across two MacBook Airs, the iPhone and my Apple Watch. I always forget to leave these running overnight. I hit the various buttons and let the modern interweb work its magic. In the meantime I had a game of wiff waff to play.

The Table of Dreams had once again been mistaken for a treadmill overnight. There was muddy footprints to wipe away first. I’m not one to point the finger. But the size of the footprints suggested that this was Weird Wiv yoof. Cheers, Weird Wiv yoof.

I tried to vary my table tennis game. I hit upon the idea of alternating my forehand with a backhand. Soon I was 3-0 down. Whoops. I soon switched back to my normal hit and hope technique. I still ended up on the wrong side of a 6-1 WHACKING.

Album of the Day: Donovan – Sunshine Superman

Christ, this was fucking awful. It started quite promising with Sunshine Superman. But then it became rambling hippy shit. I’m pleased I didn’t live through the late 60’s and early 70’s if this was the music of rebellion. It’s about as dangerous as a cold cup of tea.

I has a spare hour over luncheon for a brief bicycle ride. It was damp and dull around the lanes. Some of the ditches still had ice around the edges.

It was all going fine until I was cut up at a corner by some coffin dodger arsehole. Get off the bloody road, Granddad. I told him to his face as well.

Fresh fly tipping had taken place on the run in back towards Weird Wiv. An entire kitchen had been dumped in one of the ditches. Seriously. Some people.

I was impressed to see an electric hire scooter had made its way all the way over to Elmstead. One person’s fly-tipping is another person’s sustainable transport policy.

It wasn’t the most inspiring of rides, but it was pacy all the same.

Chapeau!

Buzzed: Lambeth Labour Motion backfires as Opposition groups remind the administration of its poor financial track record at the Town Hall

“Sometimes you just have to laugh at the Motions put forward at Lambeth Full Council meetings; not so much in the serious content, but for the response they often receive in Amendments. Ask a silly question, etc.”

Tuesday means that it is veg box delivery day. It also means that we have to try and use up all the shit we’ve ignored for the past week.

We cleaned and chopped up unknown vegetables, and then boiled the fuck out of them. Let’s call this soup. It was half decent after we drowned it all in mixed herbs.

The afternoon soundtrack was a crate of reggae 12’s that I haven’t played yet. Most were hit, rather than miss. Anything that strayed into dancehall territory was placed in the To Sell pile.

I finally finished reading The Beatles Diary Volume 2: After The Break Up, 1970-2001. It feels like I’ve been reading it since bloody 1970. The year 2000 ends with the release of the Beatles No.1 album and George being stabbed.

There’s an interesting Postscript:

“The Beatles will still be out there in one form or another, their music long out of copyright, distributed and broadcast unchecked in some futuristic format that might seem as outrageous to us today as shiny silver CDs would have seemed to Mozart, Duke Ellington or Elvis in their day”

Alexa: Play Pulp, Sorted for E’s and Whizz

Play 80 State, Pacific State

Play Giorgio Moroder’s Electric Dreams.

Oh wow. That worked.

I headed out early evening to pick up the veg. Hordes of screaming little kids were walking behind me. I was a little spooked at first. I then realised they were heading to the opening night of the Village panto.

I could think of nothing worse. I hope they enjoyed it. I’m sure they did. Football and BOOZE did for me.

Links for Tuesday 24th January, 2023

Defend the right to strike: government attacks on democracy and the legal rights of the working class | Morning Star

Cycling patents — what became of the best, worst and weirdest bike innovation ideas | road.cc

Monday 23rd January, 2023

The Postman Delivers: OMD’S Architecture and Morality. I was thought of as a WEIRDO when I bought this on vinyl back in 1981. I should have been buying Bucks Fizz instead. I’m equally thought of as a WEIRDO buying it on CD some 42 years later. Like I give a shit.

I love it how OMD released two different singles, both called Joan of Arc. The marketing FOOLS wouldn’t let you get away with that these days.

The Postman Also Delivers the Dan Hodges book, One Minute to Ten. Yeah, yeah, Centrist shit. But I’m a sucker for an easy politico read that you don’t need a PhD in PPE to understand. He came across as a likeable fella in the recent Party Political podcast. But his politics are shit.

Oh yeah – it was an old library book sold on eBay once again.

I was bloody cold all day. I didn’t really warm up. I was a little transfixed last night watching social content from one of the Wild Swimming Brothers completing an Ice Mile at Lake Brockwell yesterday. This involves swimming a mile (32 lengths!) when the water temperature is 5 degrees or below.

The current temperature is 3 degrees. My winter swimming rule is a length for every degree. Reading how the Wild Swimming Bro needed help to get him out of the pool, plus support from two others to get him changed put a chill down my spine.

I’ve missed outdoor swimming the past two winters. I deliberately timed tattoo appointments to give me a convenient excuse not to swim on through. I plan to return in April, and then hopefully swim on throughout next winter. An Ice Mile can do one though. Maybe I’ll just keep on getting tattooed each winter.

Album of the Day: Pulp – Different Class

I don’t think I’m quite ready for a Pulp reappraisal. Yes, it’s a great album, but it’s also still incredibly over familiar for me. I tried to listen out for anything new. The production has a lot more to offer than I first thought. The focus on Jarvis and the lyrics can lead you to oversee some interesting twists and turns in the music. Pencil Skirt in particular was pretty trippy for the music alone. It gets a little deep with I Spy. I thought 4 stars initially. But Sorted for E’s made me smile and tipped me towards 5 stars.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

There was an hour long Garibaldi Reds podcast, catching up with all things Forest following the 1-1 draw away Bournemouth. There is so much happening at Trentside these days that an hour doesn’t seem excessive.

It’s great that Forest are getting representation in BIG media land form the likes of Fletch and Prutton. For far too long we’ve had clueless BIG media people not giving a shit about the Two Stars and the heritage.

Buzzed: Lambeth LibDems call for a new housing strategy at the Town Hall following the failure of the Council owned Homes for Lambeth

“Lambeth LibDems are calling for a new housing strategy at the Town Hall following the failed Homes for Lambeth being taken back in-house.”

I had to deliver some work training throughout the afternoon. I hopeless at this. The feedback suggested otherwise, but it’s not something I’m entirely comfortable in doing. It was remote, full on video cams. I had to apologise to my North American colleagues for my bloody Estuary Wilds freeze yer bollocks off choice of knitwear.

I played the Ted Hawkins Next Hundred Years CD late afternoon. It was short at 36 minutes. It loses something of the appeal of his earlier work with a band behind him. Ted always worked best when it was just him busking on his guitar. The poor fella copped it a few weeks after the album came out. He was 58.

The news dropped later in the day that the Essex Rebels Head Coach Tom Sadler is leaving. Blimey. I didn’t see that coming. I hope the momentum he has built as part of the Rebels family continues. This is an organisation that is looking to dominate British basketball.

Album of the Day Extra: Buffalo Springfield – Buffalo Springfield Again

It’s about time I got round to listening to this with Diesel Park West banging on about it for the past thirty years. There’s an awful lot of different styles jumping around here. Mr Soul is a promising start. But then it seems to run out of steam for the rest of the album. I prefer DPW tbh.

⭐ ⭐

Sunday 22nd January, 2023

FOOD WARS to start Sunday morning. Daisy’s diet food has caught the attention of the non-dieting Dotty. I placed the food in two different locations. But Dotty was on the scent and tried to snaffle in. Not at that price, luv.

I headed out for a run. It was delicate around Weird Wiv with the pavements frosted over. I had the latest Diesel Park West album in the AirPods. Back in the day and I would have lived with this for six months and little else. The range of choice out there means that I’ve neglected DPW.

It’s half decent. I came to the conclusion that it’s best described as psychedelic skiffle. It’s a sorrowful album, almost a swan song. Gone, Gone, Gone is pretty deep shit towards the end:

“What about faith?
Gone
What about family?
Gone
What about trust?
Gone
What about knowledge?
Gone
What about opinion?
Gone
Speaking without fear?
Gone
What about The Beatles?
Ah, you needed more than love”

My fingers failed to warm up throughout the 10km running route. I was wearing a pair of gloves. The final 2km stretch around the Quay coincided with the bloody bell ringers. I can do without that racket interrupting my DPW listening.

I was two minutes faster around the circuit compared to two days ago. I’m not sure how that happened, considering I was running on thin ice.

We had a return to the home Table of Dreams for a mid-morning knock up. The Ipswich table yesterday disrupted my rhythm a little. I tried a top spin serve at various points during the game today. This led to a 6-1 defeat. I even lost one game 11-0.

Oh dear.

A commented at the end:

“That was good, apart from you being shit.”

Cheers, darling.

Out went the shout of: To Colchester Arts Centre! For The Vinyl Sessions!

Fad Gadget’s debut was lined up on the turntable for a serious midday chin stroking session. I cycled through the campus. The frost had lifted on the University playing fields. Descending Boundary Road was still a little nervy.

Old musty men were drinking real ale at the Arts Centre. I fitted in rather well. I wasn’t familiar with Fad Gadget’s Fireside Favourites. The jumping vinyl as we warmed up with the debut 7″ added to the sound.

The album sounded cool as fuck coming out of the Arts Centre PA system. I loved the idea of anti-Establishment songs filling every space in an old CoE Church on a Sunday morning. I Shazammed one of the track, just for shit ‘n’ giggle. 10/10 for the modern interweb recognising Fad Gadget.

There was a round of applause at the end of side 2. A Q&A followed. I felt seriously out of my depth.

“That sounded nice”

…was my piss poor contribution. The audience were asked for suggestions and volunteers to host future Vinyl Sessions. I may bring along my Whitney debut.

I had a brief Lidl run on the way back. The cost of living shit is truly fucked up. Even cheapo Lidl baked beans are now 49p a tin.

Some petrol head arsehole almost took me out on the Sunny Colch Roundabout of DEATH. I told him face to face what I thought of him as he wound his window down. You get the idea.

We had just enough light left in the day for a brief Weird Wiv walk. The sunset Quay had outdoor boozers getting stuck in.

Chin chin.

We took a detour and went off radar and cross country. LIVE DANGEROUSLY, Jase.

The field were full of frozen mud. It was ankle breaking conditions, especially wearing wellies. In days gone by I would have embraced it and skidded across the ice. Age has got the better of me. I don’t fancy spending the next three months in a hospital bed, unable to earn.

full flickr set

Album of the Day: The Fall – The Infotainment Scan

This is possibly the most accessible album by The Fall – which doesn’t diminish it in any way. Lost in Music is the obvious talking point. Who is lost in music though? And why? A celebratory experience like the Sisters? I get the impression that this is one of Smith’s in-jokes and he’s having a dig at his band at the time. It’a a rare feat to be aware of what’s happening around you musically, but not be influenced by it. You wouldn’t describe The Infotainment Scan as a Madchester album, but Smith is playing a clever game here. Or perhaps he was just pissed and didn’t give a shit?

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Arsenal Vs Man Utd was terrific. It felt like a throwback to football from two decades ago.

Saturday 21st January, 2023

To Ipswich! …early on Saturday morning. The main mission was to service the pair of Raleigh electrics. The spanner appeared in the LED screen for both bicycles. This means it’s time time to drag our arses over to Ipswich and the lovely local shop we bought the Raleighs from.

Sounds simple?

Kinda.

Given better weather then we would have ridden there. I didn’t fancy a 7am roll out in darkness and freezing conditions. We let the train take the strain.

It should have been so simple. We were aware of the escalators being out of action at Sunny Colch. It didn’t make it any easier lugging a couple of 28kg bicycles down the stairs and then back up again to change platforms.

The bicycles were dropped off at the other end. We gave the lovely local shop the entire day to carry out the servicing. Which meant we had a whole day to kill in Ipswich.

wtf to do?

Buy CD’s, innit.

I made a beeline for the one charity shop that I knew is well stocked with a half decent turnover. I wasn’t disappointed: Jeff Buckley, Cat Stevens, Supertramp, Van, John Coltrane, Bentley Rhythm Ace and Paul Young – £6 all in.

I passed on the two Megadeath CD’s. Ditto for the charity shop Brothers in Arms vinyl priced at £20. Money for Nothing, etc.

We strolled around a little and hit on HMV. I didn’t know that HMV was still a thing. It was busy in there at 10am with plenty of yoof buying up whatever yoof buy up in record shops these days. Long may it continue.

I couldn’t resist the book deal of two for £7. I walked out with Steve Jones’ Lonely Boy and the KLF book.

Trip Advisor suggested Christchurch Park was worth a visit. We came prepared with the wiff waff bats and ball. The modern interweb boasted of TWO Table of Dreams.

It was a lovely park in beautiful weather. But we couldn’t find the bloody wiff waff tables. We walked around for half an hour or so. My step count for the day was soon achieved.

Finally we found the Table of Dreams. We wiped down the least damaged table and started a knock up. The surface made the ball bounce a little slower compared to Weird Wiv. I lost 3-2.

The afternoon time killing was put aside with Whitney. I bloody LOVE Whitney. The film was showing at a screen in Ipswich that could accommodate around 30 people. It was almost a sell out.

It was a stunning film. Probably not on par with a Hitchcock, but I know what I like, and I like Whitney. Woh, she lived a troubled life. There wasn’t to be a happy ending. The film focussed more on her high points than dwelling on her death.

My watch failed to find a signal deep within the bowels of the cinema. This meant I missed most of the pings for the Forest game. I caught up on the walk back to the bicycle shop. I’ll take a 1-1 away day on the Coast.

The Raleighs were picked up and we boarded a train back to Weird Wiv. By complete coincidence were sitting next to D and S, on their way back to S Ldn following an Ipswich weekend away. It was a little bonkers, but good to catch up.

We binged on a crappy, crappy straight to video Beatles film on Saturday evening. Barry Grant even made an appearance.

Calm down, etc.

Friday 20th January, 2023

Buzzed: Lambeth spends extra £100k over the budget on patching up the leaking roof at the Carnegie Book-ish Gym

“Lambeth Council is proposing to spend a further £649,000 on patching up the Carnegie Book-ish Gym. The original quote to repair the leaking roof and other areas at the Carnegie Library was £550,000. A contract worth £100,000 more is expected to be awarded to Diamond Build Plc.”

Friday morning means the return of Robert Elms. Hurrah!

He had an excellent interview with Ray Kinsella, the author of the new Bebop Scene in London’s Soho book. Sir Peter Blake was even inspired to put in a phone call adding his recollections. UNIQUE radio. There’s nothing like it anywhere else.

For once I managed to make the perfect bowl of porridge. There’s no secret or science: three sachets of Oat So Simple golden syrup, milk, two minutes and 40 seconds in the microwave. The results vary each day. Perfection for me is a consistency that means you can turn the bowl upside down briefly without any spillage.

The Postman Delivers: a Giant ONCE cycling top. In the absence of a Giant ONCE road bicycle, I thought I would buy a top in anticipation of picking up a frame. The bikes regularly appear on eBay. It’s all about frame sizes and pick up locations. I’ll get there, eventually. And then what a sight as I roll out riding and wearing yellow.

Chapeau!

The Postman Also Delivers: some diet food for Daisy. Oh dear. Here’s where the real tough love starts. It comes at a price, costing around 30% more than the usual cat food. A thinks that it will give Daisy the shits.

Friday lunchtime was spent taking on the 10km circuit around the University. I had the SAULT 11 album in the AirPods. It’s my favourite out of the recent release of FIVE albums that dropped. It sounds like the natural SAULT sound. There are Sade overtones in some of the vocals.

I was three seconds slower for the circuit compared to when I last dragged my aching frame around the University 10km route pre-tattoo. I was a WHOPPING six minutes slower compared to my PB for the route. I’m not sure what happened there.

A couple of short videos were shot to send on to the shed security company. It felt a little weird pointing my iPhone at the shed and talking shit.

I’m not ashamed to say I was in a WHITNEY mood mid-afternoon. I dug out the first album. WHAT A GIRL. I had no idea Jermaine Jackson and Teddy Pendergrass both had duets on the debut. We’ve got time to kill whilst out and about tomorrow. I’m thinking the Whitney film might be a good shout.

I then switched to some Jonathan Richman.

ONE,TWO, THREE, FOUR!

Seamless, Jase. Seamless.

I adore Ice Cream Man. Billy Bragg does a half decent live version that is out there on various 90’s bootlegs.

We got a little lost in a YT hole throughout Friday evening. It started out with the live feed of Tysky Sour on Novara as we tucked into a homemade curry. This led to Bastani’s TED talk which has recently been uploaded. And then that nice Mike Urban speaking at TED Brixton.

That’s quite a lot of theory to take on board. We had a comedown watching the final two quarters of the Sheffield Vs Bristol BBL game.

Links for Friday 20th January, 2023

“We approached the Zune people at Microsoft in 2004 to ask to work with us to make a perfect podcast listening and recording device. Basically the PC of podcasting. Still to this day such a product does not exist.”

@DaveWiner, King of Pods

Thursday 19th January, 2023

Buzzed: Lambeth budgets for price rises of between 10-15% as it prepares to manage borough leisure centres back in-house

“Taking services back in-house is something of a trend at Lambeth Town Hall for 2023. You wait an entire decade for the Third Way Nu Labour project to fail in Lambeth, and then BOOM! Suddenly there is a realisation that the market can be crap when it comes to delivering Council services.”

I had an icy ride for the ten minute cycle into the SW9 school this morning. This was the ideal opportunity to test the new tan wall tyres on the Brompton. They are incredibly light with little grip. I’m no bicycle mechanic, but I’d wager they aren’t exactly black ice friendly.

My pedestrian pace up Stockwell Road meant it probably would have been quicker to walk it. The tyres never felt like I was at risk, but I was ultra, ultra cautious. Corners were taken at pretty much right angles.

I passed three cargo bikes along the short 1km stretch. Lambeth to its credit is attempting some remarkable policy changes with the proposed kerbside policy. It’s a crap name; Anti-Car policy would be more appropriate – and that’s nothing to hide away from, Comrades.

The school day started in Year 7 watching a Newsround catch up. The lead story was the Welsh women’s football team being paid parity with the men. I almost let out a Pavlovian YOU REDS! when Brennan appeared on the class whiteboard wearing the Garibaldi Red.

Chinese dumplings as part of Year 8’s food tech was another highlight. I’m always impressed with the menu choices attempted in these lessons. The best it ever got for me was a pot of tea and cheese on toast. I’ve been dining off it, so to speak, ever since.

I had a fascinating conversation with Girl Z about hew Siamese cats. She explained how they are half-brothers, sharing the same father, but not the same mother. I didn’t like to ask for further details about how she knew such detail.

I wanted to stay for the after-school wiff waff club. There are some decent players who would certainly give me a challenging game. But I was booked on a train back to the bloody Estuary Wilds.

Another Garibaldi Red podcast dropped. I caught up on this throughout the journey. The excellent Tim Vickery was the guest, passing comment on Forest’s three Brazilian signing this season. Just like watching Brazil, etc.

We watched the live iPlayer feed of Question Time early evening. And then the second half of Man City Vs lolspurs. I didn’t warm up, and neither did the cats.

Links for Thursday 19th January, 2023

“Lambeth has one of the lowest car ownership rates in London, yet 94 percent of this public space is given over to parking and that must change.”

Wednesday 18th January, 2023

I had 4GB worth of files to transfer first thing on Wednesday morning to a rowing club member who lives down the road. A digital lifestyle is sometimes overrated.

Wetransfer did the job. I could have walked down the road and back, enjoyed a cup of tea and had a read of my morning feeds, all in the time it took to upload the first file.

Album of the Day: Tangerine Dream – Phaedra

I shit my pants when this album appeared on the 1001 albums generator. I’ve really got to listen to this? It’s WAY out of my comfort zone. My highly refined musical prejudices should make me run a mile from this shit. I needn’t have worried. It was the first thing I listened to today. It was the perfect soundtrack for my online catch up as I slowly eased into the morning with endless mugs of hot tea. It got a little Dungeons and Dragons. I came close to bailing. Soundscapes drifted in and out, not quite sufficient to grab my attention, but decent background music all the same. I probably would feel a little different if I wanted a buzzing off yer tits Friday night album.

⭐ ⭐

Daisy had her three month weigh-in at the vets. I wasn’t involved. Work shit, innit. We were prepared for bad news. She looks fucking huge. The diet has more or less been kept to. For some reason we have a bloated cat.

As expected, she has put weight on again. Oh dear. Quite a significant amount of weight. The vet has recommended a change of food. We’re in danger of our relationship with her being defined by food. Every interaction is: I WANT FOOD. Sorry, luv.

Buzzed: Lambeth to take failed Homes for Lambeth back in-house by April with ‘competitive salaries’ offered for anyone brave enough to take up the challenge of estate ‘regeneration’

“Lambeth Council is hopeful of bringing the failed Homes for Lambeth company back in-house at the Town Hall by April of this year. A new business plan for estate ‘regeneration’ is promised, along with competitive salaries for anyone brave enough to attempt to turn the project around.”

The Postman Delivers: Bryan. Covers Bryan. Cor, wot a smoothie, etc.

I headed out for my first run post-tattoo at lunchtime. I’ve missed pounding the mean streets of CO7. The large puddle in the valley at the foot of the University is now an ice rink. The first optimistic daffs were brave enough to raise their flower-less heads by the Gawd awfully named Knowledge Gateway.

Strava tells me that I was three minutes slower compared to the pre-tattoo run around the 8km circuit a couple of weeks ago. Who gives a shit. I bloody loved being back out running again. I was tingling from head to toe for the remainder of the day.

PMQ’s followed. I’ve come very close to quitting this weekly ritual now. It’s just a parlour game for pricks, right? You know the shortfalls: Question, followed by a non-answer and then a broad, sweeping point about how the governance of an individual’s life can be best achieved by one ideological organisation rather than another.

There is no authority but yourself, etc.

I spent a little time mid-afternoon sourcing cheapo cat food. Not cheapo as in budget Lidl shit; but cheapo as in the diet brand the vet has advised and trying to find the best bargain. It doesn’t come cheap having a fatso cat. I ended up signing up for a subscribe and save deal.

Surrey emailed to confirm payment for Membership at The Oval for the new season ahead. The summer months seem a long, long way off.

Likewise for The Globe. The schedule for the 2023 season at Bankside was announced. It’s the usual big hitters, no doubt with a little twist here and there.

I surprised myself by winning OMD’s Architecture and Morality CD with a cheeky fucker snipe of £3. £10+ seems to be the going rate. It helped that I sold a bloody awful pair of M&S chino shorts that I have never worn. What the chuff was I thinking?

Wednesday evening was then lost in darkness and cold. I boarded the 7:23 outta Weird Wiv and buggered off back down to Sunny Stockwell for a brief Transpontine holiday by mistake.

I was a little uneasy about entering the flat having been away for a week. I always am. The rattling walls of last week were still on my mind. I need to head up in the loft for a good look around with a head torch. But that can wait for another day.

Links for Wednesday 18th January, 2023

Lidos live again: UK braces for outdoor swimming pool revival

Tuesday 17th January, 2023

News of a new Sleaford fucking Mods album in March. The tease of the UK GRIM track is promising. Even better is the Cold War Steve video. The humour reminds me a little of the much missed Free South London and Wolfgang Moneypenny.

There’s an album launch at Rock City back in the Fair City. I’m half tempted. The album even has a limited 300 cassette run. Bloody LOVE Sleaford fucking Mods. Still relevant, still Telling It Like It Is.

The Postman Delivers: Ted. I’ve developed a soft spot of late for Ted and his guitar pickings. I bought this CD blind having not heard it before. Book, cover etc.

Album of the Day: The Cramps – Songs The Lord Taught Us

This is pretty harmless, but hardly a classic. The Cramps were more of a lifestyle than a music band. The whole psychobilly thing was pretty cool at the time. This probably made more sense live than listening to via Spotify. The songs blended into one. It’s a little music by dots with no great variation or surprises.

⭐ ⭐

The daily eBay alerts included a Dr Feelgood Jetty CD. It goes for stupid, stupid money. I streamed it to remind myself if it was worth the £30+. It wasn’t. It didn’t help that Spotify serves you up the deluxe two hour album. If any band is less suited to two hour album efforts then it’s the snarl of Dr Feelgood.

It was bloody freezing all day. We both had wfh. I confess to having the heating on all day. We headed out to The Table of Dreams at lunchtime. Although cold, it was glorious out in the sun. I experimented with my return spin. I lost 6-1. The return spin experimentation ended.

Some random settee buying took place late in the afternoon. We just pressed the modern interweb buttons and got on with it. We both don’t give a fuck about it, tbh.

I started going through my hit and miss rowing photo archive. I’ve promised a presentation ahead of the art gallery exhibition later this month. It got a little repetitive looking at snaps of an oar hanging over the water.

Out went the shout of: To the boozer! …early evening. We had a walking football team meeting and bonding session. They’re a very likeable bunch. We’re all optimistic about the team for the weeks ahead.

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