onionbagblog

Buzzed: Lambeth approve application for the Country Show with four days to go – despite the Great Wall of Brockwell already in place around the park

Album of the Day: Orbital – Snivilisation

This makes more sense hearing it in a field rather than sat at home streaming through the AirPods. Even then I’d need some pretty strong drugs to get through this shit at 3am in the morning.

If it wasn’t for the GUSHING of the techno fan boys, this could quite easily be a mixtape from a dodgy early ’90s pirate station.

⭐

SUCCESS for Wednesday morning. The first app I opened up was for my bank. And there it was: an inbound payment of £1.50 from Royal Mail.

That wasn’t hard now, was it?

Oh Lordy. It’s only taken me eight half hour phone calls to get this refund. I still haven’t got a chuffing clue what the original item was that was sent without sufficient postage.

A thinks that it is a scam. This isn’t the first time the local sorting office has asked me for £1.50 and then failed to deliver. But who is the scammer? Surely not Royal Mail?

This is a moral victory for the power of OCD thinking when it comes to tight arse penny pinching. This is the happiest I have felt all year.

In Other Correspondence News: it appears that I need to buy a dressing gown for some personal business to attend to after the summer. I bloody hate dressing gowns. I’ve not worn one since a school Christmas Nativity play over 45 years ago.

The dressing gown will only need to be worn once. A suggested Primark. I’m thinkink eBay or a Sunny Colch charity shop. Or even a post on the local Facebook group asking if anyone can lend me one.

That will shake the stiffs up.

The Annoying Mow Man was doing his annoying mowing thing outside the house for most of the morning. Yeah, yeah. I get your No Mow May thing. The downside is that it takes you a full on day to cut all the crap that has grown. Some of us have wfh, fella.

I listed half a dozen reggae 12’s on eBay. They’re shit. That wasn’t part of the item description, but they are absolute rank.

I’m getting close to bundling up some 12’s and rocking up at Lion Vibes Selecta Thursday in Brixton Vill-aaage and playing a Thursday night set. A is urging caution. I feel it could be a turning point for me.

Mad Dogs and Jase go out in the bloody Estuary Wilds sun. My only free time for a run was at midday. I had miles in my legs and so plodded off along the estuary.

Phew, Wot a Scorcher, etc. It felt good. I became so over heated that my sweat self-evaporated. It’s quite a look, ladies.

I rinsed the new Baxter Dury album during the afternoon. My initial disappointment is starting to turn. The first five tracks are bangers. It then gets a little odd. The lyrics, the bass, the female backing – the fucking profanities. It’s all there.

A run of school publishing landed late afternoon. I smell an imminent visit from that nice Mr Ofsted.

TWO Forest pods dropped later in the day: Garibaldi Red and Forever Forest. Both covered similar ground with a review of the high and low points of the season.

It’s been a hellish season tbh. The lows far out number the highs. But when those highs did come along, then woh. Still buzzing from Palace away.

To Sunny Stockwell! …late in the day. I’ve got business back down in S Ldn over the next few days.

I could have done without the toilet conversation from a couple of Weird Wiv sorts who were also making the journey to LS. This was the most middle class chod bin talk over the phone ever.

It was centred around which level of poncey toilet they were going to have installed, and what benefits the high tech chod bin would bring.

I made a hasty exit at LS. It was pleasing to see a Hari Krishna fella rattling his little cymbal things and spreading some hippy shit throughout the City.

The Brompton didn’t feel right. Within the first couple of minutes I realised that the Brooks saddle was fucked. The master bolt that holds it all together had come loose. My mechanical skills can’t even stretch to fitting a new bicycle seat.

It made for a very uncomfortable ride back down to Sunny Stockwell. The only way to keep the seat on the pole was to ride with a clenched arse. I somehow made it to SW8. A quick tighten up in the flat and job’s a good ‘un.

Wednesday evening was spent reflecting on what wonderful decent human beings some West Ham fans are.

Album of the Day: Beck – Odelay

The slacker feel sounds tedious. I felt like I was transported back to a crappy early 90’s bar. How the chuffers did this break through to the mainstream? Gawd, it’s shit.

⭐

My Strava stats for May dropped: 710km in total. It feels like the majority of these were clocked up getting lost around the outskirts of Clacton on a recent Jaywick ride.

The second email of the day was the ONS Covid shit survey. Yep, this is still a thing. It reminded me what a routine, dull existence I lead with no change in my lifestyle, month in, month out.

Don’t worry – I like it that way, Comrades.

An important date regarding a personal matter was confirmed mid-morning. That makes tattoo planning and cold water swimming arrangements a lot easier to organise.

Like a FOOL I then called up Royal Mail again. I’m persistent fucker. I paid £1.50 for a service that Royal Mail failed to provide. You picked a fight with the wrong OCD fella here, dudes.

Album of the Day Extra: Penguin Cafe Orchestra – Music from the Penguin Cafe

I liked the idea of this album more than the end result. It’s quite a pastoral album, painting pictures through the music. That sounds like arty farty shit, but in the absence of any lyrics, then the mind wanders.

It gets a little paranoid in places with the jabbing from the strings. Not quite the early morning relaxation I wanted. But different, which is always good.

⭐ ⭐

I had only half an hour free for any form of escape during the day. This was enough time for the Weird Wiv hill training – all 58m of it in height. I pushed myself for the 5km and picked up a decent time.

An eBay seller whom I have bought loads of CD’s off in the past reduced prices across the board. I stepped in and snaffled up The Jam’s In the City (completes the set), The Stones’ Let It Bleed and some Wayne Shorter.

I followed the Lambeth Planning meeting from afar. It’s a farce that the top of the agenda item was an application from Lambeth to host the Lambeth Country Show in four days time. The Great Wall of Brockwell is already standing, natch.

We watched the Leicester innings in the Hit ‘n’ Giggle. I confess to having something of a soft spot for Leicestershire when it comes to cricket.

A day of a little work, but much more leisure.

The mid-morning ride to the pool was cool and overcast along the Trail. The path was busy with other cyclists. The over-hanging branches made it quite a technical ride at some pinch points.

The tandem couple had their wonderful ride locked up outside the pool. I can’t work out which couple at the gym this belongs to. I quite like the element of the mystery tandem riders.

This was the first swim wearing my new goggles. I’ve been buying and swimming with this exact same Decathlon brand for over a decade. Tried and trusted.

It was a strong swim. 1km, edging ever closer to under 19 minutes.

I passed a poor young fella who had crashed his kiddie MTB on the ride back along the Trail. His Mum was at hand to add a magic kiss and cuddle. I must have been an Inset Day around the bloody Estuary Wilds, given the number of ankle biters.

I was free mid-afternoon for a longer ride. The plan was to let the Beeline Velo 2 guide me towards Jaywick, then plot in a course heading northwards, before completing the triangle back home.

I had to stop within five minutes to add the gilet layer that I had packed.

The school run, and then the closed gates of the railway crossing at Great Bentley slowed me slightly.

I reached Jaywick, and then though fuck this. I didn’t like to hang around with the Raleigh electric.

I rolled along, not with any real sense of direction. I kinda knew the roads and thought that I would chance it.

I circled around the edges of Clacton, before finding a familiar lane and making the return journey.

Forest announced the winner of the Goal of the Season: Chris Wood’s £15m tap in against Man City. Every player in the team touched the ball. If this was Barcelona then legacy media would be hailing it as Goal of the Decade.

I listened to BBC Nottingham’s review of the season. It was quite emotional. I miss Forest so much already. Pre-season starts in a couple of weeks.

With no shame we watched Jurassic Dominion World on Monday evening. I forked out £3 for three months of Sky Movies. I’m determined to make it work by watching all sorts of Blockbuster shit.

And blimey – this was blockbuster shit. The film was bonkers. I rather enjoyed it.

The only good thing about being woken at 5am by Dotty was that I got to test the good vibrations theory: is the annoying vibration hum coming from our house, or is it related to the traffic outside?

Or possibly an outcome of both?

With no cars until 6am, there was no vibrations. So that proves the theory that it’s an external issue. It may – or may not – then be leading to something vibrating within.

Cheers, Madam Dotty.

Album of the Day: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

This reminds me of Van Morrison in places. It’s positioned on the threshold of punk in’76. Tom Petty could never be placed within this scene, but it did influence his future direction.

What we have here then is the Like Punk Never Happened version of Tom. It’s very twangy. The pace picks up finally with American Girl at the end. The album is short on melodies. A useful starting point, but nothing great.

⭐ ⭐

To the Table of Dreams! It’s been a while. We had a spare half hour in the morning and so spent it knocking up with a game of wiff waff.

We were both very rusty. I found it tough to hit the corners of the table – the sweet spot for table tennis.

Somehow I managed a 2-1 lead. A then pulled away, WHACKING me 3-2.

To Alresford! For walking football friendlies!

We cycled on to the nearby Alresford. I was playing, A’s company was requested as part of the WAG’s.

A mini friendly tournament had been arranged. Walton don’t play in our NE Essex Alliance League. They fancied some game practice and some new opposition. We invited Col U along for the fun.

The idea was for two games per team, each playing one another. Somehow this stretched to four games as we played each other twice. It got a little intense in the midday Alresford heat.

The games were friendlies, but they got a little heated as well. The walking part of walking football is often subjective.

I played mainly up front. I managed some decent shots, forcing some saves from the Walton ‘keeper. I slipped a little lower down the pitch against Col U. I was getting nowhere with their experienced sweeper.

Another Coop BOOZE run followed back at base. The more cheapo stuff I buy in the gypo aisle, the more cheapo shit they put out. This was my fourth BOOZE run in two days.

Oh dear.

To WTCC! The Sunday team had a home fixture. The plan was to enjoy some cheapo Coop BOOZE, watch the cricket and listen to the Surrey commentary in the hit ‘n’ giggle away at Kent.

We arrived with the away team back in the hutch on 72.

Whoops.

This was going to be a very short game.

I opened up a cheapo Stella Artois. A pissed herself when she clocked the alcohol free label.

wtf?

Sorry, beer nerds. I just don’t get alcohol free BOOZE. It tasted rank, btw.

The cricket was soon over. Wivenhoe knocked off the chase with a mixture of experience and yoof.

We snaffled up some incredibly cheap homegrown fruit and veg that was on sale outside one of the houses on the walk home. The cherry tomatoes were an amazing red colour.

The early Wivenhoe finish meant that we could listen to the Surrey chase back down in Kent. That was close.

#3feathers, and proud.

We caught up with the Test highlights from yesterday. Lord’s looked lush. We’ve got a trip planned to HQ next month.

And then the Dauphine highlights.

Chapeau!

Hey! How about starting the weekend with another phone call to Royal Mail?

Betcha.

Half an hour later and I got to speak to someone about the promised £1.50 refund on the extra postage I paid for the parcel that wasn’t delivered.

“I can see you have called us a number of times, Sir.”

BETCHA again.

I’ve been told to expect a refund on Monday.

Saturday morning was all about rowing. We had a Two Boat social row with both Audacity and Varuna having crews.

I was placed in Varuna, the boat we bought last year. She’s the same spec in terms of design, but is made of fibre glass rather than wood.

The boat has a different feel to it as you glide through the water. Plus the foot rests are in a slightly different position. It makes for a different rowing experience.

We were also rowing with some new crew members. WivGigs continues to grow. It’s been a great way to meet new people and get a different perspective outside of the established social circle.

There was a bit of a backlog in launching. The Sailing Club cadets were doing their Saturday morning thing down at the hard.

Eventually we were off. I started on first bow, and made my way up to stroke as we played musical chairs mid-channel.

I even found myself coxing for a short while so that everyone got the chance to row. I was impressed in how I kept my calm and was able to turn Varuna around one of the buoys as we made our way back upstream.

Back on dry land and I headed straight to the Coop again. I took two bags and cleared them out of reduced price cheapo beer.

It seems that the shelves are being restocked each night. I made a diary date to do the same again on Sunday morning.

I caught up with the Unprecedented podcast whilst doing some household chores. It’s picking up, but the timeline is still all over the bloody place. This makes for disjointed listening.

Robert Elms had a great four-fer ahead of the Cup Final: songs from Manchester band. The Hollies. Joy Division, A Guy Called Gerald and A Certain Ratio all featured. Oh – and Buzzcocks at the end.

I recorded the FA Cup Final as I had to tackle the garden and clean the windows.

LIVE the dream, Jase.

It was a right bloody pain trying to avoid the score.

Football. Bloody hell, etc.

The overnight body count for dead rodents was two. One of them was left on the stairs. Dotty had fun overnight.

I had fun before the first cup of tea of the day when I checked the Premium Bonds app. As ever, it’s not enough to retire on. But it will keep my CD spreadsheet in the black for another month.

Album of the Day: UB40 – Signing Off

Still sounds fresh, still has plenty to say as an album. That’s more of a comment on the shitty state of the UK, 43 years since the original release. I love the space that the songs have to breathe. Music needn’t be complicated.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

One of my Dropbox accounts threatened self deactivation. I’d forgotten I had it. I have been using the workaround of Dropbox Encore to run two accounts off the same machine.

The Encore account was mainly for work video and audio dumps. I no longer have access to the email address associated with the account.

Arse.

It got a little fiddly, but I managed to regain control and keep the account ticking over.

This led me to looking at the content that’s in there. It includes my old audioboo(m) content stretching back to 2009. There’s 676 pieces of audio buried away in there.

Audioboo made the account private by default after I politely refused the offer to go down the subscription model. The page hangs there, essentially dead to the modern interweb.

The next challenge for Friday morning was to get the content out of the silo. It wasn’t quite that simple. I tried various batch scraping tools, but not of them were able to deliver.

Silly silos.

My patience was tested for ten minutes too long. After 15 minutes of trying, I called it quits. I’ve got the original audio backed up in various hard drives stored away in the bomb box in the loft. They’ll come in handy one day. Honest.

Robert Elms had a decent show on BBC London. Cover to Cover was Working My Way Back To You, Frankie Vs the Detroit Spinners.

The DS won by a mile. I even allowed myself a little bop in the office.

There was also a great goth feature with an interview with Cathi Unsworth on her new Season of the Witch book.

I pondered a Lidl BOOZE run mid-afternoon. I’m not sure why, but I thought I would give the Weird Wiv Coop a shifty first.

WOH.

Result.

I don’t quite know what was going off here. There was shelves and shelves of reduced BOOZE. It was priced down to around £1 per pint. The sell by dates across the various brands was November 2023.

Like I said – I don’t quite know what was going off here.

I filled my boots. And my bags. I even spared the expense of a bag for life to carry back as much BOOZE as I could manage.

I then turned around and headed out for a return trip.

The lovely neighbours were tipped off. And A.

We have plans to return at 8am and wipe out the aisles.

Chin chin.

My main Twitter account was b0Rked for most of the afternoon. All the tweets appeared not available. Ten years ago and this would have mattered. I don’t give a shit these days. They did re-appear later in the evening.

The Forest retained list for next season was no great surprise. I feel sorry for Lingard. He never got going at the World Famous City Ground.

Meanwhile Harry Arter somehow still hangs on to a contract at Trentside. I doubt if Steve Cooper even knows who he is.

We finished Friday watching more hit ‘n’ giggle with the ‘rrey away at Gloucestershire. Given the BOOZE theme of the day, this was oddly a teetotal telly viewing experience.

Buzzed: Lambeth Council appoints contractor to build green screens around local schools in the borough

A cheeky morning social row with WivGigs. We headed downstream with time and tide being a little tight.

The waters became choppy as we reached the intersection with the Creek. It was a wise decision to turn around the buoy and find some calmer waters.

We passed a flotilla of six swans lining the muddy banks of the Colne. One of our crew thought it was a flotilla of boats from a distance.

A game of on board musical chairs took place as we returned to the Sailing Club for the recovery. It’s all about having the right bodies in the right place in the boat for a smooth transition back to dry land. It was impressive that we managed to keep on rowing whilst the manoeuvres took place.

Some household chores took up the morning. Broadband was renewed for Sunny Stockwell for another year. I did a little legwork and found a cheapo price with an unrecognised provider.

I did the haggling thing with the current broadband provider and managed to get the price down. I need a reliable service for work. I’m hesitant to go down the cheap as chips route.

Contents insurance for the flat was also snaffled up. The quote with the current provider has a £1 increase for the next twelve months. Even my tight arse ways is relaxed to settle with this one.

I was on a admin roll. I booked in a plumber to see the crashing sound in the pipes whenever we flush the toilet. I’m also convinced that the water level is too low. A is not so sure.

The nice plumber asked for a photo ahead of the visit. I’m sure that’s a specialist website waiting to happen.

The first four tracks from the new Baxter Dury album dropped. The full release is next week. It’s a familiar Baxter sound: spoken word, littered with profanities, a solid bass and some beautiful female backing.

We watched the Roses derby in the Blast. Yorkshire look impressive this season. I’d forgotten that Colin de Grandhomme played for the ‘rrey last season.

I’ve been pretty fucked all day tbh. Dotty jumped on the bed at 2am, 4am and then 6am.

Cheers, Dotty.

The morning listening included the second disc of Weller’s Will of the People. It’s a mixed three disc box set, wrapping up B-sides and rarities from the past decade or so of Weller’s prolific output.

The sleeve note explain how the B-side should be seen as a one off. There’s no pressure to come up with the goods; the artist can experiment and fuck around.

Disc 2 does just this, especially with the cover How Sweet It Is. Weller’s reworking is unrecognisable from Marvin’s sugar pop original. It’s a different tune with the same lyrics.

You can see why it was held over for a B-side, but it’s interesting and shows some attempt at experimentation. The old war horse has been in his prime for the past ten years or so. Seriously.

Buzzed: Lambeth Council winds down the failed Homes for Lambeth group of companies with legal changes to speed up the process

“Homes for Lambeth is being wound down by the Council, resulting in minimal meetings and legal obligations.”

Elsewhere…

BLOGGED: Garden Waste Charges to Start in 2024 with £55 Annual Fee

“The Council claims the need for alternative revenue-generating schemes to prevent the closure of leisure centres and other essential services – although charging for garden waste collection and closing leisure centres is not exactly a binary choice.”

I caught up with the BBC Nottingham look back at Forest’s season. The Reds are Staying Up said it all. It’s a great listen. I suspect it will sound even sweeter in years to come when we look back at what just happened.

I must stop wasting time watching endless Waka Waka videos on Twitter.

I cycled off for the lunchtime swim. The Trail was incredibly dry and dusty. This surprised me. I thought it rained last night? Dotty jumped on the bed at 2am soaking wet. Maybe it wasn’t rain?

What looked like a German Critical Mass contingent passed me on the Trail. There was half a dozen riders pulling trailers carrying their touring gear. German flags were flying from the rear of each trailer.

Chapeau, meine freunde!

The swim was once again so so. I finally gave up on the goggles and accepted they are fucked. The left eye kept on taking in water. I’ve got a pair in reserve that I can switch over to.

I shared a lane with some fella who was pretty fast. He didn’t have the physique to suggest this. Looks can be deceptive.

My time for the 40 lengths was 1 second than yesterday. Blame it on the porridge, Jase.

Some unexpected afternoon listening was the Steve Ignorant podcast from the Arts Centre. Yer man is bringing Crass songs to Sunny Colch later in the year.

This led to a rather loud playing of Feeding of the 5,000. Christ, that’s a scary shit of an album. It sounds like nothing else. I feel alive each time I give it a listen – which isn’t very often these days.

A bit more Buzzed: Lambeth Planning set to give green light to stage the Country Show and Pokémon Go at Brockwell Park

“Given that the officers have recommended approval for the application, and considering the commercial bookings for the Country Show, it is unlikely that the Planning Committee will refuse approval.”

Album of the Day: Tim Buckley – Greetings From L.A.

There’s some great sax and female backing vocals. I wasn’t expecting that. The L.A. in the title is dominant throughout. This is a showbiz album, again a surprise. It really is quite soulful.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

BT mailed saying don’t forget to activate your freebie Discovery+. Wait. It’s free? This wasn’t explained when I signed my life away for the latest contract.

It’s with perfect timing as well with a summer of cycling ahead. I was a FOOL to fork out the 30 odd quit just to watch the shitty Dulwich Peter Crouch series last year.

A bit more BLOGGED: Five More Years as Colchester BID Seeks Renewal

“Expect plenty of back slapping from the LibDem Cabinet and their Labour Centrist cheerleaders. They BLOODY LOVE the Third Way concept of having a BID carry out commercial work that the Council can’t afford to do”

To Alresford! For walking football!

The past two sessions have been incredibly competitive. Our team is evolving, working, playing together and understanding each others strengths.

My strengths are running – sorry, walking – up and down the pitch, Harry Hodge style. I clocked just under 5km in the hour long session tonight.

We’ve got a round robin tournament at the weekend. I think we’ll do well with the new found club spirit since we rebranded the franchise (ha!) as Alresford Colne Rangers.

I was back at base in time to catch the Surrey run chase down at the Rose Bowl in the hit ‘n’ giggle. Blimey. That was impressive. Timed to perfection with an over to spare.

I gave Mule’s Days of May a play for the final time this year. It’s still incredibly haunting.

Album of the Day – Pere Ubu – Dub Housing

This was a bit of an early morning jolt in an attempt to overcome the hangover. Another album that I know I’m expected to like, but, but… It’s too angular for me. All elbows poking you around with no smooth flow. Maybe I drank too much last night.

⭐ ⭐

It was a day of few surprises. The day after a Bank Holiday is often like that.

I managed a lunchtime escape for a swim. I cycled in along the Trail for the first time in a few weeks. It’s in a glorious green state, although a little overgrown.

The swim felt fine, but it wasn’t as fast as I first thought. I was one second over 17 mins for the 40 lengths. These fine margins seem to bother me.

I blame it on the goggle issues I had. I swam for 20 lengths taking on water. I’m surprised I didn’t drown.

Some delicate neighbourly negotiations were attempted late in the day: Dear neighbour, please prune your tree. It is in danger of messing with my suntan this summer. Ta.

Let’s see what comes back.

Out went the shout of: To Moving Image! …early evening.

Moving Image is the community cinema set up in the village hall.

We’ve been threatening to sign up for the Odeon £15 a month deal for the past year or so. We’ve always found a reason not to do this. A crap schedule at the Odeon usually tops the list.

I had the brainwave of being a regular at Moving Image instead. This is something we use to do when we first moved into the bloody Estuary Wilds. It filled a Saturday night slot whilst we had no telly after the house move.

And then Moving Image switched to Tuesday evenings. We both had work commitments. These have been eased a little of late. And so a return to Moving Image it was.

In its favour is the travelling time. Two minutes there, two minutes back. If it’s a shit film then we can simply walk out.

Showing on Tuesday evening was Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom.

Nope, me neither.

It wasn’t part of the Marvel universe.

The experience wasn’t exactly mega cinema multi-plex. But that’s the appeal. We’ll probably be back.

Resolving ifttt issues on Bank Holiday Monday morning is something that I didn’t want to do.

And so I didn’t.

Move along.

I received an email from ifttt a few days ago saying that one of my apps was offline. It didn’t explain which one – which wasn’t particularly helpful.

By deduction over the past few days, I’ve worked out that’s it’s the auto tweet whenever I upload a new video from my YT channel.

A little poking around, and ifttt has now made YT a pro feature. No ta. I can simply cut and paste any content over to Twitter as part of the workflow.

I did think of using another service like Zapier. But the stupid Internet of Things is still dumb. It never really happened. It was just a by-word for companies like ifttt to draw you in, then head over to subscription.

The most important tech mantra I’ve learnt over recent years is MOVE ALONG. Spend five minutes faffing around, then yep, move along.

Go for a bicycle ride or something.

Speaking of which…

To the Coast! on the Raleigh electric!

Any bloody Coast, tbh. It’s a Bank Holiday. It’s the Mod thing, innit.

The plan was to roll out towards Frinton, only to lead to the inevitable disappointment of the bloody brilliant second hand record shop being closed.

The main disappointment was that I got a little confused with my directions. I missed the Frinton turn off. I ended up on the outskirts of Clacton. I didn’t hang around long.

There was one hell of a head wind around the coast. I had no shame in flicking the electric switch up to Tour mode.

WHOOSH.

The chain and crank on the Raleigh is now running smooth. The slight loosening of the tight chain seems to have lost the constant CLANKING sound coming out of the crank.

It looked there had been some major Bank Holiday spring cleans around the Clacton coast. Every other item had a FREE sign outside with various junk dropped on the driveway. I skimmed for CD’s, but with no joy.

I raised a smile at seeing Nottingham Road, then Manchester Road – in Holland on Sea. No wonder this lot voted for silly Brexit.

I finally made it along the coast and was washed up in Frinton.

Betcha the bloody brilliant record shop is closed.

wait.

Nope – it’s only bloody open. TUCK IN.

I decided to limit my time and spend. I could spend half the afternoon in here and wipe out the red column in my Treats Spreadsheet.

It’s not actually called Treats Spreadsheet, but it does exist.

I flicked through the racks. They even had a copy of Diesel Park West’s Decency.

I walked out with the Beats International debut, Japan’s Quiet Life, Primal Scream’s Evil Heat, PIL’s Best Of, World Party’s Bang! and a couple of Miles Davis. Yours for £14, Sir. GEDDIN.

I time trialled it back to Weird WIv. We had plans to spend a couple of hours at the Beer Festival. But the play offs sucked us in.

Football. Bloody hell, etc.

Album of the Day: Ella Fitzgerald – The Gershwin Songbook

Walt Disney music, innit.

⭐