I’ll tell you who’s not so hot at social distancing. Ants, that’s who. Bloody ants. All over the place. All over each other. Obviously an ants nest would be impractical if they had to socially distance to the tune of 2 metres, but they should at least work out what 2 metres is in ant […]Read More Battle of the ants.
Brighter. That’s what I think I promised at the end of this morning’s post. Something a bit brighter. Perhaps less dark might work better. Forget the end of the world, just wipe it from your mind. Might never happen. I’m moving on with my life and by that I mean I’ve just come back from […]Read More Like a happy hamster.
I hope you didn’t book two weeks on the cheap in Spain to soothe your furrowed post lockdown brow and then decided to go to the press to deliver a sob story about the re-imposition of self quarantining when you got back. That would make you very silly indeed. You can’t take one risk without […]Read More Apocalypse in a bit.
Peter Green was probably the greatest blues guitarist Britain ever produced. I say probably because when it comes to pure blues I don’t really have a clue. I can tell you loads about white bands and white musicians that stole prolifically and shamelessly from the blues (almost exclusively the creation of black musicians) and mutated […]Read More Peter Green – no sweat.
It’s been ages since I last bought a copy of Q, the music magazine. Literally years. And years. It had got to the point where I didn’t even buy a copy in an airport as an act of desperation to ease the pain of a long haul flight. Being a sucker for music writing I […]Read More On Q Magazine.
I’m sitting in my living room, an empty side plate by my, er, side, that sports the scant and scattered remains of a slice of toast with salted butter and Vegemite. Of all the things I ever imagined Australians would do well I never imagined that it would be to make something the equal of […]Read More Stuff wot I’ve watched lately.
I’ve got up early, put a wash on and made Wifey a spot of breakfast. That could potentially be all I’ll achieve today and so in an effort to remedy such a depressing prospect the least I can do is throw a few words together for you. In the time it takes to boil an […]Read More A wet breakfast.
How did it all go so wrong? Why did their love, once as strong as a damp tissue, whittle itself down to nothing. Surely no couple were ever more likely to last forever; a match weaved through a mesh of vanity and bad taste. What’s more concerning is that the press seem to think anyone […]Read More The Grotty Little Ballad Of J&A.
Over the last few weeks I have gently eased out of running and slid almost effortlessly into high intensity workouts. I have paused to soak up your indifference to this news. Why should you be interested anyway? No doubt you have adopted your own methods of keeping trim at home and if you haven’t done […]Read More My core strength.
There’s a sign outside my local Co-Op that slurs “ONE IN ONE OUT”. That’s it, just that and all the other well intentioned yet ineffective social distancing crap that shops around the land have had to employ over the last 4 months. Aisle arrows and patronising Tannoy announcements, that kind of thing. But that little […]Read More One out, one in.