EDitorial ± 2-Sep-2005
Day 2 === The Shocking Second
Ken Bruce off R2: witty guy? Heard ten mins of his show while motoring to work and he seemed, well, funny. He played the current Oasis single (sounded like a Zutons album track to me), then called them "the Chas & Dave of their generation." Which struck me as humourous.
One or two tracks earlier was Beach Baby, I think by First Class. Couple of mins into the song is an instrumental break, poss. with French horns, which sounds v. much like Glassworks by Philip Glass. Spooky.
Not driven to work for a while and wouldn't have today but for some emergency repairs. Wife had reported some not-good noises from the underside, so muggins did the Kwik-Fit run. Arrived for opening time and was still 4th in the queue, sporting my Lance cycling top and shorts in anticipation of two less wheels. Like that 6 foot 10 inch tennis bloke, their service is second to none. Mechanic chappy diagnosed a sheared shock (or shomething shimilar) and said he'd have it done in around 25 minutes. Which gave me an excuse to wander into McDonald's next door for a latte, pancakes & syrup (guilty pleasure) and Sudoku in their copy of The Times. Dashed hard work, this car maintenance malarkey. All together now: refitting is the reversal of removal.
And I spotted a number 1 number plate on the way home. Up to 4 now.
Lost on VHS tonight while nibbling on homemade crumbly custard creams. Nearly got spoiler-ed by an article in the McNewspaper, never mind the odd mention in Andrew Collins' blog. Jungle Jack's back story got an airing: boy, it's tough being the hero. Various creepy "is he or isn't he hallucinating" moments made for an entertaining episode. And if you did turn over to E4 straight away for the successive installment, what would you watch next week? That way lies madness, to be sure.
One or two tracks earlier was Beach Baby, I think by First Class. Couple of mins into the song is an instrumental break, poss. with French horns, which sounds v. much like Glassworks by Philip Glass. Spooky.
Not driven to work for a while and wouldn't have today but for some emergency repairs. Wife had reported some not-good noises from the underside, so muggins did the Kwik-Fit run. Arrived for opening time and was still 4th in the queue, sporting my Lance cycling top and shorts in anticipation of two less wheels. Like that 6 foot 10 inch tennis bloke, their service is second to none. Mechanic chappy diagnosed a sheared shock (or shomething shimilar) and said he'd have it done in around 25 minutes. Which gave me an excuse to wander into McDonald's next door for a latte, pancakes & syrup (guilty pleasure) and Sudoku in their copy of The Times. Dashed hard work, this car maintenance malarkey. All together now: refitting is the reversal of removal.
And I spotted a number 1 number plate on the way home. Up to 4 now.
Lost on VHS tonight while nibbling on homemade crumbly custard creams. Nearly got spoiler-ed by an article in the McNewspaper, never mind the odd mention in Andrew Collins' blog. Jungle Jack's back story got an airing: boy, it's tough being the hero. Various creepy "is he or isn't he hallucinating" moments made for an entertaining episode. And if you did turn over to E4 straight away for the successive installment, what would you watch next week? That way lies madness, to be sure.