Author: graybo

Classic TV moment: just caught the beginning of the Grand Prix as I went in to the house here at work to fetch my lunch. Martin Brundle on the grid at Monaco: “Oh look, there’s Puff Daddy. Shall we go say hello? How do we do this? ‘Hello Mr Daddy’?”
Utter class – one of the funniest pieces of sports journalism I have ever seen – tears were rolling down my cheeks.
Also, looks like a good day for Ferrari supporters (like me).

Tonight (and I mean Saturday night):
beer with Arron, Cat, her mate Karen (hmm), Paul S, Tim W and, of course, Kristian, Al, Simone, Leah, Ginny (lovely!) and Joel. Mostly a relaxed evening. More tomorrow in lieu of revision, especially as it is Al’s last night in W2.
And anyone who doesn’t think that Meltdown (the last track on the new Orbital album) is the best thing since bread came in the sliced format is clearly sick in the head.

I’d like to point out that Brooke wasn’t itching to get away from me. Or if she was, it didn’t show. Cal is an evil, evil man.

This is still one of the coolest blogs I know.

Once again, I feel we should worry about Marcia, as she points us all at this.

This morning, the sky was overcast and grey, and the cathedral spire pointed into a thin grey mist. Weather which perfectly reflects my mood.
I haven’t woken up feeling this down for weeks. I know why too. Somehow I have got to beat it, but I’m not sure how. And there aren’t many people around to lift my spirits tonight either. guh.

tonight: (that’s Friday night for the pernickety)
got home late. Slept in the bath and later on the bed before heading to the bar. A mostly cheerful evening once there, but decided to come home before closing time in order to get some sleep.
Principal news:
– barmaid in W2 who I always thought was called Jenny is in fact Ginny. Sorry!
– Paul F’s last night out before his family holiday starting Sunday morning.
– my friends are amongst the finest people you could know.
Tired now, time for bed.

God. I’m knackered. I’ve been out of the office all day, delivering and collecting plants. Hence, no blogging. And I’m too tired now, so this is all you’re going to get today.
But I’ll leave you this thought to ponder – why do male (mostly) drivers always let blondes in convertible cars pull out in front of them? I’ve been known to do that myself, but have never gained any favour, monetary, sexual or otherwise, from doing so. So why bother? You tell me.

If you don’t spend money on my wishlist, then go spend money on Mo‘s.

A lovely warm evening, punctuated by the smell of barbeques, the sound of birdsong, and the cries of children playing in gardens. Summer is great, especially early summer when everything is still lush and fresh and green, and hasn’t taken on the washed out dustiness of July and August, when the countryside seems a little tired and limp.
Pity this lovely evening was spoilt by having to go to college. I think I’ll head to the bar to make up for that.