Thus closeth another weekend

As weekends go, neither a statue nor a pigeon.

Wolves mullahed Leicester City 4-1 in the FA Cup 4th round. Excellent result though of no doubt no interest to you, my only reader.

Of course, that result has to be counterbalanced by the 0-4 stuffing inflicted this evening on Shrewsbury Town by Chelsea. Not unexpected, though the magnitude of the defeat was depressing. Still, what can you really expect when a team that is 5th in the Premiership visits one which is 5th from bottom in Div 3? A consolation goal would have been nice.

Oh well.

When I have written this I am going to do worryingly electrical things with my TV, DVD player and cable box. It involves scart plugs, so it shouldn't be too onerous, but if this journal goes quiet for a few days and there is a smell of roasting around the modem, you know I might not have done the job quite as professionally as I would like.

On the other hand, I may gain super powers from an unlikely accident involving digital TV, electricity and the alarming number of dust bunnies down the back of the telly where I can't be arsed to dust. Unlikely, but stranger things have happened at sea.

Well, no, I suppose they haven't, but I can hope, can't I?

By they way, gentle reader. I wonder if you perchance have access to the lyric of the song The Lady Rachel, by Kevin Ayres? I realise that you probably haven't even heard of the bloke - he was a founder member of the Soft Machine, but you probably knew that. Contemporary of Syd Barrett, and one of the motive forces behind the Canterbury Sound. These days he's a bit of a useless drunk, unfortunately, but an entertaining cove in his day.

Anyway, I'd appreciate a sight of the lyric, if you could oblige? I can't find it on Google, which is a pain.

Excuse me a moment, I must go and stir the soup.

Back again and... phff, phff... ah there we are. Ciggy alight.

I am thinking of starting a letter-writing campaign to Sainsbury's. Their tinned tomatoes are startlingly expensive at 45p a tin. Not on, quoth I. There must be something I can boil to a pulp in the 10 -12p price bracket. Why is there never a price war when you really need one? At 45p a tin I expect to have a chance of finding a gold coin in the occasional tin. But no. Just squished tomatoes, juice and an unconscionable amount of pips.

Oh well.

Sundays, eh? Pah.

Thus closeth another weekend

As weekends go, neither a statue nor a pigeon.

Wolves mullahed Leicester City 4-1 in the FA Cup 4th round. Excellent result though of no doubt no interest to you, my only reader.

Of course, that result has to be counterbalanced by the 0-4 stuffing inflicted this evening on Shrewsbury Town by Chelsea. Not unexpected, though the magnitude of the defeat was depressing. Still, what can you really expect when a team that is 5th in the Premiership visits one which is 5th from bottom in Div 3? A consolation goal would have been nice.

Oh well.

When I have written this I am going to do worryingly electrical things with my TV, DVD player and cable box. It involves scart plugs, so it shouldn't be too onerous, but if this journal goes quiet for a few days and there is a smell of roasting around the modem, you know I might not have done the job quite as professionally as I would like.

On the other hand, I may gain super powers from an unlikely accident involving digital TV, electricity and the alarming number of dust bunnies down the back of the telly where I can't be arsed to dust. Unlikely, but stranger things have happened at sea.

Well, no, I suppose they haven't, but I can hope, can't I?

By they way, gentle reader. I wonder if you perchance have access to the lyric of the song The Lady Rachel, by Kevin Ayres? I realise that you probably haven't even heard of the bloke - he was a founder member of the Soft Machine, but you probably knew that. Contemporary of Syd Barrett, and one of the motive forces behind the Canterbury Sound. These days he's a bit of a useless drunk, unfortunately, but an entertaining cove in his day.

Anyway, I'd appreciate a sight of the lyric, if you could oblige? I can't find it on Google, which is a pain.

Excuse me a moment, I must go and stir the soup.

Back again and... phff, phff... ah there we are. Ciggy alight.

I am thinking of starting a letter-writing campaign to Sainsbury's. Their tinned tomatoes are startlingly expensive at 45p a tin. Not on, quoth I. There must be something I can boil to a pulp in the 10 -12p price bracket. Why is there never a price war when you really need one? At 45p a tin I expect to have a chance of finding a gold coin in the occasional tin. But no. Just squished tomatoes, juice and an unconscionable amount of pips.

Oh well.

Sundays, eh? Pah.