Down came the rain

A classic case, if ever there was one, of closing the barn door after the horse has bolted.

My daily wander out onto Victoria Street in search of lunchtime nourishment was taken in the face of dire utterings from a sodden boss about the weather. Consequently I bided my time and waited by the window, monitoring the rain. At the moment it slackened, I raced downstairs and out to purchase sarnies. All was well, a light sprinkling, no more.

Until I got outside Portland House, which is pretty much the half-way point. The heavens opened, and I could barely have got wetter if someone had turned a fire hose on me.

Drat and indeed, curses.

Suitably soggy, I am now the proud owner of a ten quid tote brolly. A thousand times bitten, eventually you get the message. To create a mixed metaphor, or strangled simile.

In the meantime, my damp jacket has the air of a dog’s basket about it, despite never having been near a dog or its basket. Why do wet jackets smell like that?

Down came the rain

A classic case, if ever there was one, of closing the barn door after the horse has bolted.

My daily wander out onto Victoria Street in search of lunchtime nourishment was taken in the face of dire utterings from a sodden boss about the weather. Consequently I bided my time and waited by the window, monitoring the rain. At the moment it slackened, I raced downstairs and out to purchase sarnies. All was well, a light sprinkling, no more.

Until I got outside Portland House, which is pretty much the half-way point. The heavens opened, and I could barely have got wetter if someone had turned a fire hose on me.

Drat and indeed, curses.

Suitably soggy, I am now the proud owner of a ten quid tote brolly. A thousand times bitten, eventually you get the message. To create a mixed metaphor, or strangled simile.

In the meantime, my damp jacket has the air of a dog’s basket about it, despite never having been near a dog or its basket. Why do wet jackets smell like that?

What's the French for 'Down wit da yoof?'

I know nothing about them, their website is impenetrable (maybe it’s just the office server acting the slippery eel), and I think they only have the one album out, but I quite like The Arcade Fire. I bought the album some time ago, having seen them on Later with Jools Holland, I added it to my Walkman, but only really gave it a single listen. Since the Walkman is generally on shuffle, I haven’t listened to them since.

So today I set the play mode to normal and shuffled through to deliberately listen to stuff that rarely slides through the cans. Funeral became that album, and I am enjoying it immensely.

The band remind me of someone, but I’m damned if I can recall who, but it’s more than one band, that’s for sure. Here and there, there are snatches that could be British Sea Power, but then they veer off on some other tack.

Who would have thought that I might like something produced by a bunch of Québecois? Well, Quebec residents, at least.

I am 'down' with the Montreal Indie scene. Who’da thunk?

What's the French for 'Down wit da yoof?'

I know nothing about them, their website is impenetrable (maybe it’s just the office server acting the slippery eel), and I think they only have the one album out, but I quite like The Arcade Fire. I bought the album some time ago, having seen them on Later with Jools Holland, I added it to my Walkman, but only really gave it a single listen. Since the Walkman is generally on shuffle, I haven’t listened to them since.

So today I set the play mode to normal and shuffled through to deliberately listen to stuff that rarely slides through the cans. Funeral became that album, and I am enjoying it immensely.

The band remind me of someone, but I’m damned if I can recall who, but it’s more than one band, that’s for sure. Here and there, there are snatches that could be British Sea Power, but then they veer off on some other tack.

Who would have thought that I might like something produced by a bunch of Québecois? Well, Quebec residents, at least.

I am 'down' with the Montreal Indie scene. Who’da thunk?