… revelled in the musical might of Vampire Weekend live at the Hoxton Bar and Grill. I don’t know the last time I felt so giddy about a new band. Maybe it’s.. well… ahem.. never… or at least not this millennium. They write songs about public transport and punctuation. Hell, I even had to look up what a Mansard Roof is. Illuminating, inspiring and exciting. And, as you can see, I agree: ‘Who gives a fuck about an Oxford Comma?â€
… moved house. Or rather flat. Never a pleasure. It’s astonishing what gets dredged up as you pack up all your worldly goods. Memories, cards, receipts, photos, trinkets, a thousand yesterdays.
…bought a bedstead, a mattress, a sofa, a rug bigger than my room at university and so much household stuff. How much longer can I keep pretending that I’m not a grown up? But more importantly, how can Asda sell 18 glasses (and pretty good vessels they are too) for £2.45?
… got reet browned off with the BBC iPlayer. I only want to watch Torchwood and (despite the hype) it remains entirely missable: I have so far seen not one episode entirely. Perhaps the soviets at the beeb could spend a bit more on development and rather less on marketing? Despite the iPlayer’s crapulous playability, I remain resolute: no tellybox at Palazzo Wilson. (At least until the new series of Doctor Who comes on when, I confess, I may wobble and buy a flipping huge flat-screen.) And, for reference: amazingly, I do have a TV Licence.
… been gripped by the US Presidential Primaries. It’s like crack for this political animal. And, for the record, I’m backing Hillary.
… been mistaken, more than once, for Phillip Seymour Hoffman. One woman even asked for my, or rather his, autograph.
..been stonewalled with impressive resolve and rigidity. Shame on you (know who you are).
The fourth episode of Torchwood is worth the effort (though I completely agree with you about 1-3). But they’ve now taken Rhys beyond just Boring Boyfriend and it was rather good.
Did you give an autograph? And if so, Dan’s or PSH’s?
To be fair, it’s the iPlayer’s fault that I’ve missed Torchwood, not Torchwood’s.
I didn’t. When I came clean, she seemed less interested in my scribble.
Forget Vampire Weekend – listen to Glasvegas
Can’t I listen to both? Thanks for the tip.
Re. Pip Hoffman : It’s better than being mistaken for James Nesbitt.
Do you get mistaken for Nesbitt? Oh lord. you look nothing like him and you’re much taller than the diminutive Ulsterman.
PSH: I shouldn’t complain really. For years people thought I was Boris Johnson. This is better.
I did. Twice!
And after a few months’ diet of pies and beer, I was once told I looked like John Travolta. That was a sleepless night.
I would have gone with Boris Johnson, and encouraged people by cycling around spouting gibberish.
Hoxton twat
Thanks J A Williams: so far from the truth. ;o)
The VW gig was the first time I’ve been out in Hoxton, in, well, at least five years. More of a pint of bitter man south of the river me.
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