The audial essence of pure black evil. I write for The Independent & play in Scritti Politti. Used to be moderately funny once.
No longer the case. Unfollow.
Dad plus two umpires equals
Village cricket. My dad is PRESIDENT of Redbourn cricket club. Special event. He's giving out free wine.
I'll try posting that evocative depiction of Luton once again. It went wrong.
Laughing at TomTom's evocative depiction of Luton.
All hail the monochrome dishes of Palace Spice.
I'm in the "best beer garden in South London". Heh. Note, again, small putting green.
Just painted this. Note how I've captured the beautiful curvature of the satellite dish.
I know it looks like I'm watching golf, but I'm actually partying on the Copacobana beach in Rio.
Failed to complete this fast enough, but never mind.
This was my very first USB stick. It was originally part of a wristband, which I cut off. Capacity: a meagre 133Mb.
Christ, cheer up, for god's sake. I was after light-hearted TV entertainment.
I'm in Ham. Earlier I saw a man operate a remote control flying saucer thing. It was quite impressive.
Serious shit going down on the Aastha TV channel, Sky 849.
My local pub, and I say this with a slight quaver in my voice, has installed some kind of golf facility.
I've stumbled in on a band that sound like 1982 and not in a good way. Running home.
This is Keith. He's making a point.
I've started scrawling graffiti in my own flat. It's not a good sign, is it.
I love @mistersolo, minty polo.
Dream Themes have performed. I massively screwed up playing "Brookside". Embarrassing.
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