Spot the difference

Amazing how just standing next to an Anthony Worral Thompson barbecue can make you look exactly like him.

I connected with celebrity today

I say connected - I tweeted that Dave Gorman and Krishnan Guru-Murthy were having an argument, to which they both immediately replied to say there was nothing heated about their discussion and it was all very lovely and friendly. My god, the rush! I've finally been noticed by famous people! As J said, it is probably only a matter of time before they're my actual friends. Of course, the problem with the written word, as my pal Davey G pointed out, is that it's impossible to pick up tone at times. So, for instance, you don't know if I've written this passage with tongue planted in cheek, or if I'm serious.... Come to think of it, neither do I.

Dreaming spires

I was in Oxford for the first time on Sunday. Very pretty but the city centre seems to essentially be the University with a couple of shops filling the gaps. Took an open top bus tour - £11.50 per adult. It involved an hour driving round the centre of town having each college pointed out and...that was about it. Thank god we didn't pay for it. If you ever find yourself in the city at a loss of what to do, I highly recommend not taking a tour. Stare at a bush or something instead. Honestly, it's better value for money. You could, perhaps, play the exicitng game of "see how many black insects you can have crawling over your exposed skin at one time". I think I won that particular challenge - still no idea what they were though. Kind of ant-ish flies, if that makes sense - pretty skanky. They were probably some kind of useful CO2 absorbing creature that thrived on foppishness and intelligence, which is why I haven't noticed them around the hood before.

Bellissimo

Hard to believe that half of the year has flown past already, and yet here we are, almost at the end of June. This is the period of the year I have been looking forward to since last December - in a week's time we'll be in Palermo, full of pizza and Peroni, looking forward to the next week of driving our Fiat Panda to Enna, Etna and back. At least, it'd better be a Panda. You can't do a road trip in Italy in an Opel Corsa or Renault Clio. I will be expressing my displeasure unless we see a Fiat, capiche?

We're off to the great outdoors this weekend. You'd be surprised at how difficult it is to book somewhere for a weekend in the cotswolds at 24 hours notice in the middle of a heatwave (unless, unlike me, you're entirely realistic about the prospects of there being anywhere with availability), and as a result we're going to be camping in what essentially seems to be a field in the middle of nowhere - the only thing making it a campsite is that we're being charged £6 a night for pitching our tent there. But hey, we're there to get back to nature, right?

With this in mind, I have my readybed packed along with the tent - might try and hunt out a sleeping mask and some earplugs as well.... The reason we're heading to the Cotswolds rather than Kent as originally planned is the arrival of the aforementioned Isobel T. Had we not been able to make it over to see her this weekend it would have had to wait until our return from Italy - and the poor girl couldn't be expected to get through 3 weeks of her life without being introduced to her favourite uncle. I dunno, I must be getting broody in my old age.

Bring on the weekend. Going with our mates Euan & Laura - my initial enthusiasm is tempered by a 5 year gap since I last slept under canvas and the forecast of rain on Saturday. I'm well aware I may end up being Renton to Euan's Tommy...

Isobel Jane Townsend

The Cotswolds have a rightful place in the tourist folklore of this great nation, enticing holiday makers in their thousands each year to marvel at the picture postcard villages and rolling green hills.

It's not just humans, of course, who are not immune to the area's charms - storks, it would appear, are also quite taken with the area and make regular return visits.

That, I can only assume, is the reason behind my sister's single-handed (well, admittedly I think Chris had some influence) attempts to repopulate the rural communities of the West Country.

Not content with 3 perfect kids, Mr and Mrs Townsend decided you can't have too much of a good thing and verily, this morning Isobel Jane made her appearance, thus completing a happy and symmetrical family of two boys and two girls.

Congratulations to all concerned - can't wait to make your acquaintance lil lady....

Motivation's what you need

Given my Psychology degree and unfortunate tendency to think I am that little bit better at things than most other people, I'm surprised I haven't thought of a move into motivational speaking sooner. Life down the toilet? Skint? Lonely? Wondering where it all went wrong? For just £50 an hour, I will show you how you, too, can have a life just like mine.

I did my usual running route this evening but was undecided when I started whether to do the usual 5k or push on for 7 - it was hot, I was knackered, . I figured I'd just see how I felt when I passed the exit from the park for the first time.

I felt alright coming round to my potential homeward-bound point, but knew that if I decided to try for 7km it would involve running back up a big hill and round half the park again, before the kilometre of Brixton streets I needed to negotiate to get home.

It was at precisely this point, that I came up with an internal dialogue and subsequent challenge in my mind which was either:

a) motivational genius
b) an intriguing philosophical conundrum
c) the ramblings of a dehydrated mentallist who really should learn to keep things to himself more rather than plastering them all over the internet

"Will I try for 7km?"
"My legs feel a bit heavy."
"Yeah, but I'm not feeling too shabby apart from that"
"It is awfully hot though, and I've done quite well all things considered. Plus it's a big hill."
"Yeah, but I can maybe try to get as far up the hill as possible and see what happens....."

"The question is: Do I want to succeed at failing, or fail at succeeding?" (tm)

Succeed at failing?
Or fail at succeeding?

And with that, my friends, I gave my self a metaphorical slap on the arse, flicked my hair out of my eyes in a rakish sort of way, and drove my tired limbs round the corner and back up the hill again, triumphant imaginary orchestral music resounding in my ears.

Couldn't completely block out the voice in my head screaming "whaaaatt did you just say, ya prick?!" Worked though. Who's the cock now, eh?

Like I said, £50 an hour.

When technology catches up with me

I'm going to be renowned as a wit unseen since the days of Wilde. There's gold in my head, see, and I come up with amazing chat in my mind whilst out and about - the only problem is that I forget it by the time I come to type it. All I need is technology to advance to the stage where I can get stuff onto the internet just by thinking about it. Can't be more than 5 years away, surely?

You'll have to trust me about the content, obviously. Gold.

Sponsor me!

I've got my sponsorship page for the Cancer Research 10K set up via Justgiving (although it's actually hosted at run10ksponsorme.org). There's a handy link just to the left of the screen if you've half a mind to shift your eyes sideyways for a second.

Erstwhile training partner Craig has been strutting about our great nation's capital since his last run, shooting his mouth off about how he's a better athlete than me. I mean, proper disrespectin' me an' ting. He would probably deny this, but don't listen to him - I know what I've heard. Honest.

You wouldn't have expected your Mack Tattie to take that kind of boo'shih lying down and I can assure you, my friends, I have not turned the other cheek like a bee-atch.

A challenge was thus laid down, and that gauntlet duly picked up by the boy Pearce. In the mean, leafy, promenades of Hampton Court Palace on 27 September, it's on, baby.

This is a rallying cry! Team tattie, your tuber needs you! Sponsor me a couple of quid and in return I will crush my opponent, destroy his spirit, and string his trainers up from the castle gates as a warning to others who might think I am mellowing into middle age....... RRRRRRAAARRRRRR!!!!!!!

(err, PS , no offence Craig - we still cool for going to Bestival together, right?)

I've just found my Smashing Pumpkins Greatest Hits CD

I thought someone had nicked it. I didn't expect to be this pleased to find it again.

back to basics

yep, I've reverted to my original blog template. There wasn't really anything wrong with it, except it's perhaps a bit dated. But at least it fills the screen, and it gives me a bit of a warm nostalgic glow as it transports me back to the long hot summer of 2006.... It's coming up on 3 years now since I kicked off this blog, believe it or not. Who would have thought I'd still be clogging up the information superhighway at this point?

Merde

Mon station du jouer est morte.

Coventry City were about to win the Champions League n all.

At least I'm not a bad workman

I’ve been jogging (can’t really call it running and maintain a straight face) for 2 and a half years now, and over that time have accrued quite a bit of kit. Spot me trudging round Brockwell park of an evening, and I will most likely be decked out in my £70 Nike trainers, Nike+ iPod gizmo, armband for said iPod, special sports headphones, trainer socks, running shorts and a special runners t-shirt, no doubt commemorating one of the many 10Ks I have taken part in over the last 30 months.

All of which makes it all the more embarrassing when I get overtaken by the guy who does lap after lap in a free t-shirt advertising some sort of alcoholic beverage, combat shorts and a pair of battered, Velcro-fastened Golas.

There should be laws that you’re not allowed to take part in sport without the right sort of kit. Makes the more serious-minded of us look like we’re all style and no substance.

Florence and the Machine

Told you it was sporadic...

My initial uncontrollable spurt of excitement around "bands everyone else except me had probably heard of until last week" continues with Florence and the Machine.

The video is Dog Days - one of those songs that I loved as soon as I heard it. Certainly made trudging along Fenchurch Street surrounded by a paralysed Tube system more bearable this morning.

Casiokids

Starting a sporadic trawl through the bands playing at this year's Bestival who I have checked out and liked... Casiokids. Norwegian 80s-inspired electro? Or, as they describe it, Melodramatic Popular Song.

You read my mind....

I'm running this

The Cancer Research 10K on 27 September.

It's round Hampton Court which should make for a pretty stunning backdrop - reports that the final kilometre is through the maze are as yet unconfirmed. My erstwhile training partner, Craig (tm) and his recent race running exploits have inspired a flurry of activity both on the training front and the race entering side - although I'm not around for the majority of London races this summer. The Cancer Research races are all over Britain on various weekends - you can check them out here. Why not enter one? You know you should.

I'm currently attempting to wind Craig up to the point where he develops a Coe/Ovett-style rivalry with me - my maverick, devil-may-care, lolloping style contrasting with his driven, metronomic, well-groomed sterility. Hopefully if it works it will get us both fitter and allow us to combine our fundraising efforts - so watch out for begging emails and posts in the near future.

Spotify

I know I'm late to the party on this one, but oh my God! Spotify! Genius! I thought it sounded a bit rubbish when I heard about it - didn't realise it was extremely minimal on the advertising and full on the breadth and depth of available tunes. For the uninitiated, it's a free music service where you can listen to tracks by just about any artist on an Itunes style application - the only disadvantage being that you can't download anything and get an advert every 20 minutes or so (like commercial radio except all the tunes are great and there are no annoying groovy or wacky djs babbling away). I might even sign up for the premium (ad free) service if I start using it enough.

I assume that eventually (perhaps even now?) you'll be able to download a Spotify app for advanced phones such as the iPhone, meaning there is no need to actually buy any music anymore to listen to on the move? That sounds even less healthy for the industry than file-sharing, but is certainly a great way to spend a quiet Saturday night in and reignite my interest in music after my recent ambivalence. Spotify and Bestival - a stunning combination that has so far introduced me to the delights of Elbow, Friendly Fires and Casiokid in the past 24 hours. Like I said, somewhat late to the party.

I've spent the evening trying to catch Spotify out with the name of a band it's never heard of. So far I've only managed it once - with The Gyres - a band that you nor anyone else really needs to worry about, but a fine benchmark 'one minor localised hit wonder' outfit (all back in their factory jobs within a couple of years of being signed) with which to test just how all-encompassing such a database might be.

Officially my healthiest day since 1997

I haven't exercised regularly since my premature retirement from rugby in 1996.

I have been drinking with increasing regularity, if not amount per session, since around the same time.

I started smoking in 1997, and didn't look back until cutting it short abruptly at the end of February this year.

I can therefore say, having been for a 5km run tonight and skipped the lager in favour of a nice cup of tea, that today was the healthiest day of my life for the past 13 years.

I don't know whether to celebrate or cry myself to sleep.

Bestival 2009

This summer is shaping up to be pretty epic. The last couple have been quite poor but as the sun seems determined to hang about for a bit for the first time in 3 years, so the next 4 months are shaping up to be the best since 2006.

Back then it was all about the World Cup, Roskilde and Sweden, with the 10K at the end of it to round things off.

This time it's Sicily in less than a month, Bestival and another 10K, this time at the end of September. Mix in a few familial visits, some camping, a couple of weddings in Poland and J's graduation and it's looking like it could be legendary.

Finally booked a hire car this evening for Sicily - even persuaded J to drive (what with her 'driving on the right' ability) leaving me free to kick back in the passenger seat of the Panda with Peroni in hand. We're all sorted, apart from my lack of 'working out' meaning I'll be the pasty white guy on the beach in a t-shirt.

Roskilde in '06 was my first festival experience and I feckin' loved it - crazy Danish teens, dust storms, rivers of piss, Tuborg, death metal and all. Bestival will perhaps be a slightly more civilised affair, but I can't wait. It's got a pretty mental line up - headed by Massive Attack and Kraftwerk. I'm quite out of touch with current bands, so am gonna have a fair bit of revision to do between now and September to understand my Friendly Fires from my Florence and the Machine. There are the usual entertaining band names I haven't even heard of as well....

So what are you waiting for? Get yourself a ticket. The joys of 3 days on the Isle of Wight watching such luminaries as 'Dinosaur Pile Up', 'Ou Est Le Swimming Pool' and 'The Mummers' await!!!!

thoughts are with the passengers and families of the Air France airbus which has disappeared. I am an incredibly nervous flyer and normally only manage to remain calm by convincing myself these things only ever happen to remote internal flights in the likes of Indonesia. The news that there were so many different nationalities, including someone from Northern Ireland, on a flight on a reputable airline between two major world cities scares the shit out of me. Here's hoping for a miracle.

Bubbling Hot

The heatwave continues, and my frazzled scalp knows all about it. I spent most of the weekend baking in the sunshine - in the pub on Saturday and the park on Sunday. It was lovely - it's easy to forget how fantastic some unbroken sunshine can be for the soul.

I had a bit of an odd encounter on the way home on Saturday night, however. I was walking back to the flat alone and was just preparing to cross the main road when I became aware of a woman calling something in my direction. As I was already starting to cross the road (and after 6 years of ignoring crazies and beggars) I ignored her and kept walking. Blow me if she didn't follow me across the street, and I eventually stopped and turned round. "Yes?"

She looked at me really pleadingly and asked "Do you want business?". The poor cow had gone to all the effort of chasing me halfway down the street just on the off chance I was looking for a prostitute but was quite rubbish at it. Maybe she thought I was deaf. In any event, the very fact that she had to go to so much effort chasing a lost cause has since made me feel terrible about the disgust and venom on my face and in my voice as I spat "no!" back at her and hurried away. Fact is, I obviously didn't want 'business'. But there was no need for me to be so rude about it when she was obviously in such a bind that she had to cold call passers-by.

The knots my conscience ties itself in.