Some early morning Buzz action.
The backlog is building up. Finding time to bash out these pieces before they become dated is proving to be a bit of a struggle.
But it’s all important stuff.
That charmer Mike Urban often tries to push stories my way. If I don’t like them, I don’t touch them.
He’s cool with that.
It’s a decent way of working.
The proper paid for work was a little more rigid. I got my head down and put in the shifts.
Luncheon brought the escape to the gym.
I passed a chap on a tricycle along the Trail. It wasn’t an ironic Shoreditch twat type tricycle either.
I tired myself out cycling up the hill towards the gym. This wasn’t a good start.
The treadmill and some weights GRUNTING soon picked me up.
West Ham Wanker was banging on about his new fancy crystal deodorant in the gents. He genuinely believes that he is better than anyone else.
Betcha he votes Labour.
I passed the FIT looking @MrBoom running along the Trail once again on the bicycle ride back to base.
And then more work, more Gilles Peterson. The music suited the mood and weather
This email dropped later in the afternoon.
*so* tempted, Comrades.
Keep the Faith, etc.
Anna returned from a meeting in Norwich – I think?
She had tales of Green party posters lining every street.
Work was expected to come in.
WORK that gig economy, Jase.
And so I buggered off on the bicycle instead.
I took the Tourer out on the short Bobby George circuit. The countryside was bone dry. Ditto my back garden.
Anna’s legs were restless. It was a BEAUT of an Estuary Wilds evening.
And then on to the WTC Annual Meeting.
We didn’t hang around for long. I wanted to watch the fag end of the Essex Slappers Royal Ldn game.
And I wanted BOOZE.