OH HAI there.

Guess who’s back…

The sudden demise of my hit and miss daily diary had some people asking a few questions.

Ta very much – I didn’t realise that there was an audience out there, as such.

Daniel Cruz Tizon compared my disapperance to Crossroads.

Classy, Mr Cruz Tizon.

Another email simply read: have you died?

I didn’t reply.

Never disappointment them, Jase.

But to be honest there was nothing too salacious about a balding late 40’s bloke not bashing out 400 or so words every evening.

In short: I was got by The Man.

Oh dear.

I didn’t intend for this to happen; in fact the school summer holiday was suppose to be just that – six weeks of a relative decline in my work output, and my days spent on the piss watching cricket.

But the work shifts elsewhere came-a-calling.

The telly client in particular had a rather lively summer with extra work available.

Don’t mind if I do, Mr telly client.

And so here we are as the late, late summer rays resist being put out by the fug of autumn, and I’m back at school, and back blogging.

It all feels a little like a holiday tbh.

Not a lot has changed over the past two months or so.

I sold off my entire wardrobe and bought a brand new one; Daisy continues to be MY GIRL, whilst Dotty shows no let up on her mission to wipe out the entire rodent population of North Essex.

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Oh how we LOVE Mr Owl. Yep

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The amazing Madam Dotty

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My Transpontine / Estuary Wilds movements continue, governed by time and tide [actually they are governed by work and cricket fixtures.]

Surrey have won the Championship and I have gone teetotal.

You absolute ARSE.

I had a bit of a four day bender mid-August with the Lancashire home match at The Oval.

Thirty-two hours or so spent in the company of the Peter May pissheads watching the ‘rrey was GLORIOUS. But it completely f-ed me up.

I haven’t opened a can of Carlsberg since. I’m celebrating my four week anniversary on Monday.

This will all change. The newly-crowned Surrey CHAMPIONS look like receiving another visit from me when the Essex slappers rock up at The Oval in a couple of weeks.

That Championship victory deserves to be toasted in the champagne manner in which it was achieved.

Elsewhere and I remain the Man of Routine.

Same as it ever was, etc.

Shall we continue where we left off before I was rudely interrupted by The Man?

Disclaimer: The Man is lurking over my shoulder, dangling the extra work shifts as we slip into the autumn colours freak show.

Plus I might die – and you most definitely won’t receive an email response, fella.

Friday morning started with the HAPPY news of the Coldharbour ward by-election result.

Have a good one, etc.

There was noting unexpected. Progress pissed their pants in Lambeth, afraid that the Greens would embarrass them once again.

The campaign over the past month or so has been notable for the absence of any the Momentum foot soldiers.

Fancy that.

I bashed out the Buzz piece and had it up before the first 6:30am work shift of the day.

Labour win Lambeth Council Coldharbour ward by-election with turnout a poxy 24%

James Holden had a #LateJunction mix tape.

Trance was very much the mood music for the morning. I walked around in a daze as I munched on the Bran Flakes.

I finally managed to publish the SE21 school content from the start of the week.


I still need to get the work flow stream-lined here, but I don’t know where to start. It’s essentially two schools in one. It’s bloody hard work, but I usually come out GRINNING.

Alexa: play Charles Lloyd Vanished Gardens.

The cover of Hendrix’s Angel is possibly the most beautiful thing that you have heard this year.

Alexa: play Jonathan Jeremiah Good Day.

Alexa: stop.

Sorry, it ‘aint working for me.

Transpontine / Estuary Wilds movements for the next week or so were plotted. It looks like I have managed to bolt on another end of season Oval appearance after some school work.


Some phone calls about the South Lambeth Road gutter followed.

I think that I’ve just about got there – and yep, I was saying the same thing before the summer sabbatical.

I cycled off to the gym.

The Muddy Banks REEKED of shit.

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The North Essex wind blowed downstream and right up my nostrils.


It was a hit and run gym session with more work shifts over luncheon.

I forgot to pack a clean pair of Y-fronts, resulting in a Commando bicycle ride back to base.

Work clients chopped and changed all afternoon. Some Gilles Peterson and D&B catch up kept me going.

I had some work training with a US colleague early evening.

It finished in time to have half an hour light left in the day to tackle the bamboo shoots that have got a little out of hand over the summer.

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Back on the Cane Gang. SEE YA! 🍃🍂

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Back on the Cane Gang, etc.

Some more work shifts, plus a bit of the Birmingham Vs West Brom match.

Plus ca change, Comrades.

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