More domain invoices to settle first thing. For some reason I took took out a lot of services around the same time of the year.
Elsewhere and Evernote is fucked. The aggressive pop ups appear each time you open up a new note. This is the sign of a failing tech company that is about to go tits up. I need an alternative ASAP.
I played around a little with Obsidian. It was very promising. In its favour is that all files are stored locally.
I’ve heard nightmare stories of how centrally stored Evernote files have become corrupt. I like being in control of my content.
The search functionality on Obsidian is powerful. The UI is also impressive and easy to customise. I think I’ll make the leap in the morning.
I need to transfer over 2k+ files and add a few bookmarks. Plus sort out a way to export the encrypted content.
Once again I had to call Thames Water; once again I had to stop myself from giggling by having a conversation about a stopcock at 8am.
Thames is insistent there is a leak in the flat. There’s not. Well, not up here, anywhere. I’ve already explained to Thames that the stopcock access (stop it) is in the basement flat.
I tried to cheer myself up with a quick scroll through Forest Twitter.
That worked out well, Jase.
It’s been a bloody awful pre-season. The latest meltdown was the 5-0 defeat behind closed doors last night.
Forest Twitter is never a healthy place in which to exist. A ball has yet to be kicked in the new season, yet there is already calls of Cooper Out.
But yeah, it would be decent to have a ‘keeper ahead of Arsenal away next weekend.
I was delayed for the morning run. This was no bad thing. I managed to avoid the rush hour along Clap’ham Road.
There were some school kids playing cricket at 9am on the Common. This pleased me.
I’ve been away for two weeks. Already there are some new shop fronts down at the Clap’ham North side of the town. The pace of change around here is brutal.
Thankfully the beautiful mural on the Deep Level Shelter has yet to be tagged.
The run was decent - two minutes faster compared to the last time I attempted this back in June.
Album of the Day: SZA - Ctrl
A pleasant reprieve from some of the bullshit hip hop that has been served up here of late. Laser sharp rhythms with lyrics that actually represent.
The vocals are delivered in an understated way. You don’t need to shout your arse off about how you’re the fucking bomb. It gets wonderfully twisted in places. There’s a flow from start to finish. A great find.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐
To The Oval! For a full day on the piss with A and C!
I passed some fella on the short walk to SE11 who I thought was wearing a huge pair of AirPods. On closer inspection they were a huge pair of sideboards that had turned white.
Leicestershire were the opposition in the competition that the ECB has deliberately fucked up.
Surrey struggled to put out 11 players with the horrid Hundred swallowing up most of the squad. Leicestershire failed to wear a half decent kit. The green and red combo was bloody awful on the eye.
The 50 over game is my favourite format of cricket. I have many fond memories of the old Sunday League at Trent Bridge, and then lost days down at The Oval when the competition actually meant something.
There is a relaxed pace to this format. Teams get a chance to build an innings, take a breather, and then go for a late spurt as the overs come to an end. It makes for a very enjoyable experience if you’re boozing. No rush, take your time. ALL day.
Chin chin.
The horrid Hundred branding was visible in places around The Oval. I chose not to look. We decided on the Laker balcony - a change from the usual Peter May sun trap.
There was the soundtrack of a building site throughout the day. The development in the old gasometer looks like it is making progress.
Leicestershire made a decent stab of the run chase - a bloody decent stab. A bagful of cheapo Lidl BOOZE later, and woh! They’ve only got themselves over the line.
Good effort, Foxes.
I do miss the day night games that the 50 over format use to stage. We wont see the likes of them again at The Oval with the horrid Hundred.
We said our farewells to C, and then A and I staggered through the backstreets of SW8 back to the flat. We passed Joanna Lumley as we hit South Lambeth Road. I had to hold back from shouting out BLOODY GARDEN BRIDGE!
Track cycling and the World Champs from Glasgow helped to calm me down for the evening.
Chapeau!
