Album of the Day: Drive Like Jehu - Yank Crime
This felt raw, not to mention a little whiny. Dude is clearly ANGRY about something. I wasn’t able to tell what exactly from the lyrics. The bass has a nice Johnny Cash twang. That’s the best I can offer I’m afraid. It fizzles out in to guitar wank.
⭐ ⭐
My tax bill was settled for another year first thing on Tuesday morning.
Ouch.
It’s not been as painful as it has in previous year. I think I’m entering a downwards trajectory where it reduces each year looking ahead.
Kinda pay to play, etc.
Tickets for the University hustings for Harwich and North Essex were snaffled up. Election hustings are the new nightclubbing, right?
Don’t fancy yours much, mate.
I noted also the imminent arrival of the 60th Anniversary Conference of Sociology at Essex event. I feel a little let down that my old department has been renamed the Department of Sociology and Criminology.
The next task was to count down ahead of the 9am release of the PL fixtures for the new season. OH the excitement.
I was hoping for Ipswich away to kick us off. There’s bugger all chance of obtaining a ticket. But it would be a decent day out on the piss with the other Forest boys and girls.
It wasn’t to be. Bournemouth at home at the World Famous instead. It could have been much worse.
Forest’s run of games through until the end of November don’t look as daunting as they have in the past two years.
December is deadly.
A brief garden inspection followed. We discovered the first stag beetle of the season. The poor fella was trying to learn how to swim in the water butt. We cancelled the lesson and returned him to dry land.
I was keen to put in the lengths. I cycled off to the pool for a lunchtime dip.
The big old fella who is a habitual Lane Hog was occupying the fast lane. He wasn’t moving particularly fast, either. I was shunted out to the middle lane.
A young pup then joined the Lane Hog. The young pup had a sudden bust of not very stylish freestyle for a length, and then puffed and panted.
He soon fell into that familiar game that I refuse to play: race me for a length, then do the puffing and panting thing and stop swimming. Then do it all again when I touch down once again.
It’s all about stamina, young pup.
It wasn’t the best of swims for me. I had major goggle malfunctions. I had to stop three times to try and sort these out.
No such thing as a bad swim, etc.
The changing room floor was covered in talc.
Eww.
Talc is most odd.
A little more work, and then To the Table of Dreams!
I started off strong, but soon didn’t give a shit. That will explain the 6-1 defeat, Jase.
Oh dear.