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I had a dream last night in which I was a DJ (‘DJ’ such as the Fats Boy Slim as opposed to the late, and much missed, John Peel) and not having had any aspirations to carry on in such a baffling manner, it took me by surprise when I was informed ‘I was on.’ by a young Cherie Lunghi. Despite not having a clue what I was doing I was rather good, actually, it was a positive experience, and take it from me, a piece of piss.

My intention to have a clean night in front of the box was somewhat compromised, not to the point of silliness I hasten to add. I had a couple of hastily arranged pints with Frank at the local, it was a lovely day yesterday and it seemed a shame to waste the clement, albeit crepuscular, evening (it’s dark by 7.30 already) but fulfilled my Wire duties from 9pm to midnight following a luxury bath (I was completely naked!).

My regular reader will be pleased to know that I’ve fully recovered from ‘Curry Wednesday,’ I’m back on 3’s and 4’s and feeling prepared for what the weekend has to offer. I’ve decided to avoid the disgusting Friday List this week, it’ll make the occasional appearance but, with regard to an earlier mention of Mr. Peel, here is a typically eccentric offing from The Fall.

Have a nice weekend.