Listening to: a blast from the distant past
On second thoughts: all that screaming at the end is a bit much, so. . .
Now listening to: this performance of the best album of 2008 and (in the pig "farmer's" humble opinion) one of the best albums in many many years.
There are times when watching/listening to the weather forecast on our esteemed national broadcasting corporation and I can't help but feel like I'm not invited to join in.
Polar bears are stalking the streets of west London, mammoths have appeared in Berkshire, Wales expect to win several golds at the next Winter Olympics - the ice age is upon us (well, you anyway).
As usual, the weather forecast from the Blue Peter garden didn't seem to include us in the Northern Isles where it has been dry, if a bit parky - extra jumper time. No snow, not even a little bit. They've had some snow over in Scotland, but it's February.
Is it true that the buses in London ground to a halt? That's absolutely staggering. Hell's teeth! Surely it's enough of reason for that Tory clown* to resign.
I suppose the snow was a good news story, but the London media didn't half overdo it. It's not as if we're short of news, what with us being up to our ears in two wars and the economy having done a Bob Maxwell off the deck of its private yacht taking our pensions with it.
It never ceases to amaze me that the more airtime is made available for news, the fewer stories seem to be covered - or is this just me?
God! Listen to me. What a miserable old sod I am at times. "If you can't say anything nice. . . "
* that's not a tautology. Tory arsehole is.
By the way, Mrs Pig "Farmer" made it back to Orkney safe and sound and I was let off the hook on the pork front when someone rang to reduce their order. Hurrah!
And isn't that Elbow performance a cracker? I haven't enjoyed music so much in ages.