I met up a pal who’s in the trade for lunch today, and he or she told me stuff about one beloved UK brand that made the frothy coffee that I’d just taken a mouthful of come out of my nose. There will be much joy, much joy, in the middle distance. It’s so exciting, I just have to tell someone, phone me.
But now, I am finishing packing. The list will be filled in when I get back, I’m taking test kit so I’ve no idea what I’m using yet, it’ll be decisions made in the car-park most likely.
Tim the photographer is in Morvich right now and it’s raining, but all the weather sites are singing from the same album insert with the lyrics on one side and the t-shirt offer cut-out order form on the other. I always preferred when the t-shirt offer was on a separate insert, I was more likely to send for it then. Although, the 12″ blue card insert that was in Judas Priest’s Stained Class album is still intact, and looking at the minimal classy design, I probably should have ordered one. I wish they hadn’t reformed.
Sunshine the lyrics sing, with the wind playing hard on double bass drums tomorrow for a while. That means no cowboy hat, but shades and suncream instead.
Am I tempting fate here with this weather talk? I don’t get a shit, I’m looking forward to this one and can’t wait to get plimsole on mountain.
This trip is being done for many reasons, but the flake sticking out of the top of the sundae of confusion is my simple desire to stand on the top of Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan again and enjoy it properly with a big grin on my coupon.
Aye, I’ll leave the miserable bastard at home this time. He’s a dick.