I had too much to dream last night. Here I am, marooned in a motel on a gargantuan business park in remotest Dartford. It feels like the First Preliminary Qualifying Round of the War of the Worlds has just finished. Plucky underdog Earth has been trounced by the much-fancied planet XXor6on-D92. As a particularly fine specimen of earthling, I’ve been warehoused in some inter-galactic, prisoner-of-war holding camp, waiting to be shipped off for re-programming and redeployment to the crimson salt mines of BigDave, a remote moon of XXor6on-D92.… READ MORE.... …
Day: 26 April 2004
Things are getting worse. I set out on my 20 mile run yesterday morning, but decided to stop after less than a mile after an ache appeared in my right calf. It wasn’t a pull, just the start of a pain that I guessed would get worse. Instead of my long run, I pottered in the garden before going to the pub to get drunk and watch Arsenal beat Tottenham to take the Premiership.… READ MORE.... …