Saturday, June 11, 2005

So it's Fathers day next Sunday and the TV advertising is in full swing. A three CD Deep Purple box is the ideal gift apparently and to be honest I'm not knocking that as a concept. I always think of FD being a kinda Matt Monro or Max Bygraves vinyl album or slippers kinda day. Sometimes I forget that this is the 21st Century. We've made progress and the fact that you can pick up the new Cauldplay album with your muffins and Bran Flakes is supposed to underline this. Perhaps not. Another fact that's been widely reported this week is that practically every high street in the country has exactly the same shops. That'll be a revelation to anybody with eyes that's ever walked down one then, right? We are being bombarded with shite. Bloody big lumps of it. In every way imaginable. Even something as important as wiping out poverty has all these abysmal acts involved with it. Tis almost G8 time and the country is getting ready to party like it's 1999 to the most talent starved has-beens imaginable. Its not like any of them need the money that they'll undoubtedly make on the back of it. There are trains and boats and planes full of people headed for Edinburgh on July 6th apparently. The capital doesn't have enough toilet facilities on a regular day so it could get a tad stinky over there. It'll be Hogmanay Celebrations plus and probably pissing rain. And to get a ticket for the thing, you have to text. There is a provision for snail mail but the main mode of getting to see this terrible bill is to use your moby. I don't know how to do that so I can't go. Big shame I know, but I feel the sacrifice is worth it.

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