This is my 150th post apparently. Not too excited as I bet most of them, were I cast cast a glance in the rearview mirror, wouldn't be all that timeless. Lots of ones with "..." in the title. Quite a few describing drunken silliness. Loads of rants or almost no ranting, depending on how you look at it.
Two people have tried to give me cars. And I had to say no. Running costs and all that. London c'est tres cher. Am I a moron? I'm mulling that one. I mean, it might be expensive in the long run, but a free car is a free car. And two free cars? One's a Clio & one's a Corsa. It's not like I'm turning down a couple of Porsches. Still, I have a hunch I'll be bellowing "D'oh!" a la Homer sooner rather than later. - I should also say that the Corsa's "N" reg, and its gear box recently exploded (or whatever gear boxes do to fail triumphantly - it may not be spontanteous combustion) and as such didn't inspire a great deal of confidence. Of course, beggars can't be choosers.
A band wagon has pulled by and I have lept on, ears first. I really like the Arctic Monkeys. I Bet You Look Good On the Dancefloor is a wicked song. As is Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts. In fact, there are damn few that I don't like. Sadly, the entirety of the music buying public of this small island seem to have a similar reaction. They've sold their first album faster than the Road Runner with an ACME jet pack. Deservedly so.
February is here. Bit of a lazy month; only 28 days and all. I have a lot to do this month. Squeeze 31 days worth into the 28. Can it be done? I'll let you know on the first of March.
Oh - by the way, I'm hoping to have a completed first draft of my novel by the end of March. So 2 months from today.