Still suffering listening to Prefab Sprout from the 1980s. I can still remembering borrowing Swoon from Bakewell library and hearing it for the first time. Didn't get it at all. Didn't get it so much that had to play it all again straight away. Then again straight after. After the third listen I started to understand that this was a record that I would be listening to for a long, long time. Probably for the rest of my life. It still sounds like I'm hearing that first day. A sonic explosion from the past, where all your teenage ghosts come back to haunt...
A builder working next door [who already seems to spend a lot of time chatting on his phone outside the front door] has just asked if he can borrow a drill... I asked if his has broken. He said he doesn't have one. Isn't that like a taxi driver not having a car?
Watched three men on television last night, all of them begging for public votes. Not sure the title was very catchy though. Westminster's Got Talent has a much better ring to it.
Happily heading into town to have lunch with a work colleague. Things to discuss. Then back for friends' arrival to prepare for their third close funeral in two years. That has to be pushing it on the unlucky front.
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