Love and marriage

I'm back in the zone. Have no excuses. Well I've been spending my blogging time penning a best man speech for a wedding in Hampshire this weekend. And also spending time firing guns and ping pong balls on stag fun in Chichester, west Sussex. When I've not been doing that I've been listening to the wonderful new albums by Martha Wainwright and Joan As Police Woman. But normal service will be resumed very shortly, if only to bump that awful pic of Peter Perrett down the pecking order.

Reunion with rehab?

Watched the all-new, none-less pretentious Later With Jools Holland last night. The big question may have been, ooh, Estelle or Adele (and there was only one winner - Estelle had all the funk and didn't try and just present a masterclass in stretching a bad melody/concept over four minutes), but all me and Dee could think was WHAT THE BLUE BLAZES HAS HAPPENED TO THE SINGER FROM THE ONLY ONES??? (third left in this picture). He heliumed his way through Another Girl, Another Planet looking like a skeleton in shades. I seriously thought he'd buckle under the weight of his guitar. I love the Only Ones, but I'm not sure going on tour is the best thing for Peter Perrett.

Tourism? It's a dump

Spotted this sign on my travels around Grimsby. The idea of a tourist bureau staff, huddled behind this corrugated shutter, never seeing daylight, sharing a site with the council's municipal waste team, struck an Orwellian chord.