London 0 Hull 4

In 1986, this album came out, and everybody thought, ooh, those pranksters The Housemartins with their crazy offbeam album title titters. To imagine such a scoreline was as laughable as Paul Heaton's cream cardy. I loved the sentiment (and the jangly guitar pop sugared with some jaunty Marxism) but when I saw my first Tigers game in 2003, at home to Kidderminster, the possibilty of even League One football seemed a long way off. So after wins against the 'ammers, the Spurs, the 'snel and, er, the Fulham, it really is the ideal time to celebrate the city at the end of the line.

An old boiler

We've been without hot water for a week now due to our snazzyboiler* going on the blink as soon as we dared to think about turning it on. A plumber was duly called last Friday. "S'a problem with the heat exchange", he says, and we'll need a new one. So the boiler makers are informed, as luckily it's just within warranty. An appointment is made for this coming Friday. I tell them that the heat exchange is going to need replacing, just so the engineer can bring a new one on Friday. "We won't do that I'm afraid", says disinterested of Tamworth. "Our engineer will need to do his own tests... if it is the heat exchange has gone it'll take a week to order and then we'll have to book you in for it to be fitted.." "But I'm telling you what's wrong with it." "Are YOU a plumber, sir?". The upshot - no fancy bubbles for this newlywed for the whole of October.

LISTENING: Richard Thompson (his really depressed beardy early stuff - genius), Elbow, Fleet Foxes (when I was readying myself for marriage, their album finally clicked with me - beautiful soundtrack to all these autumnal colours)

READING: The amazing Homicide by Wire creator David Simon. Proper journalism and a happy way to ease the withdrawal symptoms; What Is The What - Dave Eggers; The Black Dahlia - James Ellroy

Spare a thought ...

... for the poor couples who had to stay at one of Barton's less salubrious establishments on the weekend of our wedding. This is an email from a friend who stayed at the pub (let's call it the George), just in case any of you were thinking it was the official Michelin review lifted straight from t'guidebook.

The "George" was an experience I hope not to be repeating again in this lifetime....it was straight out of a Peter kay sketch. I mean I have stayed in some grotty places in my time - but that takes the biscuit. Including my travels round Africa. On the plus side, the room was large, the breakfast decent and the water was hot. On the minus side, the beds were saggy, I've thrown cleaner carpets in the skip, the bathroom contained a set of SIO (stains of indeterminate origin), and best of all, you could smell the fag smoke from the staff/customers coming up the stairway and under the bedroom door at all times of the day and night. Pete reported the car park was covered in broken glass when he went down (he left early as he was going to the football). Staff Highlights: miserable landlord about to go bankrupt. Toothless chainsmoking wizened old bloke who seemed to do all the cooking and general work. Fat chav single mum fagging it in the back lobby over the kid's buggy - role unknown - maybe some of kind of maitre d'???!! Anyway, it was OK as we were so knackered we just went stright to sleep once we hit the pillow, despite the efforts of Mick's disco.
Here's a tip for you - if it doesn't work out with Danielle you can be sure of pulling a stunna on a Friday night down there! Anyway, it was all hilairious and you would have found it highly amusing...but only because it was only for one night!!

President Boosh

Over to Sheffield's wonderful City Hall for an evening with the Mighty Boosh. Not the biggest fan of season three, crack fox aside, I have to say that the show, all honey monster decapitation, nanageddon space rock wig outs and the 'Itcher, was excellent. Our house has been a Boosh free zone since the last series ended, so I liked the Mighty Boosh band and thought the material was spangly and not too flabby.

Cut Price?

Saw a fat woman in departures, coming to the end of a Katie Price novel. It seemed to be a good fit for her features. But when she got to the end, she waltzed over to an airport bin and slung it in. Didn't even leave it for some poor Cuban to read. Either it was a selfless act to stop people from reading such twaddle, or this woman disposes of all the books she's read. All two of them, judging by her disposition, but a thought-provoker, none the less.

Not in Cleethorpes ...

Honeymoon Reading

The most amazing day ever

Forgive me for using the blog for such purposes, but our wedding was so amazing - and the people who were there were what really did it for us! See if you can spot bloggers StoneFee and Dave Windass in the assembled shot! The astute will notice that I've included links to their reportage blogs on the big day here. So overwhelmed by it all still, and always will be, really, truly. Sterling show from our rookie Priest, a great plot arc featuring an ill child, a late arrival by a nonogenarian and a blowout on the A1, a superb organist with comedy beard who wouldn't be out of place on Phoenix Nights, some interesting singing, awesome food, drink and disco - all in all, truly amazing. But it was these guys what done it for me!