I read a book, me

Two actually. Amazing. Doubly so.
Gianluca Vialli's The Italian Job, and Anthony H Wilson's 24 Hour Party People. Both strongly recommended.
If you like that sort of thing. Which obviously I do.
Meanwhile I am stuck in work hotel mode, with the hours dropping away from my life and into the toilet bowl of low grade despair. Twill be good to go home again. I mean clean sheets, expense account meals, free tv (and 30 channels, and least 1o in English...). Oh, how dull.

Nose back to the grindstone...
PS also fitted in the Serenity Directors commentary, and commentary on the extras. Great.
I appear to be in gushing mode. I should probably read more.

Space - the final sofa

So, we now have 3 new planets in the solar system. Which I find rather exciting.
With all that space, why can't we get the new sofa in the living room?

One for one

The Community Shield may not be the most important trophy of the year, but it is the first one and it belongs to the mighty Reds. Again. And more importantly we outplayed Chelski.
Though it still feels like the summer, and far too early to be thinking about football.

That said the breadcrumbs spent the week learning to ski. Which they can now do better than me - though I have only tried for 45 minutes. Oh, the humiliation. I think I better get used to being worse than them at things.

Lost

The breadcrumbs and Mrs Breadwinner are (separately) away just now.
Absence makes the heart grow... lost. My compass and timetable are gone. There is no routine, no company and a big old house. And of course too much work.
But luckily, the postman came before 7am so there was no danger of a lie in. I mean what would happen if people could sleep for more than 6 hours? Worlds would crumble etc.

Supernatural - quite derivative, but very good. Bit scary though. More Please.

Talking of scary, obviously Russell T Davies had the same frightening experience with Cybermen that I did. Probably the same episode. Would explain why they are so keen on ripping through plastic sheeting. So here is a picture that is deeply unsettling for me, and rather kitsch for anyone younger than me.

"Elvis didn't mean shit to me" - Chuck D. And neither did Syd Barrett to be honest.

Pablo Picasso

was never called an asshole.

Hola! (you see what I did there). Spanish is ... going. More lessons last night. I think that like Homer Simpson, I'm going to have to let some information out of my brain before I let anymore Spanish in. I was hoping to lose German, but it appears that instead I have lost "people I knew 1987 to 97".

I don't think I was keeping in touch anyhow.

Nothing can stop us now

As Saint Etienne sang.

Rain, rain, rain. People have already forgotten how hot it was last week. I on the other hand feel that I might be part rain god. As I traverse the M62 I bring the gift of rain wherever I go.
As someone said yesterday "welcome to a Manchester summer".

Antony H Wilson on the radio today reminding everyone that Manchester is indeed the centre of the Universe - as I was also told yesterday.

Maybe. Maybe not.

Try again, fail again

Fail Better.
Let's hope that the next revamp of Star Trek is up to the mark. JJ Abrams is doing pretty good so far on things. This one kind of has to work.
Though, I am just finishing off Enterprise and there were some pretty good things in the last series. Doesn't make up for the first 3 though.

And it is still hot. And still got a PPC. And a cat with a dodgy eye. And too much work.

Can you believe the football season starts next week in Scotland?

eye eye

Ai, ai
Aye, Aye
(Obscure reference to Tony Harrison, poet, there).

The Fluffy white killer (or should that be Smelly Grey Killer) has been fighting and needs to go to the Vet NOW. His eye is horribly swollen, and he of course is absent without prawns.

To join in the fun elder Breadcrumb sprayed perfume into his eye. Cue phone call to NHS direct with sonic accompanyment from 2 toddlers and one cat. I expect social services imminently.

"My future is not what is was" - buzzcocks

Bye bye Zizou

Hell of a way to go out. Certainly made an impression - on an Italian defender if no one else. Pity though. And a shame he didn't score with his header, win the cup and finish that way. Maybe he will in the Hollywood remake.

The DCD is still with us, mainly because the PPC is still if effing Bristol. Or somewhere. Not here that is for sure.

Mrs Breadwinner meanwhile is sunning herself, while I am sweltering. Oh, and still drowning not waving on the work front. Still weekend in Wales to look forward to. Oh crap.

Daleks vs Cybermen - pretty good for me.

96 million miles and closing

It's so hot in here - what are trying to hatch? - Magazine

I don't know. One little bit of occasional warmth and the whole country starts getting heat stroke. I mean, what is there to complain about in driving for 2 hours in the DCD with no air con to visit a Bitumen refinery? And then going to Liverpool to see people and missing them. And then driving 2 hours back? Best free sauna I ever had.

Great Sun headline - Wurst Nightmare; Germany go out of the World cup. And here's one I prepared earlier...

London no longer exists - the go-betweens

And roll on the big match on Saturday. Cybermen vs. Daleks. That is what we pay our license fees for!

It's over, yes it's over

so come play with me... (the weddoes).

Another competition, another penalty shoot out. Person I feel sorry for is Carra - scores, made to retake, saved. Ouch. So Portugal through, England out, and can Rooney ever play alongide Ronaldo again? The competition looks so winnable too, now that only Italy, German and France are left. So, go on France - a last turn for Zizou.

Valius knows how I feel.

Not only, but also - because some mindless ginks have broken a mirror off the DCD. And just a day after we agreed a price to trade it in for the PPC. Ouch. Do I have to fix it, or lose more money?

Let's all do the Crouch

So, we told Pink Breadcrumb that she was a good dancer. "Yes I am" she said, and demonstrated it. By doing Peter Crouch's robot dance. At which point Destroyer Breadcrumb joined in.

Does Crouchie realise how much of an idol he is to the the world's three year olds?

The Dead Car Driving (DCD) might be on the point of being replaced by a Purple People Carrier (PPC). Have mercy on my soul.

The only thing that keeps me going is that Alex James (the cool one from Blur) is going through the same process. His Independant column reveals (journalist speak there - did you spot it?) that he now drives an old Volvo. Its the twins effect. Have twins. Get a shit car thrown in free.

More songs about choclate and girls

"So here's more songs about chocolate and girls,
its not so easy knowing they'll be heard..." The Undertones.

So anyway, news from the cultural front - the Blessed St. Micheal is crocked. Crocked pretty bad Bruce. If he was a horse they would shoot him. Maybe next world cup, eh Mickey?
So we are reliant on the force of nature that is Stevie G to win us the World Cup. Nothing is impossible with Stevie G. But if the Army were as accurate as Frank Lampard when shooting we would all be speaking German. Or possibly Iraqi.

The trailer for Borat the Movie is online. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. I hope our resident East European does not see it. I mean Central European. Not East at all.

http://movies.yahoo.com/feature/borat.html;_ylt=Aqal9iWsc_u8o0PrG6cSal9fVXcA)http://movies.yahoo.com/feature/borat.html;_ylt=Aqal9iWsc_u8o0PrG6cSal9fVXcA

Also the proposal to reboot the Star Trek universe from JMS is linked from Aint it cool news. The Reboot Movie: Matt Damon as Kirk? Isn't that a bit fanboy? Fan that I am of Matt, would he stick with it? He didn't with Ripley, though he is with Bourne.

Still not working, still drowning with things to do. And people carrier to buy. Could my self-esteem get any lower?

update from the depths

This has got to stop. I have no time for anything, but sometime I find enough for the addiction.
Does it have to be a catastrophy for me to stop?
I still can't ask for help, though I should.

Oh god..

Meanwhile, England in the last 16 v Ecuador. Could be worse.

Everything's shiny

God I love Firefly. And now Serenity has arrived. If only it would in the real world.

the beast won't die

I'm waiting my sofa (no.1 one in a series of titles the Velvet underground considered then rejected - no. 2 is wait, wait, wait).

Meanwhile, I've postponed plans for the Ark because it has finally stopped raining. However the Dead Car Driving still does not have air con. I bought the bit. I took it to people to drill out the screws... to find that the muppets across the road broke a long bendy bit (technical term) when they were breaking the screws holding in the short bendy bit (another technical term - stop me if I go too fast for you).

What now? Dump the lump? Suffer if we ever have hot weather? Fork out more dosh on the car?

More to ponder.

Also meanwhile, Little & Large play for England B today - Owen and Crouch. Could be fun.

close but not no cigar

Sorry for Arsenal, but now they can understand that winning the European Cup is harder than it looks. And I'm sorry but Lehmann deserved to be sent off, and Barca's goals were not offside. And it was a dive that lead to Arsenal's goal. So all in all, justice served.

Meanwhile, rain is good for the grass - but getting on my nerves. As does the media going on about the Great British drought, when they mean the drought in London and the South East. Move up north guys.

Its a slug eat pansie world

Isn't it just?

Anyway, The mighty reds did my heart no good at all in winning the World, I mean FA cup. Why 3-3 and penalties again? At least this time was not farce, and Stevie G looks in fine form for the World Cup. Hard luck on West Ham.

The Streets were brilliant. Never went to Church... A massive Weak become Heroes. I never went to a rave, but now I think I get it.

Con air

The temperature is through the roof (ok, in double figures) and the bread mobile is being iffy on air con. So far 60 notes has made it tempermental, and given a mechanic the chance to suck air in through his teeth and give me a sympathetic look. Followed by the ordering of parts. Wish me luck

Meanwhile I am now travelling to the midlands by train - an interesting adventure in a heat wave. In theory I can work on the train.

Also meanwhile, Kid A has got mystery bites on his back. Small bitey things are taking pieces out of us. Fleabag obviously living up to his name. Or maybe it is from the toy rats the breadcrumbs insisted on at IKEA at the weekend. No, seriously. Cuddly rats. What are we teaching kids today? (End rant mode -Ed)

Grant is dead

Too young, too young.
If you don't know who he was, you should probably read more. OK. Half of the Go-Betweens. Aussie. 48. Poorer than he should have been. Gifted songwriter. And gone too soon.

I never properly met him, though I drank at the table next to him once in a pub.
If people ask me what I would rather do with my life, my default answer is "rhythm guitar player in the Go-Betweens". Which technically would have been Grant. Though I really meant just to help out.

I have no real idea if he was a great bloke, or a shit. I've not heard of anyone having a word against him, and in interviews he seemed a fairly good guy. But you can't tell. And now I never will.

But assuming he was just an average joe, with a bigger than average talent, he deserved a longer innings.

He made people happy. Not a bad epitaph. But living longer would have been better. I guess now we'll never hear that new album for this year.

Buy Horsebreaker Star, or Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express.

Bye Grant. Thanks