The following is an account of true events: the names of those involved have been changed (including the dog’s).
My introduction to the Great Edgar Broughton started in a pub said to have once been frequented by highwayman Dick Turpin.
Aged fourteen, me and a couple of mates found we could get served in the Schooner, located—though no longer there—where Streatham High Road meets Hermitage Lane.
Re July 1st with mention of one event taking place previously:
I went to get the vaccine on Monday.
Before receiving the jab there was all sorts of questions to answer and information to be given.
Like the possibility of some side of eggs
Think of all the millions Noddy Holder has amassed thanks alone to the fact ‘It’s Christmas’ that he announced loudly, and not something considered far less fun, like, ‘It’s Morning’ or It’s Housework’ Continue reading
Neighbour knocked on front door earlier, thought I was M. Offer to go get M, but no, want message relayed. They aren’t social distancing from door, which I already have Continue reading
The story of how I found out one of the U.K.’s greatest recording studio’s best kept secrets; something any music tourist would probably prefer not know. Continue reading
Flags and why the British one so often drives me nuts.
There’s something wrong with what we feed our cats. It isn’t secretly added or hidden from the ingredients. It’s right there on the label staring us in the face, but apparently we never see it.
In 2019 while visiting an animal sanctuary in the UK, I found myself faced with hypocrisy of monumental proportions. Continue reading
Here’s a little something you might like to know about Google Chrome. Continue reading
