After a couple of years of blogging I sometimes feel like an old hand these days. It's a nice comfortable and warming sensation, rather like when you pee in the shower. It means that I feel a certain sense of ease, of enjoying the view rather than worrying about the journey and how to drive the car.
It also means that I can chuck out a quick post like this, talking about nothing specific, or a bit of rubbish and knowing that a couple of people may just read it anyway, hopefully chuckling along quietly in the background with me.
I'm back in London as you know, the weather here's a treat and the city's looking sexy. I had my first band practice last night with the funksters, who I'm leaving. Yes, I told them I was leaving a few weeks ago and am now working my notice. We've a couple of gigs coming up and then I'm off. I might blog about it at some point, maybe not.
But, one of my highlights of the last forty eight hours has been seeing the following search phrase that ended up at my blog:
"Bury dead giraffe"
Was it an errant zoo keeper who had accidentally killed one of his giraffes and was looking to quickly hide the evidence?
Maybe he was going to use my advice given in the burying a dead cat post, perhaps with a much longer grave and more stones.
Why, why on earth would someone have been searching for those words?
Tell me please.
Plates, Pubs and Pigs.
5 days ago