London and Shitty Estate Agents It was no thanks to the idiot(s) at the estate agents, but we finally got into our new flat yesterday. And, following Sal’s spur of the moment decision to hire a large transit van yesterday, it’s now full of stuff too.

“This is a staff announcement: Would Santa Claus please return to his grotto. Santa Claus to his grotto please…” (overheard in Southport dept. store) Merry Christmas all…

Rejecting once again the living hell that is the West Coast Main line on a Friday evening, I chose to return home to Southport for Christmas by plane, just like I did last year. Rather predictably, it took me longer to get from work to Heathrow than it did to get from Heathrow to Manchester, ...

Moving, just keep moving… This lunchtime, after much queueing and some rigmarole in the bank, we finally obtained the necessary funds in the appropriate form (your handy choice, from the estate Agent that likes to say “no, you can’t write us a cheque”, of either a wad of used fivers or an IOU scrawled in ...

Middle-aged Telegraph Reader I’m a worried man. Yesterday, I returned home to find two items of junk mail waiting for me. Now normally I would just put this stuff in the bin and think no more of it, but I was disturbed by the type of people who have started writing to me. One letter ...

It’s got nothing to do with your Vorsprung durch technic, you know Shrugging off the nasty cold that’s been bugging me ever since returning home, but which thankfully seems to be on its way now, I headed over to the Brixton Academy last night to see Blur for the second time this year. On the ...

…Vulture Street, which was named after the street in Brisbane where the album was cut… BBQs attended 4, BBQs assembled 1, beautiful sunsets 2, hot air balloon trips 1, rainy days 1, sunny days at least 15, loops of Qantas radio channel 7 on which I heard the same 3 Powderfinger/Alex Lloyd songs at least ...