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Salutations.

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Scubetti

Scubetti

I took a short walk today and had myself a good, sweaty rummage through various houses of vinyl. What I unearthed has thus far proved to be more than satisfactory. There’s no vinyl like old vinyl and there’s no old vinyl like charity shop vinyl. Come hither and examine my trove.

it’s refreshing enough to rip the lyrics straight out from under your brain and leave you singing yaourt

This is ‘Hot Hits 16’, pressed in 1973 by EMI as part of their Music For Pleasure series. It’s two sides of just really, really great and/or interesting covers of everything from ‘You’re So Vain’, through ‘The Jean Genie to ‘Roll Over Beethoven’. Again, they are covers and not the original artists but that isn’t always a bad thing and is often a refreshing thing. Oftentimes, it’s refreshing enough to rip the lyrics straight out from under your brain and leave you singing yaourt to even the most entrenched of ditties. Side one leads with the absolute sleeper, ‘Blockbuster’ (originally by The Sweet) and…well, I could keep coming up with reasons why you should personally devour it but in what world do I not buy a record with that cover? I’m experiencing the most powerful of urges to fish out my dive gear and sprint to the beach.

Image courtesy of  Sony Playstation

Image courtesy of Sony Playstation

this move has been parsed as the first brick out of the wall and the wall is coming down

Sony finally caved earlier this week and shall now allow all the peoples to play together, irrespective of their respective platforms of choice. I do not personally do Fortnite - primarily because I possess the twitch reflex of an old shoe in a locked cupboard - but from what I can gather, this move has been parsed as the first brick out of the wall and the wall is coming down. That might be a tad on the dramatic side and I’m okay with it. Is there a world in which all of our Destinies are one and we might shoot the living hades out of weird, alien scum together? A space wizard might perchance to dream.

Photo courtesy of  Il Blandford’s

Photo courtesy of Il Blandford’s

Il Blandford’s on Chiltern Street makes spaghetti far superior to that of your mother’s

I realise everyone has their own lunch place but mine is better than yours and I can prove it. The discrete kitchen at Il Blandford’s on Chiltern Street makes spaghetti far superior to that of your mother’s, father’s, whomever’s. My aim here is not to cause offence, you understand, it’s just a fact and I’m telling it straight. Their bolognese is the food preferred by all hangry wolves. Also, it’s one of those family run affairs which is liable to give you that warm, fuzzy ‘home’ vibe and is preferable right up until the point where they all go on holiday. Together. As. a. family and I am left without a place in which to lunch. This happened in August and I was reduced to eating twigs and old ham for a month.

Toss me a cigarette, I think there’s one in my raincoat.

JD - TACOCAT


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- Team Alchemist -

One Honey Snap

One Honey Snap

Horsey, horsy, horsie

Horsey, horsy, horsie