Happy Sunday all. The weather is fine and sunny in Hertfordshire today and I’ve been for a pre-tennis/football final walk 🥾
The barista yelled ‘Mi’lady!’ and for a split second I thought I’d time-traveled to a medieval Starbucks. Turns out they just butchered ‘Melonie.’
Hope everyone’s Saturday’s are going well. I’m just back from a spooky July walk and bean-covered burger 🥾🍔
Modern life feels like death by a thousand £9.99 subscriptions.
I mean, doesn’t the word ‘buy’ imply you get to keep it?
Captcha: ‘Select all stairs.’ Brain: ‘What defines a stair?’ Suddenly, I’m questioning reality.
The longest title for a film that I’ve come across.
The Queen’s final Christmas speech before she died is listed as the “series finale” on TheTVDB, ha.
I’m flattered Hozier wants my phone number. But I shouldn’t have to give it to him just so I can get emails about his next tour dates.
I propose we bring back the 19th century tea dance. It’s so much better than a night club or bar. It’s held nice and early, from 4 to 7pm. Often in a lovely garden. Not a DJ in sight, just a lovely live string band. There’s alcohol yes, but also tea, coffee, sandwiches and cakes. Perfection.