Boris Johnson & Wireless Festival
Morning. It's a bumper fun-packed edition of Angriest Man in Crouch End today. Huzzah!
I've just seen Boris Johnson on the way to work. He was walking his two little kids to school. If you think he's got blond hair, these kids are positively fluorescent. I was just lucky I was wearing sunglasses, otherwise I'd forever have their faces burnt on to my retinas, haunting me for eternity, or the rest of my life, whichever is shorter. Still, at least in these days of doubt and marital infidelity, there's no doubt over their paternity. Yay family values!
Went to the Wireless festival on Friday. Well, I say festival - it pales in comparison to Glastonbury, but hey, what are you going to do? - and the Dresden Dolls were very good, playing to an audience of about twelve people who'd sneaked off work early. I wouldn't like to meet the drummer in a dark street thought. Angry, angry young man. The scary clown face-paint didn't help either. Also saw New Order, who were very good, as ever, but I did notice that Bernard Sumner was wearing exactly the same t-shirt on Saturday when they played Glastonbury. Ugh.
[whisper - you don't think perhaps there might be too much coverage of Glastonbury in the media? Radio One haven't shut up about it for months, and if I read one more article about wellies or how to look chic in the mud I - might - kill - again. Just a thought.]
Got lots more I need to type from the weekend, but the pressure of occasionally needing to do some work prevents me at the moment. Lets have it tomorrow, eh?
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