A game of 2 halfs

Once upon a time this blog was filled with tales of nights out, drinking, flirting and gigs. Now it's filled with tales of kitchen porn and The White Company. It's so hard to keep my reckless middle aged streak at bay.

Readers, in a last ditch attempt to redress the balance, I shall regale you of my Saturday night out.


I went all the way up to Sheffield to see Kasabian. Incidentally the support band Modern Faces were brilliant, another great band singing in their own accents.

One up to the recycled teenager within.

I was right up at the front, 3rd row from the stage, not in the upstairs viewing area with seats, oh no, down with the moshers, close enough to see Tom Meigham's spots and be envious of his ring finger tattoo.

Two nil

I got soaking wet in beer and other peoples sweat

Three nil

I got moshed and bashed around mainly by topless men.

Four nil

I wasn't wearing sensible shoes

Five nil

I didn't leave before the end, I stayed to hear the last song, even though that meant having to pay for an extra 2-4 hours in the car park, yep an extra £4 for 5 minutes. In the clip coming up, I was much nearer the front, just in front of Tom the lead singer.

Six nil.



I went to bed on a different day to when I got up.

Seven nil

Oh yes, I've still got it, middle aged, pah...

I shan't mention the fact that I was cross that it cost extra to book online even though you could only book online, or that it cost £10 to post them even though there was no option to collect in person or that they charged for ticket insurance or some such other nonsense and that the total cost bore no relation to the advertised price. No indeed, for that would make me sound middle aged.

And I shall gloss over the fact that getting covered in sweat and beer made we very wet and quite chilly on the drive home.

We won't go into my feet hurting quite a bit as they weren't in their usual fitflops. In fact they suffered the podiatral equivalent of vertigo.

We shall also make light of my attempts to master the iPhone (yes, eventually I too, have been appletized) and you don't need/want to know that the reason I succumbed to said iPhone was because the buttons and text on the BlackBerry pearl were just too small in the end.

And you are most definitely better off without the knowledge that my best friends mum (who I love dearly but is a pensioner) was giving me tips on using said iPhone and said to me, in the most helpful manner, "if you turn it sideways it makes the keys bigger and easier to type"

Which would have been so much better if it hadn't been preceded with the query to my best friend asking "how can I reply to Wendy if she texts me?"

I think we'll call it a draw, you're not counting any more