Good times
Strange things happen when you find yourself on a Clarksonesque non-busy period. Last week I studiously ignored The Quiff at a recruitment fair masquerading as a tech event. I was hoping to impress a prospective employer and was wary of my arsehole persona being unmasked. And this week I reached out to an old friend for a reference and he offered me a free ticket to see Killing Joke at Leeds poly. Not a band I am over familiar with, though I do have hazy memories of jumping around the Phono pillar during the Eighties. They pulled in a loyal crowd of fifty-somethings. I congratulated myself on having more hair and less scars than most.
And you know that she's half crazy but that's why you want to be there.