Star Scrubber

Not much to report today other than to say what a star scrubber L is, no really. After a third wash, in some special stuff that probably escaped from Sellafield, my Survival Of The Fittest t-shirt finally came out white! Now I daren’t even sweat on it.

Then for an encore she gets down on her hands and knees on the kitchen floor and ... well, while I dispose of the dogs, she gets that clean as well. We now have sparkling tiles.

Disposing of the dogs is of course dog training but only for Doggo this week. They have though arranged a special one off session in a few weeks time exclusively for puppies. Not that we have one. My MD is a grown up boy now. Perhaps they'll take him anyway.

After all her endeavours, I can’t keep L awake to thank her. She’s beyond coffee and even turns down my offer of a 70%er, as in plain chocolate.

So instead I see if anyone else has reviewed Frank Turner’s Rock City gig. As usual ‘This Is Nottingham’ has a rubbish review sent in by someone. It’s a disgrace. People email reviews in and I think they just print the first one they get, no matter how naff it is. I could get home, knock one up in ten minutes and email it but then mine would be rubbish too. This chap’s review was so bad that someone else left a comment asking if the review had actually been to the gig.

So I’m going to post my own review underneath it, as I notice you’re allowed a very generous 5000 characters for comments. They'll regret that limit, I could do this after every gig I go to.