The Tweedinator.

Photo from Izzy's Christening a few weeks ago - Ian insisted I try out his wrap around shades - he then called me "The Tweedinator" and took the photo above.

My cheapie Morrison's bought Crown DAB radio died this morning; normally I don't actually switch it off, I just press the "Mute" button, but last night I thought I would do the right thing and properly switch it off. The result this morning was that the DAB side or the radio had competely fried when I turned it on - the FM section still works, but that was always the weaker side of the rig. Horrified at the potential lack of Planet Rock I decided that I had better go out and buy a replacement, as I had uncharacteristically lost the receipt for the Crown box.

Anyway, I opted for a Magic Box DAB mini shelf radio with external speakers - it certainly has a better bass response than the old radio.

Cyclists. A self righteous, self centred bunch of banana headed gits with a death wish more like. Don't get me wrong, I am certainly not damning all people with bicycles - just those who think they own both the road and the pavement and use both with apparent impunity (legal or not), pay no excise duty or insurance, think traffic lights don't apply to them and generally act as a bunch of self elected neo fascists. And what is it with those stupid helmets? - You look like a twonk and they offer bugger all real protection if you end up in an accident - hit a bus and your head will still end up squashed like an over ripe tomato, banana head dress or not - as I witnessed on Blackfriars Bridge last year. When I was a kid helmets were unheard of, but no - one ended up with anything worse than a grazed knee. The Health & Safety KGB at their tricks again.

A very satisfying sight greeted me as I walked through Morrison's car park on the way back from my DAB radio shopping trip to Bexleyheath this afternoon; the local Constabulary had an area patrol car and a riot control van parked in the road adjacent to the RMC Aggregates builders' yard on the river front - a group of around ten weasel faced Chavs had been caught breaking into the premesis. Despite the fact the youngest was about eleven, the whole lot of them were handcuffed and were being searched for weapons, drugs and stolen goods - with some luck they would then be taken around the back for a jolly good kicking. Hope springs eternal...