A Sunday made up of delightful bits of random:
- a late start, following last night's Tin Tin wrap party on a boat (yes, that means the movie is almost done);
- finishing a travel article on Dubai I've been dragging the chain on for ages. Nice to finally hit the 'send' button;
- calorific pancakes on Courtenay Place for lunch. I feel smugly justified though, because yesterday I went for a long run;
- Cold Chisel on high rotation. These Aussie rockers formed the soundtrack to much of my teenage years and when I was in the UK I scored their CD on Amazon. Used to revel in the delicious pleasure of walking up Bristol's inappropriately named Whiteladies Road rocking out to music from another time and place. In a previous life in London I also recall serenading total strangers on the Tube to Khe Sanh after a Sunday session at the Church (the drinking, not the religious one).
For some odd reason, my iPod's shuffle function is currently addicted to Cold Chisel - so while slaving over my travel piece, I've heard this song about six times. Is there such a thing as too much Cold Chisel?
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