Meeting with dodgy blokes to receive a bundle of used £20 notes is not how I usually spend my lunchtime. Cash, to me, is something that usually only exists in cyberspace - numbers
"Fear and Loathing in Middle England" was the title of my online journal between July 1998 and April 1999. This was before "blogging" and RSS were things, and journals were generally stumbled upon via the Open Pages and Chapter Two web rings.
Long 450 miles drive home. We stopped off in Inverness for some lunch, and it really impressed me (the city, I mean, not the sandwich - although that was OK too). It seemed
"You seem to be going awfully fast," said the perspiring southern lady on the footpath to Stac Pollaidh, "would you pull me up?" I smiled politely, but in reality I was both shocked
Anakin rock (uh-huh). The female vocalist wailed like a cross between Courtney Love, Manda Rin and Siousie Sioux whilst the band backed her up with a big sound resembling a meeting of Mogwai
I first wandered up the long track toward Beinn Dearg a year ago, when Daffy insisted we leave it at an early stage and clamber up through snow-covered heather onto a large rounded