Thursday, January 26, 2006

It's good but it's not right

Much like many a soft-rock gig-goer in late Eighties West Germany, I can hear the wind of change. Luckily it's not the frigging Scorpions I'm listening to. Four weeks into the New Year and I think my resolution is becoming clear. I'm looking for a job and home in Aberystwyth. After two interviews in the last couple of weeks, I know I'm not unemployable or shackled to my current employers. Basically, I know my shit. I think this has opened my eyes to the possibilities. Game on!

In other news: my original New Year's resolution is not going too well. I've not eaten anything vaguely weird yet. Oh yeah, I think I'm in love with some bird I've seen on Flickr. I'm not saying anymore because frankly it's fucking weird. At least I'm not stalking... yet. I don't know if the Wispa campaign will work, the response was less than overwhelming, but even Che Guavara started somewhere. At least my campaigning is less stomache-churning than pube-headed Coldplay frontman Chris Twattin.

The gentrification of football continues with the frankly ludicrous decision to fine Gary Neville, not for the understandable reason of him being a ratty faced oik, but for the dreadful crime of celebrating a last-gasp win against their fiercest rivals. The mind boggles, it really does. I can see the day when the football authorities drives all but the prawn-buttie types away. But would they be bothered? Not so baffling was the big news about the managerial casualty. No, not Sven. Bernard McNally of course. AFC Telford couldn't be closer to the bottom if they were dancing lambada with a randy Italian bloke (just me then?). Hopefully they'll stay up, and keep the big crowds (which are still among the highest in non-league, despite being two levels lower than the Conference). There should be a big crowd on Saturday, I might take some piccies.