Feeling most tired today. After being shepherded around Stockholm Skavsta – aka the Palace of Chipböard, Sweden’s least finished airport – we finally took off near 10pm last night. Landing at Prestwick – Scotland’s jakiest and most Celtic-top-filled airport – meant another hour and a half before home, argh. Report to follow, probably.
Anyway, a gentle reminder that I’ll be twenty-seven on Friday, the grand old age of rock star death (after Morrison, Cobain, Joplin and Hendrix). Should you have nothing better to do on Saturday night, a firm handshake or a few drinks might be in order.
01-Mar-04 at 4:17 pm | Permalink
Pilotcan playing on your birthday… what more do you want?!