I feel that I have done the
joke about today being known around the world as the anniversary of The Sunday Alternative to death, (it started on 11th
September 2011) and I resisted the urge to post that flippant comment online.
By the time I arrived at Facebook this morning, a lot of people were posting
anniversary tributes, including friends in America, so I didn’t bother as it
would be just my luck for someone not to get the joke and go all pissy. It has
happened before after all.
At nine o’clock this evening I
was going to mark the occasion, but I forgot all about it as I was just
starting the final hour of NottinghamLIVE.
Darren has asked if I wanted to say or do something to mark the anniversary,
but I didn’t want to detract from the Nottingham element of the show.
I felt a lot better this week
than last week when I hadn’t had any sleep, and I like to think that my
contribution was far more useful than it had been on the last show. We welcomed
Andy Hunter (Hunting Helen) to perform in the live studio, and he provided a
cool interview and was willing to join in with the ‘sex with a cartoon
character’ question.
Before the show I nearly got
into an altercation with a driver who splashed through a puddle right next to
me. The selfish bastard must have seen that I was there, and I’m almost certain
that it is illegal to knowingly doing such a thing. Without thinking about my
next move, I turned round and threw my lighter at the car, hitting the side. I
also shouted something at them. The driver stopped the car and reversed towards
me and wound down the window. He didn’t get out of the car but I could see that
we were about equal build; luckily I hadn’t thrown my lighter at some
thick-necked nightclub bouncer. I replied to his question of what I had done,
and called him out for splashing me. Of course he said that he didn’t mean to
do it and that I shouldn’t have thrown a ‘missile’ at him. At this point he got
out of his car and noticed that I had scratched the passenger door. I’m quite
proud of how I handled the situation, although I realise that I shouldn’t have
let my anger get the better of me.
“You’ve scratched my car”
“I’ve got wet trousers, life’s
a shithouse”
The really annoying part of
this situation was that I was so wound up that I wanted a cigarette to calm
myself down, and I couldn’t because I didn’t have a lighter.
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