Every time I comb my hair

...thoughts of you get in my eyes

Hello, good evening and bollocks. I was reminded of Roger Mellie as I watched the Chalmers cortege thing on Friday night go up Aschebergsgatan...student coonts, hahaha.
The long weekend is nearly over. Spurs got a precarious win with another clean sheet at home. If they can keep another in the last home match it'll be their best ever year defensively at home in terms of goals conceded. How did that happen after the dreadful start to the year, undrar jag? White Hart Lane is a veritable fortress. Roll on next season. I hope. Snigger.
Now I'm drinking a Mariestad in front of "The Phantom" with the nippers. Whatever happened to Billy Zane? I suppose his obvious lack of talent was a big factor in his demise as a film-star, but for a while there he got all kinds of work, didn't he? Bald as a badger, he was, all those years...I never realised until later on. The power of a good syrup...Mind, he was a very fit feller. If you like that kind of thing.
Is it just me or does he look a lot like dear old Lloyd Cole...?
Everyone's favourite ex-Welsh girly is in it too...Catherine Zeta-Jones-Turtle-Neck-Douglas (or whatever she calls herself these days).

Nothing's changed, I still love you

...only slightly, only slightly less than I used to

A long weekend. Beautiful sunny weather. Outdoors all day. Summertime temperatures. That's livin' alright.
Tottenham's last chance for European football next season is nigh. A win away at West Brom (who, in fairness, really need the points) is the absolute minimum required. Little Jefoe might start if he's in the right frame of mind after the murder of his half-brother. What on earth was all that about?
This weekend I am listening to old Blur singles from the boxset and 'Jizz In My Pants' haha.
They said it was gonna be cloudy today but so far there's no sign of it. I wonder if there's anything else I can find to blast clean with my new high-pressure wash thingummy? Hmm..
Today I shall be strutting around outdoors with my top off. It's the default setting. If you don't like it muthaf**ker then f*ck you too.
Today my undercrackers were of a pinkish hue...does that make me less of a man?

Say it isn't so...

From top...the Pedro Mendes goal against Man Utd from a few seasons ago that the referee didn't "see" as having crossed the line and yesterday's "penalty" awarded to the home team, to the general incredulity of the Spurs players. Bollocks.
Anyway, the football aside, yesterday was lovely, bright and sunny, today a little less so. Another short working week this week as Friday is some kind of Swedish holiday-stylee day. Must be the first of May one I suppose. I guess that'll be the one that Blighty has the Monday after. "Bank Holiday comes six times a year" and all that. We like Blur.

If I had a photograph of you

...or something to remind me

Loud and clear, through thick and thin

...Europa Europa

Mustasch hand. Come on you Spurs!
Today I was at the Lane with Joel to watch the mighty Tottenham continue their end-of-season charge towards Europe next year. A 1-0 win over the hapless Geordies which really should have been by a greater margin. Oh how we jumped up in the air when Benty tucked it away at the second opportunity. Some very amusing songs directed at Mr Shearer too. Jermaine Defoe even came on as a second-half substitute to ours (and everyone else's) delight.
Today we've been all over...Regent's Park down to Oxford Street and Regent Street. Then an overground train to the match because of the closure of the Victoria Line.
An Oirish barmaid served me and enquired politely if I was from Newport, haha. She recognised the accent. Still, after all these years. Honorary clarts, don't you just love 'em? After the match we returned and ended up watching Monsters vs Aliens in Leicester Square.
Back in the teeny tiny hotel room now with a can of M&S continental lager and the tv on. That's living alright.
Joel has been an absolute joy this weekend.
Five top football songs:
1. Anything by Chas and Dave (obviously)
2. World In Motion by New Order (boring choice but necessary)
3. Holte End Hotel by Stephen Duffy (despite the fact it's a paean to Villa)
4. Don't Come Home Too Soon by Del Amitri (a tad pessimistic, but still...)
5. Erm, I've lost interest in my own list
That's it from the big city, for this time at least. I'll be back. Be sure of it.

New York? Don't make me laugh!

...I've seen photographs

Tower up baby!

Today is Saturday the 18th of April 2009. Finally back in London. It's been too long. Magical. All human life is here.
Early morning flight...into Covent Garden, through Leicester Square to Piccadilly Circus and Oxford Street. Every street is a story written and waiting to be rewritten. Beautiful Spring sunshine.
The day finished off with a trip on the London Eye as the sun was beginning to set. Spectacular. 135m so they say. World's largest ferris wheel. Why are they called ferris wheels? Bloody high, either way.
I've had a lovely day. The whole day on foot and in Tubes. A little s.h.o.p.p.i.n.g. too. I mean, it'd be rude not to really, wouldn't it?

I'm on a train...

...I can't complain

Here come the jeans and the summer...

I'm off to White Hart Lane! And I'm taking the next generation of hapless Slocombe Tottenham fan with me, woohoo!
In a fit of Easter dinnertime-GammelDansk-induced drinking madness I promptly booked a ticket for myself and Joely for the match against "lowly" (and I've waited all season to be able to use that word about another team) Newcastle next Sunday. Spurs' win against West Ham yesterday also eased any lingering relegation fears, having breached the fabled 40-point barrier and moved us up to 8th spot. Europe next season after all maybe?
Leaving early next Saturday morning, coming home on the Monday after.
It's been a while. Way too long, as a matter of fact...

I've gone a little red in the sunshine. To match today's stripey top.

You've got such a pretty please I never could say "no"

Good Friday.
It has been quite good, actually, as it goes. Clear blue skies and warm sunshine. This morning I had to make a quick trip to the seething metropolis of Torp to buy a scart lead (don't ask). I'm not complaining. Mustn't grumble.

Spurs against West 'am this weekend, as they look to kick-start their (vague at best, I fear) European hopes. Without Wilson after his ridiculous sending-off last week. Boo.
Soon, I shall be drinking beer. Or maybe wine. Or better still - both.
I have a disease...mixamadrinksosis. Call a doctor. No wait...

Is stupid really stupid

...or a different kind of smart?

Spurs were away to Blackburn yesterday afternoon as I probably mentioned in my previous post. I wasn't even aware that they were on Swedish telly, but I made a desultory check and found that the match was the early kick-off and thus ON telly after all. I thoroughly enjoyed it as Tottenham scored quite early on and were extremely (stupidly) comfortable. I even felt a little sorry for Blackburn, what with their lowly position in the League and all.
Of course, all this changed with just over ten minutes left with the dismissal of Palacios. Who I love. Unconditionally and uncontrollably. He brings spine to the whole team. Ahem.
Redknapp rounded on referee Peter Walton, saying Palacios' red card was "farcical". The midfielder was sent off after two challenges on susbstitute David Dunn in quick succession.
Redknapp continued: "It was farcical. He never touched him. I think Dunny was embarrassed as he got up and shook his hand and apologised.
"But the referee was not clever enough to see it. After that we did not defend well enough.
"We were much the better team and as good as we have played away from home. We were in complete control. There was no danger whatsoever.
"I have never felt so comfortable at 1-0 up. Then suddenly we come off losing 2-1. It was amazing. We play some good football but you have to finish teams off."
Couldn't have put it better myself. Inconceivable to have lost that match. Sums the whole season up, I guess, as a win would have put Spurs in seventh spot. Bah.

Then...yesterday evening I was a little tired (maybe because I'd sat drinking beer in front of the football all afternoon, haha) and I inadvertently formatted my external hard drive which contains ALL of my music/films/tv series. Imagine my joy! I'm in the process of trying to recover all my ill-gotten gains as we "speak". Wish me luck...

On the upside I'm now sampling a variety of Easter beers on a sunny Sunday afternoon, so I'll survive.

I'm with stupid.

Punk as fuck

Sunshine Saturday morning. Apparently it's gonna be 18 degrees tomorrow. I doubt that very much but it's a lovely thought haha.
I want to get my summer wheels on the car. Nice big eighteen-inchers. Whoppers. We likes 'em big. You knows it.
Spurs (hopefully) resume their belated push for one of the European spots in the League away to Blackburn today. Ledley has had two weeks of recuperation time so he should be fit to play. Which automatically means we have a way better chance of winning the match...
What's the opposite of the verb "to jailbreak"? I have un-jailbroken my iPhone ready for the big os3.0 update later on this year. Nice. I've even bought a few of the apps I've been trying out. Good boy.
Liam Gallagher's new clothing line Pretty Green (named after the Jam song presumably) is out soon. There's a video on the website where he gives his verdict on the "skinny look" so popular at the moment. Hilarious, haha.
Today I am stripey.

Closer than a secret agent working undercover...

we are each other

Mmmm...goths.
The weather is beautiful this afternoon. Pity I've lost my mojo and am feeling little and sick. Poor lamb. Get well soon, eh? What I'd like to be doing now is sitting somewhere cosy eating ice cream. Or something. A weekend away somewhere might be nice too. A city break. Shopping. Still mad for it.
Wales have lost another World Cup qualifying match so as usual the campaign is over before it's even begun.
Isn't the new England strip nice? Old-school. We likes it.

Ten percent of all human beings ever born are alive at this moment

Today I hurt my leg. My bleedin' calf twanged painfully as I demonstrated my silky skills at the last indoor training session for Joel. Bah. It's been building up to it all week but today was the day. Ouch.
I broke my self-imposed jeans-buying ban this week too. Big style. I've fallen off the wagon. Oh well...at least I'll look good lying there by the roadside. Snigger.
Lots of half-assed snow which turned to mush this week. Hopefully it'll be the last of it before Spring turns up.
Wales versus Finland in the World Cup qualifiers today. Rub rub.
My name is Jonathan Slocombe and I'm a shopaholic...

You look a f*%king mess

Spurs are in the top half of the League FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS SEASON.
It's only taken, typ, seven months, mohahah. Najs.

In a belted coat, well I secretly knew...

that you hadn't a clue

Spurs are in the top half of the table for the first time this season.
It's only taken, typ, seven months, mohaha. I knew it was only a matter of time. Ahem.

It's raining again...I'm hearing the pitter-patter now...

Cool your beans my son

Oh, happy days. A magnificent Spurs win against Chelsea for the first time in donkeys' years. Thoroughly deserved too. Lovely. Jenas and Palacios added the bite in midfield and Modric was a mercurial genius. Ahem.
Quite a bit colder today...no sun at all to speak of. Ideal weather to stand around watching my oldest boy play his first football match of the year in. Not. Bah.
I won't speak of the rugby, but my Slocombe blood has a tinge of Irish in it, so I can't feel too gutted, heh heh.

Let's see that again shall we...?

This week I shall be cleaning out my closet. Maybe. So that I can fit more stuff inside it.
Oh, as I write, the sun has popped it's beautiful head out for a while.
Let's go outside...

And you answered like a kiss...

on black velvet




Wales are gunning for (another) Triple Crown today. Although they'll have to ruin the Oirish Grand Slam aspirations to achieve it. A thirteen-point winning margin will see a successful defence of the Six Nations title too. Come on!
Spurs take on Chelski in the League today too, having not lost against the top four teams all season. Hoping for the best. The talismanic Big Ledders should be present so...
It's a beautiful, sunny day. Last night was the first barbie of the year. I froze my nuts off out there by the grill but it was worth it, heh heh.
My head feels nice. If I do say so myself.

But they never knew like we knew me and you were the same

Oh, I really really wanna see The Damned United film. There's nobody approaching Mr Clough in the modern game. More's the pity. As a player he scored 251 goals in 274 games.
Zlatan my arse.
I'm particularly looking forward to the infamous Dirty Leeds v Liverpool Charity Shield match in which Billy Bremner "spent most of his time on the pitch practising kung fu on Kevin Keegan’s testicles" mohaha.

The recent Spring-like weather continues apace, though apparently it's gonna be a little colder the next few days, so I hear.
I've shaved my head. For the Summer.

The 50 Greatest Tottenham Players Of All Time???

I fall for this season every time...

Äntligen a bit of Springshine!
I loves it.

Wales struggled a little with their second-string side against the Italians in the rugby but came good in the end. Of course the bloody English press jumped on it and made out that they have no chance against the Irish next week. The Oirish themselves didn't exactly run up a huge score against the Scots yesterday either but are apparently 'charging' towards the Grand Slam. Hmmm.

Spurs against Villa on telly now. Some points here would be very welome. Rub rub rub. Come on!
Newsflash: 1-0 to the Tottenham! Fingers crossed and thumbs held...

Everybody knows it sucks to grow up...

The Spencemeister and I waiting for the footy to begin. Easy like Saturday afternoon.

Still a bit of half-assed snow lying around and melting all over the place. No sign of Springtime. WTF?!?

When the band sang "Didn't I Blow Your Mind"

we sucked as hard as we blew...

Okay, so today is the 12th March.
I ask you...what on earth is the bloody point?

...the sun shines out of our behinds

Serious...this feller (pictured above) is absolute nails. He saw his underwater photographer mate being circled by a 12ft shark on a fishing trip. So what does he do...?
Jumps into the water with his harpoon and places himself between the big, nasty fish and his buddy. Then, thinking the shark is circling ready to attack he lets loose with his gun, spearing the shark through the gills. Not satisfied with that, he realises that he's fatally wounded the shark, so tries to do the decent thing and finish "him" off quickly.
This he achieves with a limited degree of success by shooting the shark repeatedly around the head area. Six times I believe. This not having done the trick, after two hours he finally kills the thing with a knife. A knife! We salute you.

Reminds me of this

I'd have done exactly the same thing meself in his shoes. Or his flippers. Whatever.

Let the happiness in

Last night I went to see Glasvegas på Stora Teatern here in Göteborg. I'd not really listened to the album that much, so didn't have too much of an idea what to expect.
As it goes, they were bloody excellent.
Four skinny white boys dressed in black playing loud guitar music. What's not to like?

Admittedly one of the boys was a plump girl and another one could hardly be considered skinny at all, but still...right from the moment they came on and burst into "Geraldine" it was magnificent. Proper, uplifting rock music. Fists punching, hunched over guitars, big choruses, blood and thunder, energy to spare rocktastic. Like Ride on steroids. And with a little more showmanship and less shoe-gazing. And less hair. And more black.
We like.

Today I woke up to snow. Again. Which eventually, of course, turned into rain and slush. Give it up already and let the Spring in. Säger jag.

Inky blue skies away

Saturday morning. A light smattering of pathetic watery snow. I ask you - what is the point? Useless. Bring on the Springtime I say.

After the disappointment of the Cup Final last weekend (and when are they gonna bring in a rule to ban English players from taking penalties anyway? Pathetic. It gives goalkeepers an unfair advantage, ha ha) Spurs recorded a tremendous 4-0 victory over so-called 'Boro'. Robbie Keane off the mark in his second stint at the club.
Woohoo!
Another six-pointer away at Sunderland in a few hours. Come on!

I think - if it's even possible - that I'm liking stripes even more this week than last week. I'm silly for them.
Another thing I'm liking right now is s.h.o.p.p.i.n.g. I have a problem.

A couple of days ago I got myself some more ink.

Very much so.

Bah. Wales lost in the rugby on the cusp of their tenth successive Six Nations triumph. The first back-to-back Grand Slams for a hundred years is also not gonna happen. A typically contrary French side did the damage. Oh well, here's hoping Spurs can repeat the heroics of last year and win the Carling Cup final against much-fancied opposition tomorrow...

The mornings are getting lighter now. Finally. Nearly all of last weekend's snow has melted away and the sun is shining.

My tip for the top pop-pickers - Boy Story II...Touch you where I shouldn't (your private parts) Ha ha ha ha ha

Is it just me or is Adore Smashing Pumpkins' finest album...? Maybe. Ahem.

Note to self: Wear more stripes. We like stripes. Yes we do. Very much so.

You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...

Home again. To loads and loads of snow. Woohoo!

Sadly this morning it all seems to be melting away in zero degrees and bright sunshine. Bo-ring.

Driving home was a little bit of a nightmare...snowstorms pretty much all the way, people driving stupidly slowly and the kids conducting their own Experiment IV in the back seat. Bah...

Still, I'm back. In bläck. Or something.

Parma Violets

The last morning. The skis have been returned. A good few hours' drive back to Göteborg to look forward to.
Hope there's some snow waiting for me there too. I just can't get enough, apparently.
The premier league fixtures begin again now after a couple of weeks of international friendlies and European games. By the looks of it spurs will only have one more match in Europe anyway. Time to concentrate on the league. About time too, haha.
A lovely week but it's always nice to come home.

Space Dust

Snow. Lots of it. Lovely snow.
King of the hill.
My legs hurt. A little. Ski boots the size of my feet weigh approximately 214 kilos. That's about as much as a fat baby dinosaur weighs. I'm a doctor, so I know all about that sort of stuff.
Today was a nice day.
And relax...

Splicer

A beautiful sunshine-y day. Many degrees below. 15 or more. -21 when I woke up. My cheeks are a rosy red colour. The 'upstairs' ones I'm referring to of course. Nice. As are my downstairs cheeks. Nice, that is Very nice indeed, if I do say so myself. And I do.
Getting a little more adventurous every day on the slopes. Actually it's more my ability that holds me back - not my lack of adventure, haha.
Après-ski is a wonderful thing. Drinking on a school night. Ah...

Cola Cubes

Ahhh...relaxing on the sofa after a day out on the slopes. Man. 13 degrees below and a little cloudy today. Snow falling. Too cold to snow? My arse.
Completely knackered. If only I could stop eating and drinking long enough to go to bed.
I'm guessing there'll still be some snow left tomorrow heh heh. Back at it. I'm so Swedish it HURTS.
Nighty night. Until the next time.

Bronco Busters

Today I woke to a temperature of 13 below zero and bright sunshine. Getting into a pair of skis is just like riding a bike I've been told. It's been nearly ten years since I last attempted it, so I suppose I'm not that much worse than I was the first time. Which isn't actually saying that much, mohaha.
Wales are on course for their third Grand Slam in four years . It's like I've woken up and been transported back to the seventies, clart.
It's a Sunday evening and I'm drinking wine after a day outdoors. Najs säger jag.
Although I miss work. Grin.

Cherry Lips

Today I nearly bought the farm.
It's been an I-don't-know-how-many (about six) hour drive to this little cabin in the wilds of northern Sverige. Tootling along quite happily about four and a half hours in I spotted what I first took to be a horse trotting out of the trees. It panicked and made a few quick steps towards the road whereupon I jammed on the brakes and screamed. In a manly way of course. Ahem. A close thing...could have reached out of the window and touched the feller. Somebody out there likes me maybe.
It's quite snowy and about twelve degrees below here. Bring it on.
Come on Wales in the rugby.
Happy Valentine's day.

Quiet fills the room and your love flows through me

Though I lie here so still...I burn for you

0-0. To Tottenham. Bah. The game was there for the taking, after the Gooners being reduced to 10 "men". Still, I suppose I'd have settled for a point before the match. Wales looked awesome (in patches) in the rugby too, so all-in-all, today was a good day.

It's gonna snow tonight. I feel it in my bone. Bones. Whatever.

Now that I have found you...

...in the cool of your evening smile

Today I woke to a new layer of snow after yesterday's drab greyness. My optimism for the day's sporting events - the Mighty Tottenham Hotspur v Arsenal (and Wales v Scotland in the Six Nations) - knows no bounds. I'll let you know how that's working for me in a few hours, ha ha.

The new ink is healing and fading nicely. Stripes are the new black. The heavens are blue and speckled with fluffy, white clouds.

I would go out tonight...

but I haven't got a stitch to wear...

Ha ha ha. Vive La Moz! A fine figure of a man and no mistake.

Talking of which, today I consumed my first semla of the new season. Mmmmm. I think number two will be right behind it.

This week it's gonna snow properly at last. So I hear.

Is Robbie Keane on his way back to Spurs? I surely hope so. I'd welcome him back with open arms..he'd be the third old boy returning to the Lane in as many weeks if that were the case. Come on!

You won't admit to it...

...it makes no sense

Today dawned a beautiful, bright, sunshiney Sunday. A couple of degrees below zero and all is right in the world.

Now if only crappy Tottenham hadn't come back from two goals down only to still lose in the dying embers of the match yesterday. Against crappy Bolton too. How is it that almost every goal Bolton ever score comes from a set-piece and a goalmouth scramble? With a Kevin Davies push and shove in the build-up. Fat bastard. Frustrating.

It's nice to think that Spring isn't too far away now. Love is in the air, everywhere I look around. Outdoors, sunshine, a bit more daylight. I think I need all of these things. I also need a navy blue cardigan, I've decided.

This week I got another tattoo.

Oh how slowly can I stay here?

...and never yet too much

Today the sun shone. If only for a little while...

And my heart sings of many things...

...in cries and whispers

Sunday morning. Wonder what the new Blur stuff will sound like? Good, I should expect.

A few snowy days this week, but it's disappeared again. Back to greyness and rain. Bah.

That dreadful turncoat Berbatov knocked the mighty Spurs out of the cup yesterday. Typical. At least now they can "concentrate on the League", heh heh. They better had, as they're right back in the thick of the relegation battle again. Balle. Stoke on Tuesday. A real twelve-pointer if ever there was one.

Roll on Springtime I say...a bit of sunshine and daylight would work wonders. Payday. About bleedin' time too.

Home is a love that I miss very much...

...so the past has been bottled and labelled with love...

Guess who's back?

Just the one point, but a step in the right direction. A pity Calamity was in such good form today cos Spurs really did create the most chances. Is it just me, or is it a bit worrying that Tottenham have one goalie who can barely run and can't kick the ball but who plays the whole ninety minutes anyway...and an eighty-year-old Italian feller as sole backup? Hmmm.

It's trying to snow. Me likee.

But when that bald guy sang "You sexy thing"...

...both of our pants just dropped...

Gulp. Spurs are officially bottom of the League. Horrible. At least until they play today at 17:00 (swedish time). It's so ridiculously tight down there, though, that a win would see them move up about five places or more. So fingers (and everything else) crossed and thumbs held for that. A bit of a grudge match with traitorous Sol playing for them (amongst other ex-Spurs boys) and 'arry and little Jermaine having moved in the opposite direction.

A little snow here today. Najs säger jag. Hopefully more on the way, as the temperature is hovering around the zero mark. I've just treated myself to a nice Lemsip. Mmmm. Although it doesn't taste the same as I remember. A little sourer. Or maybe that's just me, snigger.

To dare is to do, baby...

And like the waves, without a sound...

I'll never let you down...

The snow came to nothing, as it often does, but my hopes are high that it will return, heh heh.

Time to get back to the gym after weeks and weeks of over-indulgence (read: general piggery) over the festive period. Back to school and all that. It's alright. Could be worse. The swing of things. It's like riding a bike. Or a horse. Or something. The old routines. Isn't it?

The mighty Tottenham have sunk back into the mire of the "bottom-three". Gulp. Time is a-ticking, they're taking a licking. Bah. This has got to stop. And soon. Not enough balls in the squad, it appears.

Do you believe in love? Do you believe in life?

...'cos I believe a little part of you inside of me will never die

Okay, this weather is confusing me. This morning I woke to -9 degrees and bright sunshine again, after yesterday's two or three above and damp. What is going on? And when is the snow arriving, heh heh?

Spurs go marching on in the FA Cup, courtesy of two goals from the Russian feller with the bad hair. He's the knockout king. He scores in every round of the cups but struggles in the League. Bah. The League is all that matters right now. Have to wait another week until the next match though. Come on! tap tap tap...

Feels like months since I was last at work. I'll have forgotten how everything works by the time I get back. Ah, it'll take five minutes I guess and then straight back into the old routine.

Gears of War 2 on the XBox360 is a wonderful thing. Oh yes. I've spent an embarassing amount of time trying to get my XBox avatar to look like me. To no avail, I fear. He'll be just to the right of this post.

I'm a big boy now...

...or so they say

Woke up this morning to -10 degrees and bright sunshine. Bootiful.

It's a Friday but it feels like another day entirely. A few days off work and my internal clock (if that's what it is) is all over the shop. Still a few more days off until the working year begins again.

Too cold to snow now. Apparently. Bah. Spurs begin their FA Cup campaign tonight, but it feels like it would be more prudent to rest a few players for the League at the moment. Still no shopping in the January sales by them yet, but it feels like somebody must be on the way in.

Talking of sales, why am I in a shopping mood? Hmmm...surprising, eh? Not...

Ooh, I've got a gag:

A man walks into a jewellers and without a word steps up to the counter and whips out his old boy, placing it on the desk in front of the bemused shopgirl. The assistant is a little taken aback, so she says "Excuse me, sir, I think you've made a mistake...this is a 'clock' shop not a 'cock' shop".

"I knows that", says the man..."put a pair of hands on this for me would you?"

BOOM BOOM. This could be a regular thing. It's the way I tell 'em, etc.,

I come awake with a gift for womankind...

...you're still asleep, but the gift don't seem to mind...

So that's it for another year then. All the pressies have been unwrapped and all the fireworks have fizzled out. Mind, another week before work starts again...

We're in the middle of a cold snap here, but still no bleedin' snow. The temperature's been hovering between about -8 and 0 degrees but...nothing. Snow, already! Bah. Snow, lovely snow. Det är dags.

A dreadful Christmas for the mighty Tottenham. Maybe buying back Jermain Defoe will kick-start things again. Something is needed. And soon.

Another year older, another year wiser, my arse.

Happy New Year clarts!

The future's bright...the future's goldie lookin'.