Back in Black(pool)

Work has been getting all up in my time and shit, hence the no-post. Did a UK legger with my mates for 5 weeks and we're still mates and so we're writing another record so that the exercise can be repeated until we are older men than we are right now.

The severe weather warnings of the weekend saw myself, Dunc and the Brown Town swerve the fuck out of our coast to coast jaunt. We got up with the larks and instead rode up to Blackpool and back instead. The thing about Blackpool is that everything there is disgusting. The food is disgusting and Blackpool tower is disgusting. Everyone that you look at with your eyes is disgusting and disgusted by the disgusting people that they look at with their own disgusting eyes. Still, despite a windy and rainy day, I managed to catch a touch of sunburn and a feigned smile smack bang in the middle of our very own Las Vegas.



So yeah. New work:



Should be seeing the light of day in mainland Europe as September trips over October's welcome mat, and I dare say we'll be tripping up drunk across Germany for as long as they can stand us to.

And if Contador wins the tour due to today's tangled code of honour, will the Yellow Jersey offer him any piece of mind at all?