Being Blonde

I’m actually only writing this blog post to move that picture down the page a bit.
(The blog’s our default virtual host so at the moment any time we set up a new website we get a picture of Rhys Ifan’s arse until the virtual host is configured)

But anyway, today we’re taste-testing new coffee for our coffee machine:

We’ve had this thing for a year and I’ve decided we should try some different types of coffee to make sure the stuff we’ve been using is up to scratch (so far, the verdict is “yes” - the incumbent has won two bouts… one more to go)

Programmers are machines for turning coffee into code. The better the coffee that goes in, the better the code you get out at the end (or possibly the more liable to caffeine-induced psychoses your techies are, details details)

Either way: none of that brown gravel stuff here, thank you very much.

I had a terrible hangover, it was a rainy miserable Sunday in Manchester. Lo and I had been down there visiting a mate for the weekend and decided to do a little retail therapy before heading home… As we turned a corner, much to my surprise, I spotted the 3 Sol Beetles sitting at the traffic lights. Like a pro Pap, I wipped out my phone a got a snap… I’m sure they must have thought I was a nutter getting so excited and pointing. It certainly brightened up my day tho