Sunday, June 29, 2003
Paul Kimmage is one of the very few reasons why I persist with the Sunday Times, his in depth interviews are excellent.
He was a professional cyclist in the 80's and here he gives a brilliant account of what it is actually like to ride in the Tour de France.
I moan and moan about the BBC's coverage of Glastonbury, but I should just be grateful that we have it at all, it is definitely one of the highlights of the years viewing, especially mow BBC 3 covers it for hours on end.
This year the presenters have been less irritating than usual, the odious Phil Jupitus apart, but still they persist in showing the same bands playing the same songs over and over again. There miust be loads of good stuff going on but all we see is endless re runs of the likes of Radiohead and for some reason, Suede. I have lost count of the number of times I have seen Freddie and the Dreamers over the last 2 days; sorry, of course I mean The Coral. As I type, David Gray is on, again, for about the hundredth time.
Still, we at least got to see a superb and absolutely barking set by The Flaming Lips. I'm a bit fed up about that actually, having been banging on about them for at least 2 years now every silly chuffer is going to know them, and I can't show off. There is a good interview with chief lip, Wayne Coyne, in the Observer. He does seem genuinely off the wall. I like the guy.
Article on the subtle and not so subtle ways Glastonbury has changed this year.
I have had one of those long months where you just end up skint, so did no shopping this weekend, as I had nothing to shop with. Not to worry, we are resourceful, and the kitchen is full of stuff, so we weren't about to starve. I knocked up a carbonara at dinner time, and the kids dug up some of their own spuds which they scoffed with an omelette for tea.
For me and Mrs Buddha I did a simple baked spud. Caramelised some onions, frizzled some pancetta with them at the end, mixed up with the flesh of the spuds, with some Parmesan and Gruyere, all well lubricated with some good olive oil, before shoving back in the oven. It looked good and it smelled good. Unfortunately, another endless repeat started on the Glastonbury coverage, but it was the Lips, so I just set the time and departed for the living room.
Set it for 20 minutes, but forgot to press the button for conventional oven. So they had 20 minutes at 800 watts microwave power. Ever so slightly burnt. I am starving now but can't be arsed to cook anything else. Beer and crisps, I think will do the trick.
Found on B3TA a photo of a message left on the fridge in a shared house, may or may not be genuine.
10 things we were told about Iraq that appear to lack veracity.