It's Not My Bag

I need to dig out my gig bag.

In the run up to Chrimbo I decided (or rather it was decided for me) that I should hit the gym really hard, ably assisted by a trainer. I've had one session with him so far and he nearly killed me! I ache. All over.

To add insult to injury, I'm not sure where I've shoved my gig bag. I know it can't have gone far. Our place isn't that big!!! As such, when I'm heading off to a jam (like today), I have to pack Red up into his hard case. After trekking to work by public transport this morning I now not only ache all over, but one arm is significantly longer than the other. D'Oh!

What else... oh, I suppose if anyone's still reading this then you deserve a giggle. The BBC show we're going to be on (unless the footage of us hit the cutting room floor) is due to air next Tuesday, December 1 at 22:35. It's the arts show, "Imagine", hosted by Alan Yentob. We've not been allowed to see a preview. It's going to be so embarrassing. The BBC just rang Tim to ask whether they can use us in the publicity for the show. I don't know what that means!!!! I hope they don't mean that we'll have our faces plastered on billboards across all major cities in the civilised world...