...

Some blogs I know

  • Freckles and Doubt
    Considering her mastery of narrative structure etc. (insert narrative structure here.....)
  • Trailer Park Refugee | just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight….
    Just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight...
  • Exile on Pain Street | Straddling the Hudson River. One foot in NYC, the other in suburban New Jersey.
    One man's story, etc.....
  • Fat Man on a Keyboard
    'At first they came for the smokers but I did not speak out as I did not smoke. Then they came for the binge drinkers but I said nothing as I did not binge. Now they have an obesity strategy...'
  • New York Bike Blog
  • Belgian Waffle
    Prolific? Bien sur. Waffle? Not a bit of it. The best thing to come out of Belgium since Leffe Blonde, and that is saying something.
  • Non-working monkey
    'Why taking work seriously turns you into a cock', among other lifesavingly important career advice.
  • Razorblade of life
    'Not so much cutting-edge as half-cut and still sliding'...
  • blue cat
    This blue cat fellow (he writes for the telly you know) issues forth an apparently effortless stream of grade-A funniness that has me overcome in turns by helpless laughter and shameful, powerful envy. There I've said it.
  • Joella
    Joella in Oxfordshire. Working for The Man while training to be a plumber (I think!). Loves gherkins, hates aubergines... and Fascists.
  • Bushra
    Bushra's blog/ homepage/ call it what you want
  • Dubsteps (formerly Hobo Tread)
    Thoughts of Skif, a Havant and Waterlooville fan exiled in Liverpool- possibly the most engaging non-league football writing to be found on the web- and with a little bit of politics, and plenty more beside!
  • Tired Dad
    The Man Who Very Nearly Fell Asleep
  • troubled diva.
    Mike, the self-styled 'Fairy Godmother of British Blogging'. He got us all published in a book, you know...
  • Private Secret Diary
    Dispatches from deepest Norfolk. Not that private and not that secret. Just consistently hilarious.
  • The man who fell asleep; Sadness and ecstasy in unequal measures
    The book inspired by this veteran site (A Year in the life of The Man Who Fell Asleep) features the 'sarcastic polar bears of north London' among other oddities that the author manages somehow to render absolutely plausible.
  • Pete Ashton's Internet Presence
    Birmingham's finest. Writing with enviable clarity on every subject under the sun since 2000 (a very long time indeed!). Now with added nice pictures of canals and stuff...
  • Looby
    'An awkward, clumsy fellow; a lubber; a novice'....a venerated (if refreshingly irreverent) blogging institution. Lancaster's very finest!
  • RichardHerring.com
    The comedian Richard Herring's kind of online diary thing. Always worth a visit.

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« Putting The Hat Back On The Heads Of The British People | Main | The Outside »

May 11, 2007

Comments

Ben

That was one of my favourite days out as a kid: a couple of hours on the roof of Newcastle Airport. And to think that some people (e.g. my better half) find it laughable. At least we didn't get conned into buying any chicken-free chicken casserole - oh no, we would go to Little Chef on the way home...

Happier, more innocent times.

looby

I quite like plane spotters. It's quintessentially English. It was quite amusing to see the bemusement of the Greek authorities in that court case the other year when those plan spotters where put briefly in jail because they simply could not comprehend the idea of plane spotting as a leisure activity.

I quite like airports myself - there's something so artificial about them. When I used t work on the railways we occasionally had to spend a couple of hours hanging around Gatwick and it was fascinating - I didn't want to come home.

Anyway, must go, Asda has got an offer on anoraks which runs out tonight.

jonathan

Aye well it's a harmless enough pursuit when all is said and done. And anoraks (I'm talking about the actual coats here not the nowadays-eponymous people who wear them in pursuit of their lone outdoor hobbies) are also unfairly maligned in my view- in fact I might start praising them to the skies on here in the hope someone sends me a nice comfortable one- perhaps yellow, with sporty black stripes down the sleeves- in the post. Kagools on the other hand I have no time for- largely because I am never sure how to spell them.

Oh and Ben- apparently we used to get taken on trips to the airport as well- although we must have been too young to remember. We certainly never got on any planes- you didn't really need one to make the twelve-mile journey east to Whitley Bay, where we generally spent our week's summer holiday. Hell, it was positively exotic, man-there were Scottish people there staying in the caravans, who, when for all your life you had only come across Geordies, were about as exotic as people from the moon...

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