Had a call late at night Wednesday, could we cover a group of investors meeting in Shipley West Yorks the following evening and supply the images to the Yorkshire Post. Accepted the job (it pays the bills) travelled over and up on t' moortop. It bucketed down, so much so I couldn't see a thing and passed the location about 4 times before eventually asking a local where the heck it was. Invest in a satnav she who must be obeyed says. I point out the couple of hours we drove around San Francisco trying to get out of the city by following the satnav but as we all know you cannot convince a female once its mind is made up, it's not worth the hassle. 'That was hard work' my daughter comments when in the past I have tried to suggest some alteration to the mindset of the Gruppen Feuhrer. Frighteningly she can copy her mothers looks and attitude with an uncanny accuracy and with the menacing air that only a nine year old can exude. If she starts to turn her head past 90 degrees I'll be long gone.

A very good friend emailed me tonight telling me he had pulled the plug on a project he was working on. My friend is a very generous and kind man (well, I don't live with him) and is always willing to help. His project involved him acting as a literary agent to a prize idiot and ended up with my friend being a couple of hundred quid out of pocket. The saga of lottery bid rolls on, at least they are still talking to me, wanting more paperwork and evidence to back up my bid for glory. Read a previous rant and don't get me started, had one-eyed Jim in town today. Kept that quiet or I'd have been up town with a bag of flour. Well I say 'kept that quiet' the boys in blue put on their usual good show with such force, noise and bravado that the OAP home on the route the man who is trying to beat the credit crunch on his own with the amount he has borrowed travelled, now has a few more vacancies.

Off to bed, the princess is up early tomorrow, ice skating again, practice for the Xmas show. Now there's another rant coming on, Christmas or should it be called Autumn festivities since it seems to start in early September. But I'll leave that for next time. Oh one last thing, get to Crossroad Inn Keighley on the 19th Dec. having a rock gig and the mainliners, Classique, (with some ex-excaliber members) is managed by my old mate Keith Parfett, an ex colleague, fan of Mohammed Ali (as I am) and alround layabout. If you want a lift fitted in your house (14 floors minimum) he's your man but watch out for his tool boxes, he used to keep dropping them down the lift shaft.