For whom the bells toll ...

I have to say, I never heard that bell ring once on Saturday evening. I was laying back watching the Pompey/ Charlton match from the comfort of my own sofa. It's my sofa so I'll do what I want on it. There was no close up of that Pompey tatooed bloke, no bell ... I was a wee bit worried. Given that Pompey went one nil up and we were playing shite I had reason to be worried. Inspector Spector making hid debut was not living up to expectations, and Kish and Smerts weren't giving Murphy protection. Then I switched over to X Factor. Saw how crap that was, how crap Chico was and turned back. The turning point. I'd prefer to watch some crap I was actually into. Two sparkling goals later and we lie second. You can stick your wacky penalty where the sun shines. Martinique by all accounts.

I had a stroll around Greenwich on Sunday. I haven't been there in months. Nothing changes much apart from the centre market being a bit shoddy. Not like it was in my day.

I had a dabble in cooking roasted veg on Sunday as well. Yes, it's easy ... but I wanted to try something a bit different ... quality, absoluet quality. I'll have to use that as my entertaining meal ... if you get my drift.

I also watched SIN CITY yesterday. A bit different, but oh so much better than Jades Salon. Easily pleased me.

It's pishing down somewhat. Not nice.

My tune of the day: Don't Let It Show On Your Face - Adeva