Ordinarily being beaten to the punch on a piece of commentary would probably render me apathetic enough to let it go through to the keeper, however this one’s worth throwing in just because it crinkles my brain so much. At
Rrrrrock et rrroll!
It’s not as often as I’d like that I get the chance to do a random quick dash out to Europe based on a wafer-thin premise, however Big Pete’s insistence that we go to an Iron Maiden gig provided just
Hot springs? Tick. Midnight sun? Tick. Ice and snow? Not so much.
I’m a big fan of careering off on illogical adventures at relatively short notice, so when my housemate James asked me about a fortnight ago if I wanted to come to Reykjavik for a free Bjork gig I mightily hit