This year we have lost many of Planet Earth's greats. Lemmy, David Bowie, Keith Emerson, George Martin, Eric "Winkle" Brown (shame on you if you don't know who he is) and just 48 hours ago, Ronnie Corbett. It's an annus horribilis for sure, but may I just say, that reports last year that the Phantom Blogger had also shuffled off this mortal coil, bereft of life and off to meet his maker, were greatly exaggerated. Lock up your daughters, (whilst I shall do the same), the Blogmeister is BACK!!!
But please note; these days apparently it's no longer fashionable to use ones given name. No, if you're down with the kids you need a stage name, so if it's good enough for J-Lo and P-Diddy, it's good enough for me. Ladies, gentlemen, and those of you who are still on the fence (get off, you'll break it), you shall now refer to me as "T-Phablo". (Not be confused with "That Fat Bloke")
If you're part of my posse (and if you are, you'll be needing a horse and a Stetson) you may refer to me as "T-Phab" (rhymes with prefab) thus marking you out as one of my inner crew, and reminding everybody of cheap post war housing in Britain. Please note, no sprouts.
But enough about me, what news from yonder Prologue breaks? Well, not much really... the bikes went round and round, the cars went round and round, the wheels on the trailer went round and round, the wipers on the car went swish swish swish, the cameras on T-Phablo went click click click and nobody got hurt. Which is good.
So let's talk about Ian and Sheila, except that celebrity couples need 'couple names' so out of respect for their 20+ years in the Gulf we shall now refer to their combined presence as "In'she'la"(meaning "If Sheila lets it happen") So Sheila shouted at Ian and told him to slow down. Ian claimed afterwards he hadn't heard a thing and that his consequent "running of the barriers" (like Pamplona but without the stupid red scarves and, let's be honest, rather gay white trouser suits, accessorised with a camp beret. Seriously, guys of Spain, you want us to take your bull running seriously but then you dress like a limp wristed Village People backing troupe. What's with that?) was a perfectly executed power slide using only the prefabricated (and "we're back") plastic barriers as a city limit of sorts. "You shall not exceed the boundaries - but it's OK to smack them upside the head a little"
And thus, Newtrix raced, Rick went carless, Kate was steadfastly Stedman, Birthday Boy Jason forgot his lyness and Richard....well Richard had his hands on his tool most of the day, as usual.
Now the team are hard at work fettling the car (Rick's latest facebook status update suggests they are doing so in the Y Bar at Yas Marina, which is odd...) whilst Sheila is updating the roadbook and Ian is snoring. So. No change there then.
Good night!
But please note; these days apparently it's no longer fashionable to use ones given name. No, if you're down with the kids you need a stage name, so if it's good enough for J-Lo and P-Diddy, it's good enough for me. Ladies, gentlemen, and those of you who are still on the fence (get off, you'll break it), you shall now refer to me as "T-Phablo". (Not be confused with "That Fat Bloke")
If you're part of my posse (and if you are, you'll be needing a horse and a Stetson) you may refer to me as "T-Phab" (rhymes with prefab) thus marking you out as one of my inner crew, and reminding everybody of cheap post war housing in Britain. Please note, no sprouts.
But enough about me, what news from yonder Prologue breaks? Well, not much really... the bikes went round and round, the cars went round and round, the wheels on the trailer went round and round, the wipers on the car went swish swish swish, the cameras on T-Phablo went click click click and nobody got hurt. Which is good. So let's talk about Ian and Sheila, except that celebrity couples need 'couple names' so out of respect for their 20+ years in the Gulf we shall now refer to their combined presence as "In'she'la"(meaning "If Sheila lets it happen") So Sheila shouted at Ian and told him to slow down. Ian claimed afterwards he hadn't heard a thing and that his consequent "running of the barriers" (like Pamplona but without the stupid red scarves and, let's be honest, rather gay white trouser suits, accessorised with a camp beret. Seriously, guys of Spain, you want us to take your bull running seriously but then you dress like a limp wristed Village People backing troupe. What's with that?) was a perfectly executed power slide using only the prefabricated (and "we're back") plastic barriers as a city limit of sorts. "You shall not exceed the boundaries - but it's OK to smack them upside the head a little"
And thus, Newtrix raced, Rick went carless, Kate was steadfastly Stedman, Birthday Boy Jason forgot his lyness and Richard....well Richard had his hands on his tool most of the day, as usual.Now the team are hard at work fettling the car (Rick's latest facebook status update suggests they are doing so in the Y Bar at Yas Marina, which is odd...) whilst Sheila is updating the roadbook and Ian is snoring. So. No change there then.
Good night!
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