** Warning: this post may contain references to cricket, which some viewers may find offensive, baffling, or dull. **
1. The third test has just started in [B/M][o/u]mba[y/i].
2. The Grauniad over-by-over commentary is on the blink. Latest news, apparently: "qwqwqw".
3. As a result of this, millions of cricket lovers around the globe are googlin' Guardian OBO and landing up on 2wheels.
4. This leaves me with a public-service obligation to provide a commentary, I suppose. Well, England are 299 for 3; Flintoff, on 30, has just hooked Pathan for six. And, goodness me, there's lovely red double decker bus coming down the Kirkstall Lane, and a rather dandy-looking pigeon strutting about at long off.
5. England are going into this game missing (through illness, injury, or personal misfortune) Harmy, Jonesy, Vaughany, Trescothicky [they don't call him that, do they?], Cooky, and the King of Spain.
Which leads me to suggest that it's bloody difficult to get into the England team unless your name ends in Y, or you're royalty.
What a web we weave
On fire this morning...
Competition! Win a prize!
Sorry, but this was just sensational