Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Friday 23 April 2010

23 April 2010

Yes, it's Deviant Diary on date with Darlo destiny day minus one, reporting live and exclusive from sleepy old Trent Bridge. And now the end is near, we've reached the final curtain with Woods the Enigmatic preaching to the loft converted with wild thoughts of a lively pitch and throwing caution to the wind. But in Darlington no-one can hear you scream, for nobody will be home. He's got a little black book with some poems in and, if the nesbits have their way, a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in on Sunday.

But it isn't over yet. If... if... if... if and if then we'll still be down in the dumps. Are we that interested in tomorrow? The Simon Davey jazz free form combo (Tuesdays at 8 at Pizza Express, Thirsk) has lost its amp and he'll have to go acoustic tomorrow. Nothing from free-scoring scat machine Tadgh Purcell, but Mor Diop's sax will be blowing bubbles and... ooh, nice shot Mr Trescothick: sumptuous lean into the full-pitched delivery for a drive through the off side. We've put the effort into a constructing a fantabulous factfile contraption that can fly underwater, so you can put the effort into reading it. Go on, you know you want to, it's as tempting as Mr Kipling's French Fancies.

The usual blah-di-blahing goes on and on in the localised rag tag newpaper thing with Cap'n Bob insistent that they will remain professional to the end with a fine run of ancient clichés. Or as the link insists elliptically, "heart mother fights skipper Atkinson". She'll win if she goes for a left hook. Next up on the dreadmill of dross is Tommy Wrong, who hopes to right the wrongs of last week. He'll also write the wrongs that last the whole day through.

We'll leave the indulgent immolation and general discombobulation at our desolation until next week. Gotta leave some meat on the Diary bone, otherwise they'll talk about allotments.

Wahey! A wicket at the cricket. I was Deviant Diary, I am diverted. It is done.