*Listening to Angus and Julia Stone – And The Boys EP*
Today was the day Kings of Leon tickets hit the e-shelves for their big Hyde Park gig. I say today, it was for about 10 seconds. I say hit the e-shelves, I’m not even sure they opened the doors. How do sixty-odd thousand tickets get sold so quickly? And how come I was sat here early and still got about as close to getting a ticket as Roy Keane will to Manager Of The Year? (Actually, most of Norfolk will vote for him at this rate.)
I suppose Virgin Media could take the brunt of my annoyance. When downloading iTunes again the other day it turned out it was actually quicker to walk to California, set up a meeting with Steve Jobs, tell him the iPad is pointless, set up another meeting this time with Steve Wozniak to ask for an iTunes disk and the walk back again. On my hands. Through custard. Carrying Andy Fordham.
Alas today, the internet connection seemed OK, good almost. So now who could I blame?
Twenty-five minutes of unavailable, unavailable, unavailable, the screen finally succumbed to a little red bit of text saying SOLD OUT. I got up at 8.30 for this. On a day off. And I’ve only had one coffee today.
*Listening to