DJDarren

God, I hate Kasabian. Shit thick music for drunks to yell along to after the football.

I saw them back before their first album came out, supporting the Von Bondies. They were fucking dreadful. A bunch of tracksuit wearing Ian Brown wannabies.

I have a space in my heart for their first four albums. They're perfectly enjoyable slices of indie that somewhat stood above the landfill shit that was otherwise getting airplay (fuck you Razorlight. Fuck you Kasabian).

Its fair to say that they and I grew apart from then on, as Chris Martin became more about the celebrity than the honest music, but even then, I never had any real problem with them.

They headlined Glastonbury last year and were excellent. Made me go back and listen to some of the records I'd ignored, and found that they were still a perfectly fine band. Considerably more poppy than they were, but not cynically so, I didn't think.

But I guess Martin comes across as a little too earnest, and his marriage to Paltrow a little too right-on, so the press kept digging in to them, as is their wont. That made people think it was popular to shit on them.

I was dismayed to find that the hospital I was born in has been torn down and replaced with a newer one. I'm only 44!

It's a roll, mate. Baps are tits, WAHEY!

As @silasmariner@programming.dev has already noted, there's no such thing as a "good Spoons". They're all McDonald's for beer.

But if you need to differentiate between two, you'd use their location.

That is: "Meet at Spoons by the station for a pre-town sesh, yeah?"

Or: "We were in Spoons next to Nandos. We'd had some cheeky piri piri and Damo went and shat himself when he necked a Stella! Absolute scenes, mate. Pure bants."

My Mum died recently and my step dad is shit with tech, so their password book was invaluable in helping us gain access to her Apple account and her phone. It meant we were able to get to her iCloud passwords, so now we have access to everything.

So yeah, password books are actually pretty handy.

There’s only one Spoons near me. It’s called Spoons.

Tangerine Tosser was right there.

I'm calling foul. There's no way an absolute ledge would call it "the Spoons". It's just "Spoons".

Not that I'd drink there, mind. Fucking Brexit Arms.

Does it count that I have four computers running Linux because I can't help myself?

On the phone itself? I don't think it does. The Wallet app doesn't work at all for NFC payments in GrapheneOS, because Google are shit heads.

I'm also in England, though in the South, where we're all soft fairies.

And yeah, the response can be annoying, but the way I see it, I'm a gobby, fat, mostly-straight cis guy who's married to a woman, so the abuse I might receive is nothing compared to some others. So if I can go any way at all towards helping to normalise something as benign as painted nails on a straight man, then I will.