The Roquefort Files

to look at stories like this and to think that we passed through half of the places on the map just a couple of months ago. We avoided tropical storm Arlene (downgraded from hurricane just before we arrived) by the skin of our teeth and swam in the Gulf of Mexico at Pass Christian, just [...]

cast a long, long shadow over the weekend. Friday…I just don’t want to talk about Friday. Suffice it to say that working until 9pm while feeling that bad is an experience that I don’t intend to repeat in a hurry. Or, with luck, ever. Saturday was another rehearse-and-mix-recordings affair, followed by a cretin-free train home [...]

what a trial. It was Jez’s birthday yesterday, so I wandered down to the Star Bar to meet up with him and a few of the usual suspects for a quiet few pre-weekend birthday drinks. Fast forward to 1 am. Jez, despite being only barely able to stand, is dancing on the uplit dancefloor of [...]

The festival’s always a bit trying if you live in Edinburgh, but living slap bang in the middle of post-midnight buskers playing either bagpipes* or the same three Oasis songs over and over again is starting to irritate me ever so slightly. So apologies in advance if this entry is a bit on the misanthropic [...]

my word, the photos just keep coming. Courtesy of DaveM.

over at jjcasswell.com. Damn, we’re smooth.

consisting mostly of cooking, running and avoiding the pub, the weekend arrived and decided to make its presence throroughly felt. On Friday, Dave, Michelle and I met up with a worse-for-wear Jeff and assorted Mafia types in Hector’s (we’re becoming terribly gauche in our old age) for a speculative few pints. Vague plans to go [...]

of inward-looking diarism strained through a “wanky filter” (© JJC). Forward the RF!

I don’t know whether it’s the summer, the festival or the novelty of living above a brothel, but I feel like I haven’t stopped going out for bloody ages. And this isn’t blowing my own trumpet. More of a cry for help. Or a night off. On Thursday Cedric, a friend of Vanessa’s (he used [...]

(as is becoming traditional) was flat booze destruction day. We went for a curry at Tipoo Sahib just round the corner. I say “Tipoo Sahib” while in actual fact I mean “the 1970s”. Incredible place – a ’70s time capsule Indian restaurant in a basement, serving a wide variety of blandly identical curries. I recommend [...]