Just when I was congratulating myself on my leet typing skills, I come across a typo. Must be lack of motor function I think, but then I wonder - could it be...Freudian? Is it the message from Herne I had been waiting for? Is the lord moving in mysterious ways or perhaps it was the sweet song that calls the young sailors?
Anyway, not content with my usual teh, abotu and liek, I managed Turley. Or something along those lines. (Soemthing is another one by the way). I wonder if this has anything to do with a vague memory of the name Terry Turle? I am certain he had something to do with a classics documentary; maybe he was an even more unattractive Michael Wood? He was doomed in the spice stakes in the face of Wood's repeated boudoir shots and tight tan trousers. Possibly he was a wizened English man, I envisage him spraying spittle as he gets more and more excited about the ruins at Mycenae.
Dammit, I am too young to be losing my memory.
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