Daft London

Artrockers,

The night before last my bed fell apart, it simply gave up the ghost right under me and fell in splinters, leaving me and my mattress on the floor. Not good. So next day I hit the Ikea website (the mattress is from Ikea and their mattresses are non-standard sized, which means that if your bed isn't from Ikea it will eventually fold under the strain and fall apart in the middle of the night, I have just discovered) to source a new one. I found what I needed and whipped out the old debit card to discover that 'this item is not available on-line'. What? Really? Why the hell not? So I had to jump in the motor and take the drive of death, the route from Brixton to Croydon is hellish at the best of times, and this was the worst of times.

Anyhow, I got my bed sorted, it just arrived and a family member is assembling it now upstairs. I'm hiding away in the office writing this, you really don't want to be around somebody who's putting a flat-pack piece of furniture together, the air turns blue and strange pieces of connecting gear start flying around as frustration turns to physical violence meted out to innocent bits of melamine.

I can hear him now, I'm staying here, hidden.

It's a great relief to have sorted this before the clamp-down. In fourteen days time London will become a gridlocked nightmare and will remain so for at least a month. Yep, it's great to welcome The Olympics to London, we're all so excited we can hardly stop yawning.

There will be blood this summer, but it won't be as the result of some imagined terrorist threat, it'll be spilt on the Olympic lanes as Londoners discover that for four weeks they simply don't matter.

I'll be lying low, if the weather ever improves I'll be out of here faster than Mr Bolt, don't care where, just as long as it isn't London.

And now that I've written it several times I'm suddenly aware of what a funny word London is- LON DON, LON DON, the more you say it the dafter it gets.

Almost as daft as holding The Olympics in one of the busiest cities in the world. But not quite.

Tom Artrocker