I was Danny Rampling’s gardener (in my mind)

Steroid abuse fanzineI’m up at the crack of dawn this morning as I’ve got to re-paint the kitchen windowsill as someone earlier this year put pots and trays of seedlings on there and the excess moisture has made the sill look well rubbish now.

As you know I’m a great one at putting off jobs (I mean, it took me nearly two years to finish off painting the back of the house) so I had a cup of tea, some toast and had a flick through the Sunday papers to warm myself up.

I spotted this great piece about Danny Rampling in The Observer Magazine which really cheered me up. I really thought he went into retirement and was going to be open a “restaurant for clubbers” as didn’t he do a few closing gigs at Turnmills years ago? The best bit was where he mentions how he and his wife met, “at an after-party in a shed in someone’s back garden in Hackney.” Was that the VIP lounge of the garden shed or just the normal area where the rakes and the brooms made out of twigs are hung up? Brilliant! Big up London’s clubland!


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