Black cats bring good luck, don't they?
I like weekends... The sun continues to shine across the UK (and temperatures look likely to soar again by Sunday); Trump is buggering off to Scotland, where one hopes he will shut his orange gob for a while while playing golf; there'll be sweaty hunks in tight shorts grunting away in South West London today as Rafel Nadal plays Novak Djokovich in the Wimbledon tennis semi-final; and the BBC Proms Season opens tonight (more of that later, no doubt). Life is good.
However, the superstitious among us are quaking - they need Basement Jaxx [who, to my eternal shame, I discover I have never featured on this blog before] to sort them out with a bit of Good Luck!
Thank Disco it's Friday (the Thirteenth, again)!
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