As the anal one in the lopsided Sideburn triumvirate, I try to spot mistakes before the mag gets to the press. Concentration is all, so, following in a long tradition of making excuses ahead of the game, I'm blaming these blood suckers for any obvious lapses.
Once, there was a time in Italy when mosquitos came out at dusk and bugged you through the night - and those gits are still going strong. But over the last 20 years the Asian Tiger mosquito has arrived, and they've got a sort of tag-team thing going on, taking over at dawn when your traditional mosquito knocks off. Nasty. Little. Bastards.
And that blood? Well, who knows. Mine? The neighbour's? The neighbour's mangy dog? Anyway, must be off, I feel a touch of West Nile Virus coming on... MP
It is thanks to Mick; despite the mozzies, that SB#6 - and most of #2, #3, #4, and #4, is grammatically correct. His official job title is 'Sub Editor' but as it's only me and Gary at the helm (already 178 miles apart), when the going gets choppy and/or we run out of serviceable brain cells (which is quite often), it's Mick in Rome (another 1297 miles away) that we turn to across the ether.
Cheers Mick. BP