Here's a rare shot from the day job - with Bob and Marisa at the Mentoring awards on Monday: good speech Bob!
And here's Mr Spizz with ace drummer, caterer and thespian Justin Denim at Acoustic Suicide on Thursday:
Folllowed swiftly by Bristol's S J Esau putting in a stirling performance at the very end of Saturday's show, just after we managed to eradicate the various gremlins that had accompanied the studio move, providing the show with a little extra frisson.
And the now rather creepy empty space that was once the conrol room and has taken on the feel of present-day Chernobyl.
And since it's all change round here, a last photo of the Piccadilly Weepers (or at least one of them), which have finally succumbed to the razor blade in the face of encroaching greyness, an impending passport renewal photograph and a bloke shouting 'Teenage Werewolf' at me in the street the other night. It was fun having the Iberian peninsular etched upon my cheeks in salt and pepper facial hair, and we had some good times together, but all things must end.