I refer, of course, to 3 which De La Soul dictated was a digit imbued with Harry Potteresque mysticism, rather than the pluralised version of the phrase which gives the band The Magic Numbers their moniker.  I’ve never been particularly enamoured with the latter – though I bare them no malice – so I cannot imagine they’ll be featuring heavily on Selection Box any time soon.

La Pendleton skillfully handling a tool there. (Oh dear oh dear. Bloody hell, kill me.)

I can’t pretend that I am especially partial to the number 3 either, though if Victoria Pendleton expressed an interest in making that the number which share my marital bed for non-sleeping purposes, I’d be sure to ask my wife for her considered opinion on the matter.  Then do a spot of undignified pleading, obviously.  However, the number 3 is set to be something of a focus on the show over the next few weeks, like some sort of demented version of Sesame Street (because obviously Sesame Streetis renowned for its no-nonsense straight laced stiff upper lip lack of tomfoolery), as in a few weeks’ time Selection Boxwill be celebrating its third birthday.  Will you see a sea-change in accordance with the advance in age – no longer for us the tantrums of the terrible twos, from now on operating with a new-found pre-school application and shitted pants will become an ever-increasing rarity?  Nah, I’ll probably peddle the same old pelt punctuated by great records if truth be told, but let us celebrate the calendarial momentum all the same. Continue reading →