One night when the season had started to change, and the summer sun seemed to be an ever growing distant memory, I fired it up. You see, I rely on my weekly prescription of the finest trance in a 2 hour portion which all of the UK should follow.
From this day forward we shall say 'No Gary Barlow, you old twat!' 'No Sharon Osbourne with your face like haunted tupperware!'
And cry 'Yes to Alex Pepper! Yes to Proxi! Yes to Trance!' And instead of surrounding ourselves with Shit Factor we will arise Britain and GO Outside!
