(I had to pay a total of £2.00 to use this computer, part of which paid for the weirdest flapjack I have ever seen. Cybercafes can fuck off. I'm considering downloading enormous amounts of pornography, and then running away as fast as possible. I'll let you know how this works out.)

I'm spending the next few weeks schlepping around the country, catching up with friends of various descriptions and telling the same five stories twelve dozen times. However, you know the best thing about England, besides Big Brother? Yep, it's the drinking age. 'Fucking hammered' about covers it. I'm like a kid in a huge, vodka-filled candy store.

Not thoughtful. At all. It's because it's a sunny day and I'm in the middle of Leicester for no real reason.

In a shameless gank from Tracy, it's Quote of the Day:

Me: So I've decided I'm going to Yale.

James: Eon, you didn't get hired by McDonald's. How are you going to get into Yale?

(n.b. the above is CRUSHINGLY TRUE).

Yeah, I'd better go.