Got up, toast, coffee and Cadburys Animals...watched a Nick Knowles report about a cyclist crashing into a milk float.

home, changed then Farringdon for a pint of London Pale Ale and Puregroove instore

Home for a shower, then Deacon Blue and Prefab Sprout in my pants.

Now drinking 3 quid plonk, wearing a brown suit and my grandad's purple peacock Harrods tie from the sixties , listening to "Hellhole Ratrace "about to go and play another gig and drink with my my lovely girlfriend and John Brainlove and friends.

Work really is remarkably fucking shit isn't it?