My hour for tea is half-past five, and my buttered toast waits for nobody.

So we went to see One Man, Two Govnors. Again. Because it's fun. Love a bit of British farce, me.

And it was a lovely day out, which I wasn't expecting, only being able to get tickets to the screening in my dreary home town, as it was. We arrived with hours and hours and hours to spare, forgetting that we we weren't commuting twixt cities, for once, and so we had brunch. It wasn't that bad, either. The cafe had seen better days, with crumbling concrete and kicked in doors (it must have been another typical Friday night in the old town), but the food was better than I dared hope, and, indeed, better than I've had in a cafe for brunch for a long, long while, so appearances aren't everything.

Ignored the big shopping mall to wander down the main street, which featured, and you could have knocked me down and served me whisky, get this, a brass band, ladies practising with big fans in the park (usually a nature reserve for drunks and drug dealers), a farmer's market and ...an ice skating rink! Okay, what have they done to my home town?!
( more: I've been everywhere man )