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

Mr Hiddleston posted this on Twitter this morning and it's so cute, the way the boy is actually star struck and comes over all fanboy with Miss Piggy. It is adorable.

Sorry, I was in sore need to a giggle. Key word being sore. The competing perfumes yesterday sent me tailspinning into such a headache I spent all night and all morning being most unwell. If only they could be persuaded to wear Charlie like that girl on the bus. I have a tolerance for that, at least. Oh yes. I was given a bottle as a gift once, cheap Avon toilet water that it is, a last ditch gift before everyone decided I was most likely to end up driving trucks for a living, probably, and I never really liked it but I must have been trying it on or playing with the bottle or something, I can't remember how, but old fumble fingers, as always, and let me tell you, my old dresser and room reeked of Charlie for two to three years solid. Solid being the opertative word. I remember the Charlie miasma being so thick you could carve it every time you opened the door.
( more: big hats, breeches and beards )