#157. A box of Frosties, a Cadbury's Creme Egg and a lollypop...

... is what Bruce returned with when we sent him off to make us food. An evening which promised little, delivered a lot and further proved the phenonemon that I've watched Withnail and I plenty of times, but never actually seen it. An evening in which I was eyeing the Micro Machines game with nostalgic rose-tinted spectacles, but never got to play. Until, of course, I wandered into the netsoc room and found some random Russian had pulled a 486 out of a skip and had installed a bunch of games on it, including Turrican, Lemmings and, of course, Micro Machines, to which I proceeded to try to beat my old time trial times (some of which I still remember).

A chap approached me while I was waiting on a bus the other day. In a thick London accent he informed me that he was not a heroin addict and asked me would I have "2 euros" to spare as he was trying to get a ferry home. I told him it was pronounced "2 euro" and sent him on his merry way.

New shoes seem to be broken in already, in record time. The only problem in the foot department is a sore toe, which ironically was caused by stubbing said toe on said new shoes in the dark. Malcolm likes them. He licked them and made me look at the saliva.