I am hungover as a bastard, and don't quite remember all of last night.
The Doctor took me to the World's Most Photographed exhibition, and there was a pint of beer and quite a lot of wine and even a vodka martini involved. Really am getting too old for this. Hangovers should not last into the afternoon. Though I have somehow acquired an umbrella.
There were lots of interesting snaps - including one of Adolf Hitler looking a bit of a knob in his lederhosen, and an extraordinary one of Muhammad Ali as St Sebastian. That said, the Greta Garbo ones all looked much of a muchness to a philistine like me, and all from one brief period at the height of her career.
The cat has been sympathising with my delicate state this morning. Just a moment ago he snuck in from the garden with another toad. The little sod.
I am now halfway through a bottle of coke and in the midst of some Christmas stories. The authors should get announced in the next issue of Dr Who Magazine - in about a fortnight - so I'll not name names just yet. Though I notice there's a blog or two dropping the subtlest of hints. Tut.
Oh, and blimey, London is going to host the Olympics. Bugger. Probably means lots of work for me to do tomorrow.
Monday 18 June 1660
6 hours ago