Although the blog suggests otherwise, I’ve not gone belly-up or been disappeared by Homeland Security. Visits from first James and then Mum and Dave-Dad (as opposed to Duncan-Dad) have eaten up all my time and quite a bit of Courtney’s.
Speaking of Courtney, she’s just walked in the door with two big bottles of my favourite beer (St. Peter’s English Ale, since you ask) to quell the pain of Norwich’s embarrassing 6-0 exit from the Permiership. My big green and yellow bruise is subsiding already.
17/05/2005
You couldn’t airmail me over some of that English beer could you?
Only, I’m about to receive a pride beating from a load of Thai teenagers when they find out who I support and the closest thing that I’ve got to Europe is Thai brewed Heineken.
The thirst is on.
21/05/2005
In related news, Meg found proper English sausages! Perhaps this country isn’t completely pointless after all… ;)