Brief update. Scully and I went to see Russell Brand on Wednesday. He was not as funny as I thought he'd be, and I can't remember a heck of a lot of the material, apart from the lengthy analysis of all the Andrew Sachs business, and a particularly icky bit referring to "Mummy Helen" Mirren. Sigh. Had a bloody good night though all in all, I felt like I'd drank Canal Street dry.
Fish and chips flavoured crisps. Wrong.
I finished reading Patsy Palmer's autobiography... EDIT... and although I didn't like it at the time, I learned to love it.
On Friday my Polar F11 arrived, and it was good. Sure it told me I'm off the chart fitness-wise (and not in a good way) and it's taken me hours to work out how to transfer data from the watch to my computer, but it's a fucking good bit of kit. The best part is being in the gym messing up other people's heart rate readings due to the electrodes across my chest. Hee hee. We went walking all round Penwortham yesterday and I think I burned off 650 calories just doing that. Most impressive.
Not a lot else to report. We went out drinking with Annette and Carol and I couldn't really keep up and now I'm paying for it.
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