I was in the Coach of course and said a Soho prayer for him, but they had a fucking Christmas tree and Yee Olde Victorian advertisments for singalongs. Christ how things have changed for the worse.
Earlier had a jolly 'Christmas drink' (I'm joking) with Nic in the White Horse. We mused on the unsexyness of Australia amongst other things (Der yerr wanna do it agin?- Der yerr wanna go outside?) and the impossibility of me developing some kind of career path because of all the twenty five year old cunts coming up behind even if I wanted one in the first place and I despise even the word.
Julie arrived home resplendent in a new military trench coat and Russian hat, and to boot she'd been pushed and pulled in knee therapy in some other hospital. She enjoyed the experience so much the coat and hat were irrisistable. Very Carry On missus.
Kirsty's Home Made Christmas will now make me throw.