|06:45 pm - Interesting Times|
I am tiddly on my brother's rum, which I consider a reasonable state to be in on this erm 'interesting' afternoon. (I did live in a world before the EU, and as a Canuck, have always needed a passport to travel in same, but my foreigner's impression was that pre-EU Britain was an insular shoddy place to be. Mind, pre-EU was also pre-Thatcher and in many ways a happier more generous time.)
In pathetic fallacy fashion, my bicycle either has a slow leak or someone has been letting the air out of the tires. But I did solve one universal mystery today. 'Tell me where all lost socks are.' They're inside duvet covers. There. That's settled.