So the stag night has crept up on me like a stealthy hunter on an unsuspecting deer. Friday. If you can read this, can do a passable boy impression, and are into the idea of dressing up in the gay capital of England, bring it on.

Meeting plumbers this morning, going to England this lunchtime. Family. Stag Night. Back in 10 days. More plumbing. Cycling. Wedding. Flipside. Invade Poland. The brain. Transformus. The Time Machine. Birmingham. Breathe. Luckily I found the ‘tussin and the ‘tonin last night, so the plane-ride may prove restful.

I was so pleased about the call I got accepting my art grant application to build a Time Machine for Burning Man this year that I completely forgot that there were two plumbers downstairs umming and ahing about the bombsite that used to be our house foundation. I thought more about