Pizza, Prog & Rockabilly

Up with the sparrows and off to London. The sparrows, incidentally, sleep on their backs with their beaks poking from the duvet in a neat row.

Spent most of the day writing on a several page brochure about printers. At lunchtime First Matie drove me to Sainsbury's and, on returning, I mumbled on my sandwich and worked on the printer brochure again. Time hibernated. Some 100 years later, I left work the shadow of a man, after Kate had rewritten my brochure to stop it being rubbish.

Then a slightly disrupted journey home, but heard from Mex whose important job interview had gone very well. Also heard from Anton, who was sans Anna (on a coaching course). So on returning to Brighton, I sidled up the road, to gorge on Anton's own unbeatable pizzas and polish off some Polish beers. While thus engaged, I also spoke on the phone to the Cat with the Hat, who was pleased with our meeting yesterday, and to Lorraine.

Anton and I had an excellent evening, listening to increasingly erratic tunes. We ended the night assailed by mighty prog rock legends Yes, and several rockabilly versions of Clash songs. Both being tastes that, with the best will in the world, are difficult to acquire.

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