last night degenerated somewhat. as i mentioned we were at the white hart, then baltic which is on blackfriars road before heading over to the Pit bar underneath the Old Vic. the latter is pretty good if you're in the area for a late night drink as it's open way past pub closing. fucking bizarre clientele though - a mixture of theatre-goers, luvvies and wasters. better than cubana up the road which has recently ascended completely into chav status IMHO. probably because there's so many goddamn suits in there all the time. run by doctors from tommies up the road so i hear... must be crap.
it was the bishop's leaving do (just finished his PhD in pain... of all things) and yes am feeling rough today. bloody good night though.
this bookcase is really really pissing me off. it doesn't bloody fit together. don't worry - i don't have those hampers. i haven't completely descended into an existential crisis yet. i hate ikea (the one in croydon is particularly grating).
[i have been listening to Evil by Interpol]