La Reine est morte. Vive le Roi.

I was so busting after our trip down the M1 from Sussex to Nottingham I nearly pissed my pants. I knew I should've taken that piss at Toddington Services. It's just that there were so many people. Stuart said the urinal was nice but I couldn't come at it, and it served me right when I got to Nottingham, almost falling out of the car. I had lost all sense of humour completely. Fortunately we found Luke Framji's place really easily and he had vacated his bedroom just so we could have a place to sleep, all because he was a fan of Stuart's book! What a joy. I did a piss, and then I was so comfortable, I nearly passed out. I had to excuse myself from the "getting to know you" conversation with Luke and Stuart so I could pass out on the bed and I slept for 17 minutes. Then we just made it in time to the Lord Roberts to have a drink with Nicholson Dye, whom I've wanted to meet since 2016. I had my first drink in 6 months, an Amber Ale. I tried not to be too opinionated just because I was tipsy. Then we went to "Persian Empire" not for Fattoush but for four dishes that were not Fattoush. It was delicious. We got lost on the way home and ended up walking through the red bricky vibrance of Nottingham, a safe and multicultural city that feels like home. And we made it home to check our social media because we've been offline for most of the day. It had been a long start since leaving the Tudor stylings of Sussex and "Random Hall". I had the best compliment prepared for them, something about how "The only thing I didn't like about Random Hall was that we had visited at the start of our trip, and now every place afterwards is going to suffer the comparison." Isn't that a nice compliment? But then they hit me with 147 pound balance for two nights of food and drink and I cracked the shits and was like "Let's blow this pop stand babe." But when we really did get to a pop stand I didn't get out and piss. Ugh I was such a fool.

Oh, and the Queen died.Read more