Back at the New Age club where two years ago, if memory serves, Matt got rather hammered on red wine and vodka and as a result spent much of the day giggling like an idiot into the PA system. Talking of being hammered, a certain Norwegian singer/songwriter who shall remain nameless is currently on a period of probation after waking the hard-working crew on several occasions during the night with his debauched drunken behaviour. As a result ear plugs will from this moment onwards be referred to as "Anti-Petter Plugs" (ah, I wasn't supposed to name names now was I).
Earlier when we were setting up the stage, a single black sock fell out of a flight case, and out of that sock flew a moth. It was a moment of quiet poetic beauty that nicely broke up the drudgery of the tour.
It's driver Tim's birthday today so I expect we'll be having a few drinks in his honour later, and perhaps a whip-round for a present. It shouldn't be too difficult to find something for him - his two favourite things in the world are sports cars and breasts.