Its Friday night in Newcastle. Having spent the day travelling there by train and then searching the city center for historical relics, we were in the mood to relax. Drinks all round then. The barman in the hotel suggested we might want to try a certain game played with dice in a box, and that kept us entertained for a few hours. Inevitably we were getting tired, so it was good night and off to my hotel room.

It was hot. Even with the window open I was gasping for breath. Are the radiators on? Apparently not. Getting to sleep wasn't going to be easy, and I lay there in a semi-comatosed state.

Then it started. People running up and down the corridor. Irate hotel staff banging on doors and threatening eviction. Just what I wanted in the middle of the night. Eventually Mr Angry got bored and wandered away. Now can I get some sleep?

The room next door proceeded to give me a muffled demonstration of sexual endurance. I heard the steady squeak, the woman whimpering. Please lady, just make him happy. Pretend. Just fake it, please, I want some sleep. I suppose in theory I could bang on the wall, but the truth was I was too hot and tired. Eventually so was he, and at last peace and quiet was restored to Newcastle. I started to drift off....

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!! Its time for breakfast. Oh joy....

Keeping of the Grass

Just wandered into the local sports centre to use the library PC there, and in front of the main entrance is a council employee, walking back and forth across the paving stones and cobbles, pushing a lawnmower with its little motor buzzing away merrily. Keep off the grass mate.