I met my first blogger the other day. Well, okay - it was a cheat of sorts. I have met her before although neither of us could remember exactly how long ago that was. (It was 7 years ago. July 11-14, 1997.) We reminisced in a “do you remember what freaks those other people were?” kind of way. I keep meaning to blog about it all but I keep thinking no-one would ever believe me. I know Pix would - she was there. Then again, the part of my brain that deals with denial of the unimaginable horrors that we encounter is in overdrive and it would take months, or possible years, of regressive hypnotherapy to even start scratching the surface.

Then again, the fact that I was absolutely shitfaced most of the weekend didn’t really help. That’s what happens when you try to keep up drinking with Roj Blake himself, Gareth Thomas. That was a mistake.

Still, it was nice to catch up and, despite not being in touch for quite some time, we chatted away for several hours. Or perhaps that was the (quite nice) Fuller’s Summer Ale giving me a bad case of verbal diarrhea.