Domestic bliss:

Chez Roquefort has now been humming along nicely for a couple of weeks (for me; Ash was here during my week in Richmond) and I feel like we've properly moved in. To wit:

• We gots the internet! I've excised the shambling Cthulhu-esque beast that is BT from RFHQ's communication infrastructure and took great pleasure in cancelling their direct debit mandate. I'd explain the soul-destroying lethargy and incompetence that accompanied their repeated failures to connect our phone, but frankly enough of my life has been wasted being on hold to their customer "support" line, so you'll just have to imagine it for yourself. (Hint: it's sort of like death.) Virgin Media connected our phone, TV and internet in the space of a week from order to online. They win.
• Mart, Dom and I got wankered - there really is no other word to describe the state in which I found myself at 1 am after 6 pints - last Thursday. Mart is off to work in Braehead soon, so we took the opportunity to wallow in sentimental reminiscence over past Tiny Monkey glories. And to drink ourselves silly. The next morning I didn't so much worship as defile the white porcelain god.
• On Saturday Ash and I met up with Neil and the other Martin for a few in the Jolly Judge. Once again, a few turned into closing time and for the second time in a week I was laid low with an unplanned hangover.

And that's it, really; life burbles on quietly and happily. Mmm. Me likey.