8:10pm. Okay, have to leave the club now, cos the Mancunian Massive have taken the place over and have demanded the Telly is switched over from the cricket to some ghastly footy. Since I can't get my own way, I'm off, back to the cat, hoping we're still on speaking terms despite not stopping off at the local tandoori to buy his favourite (and I'm quite partial to it meself) Chicken Tikka Massala. Perhaps another night.
That's all folks.
Tractor, September 2006.
That's all folks.
Tractor, September 2006.
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