I've just got home eager to blog about the evening's doings but I just can't get my head together for the moment. Why?
My wife is watching the Royal Variety performance.
Now light entertainment has never done it for me. In fact I find it quite horrific. And this years show for the benefit of Charlie and Camilla Windsor is no exception.
Since coming through the door I've seen one "comedian" prattling about his walk, Paul O'Grady uttering some safe banalities, and the spectacle of Barry Manilow putting us through a tortuous medley without once moving his surgically enhanced top lip. And if things couldn't get worse we've had choreographed karate set to music.
A grimmer vision of hell is seldom visited upon this Earth.
Edited to add: I've had enough. My brain's given up the ghost. I might blog about the wonderful time me and Stoke SP legend Andy B had on a stall tonight. Then again, I might not.