Dear Diary

This morning, I woke up and went with Rui to the Mannamead Weatherspoons on Mutley for breakfast. I used to hate the traditional English breakfast, but I love the sausage, beans, tomato and other items now. You also can't beat 1pound99 for a full traditional fry up either.

Not this morning though. No sausage, just an extra rasher of bacon that was saltier than cat food (or so I've heard... um....) and my beans were overcooked. My hash browns also tasted mysteriously of fish, which is never good. Never.

The Mannamead Weatherspoons gets a little worse every time we go there. I think it's officially dead to me. The food is always better at the Gog and Magog Weatherspoons in the Barbican anyway.

The afternoon commenced with a cappuccino at the Canadian Muffin Store. That's really the name, and I'm still weirded out that they are befuddled by my American accent. Aren't we like kissing cousins, or something? I then sat outside, ate a delicious muffin, drank my coffee, smoked my pipe, shooed off pigeons, and watched freaks... er... people walk past. I was also showered in small flowers from the blossoming tree behind me when the wind would blow, reminding me of the time I was a geisha in feudal Japan.

I then came home, where time mysteriously disappeared for a few hours. Ate a tuna/sweetcorn/chili sandwich, and chatted with Rui about comics for a long time. I think we crossed the line from quasi-nerd to uber-nerd somewhere in Cardiff or Bristol.

Now, to seal the fact that I'm a total nerd and have no life, I'm going to watch "Batman Begins" and go to bed.