are a terrible combination. Trust me.
Groovy reunion night last night with Marcus, Ru and the lovely Clair. Started off at the fantastic Horse and Groom with loads of beer and crisps as, for some odd reason, the free sandwiches normally on offer were nowhere to be seen. We somehow got over the shock and heartache and proceeded to stuff our faces full of yummy crisps. Healthy meal? Nah, but it could have been worse. I was tempted to ask for some buttered white bread and ketchup to make crisp butties. Somehow I resisted. So we drank and spilled some wine and chatted about life in London, there was a bit of North vs South banter and then Clair upped and left us for her man. So we went to the Star Taverm which is one of London's finest boozers. We drank lots of great beer and then were joined by Ben and Kellie, who by total coincidence were dining around the corner at the Portuguese ambassador's residence. As you do. So they joined us and drank lots of beer until the bar shut.
Then we came home and I, missing the massive pot of coq au vin, cooked up bacon and eggs, with which we drank loads of bubbly. Then Ben and I drank whisky a put the world to right. Kellie, being smart, went to bed. Then we had to wake up way early to get them to the tube to get them on the plane to go back to Scotland. I felt fine at 630 this morning. 1130 is when I started feeling terrible.
And Kate won a Brit. Which is so totally awesome I can't believe it. Hurrah.
And, well, ugh too.