Why is it every time, recently, I've been to the Red Lion in the Old Town, had a pint of IPA, and then promptly spent Saturday feeling worse for wear? It's not like we had many, in fact the plan was to go onto Chicago's, except it's closed for redecorating.
Our Mutual Friend was great, except for the fact Sy had drunk all the Side Pocket for A Toad by the time me and Andy got down there 
But, as always, there was plenty of others to choose from, before grabbing transport to the Old Town and a curry, mmmmm 
Weird thing of the night? Walking into every pub and realising just how clean the air is, no smoke smell at all. And the bedroom this morning don't smell of ash 
Owh, bad gut ache, and not feeling at all in a fit state. In fact I'm going to leave this and go and lie down before I fall down
