The seven hours and 20 minutes of angst I endured last night did kind of take it out of me (what a strenuous life I do lead) and so today I felt a little zombie like. Talking of zombies, Dawn of the Dead is good, provided you're not scared of a bit of the old red stuff. Or chainsaws. Or...well, I won't give too much away - I'll just sum it up in a word, which is: Zombie-rific.

I'm going to Brighton tomorrow with the boyf. I'm excited because I've never been to Brighton before. I was put in charge of organising a B&B (begrudgingly... Him: 'I work during the day, what the fuck do you do?' - a valid point indeed), which I have done. I haven't seen a British seaside in YEARS. I think the last time was in 1999, in Norfolk, where there was a deranged 'entertainer' (called Juggling Jimmy) in a street in Hunstanton, who repeatedly failed at doing diablo or whatever that thing's called that's meant to fly up in the air then land back on the rope.

I'm digressing.

Yes, Brighton. Tomorrow! Yay.

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