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I'm on my way
2008-08-11 | 9:04 p.m.

I'm still cream-crackered from the weekend. Friday night, courtesy of Katie and Joey, I was introduced to something which has changed my life. Two beautiful little words which deserve to marry and live in splendour for eternity: Guitar Hero.

The plan was for several of us to meet at Katie and Joey's before heading out for the night. But having the choice of two guitars, a drumkit and a microphone can be a bit distracting. We eventually headed out 'after one more go' (read: thirty) at quarter to 11, and went to one pub and one bar before we started getting anxious, agitated and needed to go back before more withdrawal symptoms set in and somebody got hurt. We played until tiredness won by a mere whisker at 5.30 am and finally gave in to sleep. Now that was a good night.

For probably the first time at work today I had an 'I'm not too sure I feel safe,' moment. Picture the scene if you will: Court is in session and judge, jury and barristers are trying to decide whether a defendant is in a fit mental state to plead to a charge of murder. The defendant in question is a paranoid schizophrenic with a tendency for violent outbursts, who killed his mother and several months ago tried to gouge out Peter Sutcliffe (the Yorkshire Ripper's) only functional eye.

And he was going to be called to give evidence.

Three feet from where I was sitting.

And he wasn't going to be handcuffed.

Fucking hell...

Before he'd been called, and during one of the breaks, the judge decided I should swap places with the court clerk (because obviously it's fine if anything happens to him!). However it ended up being futile and all called off as a key witness turned out to be on holiday, so no mega excitement today sadly.

Talking of holidays, I didn't think I would be doing anything else this summer after Glastonbury and Belgium, but things can and do change, fortunately. On bank holiday weekend (22nd - 24th) myself, Katie, Joey and the usual Glastonbury crew (as well as one or two others) are going to, um, Glastonbury! We're going camping and to visit various other Somerset places including Cheddar and Shepton Mallet. Oh, I am excited.

The last (and only) time I went to Cheddar was pretty much exactly ten years ago, almost to the day. I'd been staying at the Longleats Center Parcs with my family, and my mum and I on one of the days went on an excursion to Cheddar.

I remember it with such clarity though and have no idea why. I remember there being a jewellery stall and getting a ring stuck on my finger, I remember a freaky insect landing on me at the bottom of Jacob's Ladder and then flying on to some poor boy behind me, I remember going up Jacob's Ladder and a pair of American kids, one moaning to the other that he was tired (their names were Jerry and Colin. WHY HAVE I REMEMBERED THIS, DEAR GOD), and going in the caves and a place with a dragon, and what I thought was a mannequin holding the door open and nearly soiling myself when the 'mannequin' stared back at me.

So yeah, Cheddar is ace. Only I can't think, write or talk about it without developing cheese cravings. Thank God I don't live there. Or in Bakewell for that matter.

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