Work was quite good, actually. There's pressure to rush the new site out which is annoying me, but I finally got it up onto a testing place and had a few people look at it. The general concensus seems to be a good one and people like it because it's quite clean and quick. Yoz described it as "retro" and I'm not sure whether that's good or not.

Oh well.

I went and did my duty as a citizen and voted Liberal. I'm happy that Labour wona second term but I'd prefer to see Kennedy at the helm than smug-cunt Blair. Still. The point of the exercise was to stop the Conservative candidate winning Newbury - which he very almost did. The day I vote Conservative is the day Baroness Young is cast into the fires of hell and violated roughly by Beelzebub himself.

Attitude is back in Sainsbury's again. It had disappeared after I bought my copy last week and I wondered whether it had been mysteriously withdrawn again, but clearly it just went out of stock. More homosexuals in Newbury than I thought! Anyway - I was there for dinner buying and my dinner was somewhat gorgeous. Grilled chicken cut into strips and tossed in an almost-Caesar stylee salad with nicely ripened slices of avocado and freshly boiled sweetcorn, drizzled with a light dressing. Very yummy indeed. I'll be eating lots of nice fresh salad in France. Rah! Can't wait!

French Jeremy called to remind me about Paris Pride and re-affirm the invitation for the 22nd June. I've decided not to go because that's just before I stop having a guaranteed income, so it's a bit daft to spend money everywhere. He might come over for London the following weekend, which would be nice. I have been invited to stay at his house in Paris for a week in August. That's me sorted then: one week in Prague, a week in Paris, then three months in the middle of nowhere.

Up to the Wellington with Jon and Rob in the evening to escape a night spent infront of the TV watching the election results. That was quite fun and afterwards we ended up piling back to Jon's and watching election results anyway - and consuming gin as well. Paule rang from a bench on Winchester station to tell me he couldn't get home and was going to sleep there. We tried to get him to get a cab to Newbury so he could sleep in comfort, but it was a bit prohibitive at £50 and by that point I was far too drunk to drive.

I ended up staying the night at Chez Rennie, simply because I was too gin-sodden to face the walk/stagger home.