To the Butt-mobile!
Oldmills built an estate car around an overflowing ashtray and called it the Volkswagen Nicotin. It does three packs to the gallon, but it's pretty zippy!
Bumped into Bryan on my way back from the liver clinic (I was discharged, without flying colours).
A fascinating horticultural exchange ensued. He is currently trying to resolve territorial tensions with a wasps' nest, and I waxed lyrical about the juiciness of my plums (the ones I borrow from the old orchard in IADT).
Oldmills was on his way to collect his student card (apparently you need a degree nowadays to grow ganja), and I was just popping into Marks and Sparks to buy some haggis (the only place in Dublin where I can find some, and a good way to kick off the diet ordered by Dr Ross, that supreme killjoy).