Sunday 25 May

Is this the European invasion we’ve heard rumoured for so long? Certainly Miss Jordan thinks so, shooting three Hungarians between the eyes before breakfast. Alas for her and luckily for me (up in the beams with last night’s chips and a potato gun), it is simply a harmless arts festival around and about Oxford Road. It is on such occasions that the Gaffer takes his buggy into town; or rather the Gaffer’s wife drops him off before going shopping with our footerballing subs. On the roof of Crowded we witness comics of a quality varying from my ‘funny, earlier posts,’ right up to the current ‘I preferred your funny, earlier posts.’ The weather, as ever, isn’t great, and you would think the dripping underbelly of many a bridge had been designed specifically to shelter shrieking musical ensembles dressed in luminous romper suits, rather than transport them in by the dozen.

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