Right. Well after going up to my room, and writing that miserable entry, I perked up a little. Furthermore, when I cam back down again, James had made a good effort at cleaning up. For him, I mean. He still thinks that regular washing up is the preserve of the weak-minded. Well that's quite enough bitching. Anyway, he scraped some of the wax off the floor with a teaspoon, which is now sharpened. Andy, in his knowledge of these things, said this morning that it'd make a good prison weapon, tunneling tool. He also maintained that the bolsheviks had stolen his frying pan. Then he found it. Apparently the bolsheviks had merely hidden it. However, I digress. I was checking on the ol' Commonwealth, and it seems we of The Eagle Tavern have come to an arrangement whereby decision-making capabilities are directly related to attendance at the real Eagle Tavern. Mary lived at Danes Road in the second year, and lived near the Eagle, but was too scared of its local character to go there with me, so I'd never got round to going in it. I tagged along therefore, with Andy for a pint with his drinking buddies, including Dan. It was a bit busy owing to it being quiz night, so we had to sit in the lounge. The lack of seats made me think that I might end up being a bit periphery, but it wasn't so bad. It was quite upbeat really, considering that most people there were in exam mode. We were only there for an hour because of that. Bryony, who lives in our old flat, requested Andy, like the gentleman he is, to escort her home after Lemmying it, so I walked back home with them. Andy accused Bryony of reading Mills & Boon novels. She wan't too happy with that.

When we got home, Andy felt like a random walk. He sat outside, enjoying the crisp, pure night air, while I attempted to draw Paul and James out of the house. Paul came, and instead of the random wandering proposed, we finally got the recycling done. It went amusingly badly. We broke a fair amount of glass on the pavement on the way, but we got it done anyway. Naturally, next on the agenda was going on the swings in the park. Andy thought it wasn't safe for me to jump off the swings. I, who have jumped off many a swing in my days upon God's green earth and have never been in hospital except to visit, jumped off the swings. Paul and Andy were more impressed than was necessary. Either that, or they were taking the piss, but I don't think so. We suddenly decided to run over to the wall and race over it. Andy's long legs apparently avail him naught. I effortlessly overtook him and swept over. Paul also, who missed initial burst, and doesn't exactly have the same height advantage as Andy, easily got over. We both looked back to see Andy, long legs flailing with manifest futility, practically static at the top of the wall. After smirking a bit at that, we wandered home.