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Thursday 21st August 2003

I left Edinburgh this afternoon after a thoroughly enjoyable hour watching John Hegley reciting his funny and beautiful poetry. It was the perfect end to my stay, both entertaining and inspiring. If I could come back and do something half as good and life-affirming as this then I would be very happy.
Comedy doesn't have to be about hate and criticism or about righting wrongs. It can also be used for celebration.
He knocked his glass of water over and appealed for tissues from the audience. One lady gave him a nappy. It was wonderful.
And it was lucky that it wasn't a tampon.

The drive home is long and boring even for someone like me who is still enjoying the relative novelty of being able to bomb around the country in your own little coccoon (not literally). I had intended to stop in the land of my fathers and spend the night in York. But for the second time in less than a year I arrived there to find that all the hotels were full. It was around 9pm, but it's only Thursday. You'd think someone would have taken me in. The receptionist at the Hilton was particularly rude and unhelpful (and I suspect did have rooms but didn't want me in her hotel because I am a bit too hairy and possibly smelly). I asked her if she could reccommend any other hotels. She said they didn't have a phone arrangement with anyone else regarding vacancies. I said I merely wished to know where some other hotels may be, seeing as I was unable to stay at hers. She pointed vaguely down the street. I decided that I would boycott the Hilton chain from henceforth. I do quite a lot of touring and so this decision will probably cost the hotel chain upwards of £200 in bookings in the next ten years. If you could make a similar decision (or tell anyone you know who stays in hotels to do so) then we could really make Mr Hilton pay for one of his staff's slight disinterest.
I decided to press on for home. I was pretty tired, but made it back without any serious risk of death by 1am. It felt like a long time since I'd been here.
As I walked through my front door I could hear someone hammering on the door of the house opposite. A familiar voice wailed "C'mon. Let
me in."

I was home.

Incidentally I have been told by email that the Gameboy Advance version of Outrun is much easier than the arcade one. So much for my Pyhhric victory. I've had a Pyhhric Pyhhric victory. Which means that everything is fine!

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