For those of you interested in such things, tomorrow's Guardian has an interview with Russell T Davies OBE, purveyor of stupendous character moments and shite plots to the nation's youth. It is hereabouts. Can't find the exact link. I'll just say Doctor No 11? AMY WINEHOUSE. I SHIT YOU NOT.
:::manic laughter to fade:::
Completely rubbish day at work today. I was finished with actual work by 7pm but had to wait for the result of the Federer/Nadal game, which tripled my workload because there were three contingencies: Federer wins, Nadal wins, bad light stops play. Then there was some dithering in case we could get a better picture. (which we couldn't)
I got out of work and some unutterable tosspot had broken the wing mirror on my car, started the drive home, then got caught in a huge tailback because someone had been following Greater London Driving Rules (green light - go; amber light - go faster! go faster!; red light - oh just another five cars then) and totalled their idiotmobile in Bow. Police *everywhere*. Huge tailbacks. Beeping and screaming.
So there was the world's biggest detour, and I finally walked in the door at 10.45.
This is a pants life.
Anyway, to finish on a good note: happy birthday to