No sign of the shelves. No sign of Talulah (as the power tool will henceforth be known) either.

I can only hope that sanity prevailed.

The show last night was just great. Really good. We failed to get tickets to the early show and so found ourselves in the midnight performance (also known as "The Nasty Show") Ricky Grover was in fine form along with the other acts (the names of whom escape me for the moment)

The excitement came on the journey back to the flat where I was crashing. If you've been to London, you'll know about Black Cabs. The drivers are licenced, have to take an exam called 'The Knowledge' before being permitted behind the wheel and have an uninformed opinion on pretty much anything. Private Eye do a disturbingly accurate spoof on Black Cab conversations.

Now, the problem with Black Cabs is (1) They're really, really expensive and (2) There is never one around when you need it.

Which opens up a market for unlicenced mini-cab drivers. Now, these chaps wander about the streets offering transportation to the inebriated and stoned. A rate is agreed, and you find yourself hurtling toward your destination in a battered Toyota driven by a chap of dubious legal status and limited vocabularly (at least as far as English is concerned)

The guy last night had clearly been playing far too many video games. Into his old white Honda we bundled, on went his stereo with something so loud it made my ears bleed and we were off. Red lights were run, stationary traffic was dodged and bowels were considerably weakened by the experience.

4 hours sleep, and here I am - back in The House Of Oddness minding first-born.