The Big Debate

In the end I went down the Hole for Ben's leaving drinks. Ben actually left the good old Arvon Foundation about four months ago, but people ahve kids and you know how long it can be to synchronise diaries. Good night though. Usual pattern we convened in the pub, and as soon as the music got unbearably loud and shit we crossed the bridge to the White Swan.

The white Swan is the very definition of a sad old gits pub.

It's great.

You can always get a seat - no matter how many of you there are - and you can always get served. plus they sell Bombadier which I feel nostalgic about because it's a Charlie Wells beer from my hometown.

And we drank and talked about books and I staggered the mile home at 12.30 and had to sleep in the attic (there was a cross note...)

And today Clegg seems to have been declared the victor in the big debate. Odds on a Lib-Dem govt have gone from 300/1 to 14/1. Which seems to be a bookie crying out - in his anguish and his pain - 'we have no chuffin idea what is going to happen! None at all.' Exciting times in a low-key way (because, like the nasty little attention-seeker from UKIP says (and rightly) in this instance) - 'it's not about a change of government - it's about a change of management.'

And tonight I'm off to see a boxing match...