We're in a pub somewhere on the Essex Road. I have no idea how we're going to get home, I only know that Julie is sitting opposite me chatting to Fiona. They're talking about mortgages and vaginas.
We've just done a favour for a mutual friend. He wanted an ad hoc soul choir for a track on his new album. I was happy to oblige, 'cus God knows enough people have helped me out in the past!
We had a blast trying to sound like a group of black Americans at a party; "if you wanna get in, then you gotta get down..." It's going round and round in my head.
I spent the morning finishing off the Hattersley songs before heading into town to meet a man about a Requiem.
Quite how I managed to get here from the centre of town, I've no idea.
January 11th, 1662, and Pepys learnt all about the customs associated with the court of Genoa and wrote the most tediously detailed account about it!