"In't being twenty-seven BRILLLIANN'?", as the fast-show kid might say... Well, no -- not yet. It's been mixed. Rubbish happenings at work (e.g. the COSPAR deadline zooming quietly by), but I've had a good drawing-out of the birthday experience so far. Up in That London to visit broken-ankled Neil on Tuesday night (as he couldn't make it to the Tup on Saturday for the birthday drinks), watching Fawlty Tars as the drunken levels increased. Which was good, and I even managed to not fall asleep on the train (as I did between the last two blog entries), thereby saving the �36 it would've cost to get home from there.

Then lastnight I investigated the Tup with Abi, Haze'n'Frase, Wildman and a post-ju jitsu Fletch for some on-the actual-birthday drinkage. Seems a nice place, so we're going BACK on Saturday for the Official Birthday Show (without HiThisIsWes).

Today was going swimmingly until a) we had a meeting that lasted much too long to be useful; b) I realised I had me shorts on back-to-front; and c) I remembered that somehow yesterday, I had broken RDI_CAL. How unlucky is tha'? I've reverted to Friday's version 2.3, which works. But doesn't do much else. Need to fix that after I've refereed a bit. Just realised whose paper it is too! Blimey. Can't say here, obviously....

Dr Buxey is coming Daaan Saaaf on Friday night to see his dad, once he's disentangled himself from all those network cables, and will be popping up for Saturday efternoon's bowling'n'boozing.

Meanwhile, I'm not clambering tonight, as I've got to get this report done. I'm being leant on from afar.

More shite later.

Oh, and I got a kite for me birthday! Will be brought along to Cornwall and all other places that have hills or beaches. Hurrah!