Stair Well?

Or toilet. Something like that. Still very much into black and white at the moment, not something that reflects my mood, just that a lot of the images I get now I don't think require any colour. Like this stairwell that takes you to the car park in Lincoln above the bus station. I must confess I only snapped this because I liked the different lines everywhere, something that works better in B&W. The smell of urine meant I didn't dwell on the shot.

Last night I went to a sportsmans dinner at Sincil Bank and met Norman Whiteside a Man Utd *spits* legend. It was great, three course meal and a free bar on my company. I was doing the organising and business chatter for a while, then ended up somehow in Walkabout in Lincoln at 2am. I got home, not sure how and appear to have undressed in my living room in the mistaken belief I was in my bedroom. I did banish the drunken text demon though, only one sent and having reread it, I meant every word (you know who you are).

No words today, the numerous pints of Carling and Jagerbombs (I forgot about those. That's where my money went after the dinner) have rendered me barely able to speak let alone form anything sensible. So I shall leave you with something I recall from The Boo Radleys circa 1995:

They asked me for some words,
To clear up all their hurts,
They wished that they weren't them.

I said the only thing I've got more of is time,
This isn't what you think,
But it's not what I thought it would be.