expanded to cover all available free time last week. Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you. On Wednesday we ate a shitload of curry and drank too much beer; on Friday Josh and Devon hosted a murder mystery party at which I spoke in an Irish “accent” and drank too much wine, and yesterday the three amigos had a light 10-hour boozing session during which I drank too much of everything.

In between the drinking madness, I took Josh to the airport to pick up a parcel and stopped in at guitarguitar to test-drive one of these with a view to buying something like this. For a guitar that only costs £349 new, it was pretty bloody good. And helpfully, I can now play the bass well enough so that demoing one in the middle of a crowded shop is no longer the cringe-inducing stumble through a pathetically easy bass staple that it used to be. No, now I cringe-inducingly stumble through a pathetically easy bassline that I came up with.

(A workmate of mine, upon reading the RF – poor guy – opined that the tagline should be “Guitars, girls, drinking and hats”, instead of “Travels to the pub and back”, and to be fair, he’s right on the two least exciting points.)

Today, I went again to look at some flats. I saw a few nice ones, but of course, no flat is ever perfect. One of four things will be wrong with any given flat. It’ll be either:

  1. too expensive, or
  2. too small, or
  3. too far away, or
  4. above a fishmonger and you’ll like totally remember when your sister lived above a fishmonger in Marchmont and their flat completely smelt of fish the whole time

so you see my problem.