So, hit Spiders with my brother last night. We were supposed to be getting there before ten, so as to get wrecked and secure our spot by the DJ for to stop shite being spun. Of course, the stupid sibling of mine doesn't get back from his grillfiend's place until quarter past ten. Not a good start.

Queues at the oor, but the bouncer still remembers me. This is a good thing. There's sellout crap playing. This is a bad thing. Lots of vodka later, I no longer care. I hand over a list to the DJ and wait. And wait. The place is getting far too crowded and the night is far too hot, sweating like a bastard just stood there. THen...

"Woe to you, O Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the beast with wrath..."

I actively hurt people to get to the floor. Fortunately, there's a core of people back from university who are also fans of proper music. Thus, we growl at the DJ whenever tripe comes on and he changes it. I end up punching the floor and generally air-guitar-playing like I was an extra in the next Bill and Ted movie. So yes, I enjoyed myself, even though I was burning up and sweat a lake.

So, England are 245-4 at tea, 150 from the follow-on. Vaughan has done good at 131 not out. Ahhh, Iron Maiden and cricket. This is a good weekend.