Actually, before this afternoon you couldn't have heard much at all. Or seen anything. That's because it was all overgrown to hell thanks to a complete lack of training after a #1 haircut 18 months ago that was never supported on the new rails and wires that someone was supposed to put up and couldn't drag himself away from his amps and drums and guitars and bloody singing programmes long enough to build.

Grapes only happen once a year, music never ends.

Unfortunately.

So this afternoon I hacked and slashed and pruned a pile of grapevine 2 and a half feet high and 2 and a half metres across. And then I started on the two foot high used-to-be-a-lawn-but-no-one-mowed-it back yard with the weedeater and ate myself a big chunk of grass and weeds.

Not that sort of weeds, unfortunately.

And after nearly 3 hours off and on beavering out there, I was utterly stuffed and it was supermarket time. I hate going to the supermarket, it's an ugly of shopping and I hate shopping. So now I have that disco inferno thing happening in my legs and someone nicked the firehose. Instead of sleeping, I stumbled around and found you these.

Toilet paper.

Graves (and tattoos).

Medical equipment.

Nasal hair.

Some really weird site about taking off your pants.

It was either these or dig the rose prickles out of my hands. I hate these bursts of energy; they can really wreck your ration book.