In which we win at hotels and subsequently at life. ISIHAC.

I've just been to see two episodes of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue being recorded. My jaw still hurts. I am all entirely glee. Read more below, or not, but I would, frankly.

First off, we stayed at a hotel. Said hotel, which turned out to be massively posh and Victorian seaside-esque only without the attendant crumbling of the facade, was booked while it was in the process of upgrading its computer systems, and so the booking was slightly lost, meaning slemslempike - who arrived some hours before I did - was unable to book in. As a result of this inconvenience, they upgraded us free of charge, which I didn't know could happen in hotels. We ended up in the Royal Suite. Mostly the Royal Suite was massive enough to make us laugh hysterically every time we unlocked it. We had, and I jest not, a choice of televisions. There was a bedroom, a bathroom, a lobbyish thing with a wardrobe and a trouser press, and a living room. A fairly sizeable living room with a sofa, a marble fireplace with roses in it, a table with mineral water and mints on it, two hard chairs, two armchair, a telly and one of our two writing desks, should we both simultaneously be in need of writing desks. slemslempike lost me at one point. That's how big it was. Really it needed its own public transport system. We could've held a con in it. What we did mostly was eat doughnuts, watched bits of the Grand Prix, returned after ISIHAC all cocky with the traffic because frankly what did it matter if we were mashed by a juggernaut after seeing ISIHAC, and then we lolled in the armchairs, in our LIVING ROOM, and watched highlights of the snooker. How much do we win?

And this morning I left slemslempike asleep and went to catch a train. I wrote her a note so she wouldn't feel like Hawkeye after Trapper and BJ went away and then I texted her to be quite sure she wasn't dead, which it turns out she wasn't, so hurrah.

( In which I spoil two episodes of the upcoming series of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, a bit like a magician who's about to get kicked out of the circle. )

PS. Those episodes will be aired on November 13th, I think, unless that isn't a Monday.

In which we win at hotels and subsequently at life. ISIHAC.

I've just been to see two episodes of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue being recorded. My jaw still hurts. I am all entirely glee. Read more below, or not, but I would, frankly.

First off, we stayed at a hotel. Said hotel, which turned out to be massively posh and Victorian seaside-esque only without the attendant crumbling of the facade, was booked while it was in the process of upgrading its computer systems, and so the booking was slightly lost, meaning slemslempike - who arrived some hours before I did - was unable to book in. As a result of this inconvenience, they upgraded us free of charge, which I didn't know could happen in hotels. We ended up in the Royal Suite. Mostly the Royal Suite was massive enough to make us laugh hysterically every time we unlocked it. We had, and I jest not, a choice of televisions. There was a bedroom, a bathroom, a lobbyish thing with a wardrobe and a trouser press, and a living room. A fairly sizeable living room with a sofa, a marble fireplace with roses in it, a table with mineral water and mints on it, two hard chairs, two armchair, a telly and one of our two writing desks, should we both simultaneously be in need of writing desks. slemslempike lost me at one point. That's how big it was. Really it needed its own public transport system. We could've held a con in it. What we did mostly was eat doughnuts, watched bits of the Grand Prix, returned after ISIHAC all cocky with the traffic because frankly what did it matter if we were mashed by a juggernaut after seeing ISIHAC, and then we lolled in the armchairs, in our LIVING ROOM, and watched highlights of the snooker. How much do we win?

And this morning I left slemslempike asleep and went to catch a train. I wrote her a note so she wouldn't feel like Hawkeye after Trapper and BJ went away and then I texted her to be quite sure she wasn't dead, which it turns out she wasn't, so hurrah.

( In which I spoil two episodes of the upcoming series of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, a bit like a magician who's about to get kicked out of the circle. )

PS. Those episodes will be aired on November 13th, I think, unless that isn't a Monday.