An old link but one well worth repeating given the current political stuation. Wait for it to download totally before clicking play and the wait will be worthwhile. Honest.

Up until today, I have enjoyed the discipline of blogging, self imposed as it may be, but nevertheless a challenge worthy of my best efforts. Faced with a virgin page on this day however, I fear the challenge may be beyond me.

Maybe I expended all my creativity during the last lesson of the day, or had it sucked out of me...and yes, you know who you are! I only gave you the URL so I could wind you all up! Mind you, we did rather rush the question and answer session at the end, didn't we? Do I feel a slight tickle from my muse? Hardly the lusty strike I have come to expect but, in the absence of anything better, I could take this opportunity to fill you in on the details we didn't have time for. So, Q & A it is then.

What's the best meal you've ever had?

Anything I've ever eaten after eleventeen pints in a convivial hostelry. Next!

How would you describe the way you dance?

If I'm conscious of the fact that I'm actually dancing, then awkward, pathetic and bad are three adjectives that spring immediately to mind but whenever I succeed in transcending this knowledge (and to this end I find Stella exceedingly helpful), then freestyle, abandoned, wanton and reckless would only give you a very rough idea indeed. This might help.

When did you last laugh until you cried?

I mark homework. Enough said.

What are the three essential ingredients of love?

Place one Nastassia Kinski, one Jenny Agutter and one Sharon Stone on a king sized bed. Stir well, add aphrodisiac of choice, lashings of double cream and a drizzle of coconut oil and lead me to it. I think that just about covers it.

What TV show did you never miss as a child?

Noggin the Nog, The Magic Roundabout, Doctor Who (half missed as I was behind the settee for most of it), The Woodentops and Morecambe and Wise are entirely responsible for shaping the malleable child I was into the even bigger child I am today.

What does your favourite outfit look like?

Black, slinky, diaphanous and preferably sliding off the shoulders of any of the three ingredients of love.

What is your favourite meal of the day?

Hey, as long as it's liquid, who's fussy?

What's the worst haircut you've ever had?

The next one.

What's the worst thing about travelling by air?

Hungarian flight attendants saying "Coffee, please." and having to reply "Sorry, fresh out I'm afraid, but I can roll you a cigarette if you'd like."

In what ways are you like your mum or dad?

We have the same surname. I don't know. Ask my brother. He'll tell you.

How would you describe a perfect Friday evening?

See yesterday's post concerning leisurely bender.

What are you really good at?

Rolling cigarettes.

When did you last feel annoyed and why?

This afternoon, when alighting from the bus in the centre of town. Standard Hungarian procedure for waiting to board a bus goes something like this. Loiter at bus stop or anywhere within 10 metres thereof. On sighting bus, surge lustily towards roadside. Coagulate towards any one of four doors of bus. Express surprise that there are people that actually want to get off. Move exactly three centimetres in any direction to assist them in doing this.

How good are you at lying?

Not been reading this for very long, have you?

When did you last take a taxi and where were you going?

Too boring to even contemplate. Next!

What's the wierdest thing you've ever eaten?

Lung soup. I do not wish to expand on that.

How would you describe your favourite T-shirt?

Apart from threadbare, you mean? Okay, a phantasmagorical, multi-coloured extravaganza featuring Dougal from the Magic Roundabout doing his impression of a misunderstood artist. "No wonder van Gogh cut 'is ear off."

How do you relax?

By staying up later than the people I live with.

What are you most looking forward to this week?

Giving Ipswich a damned good thrashing tomorrow. The cask strength Laphroaig in about 15 minutes and the drawing of the Hungarian lottery tomorrow evening. It hasn't been won for about a year and the amount is staggeringly, mind-bendingly, trouser-bulgingly enormous. It just might be my lucky day.

What sort of music are you listening to these days?

As ever, the good stuff. Jeremy Isaacs, Boss Hog, Roberta Flack and my tune of the moment, Yamore by Salif Keita, which reminds me, I really must send that one to Jessica. If that doesn't get her vital fluids pumping, then I'm a sesquipidalian Baptist. Don't ask, I'm not too sure meself.

Toodle pip!