None of us are and nor must we be. It’s shitty, but it’s where we are.
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Noted
Them: HERE’S MY ITINERARY
Me: What in the freeze-dried hell…
Them: DON’T WORRY I’VE ALREADY BOOKED EVERYTHING BECAUSE I KNOW WAY MORE ABOUT GETTING AROUND LONDON THAN YOU
I get this quite a bit, the internet has a lot to answer for 
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I’m now remembering someone arguing up, down, left and right about the “nine course tasting menu” being advertised with an AI video on Instagram.
If it even exists it’s on Rye Lane in Peckham. I’m there quite regularly, you don’t have a scintilla of an idea, but you and your video know better.
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Them: take the tube from Queensway to Bayswater?
A lot of that kind of thing. Also a lot of Uber-junkies who have no concept of central London traffic.
What more than Honest Nige?
The PR PPB was a long time ago, it appears. Good job Cleese divorced later in life or he would have been full on Fathers for Justice.
Life imitating art? Surely Basil Fawlty would be gung-ho for Restore.
Cleese has a longish track-record of gammonry - 
Boy George has a longish track-record of exceedingly poor judgement -
Twats gonna twat.
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Apparently (disclaimer: I haven’t heard it) the work itself is AI white boy reggae. It’s like some sort of nexus of poop 
Now you can:
Ladders.
…actually, it’s gravity that really needs one.
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Oh dear…
I’ve been extremely fucking lucky.
Bloody hell Stu that looks serious 
Did you fall off the haystack?
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A friend did something similar recently. He was lucky not to die or at least lose the use of his arm (which he did temporarily).
I feel like I ought to start handing out “I am no longer 18 years old” pledge cards or something similar.
Anyway, glad that you’re relatively ok.
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