They built me strong, but not strong enough

Had a great St. Patrick's Day night, after I went home and passed out and then got up again.

This makes my life sound like a Chumbawumba song - I would like to clarify that this is not the case. Emphatically not. Especially no hand-portable loud-speakers. They're so pedestrian.

We went to the excellent Island Queen pub just East of Angel along the canal. Brilliant. Stayed very late indeed. Wore a stupid Guinness hat as well. Remember to get the picture off Mat.

Among the erudite topics discussed in the pub were:
D-Hing (ask Jon)
Pleonasm
Con Aire (don't ask)
Dune
Beer
Danish barmaids
Rare Groove
F*sher
Keeping it real
The hidden coherence of sadness in Pink Floyd's lyrics, as opposed to the superficially depressing but ultimately nonsensical ravings of U2.
Dirty Oul' Town
Beer
Their tanks and their bombs and their bombs and their guns