Last night at around half past eleven I got a call from the Chandos. The man on the phone told me that he had found my bag!! In order to confirm that it was mine HE started listing the contents to ME. It reminded me of Frank Oz at the start of the Blues Brothers - "One propylactic ... soiled". He had clearly had a good rummage - "Yeah - and there's ... some sort of script here..." *rustle rustle*
The script is for a show at The Old Red Lion. I have no idea when the show is, but once I work it out I'll post it here in some sort of attractive advert format. It's written by this very sweet parochial middle class woman in her sixties, who turns into a slavering demented psycopath the moment she puts pen to paper. She wouldn't say boo to a goose and keeps on trying to buy me sandwiches in real life, and then has me running around behaving like a retard and swearing more than Tarantino when he burns himself on the oven. Bless her.
But yes - the bag is returned. I would give you a photo but I don't have a camera. So that's a pretty useless sentiment.
Why is the time on this stupid site set to PST? There must be a way I can make it GMT so I don't have to change it everytime I post.