Leave me alone, I was only singing.

I had a beautiful daydream yesterday, and today was full of nightmares from which I could not awake. Which is a bit mean. Still, I had my happy daydream. As you noted (I shall paraphrase here), "it is odd to consider that as I slave away in the office, men cruise around Stoke Newington Cemetery on bicycles for pieces of ass."

Oh, and so much more.

Luke took me to some ridiculously posh old house in Mayfair last night, where P Diddy played us his new LP. I am freaked out to report that a good half of what I heard was quite brilliant - industrial rap, boom-bap and the sort of shit Ghost would give his gold eagle to spit on. WEIRD. Also! There's a Twista featuring track, and if my ears didn't deceive me, dude was dropping hs Ts and doing a London accent for half of it. No doubt that's the Bizzle's influence. I texted said Biz, who was very excited, and also in Cyprus, but I won't tell you what he was doing, as it was rude.

I went to see Wade after, at Parlour, which is where we're gonna have the OH!/BOOM! launch party. More on that soon.

Married life seems to suit Wade. But oh, how I have missed him. Still. I am not surprised I spent the time of sleeping until the time of waking in such brainanguish. A little drunk, I bought a burger, boarded a bus, and read news reports on my telephone all the way home.

The US government was closely involved in the planning of Israel's military operations against Islamic militant group Hezbollah even before the July 12 kidnapping of two Israeli soldiers, The New Yorker magazine reported in its latest issue.

Emergency ban on bringing drinks and other fluids aboard planes should become permanent.

Desert of trapped corpses testifies to Israel's failure.