Apparently they would survive a nuclear holocaust.

Rats that is. Many days I feel like we should have one just to find out if this is true.

Rat update:-

I woke up this morning to find a dead rat next to my bed and a smug and self-satisfied (is there any other type?) cat stretching out the cobwebs next to me.

All's well that ends well, you may think.

Except that I locked last night's rat in my office when I went to bed.

So this is a new rat - and not quite fully grown at that. Which means only one thing. Floyd has found a nest and is picking them off one by one. Great, this is going to go on all fucking week.

Double bah!

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Anyway, a good friend came down to visit on Saturday so as befits civilised men we went for a meal and played

on the Gamecube until the wee hours. Old Skool Rules!

At the rather good Thai restaurant we went to however, we were seated next to a family from Scotchland (or possibly Newcastle, the accent was hard to pin down) who spent over an hour talking about some TV show called 'Britain's Got Talent' or something, for which there was a final that night.

An hour, in a restaurant, discussing nothing but a TV show that was on at the same time. Did they not consider just getting food delivered so they could watch it? Eventually the suspense got to them and they cracked and called the mother's sister to find out the results as they couldn't wait until they got home.

My friend and I walked home shaking our heads at how anyone could care that much about a reality TV show. The family in question were probably having a similar conversation as to how two perfectly normal people could spend an hour debating how a potential move to a 3-day County game could have severe ramifications for English test cricket. They'd be wrong though.

Cricket is important :-P