Last night

I didn't go to the pub after all. I just went home and cooked. After dinner I watched The Horror Of Frankenstein. Horror? My arse! It was just about as terrifying as the soufflé that didn't rise. I lost interest in no time, left it playing, and read another chapter of the Tim Hitchcock book. I finished the night with One Million Years B.C. and had a bloody good laugh. Bed at half past eleven.