Ladies and Gentlemen...

...I have an astonishing announcement to make. Incredible as it may seem, both the evidence of our eyes and the observations of science lead us to the inescapable conclusion that someone working for The Guardian has a sense of humour.

This will have been one of your Earth 'weekends'.

There isn’t a single major muscle group in my body that doesn’t hurt in one way or another. I have a string of bruises all over my body, and I think that the sore spot on the back of my arm is probably a cigarette burn.
I love going clubbing.
So, Manchester for a weekend. Some things of note – firstly the pro-war march on Friday by what appeared to be the entire Iraqi and Kurdish population of Manchester. It was wending its way past the Students unions when I saw it, and the looks of astonishment on the faces of the passing students was amusing, to say the least. Even more amusing was the “Socialist Worker” seller (Headline: “No to war on Saddam”) getting cornered by a couple of angry Kurds whom, as far as I could make out, had lost family members to Iraqi mustard gas attacks a couple of years ago. They were, unsurprisingly, not very impressed with the message the SW was putting out.
Didn’t do the all-nighter on Friday, but off to Rockworld on Saturday where they’ve opened up the fourth room for the first time in years and stuck the Goths in there, making room for ‘Skate/Obscura/Emo’ in the back room instead (Gosh, I bet raggedhalo is kicking himself for not going now). Plus of course the fine Angus Young lookalike, complete with school uniform & devils tail. It makes me think the next time I go out I ought to wear a vest and a flat cap…
Then on Sunday hefty walking round Alderley Edge, where the wench got the bright idea into her head that climbing up the edge would be a cracking wheeze. By the time we got to the top I was too knackered even to beat her for this one.
And so home again home again jiggetty jig.

Addenda!
driving through the dodgy outskirts of manchester, I couldn't fail to be tickled pink when we drove past a 'massage parlour' (yeah, right) which had a sign in the window: "Back entrance now open".
Made me laugh all weekend, that did.