Drinking a Guinness or two with my old mate Martin Spanki and his friend Paul. Haven't seen Martin for a couple of years, since my infamous attempts at busking here, which were almost as bad as Gibraltar but with significantly more drizzle. Anyway, Martin sells screen printed hoodie tops, glowing mesh mini-skirts and assorted fetish gear, over t'internet, and at his little shop on Sidney Street. Paul plays guitar and sings with Mudlow, Wild Palms and My Name In Lights, and runs a music technology course somewhere. Anyway we head back to Martin's one man hoodie printing sweatshop for a couple more cans of Stella, and a whole load more catching up on good times. Martin has given up smoking, is now seeing a nice girl in a black bikini with shocking pink hair, has bought a new eighteen ton compressor with a broken wheel and an ancient Lambretta 50cc scooter, and is taking up industrial orchid cultivation. If only I could compete.