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Right, I'm off to bed early again. Throat feels as dry as a dead dingo's donger, and I suspect a night coughing up nothing but dead air is ahead (apparently, according to The Loved One after his visit to the GP this arvo, it is likely we both now have acute bronchitis).
Slite, you're in charge of drinks. I left the key to the drinks safe with WDE, but I've no idea where he is. Fortunately he has left the door swinging in the breeze, so that's not a problem at this time (effects of non-containment of primary ZCD ingredients rarely enjoin themselves to the present, preferring to pour themselves everywhichway down and up the timestreams).
Enjoy yourselves, friends. See you on the other side of my unconscious mind.
Cheers,
Marc
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