Kiss Concert.

Mutterings continued.

No, I didn't go, I'm not a fan - I did get a letter from the promoters advising that there was going to be a lot of noise at the WACA last night. Wasn't that nice of them? All I heard was some rumbling in the distance, which I thought was thunder but apparently was a sound check (thanks for clearing that up, Steveg).

Am I the only person not to be frightened by the movie Psycho? Perhaps knowing the plot and the "scary bits" for a long time before actually seeing the film inured me to it, but I have to say I found it pretty uninteresting.

America remakes The Office, but no one's laughing. As Mr Gervais says, "This isn't our baby," he told the Los Angeles Times. "We sold the rights. It's like selling a house and then you keep turning up, saying 'Why are you changing the fireplace?' I've done my bit."

Leece and Rob are coming over for dinner. I've made savoury fish cakes (god it's a messy job! I end up with salmon and potato and egg and flour and breadcrumbs all over my fingers, the taps and everything else I touch) and Greek roasted vegies.

The Evil Google Ad on my blog is trying to sell me vintage fountain pens. The Fountain Pen Hospital. They have some very beautiful ink bottles; the Campo Marzio Roma and Visconti ink bottles in particular are fabulous. I have my Dad's 14k gold nibbed Shaeffer that he received on his 21st birthday, almost 60 years ago.