Stuffed Tigers...

Just so you know: this page was imported from my old blog. Some pages were rather mangled in the process; my apologies if things don't quite look right.

So tonight's little excursion to Tiger Tiger didn't go as planned. Running a little late (hey, it takes time to look this good... Stop laughing at the back of the class), I got stuck in the queue to end all queues. Us Brits have a unique ability to stand about in order, maintaining a careful degree of personal space whilst mentally determing who might need a good elbowing to stop them jumping the queue.

In another land - let's say France as an example (not that I'm bitter at being nearly run over by a school-load of French children armed only with skis and poles while on a skiing trip at the tender age of 11) - there would be a mel

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