Artandtarts@vomit.com

On the Sunday, we went to look at some art in the Arnolfini. Most of it didn't light my fire much, but we liked the bit where you choose a pair of shoes to walk round the rest of the show with. Lu picked out some red patent heels.

I reckon I could earn cash with these, though I'd probably break my back before much more than £50 had cleared.


This sign made me smile. Mind you, I mispronounced "detritus" for years, so who am I to pretend I'm an urban sophisticate?

The venue is in the new part of town dedicated to hangar-sized bars and plenty of early morning cleaners on hand to hose away the vomit. It's what local government types call "the night-time economy", stupid.