Unplanned weekends

Truly decadent. There's no other way to describe the shennanigans which took place on Sunday with two friends.

After finally getting up and leaving the flat in Borough at 1 in the afternoon (following much late-night abandon in the Shoreditch area), a cabbie was duly summoned to take us to a Smithfields greasy spoon for breakfast at 4pm. Subsequent carousing then involved Carluccio's on the corner of said square with seven bottles of wine downed between the three of us.

Non of us remember how we got home or what time we got home. For my part toast was vaguely involved, along with a smashed plate and a serious hangover this morning.

Oh, and to top it all off, I then find my bike which I'd locked on Brick Lane on Saturday evening (I know, I know) had it's saddle nicked this morning.