Apart from alcohol-induced, I haven't felt at all ill since a Fresher's 'flu when I started uni in 1994. So indigestion/stomach-ache/food poisoning came as a bit of a surprise, and I immediately assumed it was something more serious. After discounting cancer, my favoured diagnosis was that a colleague had laced my tea with arsenic. I wouldn't put it past him...

Aside from the curious defects of my physical manifestation, my average evening holds about as much interest as, well, my average day. Television is exceptionally dull, bar a couple of amusing Channel 4 comedies just before bed. So it is that I return to my books - biographies of Paul Erdos and Richard Branson. Hey ho.

A splattering of links, to fill the void until I think of something worthwhile to say:

A thought - have you noticed how many online journals (including many exceptionally good ones) tend to use verdana as their de facto typeface? I could be cruel and suggest that this is because nobody can spell 'helvetica' any more, but I won't. Perhaps I should change FALIME's font to something different next month...