The tough get going moany

Fuck, but that was a LONG day.

And look - it's still not over...

Methought I heard a voice cry "Sleep no more!
Sizemore does murder sleep," the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.

Bollocks.

And more of the same tomorrow.

But I'll be King of Scotland yet. Or something...

Mike is writing to The Breeders