Stupid thoughts that cross my mind, number #134 in a series of ∞: isn't it strange that the Patron Saint of England is famed, for, well, killing things? Not exactly saintly, is it?

I had a whole theme ready for today's entry, but I'm feeling a bit unwell, so you'll just have to go without. Sorry about that.

Against all expectations, I did have a good time last night, so things aren't all bad.

Okay, according to the BBC, he didn't actually kill a dragon. Somebody lied to us when we were growing up, you know...