Gone fishing

I expect you're wondering why I haven't published anything for a week, and the truth is that I'm on holiday and can't be arsed. 

Not strictly true: I'm in an area of the Lake District where the mobile signal is so poor, villages advertise themselves with 'YES! We have a public phone box!' and I don't even know how they can live without full Dominos pizza coverage. 

I said: HOW DO THEY LIVE WITH ONLY GPRS COVERAGE?'

I don't even know why I called this post 'Gone Fishing', because I hate fishing and everything it stands for (except for the part about the tasty, tasty fish, which I shall leave to the professionals). 

Still, it's a place I've never been before, and we got to witness some superb campsite shenanigans involving a drunken argument and an attempt to drive a Griswalds-sized camper van off site at 10pm in the loudest flounce off home you ever saw. 

Top flouncing indeed. 

Attempting a return to the Pencil Museum in an unconvincing Jeremy Beadle disguise tomorrow. Wish me well.