I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Hey Phil, shouldn't you be putting on your stab-proof vest and heading off to Mouslecoomb right about now?". If you're not thinking that, then you probably don't remember this post from February.

Anyhoo, the good news is that we don't have to spend the evening in a rough neighbourhood, watching drunken punch-ups in a run-down leisure centre, because the wedding's off. Apparently the happy couple have "a lot of things to discuss". As Lisa's aunt said to us last night from her hospital bed, "thank God I hadn't bought them a present".

Our sick-visiting yesterday evening went ok. If you like that sort of thing. I think Lisa's exact description was "soul-destroying". Her aunt seems to be on the mend, but spending half an hour in a geriatric ward isn't the most life-affirming experience you can have on a Friday night. Even Lisa's aunt, who's in her late seventies, complained about being stuck with all the old people. As for Lisa, one brief experience of a hospital ward was quite enough - she's now insisting we pay £100 a night for a private birthing room in October.

In other news, Big Sis has just sent me a link to the European Space Agency's Psychological Tests. Well, a sample of them anyway. I think they're one of the main tasks that should be performed by an astronaut. But that's just my opinion. Anyway, I've just had a go at the memory one, so I thought I'd post my results here before I forget them...


... which I think is good enough for an A-Star at GCSE. I missed two, but that'll teach me not to carry out advanced psychological tests while I'm watching the repeat of Big Brother.