While Halloween might have been fun I’m most looking forward to leaving a small glass of sherry and a mince pie out for Father Brexit, only to discover he hasn’t come tonight. (Sadly it might be the last time I can do this.)

Finally having to install Word on a new laptop after resisting for a long time. It feels a bit, um, dirty.

There really was only one way I could mark Apollo 50.

Flexing limited creative muscle at the Exhibition Road Festival. Not quite sure I followed the brief.

I tried the neural net at Talk To Transformer to see if it could offer some insight on what happens next. Doomed.

Ear-wigging on people talking about politics on the train while they cite Tweets as an authoritative source to justify their stances. Thank god we don’t have any hostile actors on that platform, eh?