What an absolute write-off of a day this promises to be. As if the late night party madness of Brighton on Tuesday and London Wednesday weren't enough, Oxford lived up to its promise of being absolutely ridiculous. I arrived at the venue late, some 20 minutes after the doors were due to open (you've probably gathered by now that this is how I role - unintentionally, may I add, but roll nonetheless), only to find that the bar staff hadn't arrived. Neither had the door staff. And sound checks were still going on. And Ross from Secondsmile was curled up in a sickly ball on one of the sofa's, wearing two coats, shivering and communicating only in spluttery coughs. A difficult hour of standing around waiting, wondering and turning people away left me craving the comfort of my bed and re-considering my country-fleeing ideas. Thankfully things got better from there as the venue filled out with friends, smiling strangers and the standard Oxford dirty drunks. This Town Needs Guns, Secondsmile, Cat Matador and House of Brothers all impressed and then it was off to the Jamaican bar where we drank Conquering Lion (64%) rum and Ting (Lilt but at three times the price) until nearly 4am. In hindsight, possibly not the smartest way to end an evening as my head now pounds like a million drums and my bleary eyes struggle to focus on the keys with my fingers shuddering above them. If I manage to achieve just one thing of note today I'll deserve a medal, a day of eating jam doughnuts and watching Cool Runnings seems a much more viable option.