I used to look at the stars and dream of what might be. But then I grew up and became a fat pisshead. Such is life.

This is a picture of the last Christmas party at where I used to work. The fellow in the middle (mug) used to be my boss.

These crew members have all become somewhat blurred due to the amount of booze they've been throwing down their necks.

The one known as the PFT, or "Pieface" sits at the bar in the Argyll. We see he has a pint infront of him. But how's he going to drink it? He has no mouth!

This fish is a crisp. I can hardly believe it. It even swims in a sea of knobs on a tool box. How strange.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

The splendid Agnieszka toys with a calculator. She is currently in the oil industry but she will move on to better things. She is Polish, not polish. She is a 5ive pointed thing with ten straight sides. Work it out.

A NorthEnder stares at the Bloodtubs over the wasteland waiting for opening time.

The carbon based lifeform known as Josh stands in a room entrance, paint roller in hand. He's been apainting. He does not like chips, roasties, mash, baked beans or corned beef pap. He he.

Commander Nogs from the planet Everton sucks away at his rations. He has to keep up his energy levels, y'know.

Hiding under the lovely hat and behind the spectacles is a splendid lady from the Federation Pubship Argyll.

She is not an officer but a very valued member of the crew.

A ghostly piece of chess de-cloaks in the conservetory in a house several years ago. Due to a temporal rift it was not noticed until some time in the future. Note the Mostonian shuttle through the window.

A couple of stout yeomen stand at the bar in the Argyll. Their horses were tired and they'd been riding all night.

A bulbous glass of rose wine stands on a table at the Edge of Tomorrow.