Further ramblings of a self-made pauper

I have received at this late hour, a phone call from a person who shall remain nameless (!) who has been out on the bottle with her friends. Since far too early o'clock.

I have moved all breakables to a safe location and battened down the hatches; sometime in the next hour or so, a very out of focus hurricane will be arriving in a cloud of wine-derived alcohol vapour.

I have the fear.

In one of those moments of cinematic timing, Office Services have just announced over the tannoy, that due to a security alert, the Metropolitan Police have closed Victoria Street from Westminster to the Albert pub. That's a half mile section of the street from Parliament Square down toward the station.

Just as that announcement had been made, the sirens went off as a fair number of police cars high-tailed it down towards Westminster.

I wonder what's going on. An over reaction to something, no doubt. I'll deny typing that if it all goes tits up, mind.

Later

As suspected, all an over reaction. Move along. Nothing to see. >Yawn< Can I go home, yet?