The future...is Irish Rail.

Hey pop-pickers, it's the Craigster here. Stop wishing you were due south with snorkel gear and listen up.
During a recent dinner party in the London pied à terre of an eminent and illustrious thespian, I deigned to engage in monosyllabic conversation with a certain premiership footballer (and played under-the-table footsie with his young fiancee, natch) when my cell rang.



