Ow! Then Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Get out your violins and pack the submachine gun in its case - thanks to the equation of metal bar + kneecap = swollen knee I am, instead of making my way merrily to St Davids Hall to see Bryn Terfel in concert, sitting at home holding a sandwich bag full of frozen peas on my knee. I've used up every known swear word in the English language, invented a couple more and regressed to around about eight years of age in the space of a few hours and am only now (vaguely) acting my real age - which is far bigger than anyone's shoe size.

The cause of the indisposition? No - I don't owe loan shark Mad Lou any money - instead it's the idiotic design of train tables. Do the people who invent these things ever consider the fact that people have to propel themselves out from a seat using at least some forward motion? How about using a table that doesn't require a forest of hidden metal bars? How about padding them in some way? How about I be more careful in future? Ummmm, no - it's far easier to blame someone else for my knee.

Thankfully the concert is being recorded for TV - which is a tiny crumb of comfort at the moment.

I'd better be off as the peas are defrosting, but before I do I hope that everyone who's off to the concert tonight has a great time.

Okay, I'm lying.

I hope there's an electrical failure causing the performance to be rescheduled for a later date. Isn't that what one of Bryn's Bad Boys would say?