I first stumbled into Biblos one night when I was hopped up on mothballs and looking for a well thumbed copy of Cervantes' Don Quixote. I squirmed in, reeling at the sight of all the librarians before realising my mistake. While Spanish literature was off the menu, I thought I'd try my suerte with a "jerk chicken wrap". After the ladywoman felt my hand and placed some returncoins in it, it took me 37 minutes to say thank you, as I was having another regression. The chilled out folk of Stokes Croft didn't seem to mind though, probably due to the valium epidemic that is currently consuming young twenty-somethings at a ferocious rate. The bell was rung, the serviette affixed, the wrap served hot. I fell back in ecstacy, pouring into infinite works of art that adorned the galley's gallery as the oil ran down my chin like the Yangtze river. After I awoke, I licked my hands, picking myself up in a haste and whispering goodbye. Done and dusted.. time for a Rita's. read more