Alan ‘sickboy’ Black came round last night full of apologise and gifts. As far as I could see as a non medical, practising Doctor he also seemed virtually normal to the naked eye. He brought me a humorous birthday card, the sort you would buy for a young child with sparkly aliens on (consider amending sentence) To go with the young person’s theme there was also a bottle of 10 year old port which was late bottled (possibly after about ten past eleven, he mused) After about an hour he made the excuse that he needed to lay down some traps and snare a muntjac for his pot and slipped off into the night. At that point I retired to my computer to practice some words, only to be told by Kirsty that we should play some games. I finally got to my bed at about three this morning after losing numerous games of trivial pursuit and Uno and quaffing far too many nuts and beers.
Luckily I am still riding high on this extended birthday celebrations ticket which has excused me from all DIY jobs today and tomorrow (I think)
An idiots guide to the wise words and mad ramblings of Jon Cheshire's world from the new city of milton keynes, UK. Totally biased opinions on music, film and the media. Politics, sex, bingo wings, food, comedy, writing and extreme ironing. The thinking mans keepnet.
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