Oh my Hashem.
I spent most of yesterday with a tramp- who maybe was called Irvine, or I might have named him that- drinking £5.99 bottles of wine and not one of you, NOT ONE OF YOU did anything about that. No one called when I didn’t come back to the office, no one went looking, NOTHING.
Well, I know who my mates are. That’s right, Irvine, and our harem of pigeons.
Ned;
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Runcible_spoon
Danke for the boat and the owl.
Nenaaaaa… sorrrrrrry. Chatting to drunk me can be tiresome. You did well, I owe you drinks. Or dinner; I can’t remember which you take a lady for to say thank you AND sorry at the same time.
I miss Irvine.
I do, admittedly, miss Tim more, and feel quite bad for sending him away to halls. For the best right? Exams an’ that.
Cocaine is good company, as is gin and Dylan and my office pen. Mr Ashcroft is NOT.
In related news Daniel Ashcroft has crashed out. I’ll be taking his calls then. Ho hum.
Wednesdays are quite good too.