Not The Best Of Starts

Don’t know about you, but I’m stumbling through life like Oliver Reed on his way home from a dinner party at Keith Floyd’s house. It’s a grotesque spectacle, this wayward perambulation, marked by pratfall after idiotic pratfall.

But do I ever learn from my mistakes?

Only when it’s too late.

So, what have I learned today?

When you get so drunk you can’t remember that somebody threw a pint of lager over your jacket the previous night, it’s best not to wear the same jacket to work without first paying a visit to a Chinese laundry.

One Response to “Not The Best Of Starts”

  1. rivergirlie Says:

    eeww – i can smell you from here! (despite the fact that it’s all open to the elements)

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