And another one bites the dust

You can always tell the ladies and gentlemen of my profession at a large social gathering. We're the slightly uncomfortable looking ones, hanging around the bar, only talking to each other and talking shop. It's always hilarious. Had the opportunity to watch it again this weekend; off to a wedding of a guy who used to work in my place, before he saw the light and got a proper job. The bride was beautiful, the groom was pissed as a fart and sweating profusely while dancing like a loon to every piece of seventies party shite they could play. And why not. Reminds me of the best wedding reception I ever went to, with the disco appropriately named KAK-FM providing the very dodgy sounds. Most entertaining. Prided themselves on their selection of crap seventies and eighties pap (only place I ever heard "Big Balls" by AC/DC played), and all the fine ale in the world at the bar, courtesy of Irish Paul. No formality, plus I snogged the bridesmaid. Marvellous. Ah, those were the days.

Didn't get to kill a cyclist that night though, which was a shame. A far closer run thing this time. The shit just pedalled across a red light, with no lights at midnight, in dark clothes. Did I do the decent thing, put my foot down and aim for his head? Darwin in action? No, I hit the brakes. Must be getting soft in my old age.



Oh, and it's August the 30th and nothing terminal has happened to my relationship yet. How did that happen? I thought it had become a national tradition?