Been a busy few weeks. Christmas parties. It runs a little like this. A bunch of paper clip executives head up from Blackpool. Get honking pissed. Turn up at the club near the pier. Drag act. Magician (in this day and age!), meat raffle, karaoke, blue comedian, slap up meal, more booze, the fucking dance where they all sit on the ground rowing, more booze...and me and Martin. Graveyard shift. We've had more scampi thrown at us in the last week than Jayne Macdonald's comeback tour.
Anyway. Money's money. And Christmas is coming. Martin loves Christmas.
Got an Xmas do at a Medieval Banquet in Garstang in a tomorrow. How they'd know is beyond me.
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