The years have not been good to me. My hair is thinning, my eyesight failing. I find it harder to get up in the mornings and my fragile frame is wracked with painful spasms. My friends have left me and my family have disowned me. Even my dog growls when I try to get up from the sofa.
I helped a friend to move house last Sunday. He now lives directly above one night club and shares an apartment with the manager of another. Things are looking good.
On the down side, though, he asked me if I was up for a few pints afterwards and I heard myself reply: