'Kin ell. I have a sore head this morning. Well, best laid plans all went piss-shaped, as usual.
The plan was that Greg would scoop JPC up from the scareport around 6.00pm breeze over to FoF for a little light refreshment and a bite to eat, before picking up Julian from MCO and driving off into the boonies. That was the plan.
So there I was, sipping my lemonade when Every showed-up in a cab. Apparently Greg's truck had thrown a wobbly and Greg was going to be a 'bit late'. The recipe for disaster was just starting to simmer.....
During the waiting period, there was nothing to do, so we resigned ourselves to drinking like utter bastards. The waiting period went on and on.....
Greg, who was due in at 5.30, showed-up around 9.00. Greg seemed pretty determined to catch-up with us in the inebriation dept. and quickly switched from beer to strange looking green shots. It had the desired effect.
Every's eyes started pointing in different directions......
Julian, who was due in at around 8.30 was still in Philadelphia at 9.00pm. Greg and Mark (who was now telling anyone who'd listen "I love you - you and me, against the world, eh?") toughed-it-out and said they'd wait for the arrival of Mr Woodenshoes.
And so it went on........and on.
Julian's flight got in around midnight (I think). I sent my manservant (son-in-law) to collect him. We killed the time by having a couple of 'slotters'. At this point, the ballcock in Every's stomach switched his brain off.
They finally dragged their asses out of there at around 1.30am - destination? I don't think anyone knew.
No food was consumed. The tab was impressive.
This morning, the tapping of the keys on my laptop is deafening me.
Rick Cutler arrives in less than 6 hours - for fucks sake.