Reality Bites

There are several ways to deal with a hangover. The first, historically for me at least, is to return to the scene of the crime. This I did repetitively in my youth, for it effectively rejoins you with the fun you might have had, but can't remember, so you can sit in some kind of warm glow with 'snow falling in your head' wondering about nothing. At least you are in the same place on the planet while it spins around doing whatever it does.

This was not necessarily a good idea today, for it transpired that for some reason Bethnal Green was some kind of loonies day out. Sensitive souls like myself with hangovers do not respond well to crazies in sports wear who won't go away talking about being mates with 'Mad Frankie Frazer' (who I believe was actually an Elephant and Castle crook) and being mates with the Krays (not the same mathematical set). They do not respond even to conspicuous tall pimp like fellas shouting in to mobile phones like they are going to kill someone, nor is it particularly sustaining to listen to the pure gibberish uttered by one's care in the community fellow drinkers, who insist Gordon Banks is still a goalkeeper in the lower leagues. It is actually enough to send you running home for some cottage pie and an afternoon nap. The answer to this inordinate wandering about of the lost is simply to INSTALL SLOT MACHINES. They will keep everybody happy for years whether you are bonkers or not.

P.S. Am trying to download Las Vegas Art Friday Grateful Deadish video for the next post, but even Julie is too hungover to function.