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The words are all mine, most of the pictures are not. Some of the words are not mine either.

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

rubbish mates and the £30 revolution

I come to you all today with a little tip.
If you ever find yourself hosting surprise birthday and you have booked the venue and arranged for the guitar player to sing some songs, even put out some nibbles for the guests to go along with the decorations you have put up, for God’s sake don’t forget to pay the bloody DJ.
A “friend” of mine did this and upon my arrival had the brass neck and raw nerve on his bloody cheek to ask me, ME! to cough up £30 to pay the DJ because my so-called friend hadn’t brought enough money with him.
As it so happens, on my way to the gig that evening I stumbled upon £30 that was just lying inside a purse that I found on the floor nowhere near that old woman’s outstretched hand as she lay across the pavement gasping for help.
So all’s well that ends well.
But it might not have been.
And that folks is what is important.
After the banking crisis and global warming and acid rain we all have to be prepared.
For anything.
War, famine, economic meltdown, mutant uprisings, BBC3 sitcoms. They can all hit you at any time without warning.
And so. Over the rest of February I BUMFERRY HOGART will share with you my manifesto for victory.

Sit up straight and be vigilant.

Maybe I should call an ambulance for that old woman..... nah.

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