Note To Self

You started out as a decidedly underground DJ and. therefore, probably don’t need to elaborate upon precisely how you came to acquire a thirty-year … international, no less … reputation (that actually precedes you) for being up there with Keith Richards and Mark ‘Bez’ Berry in the How Is This Man Even Still Alive, Never Mind Not A Drooling Vegetable!?’ stakes.

So, the fact that, in the last five years, you’ve drunk alcohol on no more than ten-to-twenty occasions at the absolute outside and that, in the last eighteen months, you’ve only drunk on three occasions (including this evening) … and that this evening was, therefore, only your ninth beer in approaching two years … will be as much of a surprise to quite literally the rest of the World as it is to you yourself.

Nevertheless …

CHECK GLASS FOR SPIDERS BEFORE POURING BEER is still an incontrovertible law of the Multiverse, you numpty … … … Jesus!

Moreover, having given up smoking three years ago, the decision that an expensive cigar would make the perfect accompaniment was, in retrospect, a trifle fanciful, don’t you think? ¹

And pizza!?

Really?

*sigh*

Futurama has much to answer for! ²


¹ Who do you think you are, exactly … Stephen M. Tomic!?

² Who sponsored it anyway?

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There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.

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Where Angels Fear

There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.