I wish people would stop dying all over the place. Yet another Cuckoolander ('Cuckooland' is what Mosh, another dead friend of mine, used to call the area I live in) died on Wednesday night. He was only 51 or 52. Don't know exactly how he died but I won't be surpised if it turns out to be the years of abusing his body that did it. And what did loads of us do last night? Yup that's right - from round about 5pm we started trickling into the pub and all got completely plastered in a sort of impromptu wake thingy.
Nick had been such a miserable bugger for as long as I've known him up until a few years ago when he met the woman he married. He'd really cleaned his act up and was noticably a much happier person. They had only just celebrated their 2nd anniversary on Tuesday.
Well if that's where getting all happy and optimistic gets you maybe I'll try to stay miserable - joking!
Here ye go Nicky boy this one's for you (and me -d'oh!)...
