“Story, Twenty?”

“Not much, Jimmy. Sinking a few given the day that’s in it. You know yourself.”

“And the laptop?”

“I’m live blogging Paddy’s day from Ron’s.”

Imagine the face someone might make if you gave them a poo sandwich.

“Live blogging? So not only do we have to read your shite now we have to watch you write the shite before we read it. Deadly. Ron – two pints, please.”

“You’re a gent, Jimmy.”

“Fuck off nerd, they’re both for me.”

Here is a story about a sinner,
He used to be a winner who enjoyed a life of prominence and position,
But the pressures at the office and his socialite engagements,
And his selfish wife’s fanatical ambition,
It turned him to the booze,
And he got mixed up with a floosie
And she led him to a life of indecision.
The floosie made him spend his dole
She left him lying on skid row
A drunken lag in some salvation army mission.
It’s such a shame.

Oh demon alcohol,
Sad memories I cannot recall,
Who thought I would say,
Damn it all and blow it all,
Oh demon alcohol,
Memories I cannot recall,
Who thought I would fall a slave to demon alcohol.

Barley wine pink gin,
He’ll drink anything,
Port, pernod or tequila,
Rum, scotch, vodka on the rocks,
As long as all his troubles disappeared.
But he messed up his life and he beat up his wife,
And the floosie’s gone and found another sucker
She’s gonna turn him on to drink
She’s gonna lead him to the brink
And when his money’s gone,
She’ll leave him in the gutter,
It’s such a shame.

Oh demon alcohol,
Sad memories I cannot recall,
Who thought I would fall,
A slave to demon alcohol.

Thanks, that’s where I about lost my lunch.

And I was right with you up till that line, too…