Well, that’s it, another funky birthday over with! Thanks to everyone who sent a card/bought a round/bought a present, and special thank to Paul D for remembering my birthday while enjoying himself in the depths of America. A faint and crackly phone call from him (on the right day and everything) was frighteningly clever of him. Firm friend, that one.
So, what did I do? Well, Friday night was terribly messy, with work mates plying me with Black Russians and beer and allsorts. Needless to say, Saturday morning was a no-show – I even had to delay my present-opening ceremony at Michelle’s to compose myself. Still, several presents and copious cards later, I was raring to go to Thorpe Park for a day of stomach-churning rides. There was just the one ride that made be think that the previous night had been a bad idea. Was it the death-defying 10-loop rollercoaster? The Water Rapids, gently swaying to and fro in the worsening weather?
No. It was the Teacup Ride.
Still, Saturday night’s “Wibbler’s Birthday/Shunta’s Engagement Party” came and went without a hitch, with Open Mike night working it’s magic. And from the sounds of things, Shunta’s fiance had a lovely time in the four-poster…
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