Nottingham

My goodness, you do live an interesting life, but be careful, I get the feeling that if you screw around too much with this one, your life may become embarrassingly short, as may a portion of your anatomy.

A certain part of my anatomy is already embarrasingly short, but women are tolerant creatures. And if I died tomorrow, I’d have had a happy life.

blimey, it all sounds a bit cloak and dagger and thrillingly dodgy.

The frisson of sexual attraction and the certainty of ending up with some slightly damaged limbs if we ever act on it makes it even better.

most men lead lives of quiet desperation.

or not…

Somehow I can’t help reading all this with a tone of a court room drama with phrases like “The accused claims…” and “M’Lud I must protest” popping in here and there ;-)

I’ve met a murderer. Two actually. One was a patient and a very nice man.

That comment above was from nursemyra. don’t know why I keep coming up as “readers”

Nursey, check your email. Sorry about this.

I’ve met a couple of murderers in the course of my work. I wasn’t scared of either, but they were profoundly unhappy in entirely different ways.

Oh, I forgot to mention that the nicest bloke I knew when I was a mature student in Dundee was a convicted bank robber, who did the Royal Bank in Edinburgh with 5 mates with sawn-offs. He was a semi-reformed character who could tell the most amazing jokes, and he had two very large knife scars across and down his face, looked VERY menacing, but he was great to have in a pub, because as we walked towards the bar, everyone elso took one look at him and rapidly got out of the way, so we always got served very quickly. Lovely bloke.

So basically, I’m just catching up with my readers. You dodgy bastards.

I’m a terrible drunk as well. Never built up any resistance for the drink. Many a date has drunk me under a table. Quite embarrassing.

Not many men know who Wilton Felder is, either. Just saying.

A murderer of what variety, pray tell? Like, he’s really boring and will kill your time?

Yes, I was thinking whether I ought to have made that non-gender-specific, but then I’m not really interested in men who like Wilton Felder, whereas a woman who does will arouse my interest.

In a way, I hope Friday is quite boring. I’m not looking forward to the journey either. Being in cars makes me tense.

Looby, I can’t help thinking TSB up there has a point in his usual forthright manner. This sounds seriously fucking dodgy. Which I realise you know already. But I feel bound to ask you, is it not too late to reconsider the stress-inducing car-ride and err instead on the side of that life of quiet desperation? This all might be edge-of-the-seat stuff for us all to read but if it ends up with you being fitted out with a pair of concrete boots and dumped unceremoniously into the Lune (and it could be just for being too friendly with his girlfriend from the sound of things, never mind the, er business) then… well, you know what I’m saying, right?

(Sorry if it sounds like I’m being a bit prim and proper about this, God knows I don’t want to tell anyone how to live their life, but you’ve got me a bit worried here…)

It’ll be alright. I’ll keep my hands to myself, and I’ve arranged to text someone with the address I’ll be at on Friday, and to expect a text on Friday night and to ring me if I don’t send it.