Once again the festive season is nearly upon us one and all. Hurrah!
I will have my bottle of sherry, Audrey her special chews made from cows’ eyes and Nelson will be here, ostensibly to do some recording in the studio, but mostly for his annual yuletide drunkening with his big brother.
I have threatened to try to curb his fervent alcoholic antics this year.
I remember last Christmas when, searching for a rough little provincial lassie to seduce, he dragged me to the Schoolhouse Restaurant-and-Wine-Bar in the village. We got so drunk that at one stage Nelson actually disappeared into another dimension.
I enlisted the help of one of the attractive barmaids and after an extensive search which lasted about twenty minutes – it would have been quicker had I not insisted on making an initial sweep of the unoccupied guest bedrooms – found him in the kitchen where he was trying to de-gay himself with a microwave oven and a roll of greaseproof paper.