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# Barry...
...was a born again Christian. Not that this was good reason to resent him. Its nice having people who are organised enough to draw up a cleaning rota, and because of their religion can't cheat on it like the rest of us. And having other born-again Christians round the house from time to time was just one of those things. Better than junkies or crack heads. But then Barry went off the rails. Admittedly for one night only. But he went off the rails badly. The night after his exams finished he went out on the beers. Probably drank at least three or four pints . And came home rather fuller of the joy of Stella than of God. He must have come in around 3am, by which time, like all good agnostics, I was trying to get some kip. So imagine my surprise when the shadowy figure of Barry loomed into my bedroom doorway, walked calmly into the room, lurched over to the stereo, which was sitting innocently against a wall halfway over towards my bed, lifted the lid on the record player sitting on top of said stereo, unzipped, pissed a full bladder of holy water onto the turntable, closed the lid and walked out of the room. The stereo was ruined (and not a little ammoniacal in odour). Barry remembered only going to the toilet on coming in from the pub. The following morning it wasn't the Lord's forgiveness he was praying for...
(, Wed 19 Nov 2003, 8:34, archived)