16
I went to a local folk club with my Dad and drank some godawful McEwans Best Scotch. We sat in a corner out of the way alongside some scruffy hippy folky types. I had 3 halves and was entirely off my head giggling and generally being a drunken teen twat. Next morning I asked my dad why those poor folky types couldn't afford their own cigarettes and kept on sharing them with each other. Ah to be young.
(porkylips looks better as the sun goes down., Mon 13 Jul 2009, 13:47, Reply)