The sound of crashing into middle age with a wimper
I was in a rock band for a while, and got about with similar and like-minded folks. During this time, Mrs Vagabond and I decided to buy a flat.

One band we used to regularly play with suggested that this Christmas we do the Circle Line Drinking Game. Since it's 44 stations, a half at each station still involves drinking 22 pints.

We started at 1100hrs, as someone had actually done some maths, and worked out we had something like 20 minutes per stop.

Whatever.

My tale is this: at about 1430, resplendent in my knackered leather jacket and general rock paraphernalia, while drinking with these equally cool types in some crappy bar, my mobile 'phone rang and I had to say to them "Sorry lads, I've just got to step outside, my mortgage adviser is on the 'phone."
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 18 Feb 2013, 9:55, Reply)