‘Is this true?’ asks Little Dick. He retrieves a soggy roll-up from between his tonsils, regains his composure, and gazes levelly at Namibian. ‘Do you really sit down to piss?’ Namibian rears up, an indignant human beach ball. Yet his tone is more astonishment than defensiveness at this imprecation. ‘What if I do?’ he retorts, … Read moreNamibian’s Little Secret..
This was written last year. I’m in the process of transferring old blogs over to this site…so do scroll back through the archives occasionally: I don’t know what happens in the other trucks – well, Namibian, of course, will be uttering banalities nineteen to the dozen to his double-driver – but, on our drive up … Read moreA duvet day on the U2 tour..
Spielberg is playing Dad today. He’s trotted round to the local Europcar to hire a Lancia something or other, returning to take three of us on a little jaunt to the Alps. Little Dick eagerly hops in the back seat, and sits down next to a girl. A girl? Ah, I never got round to … Read moreA quick one up the Alps..