|“You know you’re in a bad state when Take That songs start to mean something”
The Where Are They Now Files
John, who said he was off to Dublin to work and then disappeared for three weeks, phoned me on Friday to say that his brother was due to give birth and he would e-mail me with all the gory details. I can’t wait.
Mike, meanwhile, has returned from Africa “reasonably unscathed (apart from a from a couple of small head wounds and a scar on my shin)” and is studying in Bristol. Given that his e-mail address prominently included the word pimp, I would have deleted it immediately if not for the subject line- At Least There’s No Dooley.
Dooley, for the record, is the person who inspired this and this.
And the person I shouldn’t have found, or even gone looking for. After she figured, tangentially, in my Beerfest memories and was brought up conversation last Saturday, and I downloaded a pop song that means far more than it should, and because Daz suggested the power of the internet, I went searching for a particular ex-girlfriend. I eventually found her on FriendsReunited, happily married to the guy she dumped me for. Which is exactly what I expected to find, and the reason I knew I shouldn’t be looking. It’s pathetic that, eight years after the fact, reading about her can still get the self pity going.
God I’m an idiot. Must get therapy………