And we turned the corner into the Market Square and there was this great big drunken coloured gentleman dancing on the roof of a car outside the pub. Making a right mess he was. Suddenly this young copper appears and hisses into his walkie talkie "there's a great big pissed-up darkie dancing on the roof of a car in the Market Square here Sarge." The sergeant chastises: "You can't say that officer, please use proper police terminology." So the copper says "OK, Whisky, Zulu, Tango, Sierra." Honest, I saw it with me own eyes and heard it with my fluffy little ears.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.