Litter Bin

There's been a fair few nights putting the world to rights in this place I can tell you. Birthdays to funerals, organised to disorganised, it's seen us all enter upstanding and coherent citizens only to spit us out (sometimes many) hours later staggering, incomprehensible giggling loons.

Our auld man even managed to get himself barred from the place, something none of his offspring have (yet) achieved. Some of his family put in many hours in gainful employment to try and balance the number of times the rest of us had to be virtually manhandled from the place at well-past last orders. We've had one playing in the darts team and a couple of us tagged along with the golf section (trading standards should've been called on that one for all the golf that was ever played). When another family member returned from the first Gulf war we had a night of such epic celebratory proportions that none of the hedges and plants on the road back from here have ever grown back properly.

Aye, it's amazing what you can squeeze into a litter bin.

Oh, and the pub behind - in case you didn't see - is called 'The Inn'.

Happy weekend all.