On your knees

After some online WBRA AGM shenanigans, I managed a trip over to the harbour. Once again my activities were curtailed by being marched down to the pontoon and made to hold things in the water.
So, washed, I headed up to the Cameo to meet Senõr Nesbeet, and view Last Black Man in San Francisco. I’ve got to say that it started so well I thought I was watching an absolute masterpiece... but then the storyline intervened and it dragged a bit, and meandered everywhere. Still, some cracking little vignettes in there.
And then said Long Juan took me for a pint in Monty’s, despite his teatotallerdom. What a lovely man he is, and after all these years he’s found love; I’m really delighted for him.
So, the old crew, football aplenty - I follow the JTs on Twitter as they once again reveal their class, losing to the bottom club.
Oh yes, and everyone agrees there’s to be a election now that Brexit has been resolved. I may have to leave Twitter for good.