Move your big truck

Hey Jerome! Move your big truck and tell us what's happening in your crazy life. Otherwise I'll make up my version. It goes something like this:

Friday night. I met my esteemed friends Marv, Clare, and Lucy for dinner in the Eystons. "How lucky I am to have friends like these," I thought to myself as I tucked into my halibut and listened to their fascinating and witty conversation. Marv is looking particularly beautiful tonight, despite the large spot adorning her chin. Then who should appear but Daniel Bashford. What good luck to meet him! What a splendid fellow he is! The noble art of archaeology advances with every scrape of his trowel. And I love to hear him talk about ridge and furrow.

Saturday: we spent a delightful afternoon playing pool before adjourning to that pleasant hostelry, the Oak, where the real ale flows like nectar. I enjoyed my friends' witty conversation and stimulating company and admired their excellent taste in music. We repaired to the Hare where a party was in full swing and I showed off my bartending skills. I was sad when my friends left for a sophisticated evening of music and wine in the delightful surroundings of their ancestral home.