Received a slurred phone call from the MAM this afternoon: 'My carsh broken down. C'n you givrmresshhift'morrowmurg?'. From which I gather he would like a lift to the TV shoot we are on tomorrow morning.
I was going to have to get up quite early to make the call time. Now it's an even earlier start, factoring in a detour to collect this unwanted hitcher.
It's like game viewing. You need to be up early to really get the full benefit. By benefit I mean the freshest fumes emanating from his pores as opposed to the half hearted efforts oozing out over lunch time.
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