This weekend say Aunty Stella and I take our annual pilgrimage to Arnhem, to tip our hats and pay respects to family members who fought there on Market Garden. Clearly amongst the usual Hartenstein museum visit, tour of the cemetery and Bridge many beverages were quaffed. Apart from waking up chewing one of Aunties socks, and a phone full of text messages sent to family and friends titled âSpent all my money on whores please replenâ I thought the weekend passed without incident. This afternoon I was flicking through the various radio channels on my motorcars wireless when Spandau Ballet was played by Centuryâ¦.. when I heard âGoldâ I immediately felt embarrassed, sick and a huge sense of being watched over came me. A flash back from Friday night flew through my mindâ¦. Auntie and I were suitably mullered, talking bollocks and putting the world to rights, when the Juke box kicked inâ¦ Not a clue what came over me but the demons within deemed that I should leap to my feet, and treat the bar to a floor show. Unbeknown to me I knew all the lyrics, and Auntie, not famed for his Travolta-like skill leapt to my side ensuring I didnât look a cnut on my own. Sadly I lack RTFQs ability to tell a story, but the one image I wish I could portray would the picture of Aunty, face and heart full of emotion, shuffling backwards pointing lovingly at me singing âHeâs indestructibleâ after I belted out the chorus. The bar was at a dazed standstill and over 200 cheered at the end as I lustfully French kissed aunty and squeezed his pods My only other hazy memory from the weekend was removing an American soldiers baseball cap and licking every inch of his head......... youv'e never seen a more horrified look on a mans face...... Aunty saw this on returning from the bar, broke into a trot and ran at teh septic calling him 'lolly head' and giving his bonce a second coat of slavver. He paid us the biggest compliment, he said 'Thank fcuk you guys are alllies..... The British are fcuked up'