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That week in full

My liver cries for vengeance for my errant behaviour this past week. Monday myself and some compadres visited the catering trade show in Manchester's G-Mex. This consists largely of suppliers trying to get me to stock their wares by giving me free alcohol. Needless to say hopeless ruin ensued, within three hours we were all irredeemably trolleyed. And then we decided to go out in Manchester. This, and I cannot emphasise this enough, was an error. I have no memories of what followed beyond getting slung out of one of the dingiest bars I have ever been in, with a jukebox at full blast, for being too loud.

Wednesday I atoned for this day of excess by buying Roe a spectacular meal at 60 Hope St. This proved costly, but ultimately worth it as I had one of those marvellous evenings when you feel rich, for a bit. Any excuse to wear a suit really.

Since then I have mostly been getting horribly bitched at work, and now I'm jolly, jolly tired. Oh well.

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