A Suitable Alternative to Brexit.

Having just read something else disturbing on the subject of the Fallout Following Brexit, I was all set to make another impassioned post on... guess what? I decided that enough was enough for one day, and instead discovered an old file of pictures-I-used-to-think-were-dead-good-but-don’t-any-longer.

This is one of me as a young ’un, back in the days when it wasn’t unusual for me to eat two full portions of fish and chips after I’d done a good night’s work as the roadie for my wife’s rock band. That’s why I have rather more flesh on my face (I was around two stone – 28lbs – heavier than I am now), and – although you can’t see it – rather more muscle on my arms. The similarity with Hagrid is a bit uncanny, isn’t it?

 

There now, isn’t that gruesome? But it beats making another post on Brainless Brits and why I think it would be quite nice to go and live in Tonga.