Well, I’m a little pickled.
The reason behind such inebriation is that my housemate Keith is emigrating to Spain to live with his girlfriend. So, tonight, Keith, Patrick and myself have been out on the town drinking Nottingham dry.
I’m going to miss the tall galloot. His jokes might be really shit, but he’s a real character. Taller than me, and slightly older, his penchant for really crappy jokes has become quite endearing over the last year or so, and I’m going to miss the big-footed bastard.
There will always be a Keith-shaped dent in the sofa in our lounge.
I just hope for a big-titted replacement. Perhaps blonde, but maybe brunette with a suitably saucy demeanour.
Keith, it’s been a pleasure.
Good luck, you old bastard.