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Originally Posted by Wynonie Harris
Who knows?...but I have this frightening mental picture of him staggering towards me on the terraces at somewhere like Barnet or Rochdale, half-drunk bottle of Merlot in hand, shouting, "here's my mate, Wyn!", followed by our swift ejection from the ground by burly stewards.
(Don't ask me how he'll know me...I have a horrible superstition that he'll "home in" on me, via some diabolical type of ESP).  |
My mate Eric has already fingered you Winnie, Eric would never let the stewards chuck me out, he values my advice. Chin Chin.
