Life Begins for Dead Eye

We stuck to the path, and gave the Slaughtered Lamb a wide berth, as we ventured into the wilds of Sutton, on the fringes of the Yorkshire Dales for Dead Eyes fortieth birthday bash. Me and Crespo were feeling no pain when we arrived, a combination of little food, and loads of lager, meant we were wobbling long before the Mercenary collected us, plus the lovely Helen from the Prune Park. We rang loads of Taxi firms, till we found one that didn't know where Sutton was, and agreed a price of £15 to take us there, a mistake I will wager they don't make again. Nobody else would it for less than twenty five knicker. Lobon and the equally lovely Knock were already at the bar when we got there, and the binge drinking got under way. Crespo tried to wind up the Mercenary most of the evening about Leeds, but was in no fit state get him to bite. The ladies embarked on a Tequila binge, even managing to get Crespo to drink one, which he nearly left on the carpet. Of course, this being a fortieth birthday bash, there was music, this time in the form of a very good, if a bit wrinkly, band, who belted out some old T Rex tunes. Of course, being full to the brim with fizzy lager, and groovy music playing, I totally lost track of the fact I am rapidly approaching my 41st year and hit the floor, getting down to some serious "Bad Dad" dancing. Kids dived for cover, as I did my customary grooving, much to the mirth of those around me. But it must have some weird hypnotic power, as I was joined by the two lovelies I mentioned earlier. Thankfully Lobon and Mercenary couldn't work out the video function on my camera, and only one blurry picture is proof of my funky ass moves. We somehow managed to find another taxi driver to get us home, this time for £20, and I went back to Crespos for beers. He went straight to bed, bless him, and I stayed up to dazzle his other half with my wit and wisdom, only to find that half way through one of my scintillating anecdotes, that she had fallen asleep. I made my way to the spare room, and succumbed to my drunken stupor. Growing old disgracefully rules.