I hooked up with #2 son this afternoon. We ate solids and drank caffeinated and alcoholic beverages, as is common in proper families. He let it slip, quite early on, that he’s in a band – of which I had no idea.

I suppose normally when one’s offspring drop a bombshell over coffee, it’s traditional for said bombshell to involve homosexuality- or at least a few dead nurses. Not in our whacky, zany gene-pool!

He let me hear a tune they’d recorded, which I was hellish impressed by. In fact, the only thing wrNog with this picture is that, somewhere along the line, I seem to have mutated into Les McQueen from ‘the league of gentlemen’.

‘it’s a fookin’ shit business – I’m glad I got out when I did… we were rooners-oop in ‘a song for Europe’, 1976… Creme Brulee, we was called…”

 

 

Coping with this ok?

Why not check out my novel, “1919 (inside)” available from smashwords?

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

Doing for relationships what the moors murderers did for jazz funk.

Advertisements