Meanwhile back at Pulteney Bridge, I ran into 3 of my mates on a mad mission for a hit of 'Shakeaways', the cool shop for milkshakes with the film noir attitood where you can order any 'George', 'Janet' or 'Chloe' and for your quid get drunk on orange with creamy stuff, meringue and to float your boat, all the cream topping you can legally handle.
Well the film noir allegory doesn't quite work. The kid boppin' behind the counter to the latest Gen Y toons had fake African jewellery sitting in an ear he has half-lobbed off at the lobe.
We noted that he was that so high on the fumes of sugar, it'd take him the rest of his adolescence and half a mid-life crisis to get over it.
So we found the bus, loaded up and hit the M4 once again passing the sleepin' sleep. I told you it was a sugar rush!
As we settled back into our seats, I had one more bad line in me.
Apparently the sheep weren't sleeping. They were merely crude copies built in taxidermy labs with their hooves nailed into the ground -- just for the tourists.
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