A new career? - part 1

And so at last the great celebration of the nuptials of the lovely Christine and the splendid Chris. For reasons still to be satisfactorily explained Christine's father had suggested that our subject should be Master of Ceremonies for the happy day and so he had great fun with his tailor acquiring a toastmaster's jacket.

Finding the thing not fitting the day he picked it up was not really very helpful and necessitated the assistance of a courier to actually get the damn thing to him.

The weekend itself was being held on a country estate in deepest darkest Kent and with about a million police on patrol the journey down was not desperately exciting however to cheer everyone up on the Friday night the mothers were hosting a splendid supper and keeping everyone stocked up on booze.

With Boris and Churchy (and of course Mrs Churchy) having flown in for the occasion a great deal of nostalgic catching up was engaged in in the usual way before, rather astonishingly (and possibly a first), our subject was the last man standing and was up until the early hours on his own drinking and reading Private Eye.

Boris was of course delighted to be woken up (they were sharing a room) by the sound of his best Tourette's impression having smashed his head into the very low roof-beam in their room.