jOhn, I have come to love your piss-poor syntax. And your company. And your curry. And your idiosyncratic driving style. And your folk club. And your helpful nature finding stuff on the net. And your drunken rants at gigs. And that bloke you found to mend my broken clock. And the story about the wags that filled your wheely bin with soil and founded a mobile garden. And where to find a Halal butcher when we had a Muslim mate staying. And for at least five horses that came in on good odds. And letting on where the best brothel in Hull is (Park Street, next to the Vets).

Wish my mind was that closed.