I must have been very drunk at my friend the farmer's birthday dinner-party last Saturday evening. I've just found a scrap of paper in my pocket on which I appear to have noted down in almost undecipherable scrawl a snippet of conversation which I must have overheard:
I've written my biography on my computer: everything I've ever done since I was born…
It's 38 pages!
(It's for the grandchildren really.)
You see, even when I'm totally shit-faced, I'm still thinking of you chaps.
Thanks, Pops!