Pension Day on the Lash and off the Leash

Yesterday’s blip was a bit terse. Too terse, perhaps. And I’d left out some big news. I met MrFT on the cycle path! And The Beatles have released a new song, thanks to all sorts of cleverness from that Peter Jackson chap. I fancy that in the future snippets from my celebrated blip journal will be woven magically into an autobiographical memoir to rival that of your man Proust. 
Anyway, there wasn’t much to report today either. I was invited along to join the old codgers for a session, appropriately enough at Wetherspoons of course. Here’s the head of the table and MC, the not-bad-for-ninety, Hellewell. I tell you, the conversation was immense, and hilarious. Almost entirely set in the past, perhaps not unsurprisingly. And as one of the ten pals present was a PC at Leith docks back in the day, there was no shortage of (presumably often repeated) tales of minor criminality. And that was just amongst the polis, I should add. Though he did recall with particular relish nabbing a drunk driver. The miscreant was part of the HM Customs & Excise y’see. No love lost between the gangs of Leith.