Remember sound of breaking and screeching voices downstairs as the boloists climb the walls to late night tunes and maroots. Upstairs, busy causing trouble of my own, raised voices and recriminations and this morning, feel pretty shameful and the need to say sorry to someone special… ouch. Happy birthday Lurcho….. and big up for getting searched by the police on the way home. Don’t let the weasels grind you down. Crimp hope your head’s not too sore for Chicago middle class musical action this evening. Paps, wrap another maroot… throw some prawns on the barbie!