I avoided Castlefield Locks for six weeks after The Boy temporarily shattered my ego. The mere suggestion of anything canal related provoked a prickly sensation throughout my entire being, and I would avert my eyes after leaving Love Saves The Day so as to avoid Castle Street. It seemed that who, or more appropriately what, had provided me with the most joy was now pointing it's finger at me and calling me a loser.
So it was with the utmost disapproval that I went along to my colleague and friend's leaving do at Dukes 92. The sun was shining, the wine was flowing and everyone was on top form. Sitting outside with friends and posing for classic Blue Steel type photos, it didn't take me long to forget that I was supposed to be being miserable, godammit, and that's when it happened. I let my guard down.
Rough Stuff: enter stage left.
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