Itâs a fucking pisser.
I never usually work the week before Christmas as itâs invariably awful. I got talked into it this year by a pretty manageress who asked nicely and fluttered her eyelids (and cleavage) actually thatâs unfair. She is a lovely lady and a good friend, and she asked a favour, But, I know darned well that I picked the damned thing up that week.
If Iâd done my usual, Iâd have been absolutely grand.
Youâre dying from the minute you are born, you canât get any more sick than that - but lads get a little cough and they actually think they are dying. You couldnât make it up.