Mysteries of the Deep

Beer O’Clock. Friday afternoon. I’m next to an ex-colleague, one Mr Ciaran Dolan. We are using computers next to each other. Some things don’t change. Like my pants. update: some things do change. Ciaran renounced the booze, but that still didn’t give him many more years.

“Papa Lazarou.”, they say, “Where have you been the last week or two – we haven’t heard much. Aer you chained to the bed of some brothel?” Now, unusually for me, I haven’t been on the lookout for new wives. I have just been on some pisspot island beach, with very little internet access. And

Does anyone remember what happens at the end of Lord of the Flies? Going to be stranded on an island in a weeks time, and am idley contemplating likely outcomes….it must be pretty grizzly, as they made two films of it. In the one line description, it says something about reverting to savagery. And I