I took lunch with aunt Pam. The brittle sparrow was drowning in a bright pink Jaegar jacket festooned with gold buttons the size of watch faces. She resembled Dynasty's Krystle Carrington suffering from senile dementia. Directly after dessert, she wetted herself. A puddle was quite evident on the restaurant floor. The hem of her Jaegar dripped urine. As we left the restaurant she said, "Oh, I feel some drops" and I believed she was about to relieve herself yet again. Fortunately, she then began to supply a delivery of "It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring". It varied little in rendition to that of a wailing cat. There was I, strolling down a crowded High Street, arm-in-arm with a yodelling, piss soaked, demented Dynasty extra. The heavens opened and a mantra echoed through my mind, "To a sparrow's heart, I surrender, I surrender, I surrender..."