Straight White Guys

I'm fighting off tiredness as I write this post.

Last night was spent eating, drinking and making merry with the Straight White Guy at Montrose's fine Indian Cottage.

As I've mentioned on these hallowed pages in the past, I've known Eric since my late teens, when I spent a week's work experience as his assistant.

I mentioned that he introduced me to the wonderful music of Stevie Ray Vaughan and that I bore witness to his prodigious capacity to demolish McDonald's food.

Eric was also the first, and to date only, person ever to attempt to cure one of my hangovers with Goldschlager, which isn't so much a favour as a punishment.

Anyway, last night afforded Eric and I the opportunity to catch up, eat too much Indian food (including the garlic cheese naan, a wondrous foodstuff previously unknown to Groanin' Jock and Mrs Wife, but now very likely to feature in all subsequent trips to the Indian) and drink too much beer.

Which should go some way to explaining why I'm now battling against sleep whilst feeling a tad sensitive.

I'm pretty certain that all present had a great evening, and in my case it represented a first 'blog meet'....of sorts.

As it was reading his ramblings that first set me on the road to blogging, that makes Eric my blogfather. Which seemed to take him by surprise, although this mild shock was quickly offset by consumption of several pints of Cobra lager.

(For those who are new to these parts, in the photograph above, I'm the drunk one in the dark shirt, draped around Eric's neck like some hideous scarf and displaying the fact that I have more chins than a Chinese phone directory. Unfortunately, the camera never lies....)