On Christmas Eve I had roast chicken for dinner in the Club Britannia (Posh) restaurant onboard the QM2.
I spent Christmas morning talking to god on the big white telephone.
Following this I had six hours of persistent hiccups. (3,600 hics - give or take.)
I sent a desperate email to my mate Greg Sacramento for some good advice, and got my lovely misus on the case.
She massaged my back (liver region) for ten minutes, got me to burp inwards, and the magic ingredient (said a little prayer) and 'hey presto' it worked, and I was
'as right as nine pence.'
It almost took my mind off my "T."
I hope you all had a better day than me, guys.
Now I can't remember for the life of me just what I promised the 'Big Guy?'
Dave x
Jazzer
I spent Christmas morning talking to god on the big white telephone.
Following this I had six hours of persistent hiccups. (3,600 hics - give or take.)
I sent a desperate email to my mate Greg Sacramento for some good advice, and got my lovely misus on the case.
She massaged my back (liver region) for ten minutes, got me to burp inwards, and the magic ingredient (said a little prayer) and 'hey presto' it worked, and I was
'as right as nine pence.'
It almost took my mind off my "T."
I hope you all had a better day than me, guys.
Now I can't remember for the life of me just what I promised the 'Big Guy?'
Dave x
Jazzer