"What's up with thee?" I ask.
"We're playing silly games at work again," he explained.
"Not clock card rugby again!?"
"No, we had to knock that on the head."
"If you need to speak to a colleague in the office you have to skip to their desk, singing a song. I'm the wrong age and shape for skipping round the office twenty times a day."
Thursday, August 13, 2009
I bump into Ken Barmy at Victoria Station. He has a pronounced limp (pronounced "Limp").