There’s a party in your pants and everyone is yet to RSVP – apart from an old colleague of yours from way back when, who politely declined.
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There’s a party in your pants and everyone is yet to RSVP – apart from an old colleague of yours from way back when, who politely declined.
WAKING in an alley behind a kebab shop, robes covered in vomited meat, head pounding like Dutch gabba techno, I make a note not to join a sherry soiree with Aled Jones on an empty stomach.
This is a Mash Premium article, exclusively for subscribers. Sign up for Mash Premium to get ad-free browsing and bonus content.
Mash Premium gives you extra content and ad-free browsing. Subscribe to view this article.
WAKING in an alley behind a kebab shop, robes covered in vomited meat, head pounding like Dutch gabba techno, I make a note not to join a sherry soiree with Aled Jones on an empty stomach.
