PRIVATE DICKS

So I gets a call from Sybs the Drummer Man. No he's not lost this time but he is afraid SOMETHING is lost.

He's afraid that Mr Guiver - guitarmanextraordinaire - has lost his marbles . . . a ukism for nuts, gaga, frooty loopy, mad as a bag of badgers (when I first heard this I asked why . . . man said if you were in a bag with other badgers wouldn't you be mad . . .good point).

Anyways, Sybs man is thinking the Guive has lost it cos he told him - Sybs got told by Guivey that is, keep up - that him and me were prepping wed and thurs this week and the band rehearsing Friday.

That is correct says I.

Now it fekkin aint says the drummerman. It's May 3 for rehearsal. That's this week says I.

Oh fek says the sybs its you aint it . . . you've lost a week . . .

Apparently this is so . . . I've lost a week of April and it took a man who got lost in Berlin without shoes at 5 in the morning to point this out to me.

Marbles . . .losing. . . yep, that's me that is.