I am hurting this morning

[Artois]

ok.

I leave work at 5 yesterday. Everything is fine.

I meet up with a mate of mine in Brighton and proceed to get a nice juicy KFC and a few beers.

I'll be leaving soon to go home and get an early night.
Everything is still fine.

Suddenly, it's 3:30am.
I get home pissed as a fart.
My wallet empty of the £60 or so that I had at the beginning of the evening.

For some reason I switch on the computer, only to find that we have sold Bobby.
I collapse in a heap on my bed and pass out.

Now I am at work again.
I have the muther of all headaches.
Bobby is still sold.

I am hurting.

 

[Marc]

heh sounds like a weird surreal night, I always get home pissed and read some news then wake up in some sort of trance like state thinking I dreamt it all...but this aint no dream...Bobby's gone

 

[Artois]

That's exactly it. I woke up this morning not really believing it.
Surely it can't be true. It must of been a dream.

Now I believe it.

 

[Mullers]

Just think how Dick Tight must feel if he had to sell Bobby for £1.5m - his arse must be real sore where he was f***ed!