Of Birthdays and Bacchanalias

My good friend and learned colleage R (for whom I'm sure I once penned a triple-barelled Germanic "pseudonym" - but which I've since forgotten) had occasion to celebrate the eve of the day of her birth on this Saturday night just passed. A merrie coterie of her friends and associates convened on the rooftop of a suitably inner-city bar to hoist tankards afoam with good cheer.

It was a roundly enjoyable evening, conversation flowed thick and fast, the mood was most convivial, and, by my estimation, a jolly good time was had by all! Huzzah and three Oxford rowing team cheers, R!

My own birthday looms around the corner, like a thug in a dark alley, armed with nowt but a heavy cosh and crippling halitosis. Try as I might, I am afeared that I shan't be able to give the steaming brute the slip. More to follow.