Are you Jez Buzz?

It is 2003, August, somewhere in Berkshire, Reading to be precise and i find myself multi-tasking like the female Buddha. Myself along with three fellow gents are making our way steadfast back to our canvass lodgings. My head would be a tad fuzzy but circumstances call for clear, concise thoughts. Balanced in my left paw is a vessel of nondescript lash, in my right is a hoodlum of the highest calibre. I should explain that my erstwhile chum, Jeremy, is beginning to feel the effects of drinking the equivalent of a water butt of Russia's finest. It takes two men, myself and Gareth to keep his bearings steady, as i said there is yet another who could and perhaps should help ease the load, but that's never really been part of Richard 'i want what Mackie's got' Mackie's mandate. Instead making crude maternal suggestions and coaxing a physical altercation with Jeremy seem to be his only useless input, thus increasing the burden placed upon the saintly Gareth and your very own chivalrous narrator.

This short anecdote really has nothing much to do with anything anymore, but it does go someway to reveal the curious dynamics that encompass social groupings. But before over-analysis ruins the feel good factor of this edition i should note that it is not a deep set love for Jeremy that prompted me to hoist his half weight over my shoulder, moreover the fact that i was closest too him at said juncture. For if i was an extra three feet adrift then it would have been yours truly directing the matriarchal abuse rather than Richard. It was merely a product of coincidence.

Now coincidence is a funny thing. People say that bad things come in three's, this is not a view that i would generally be in accordance with. However recent events have planted the seed of doubt well and truly into your esteemed hero's anus. Having just been informed that my employment is to be terminated forth with, coupled with the recent bereavement endured, would and probably should reduce this once mighty titan of manhood to a quivering heap of patheticness waiting nervously for the third installment of this triangle of despair. However, not wishing to put too fine a point on it, i ain't a pussy and with that view i say 'Bring it on world.'

In contrast to the the aforementioned view on bad luck and the frequency with which it can affect, it is your humble teacher's view that there is such a trait as being lucky and indeed creating your own luck.

A very short example; whatever notion or action possessed your gallant hero to listen to the UFO 'best of' album is not significant, what is crucial here is that whatever 'it' was, was lucky, as they fookin' kick posterior. Indeed it is very likely that their progressive rock ballads would still be lost to the heap of non-played itunes classics if it wasn't for 'it'.

I for one would like to salute 'it' and pay homage to the luck it has bestowed. Oh and before you yin-yang types spark up with that nonsensical balance effluent that you love to preach i say get a life, get a grip, get some UFO.