I have this theory: EVERYONE wants to be in the pub drinking with pals when a crazy guy comes over, as he often does, spouting half truths about the world. You listen for 5 minutes whilst he rants and intermittently spits on the floor. Then you stop him mid-flow and proceed to tell him the wildest story ever told; naked bear fights, ping pong with a rat, tadpole clairvoyants, lonely baseball sex, crawling up a sheep’s anus – all good jumping off points. You hit him so hard with your crazy life that he’s the one who looks normal. He straightens his tie, combs his ‘hair’ and walks out the door to begin his accountant (synonym for boring) life.
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