there is a reason why bras and ranties has a wooden piglet with wings perched upon our desk at home, watching over our (no doubt absurd) antics with his cool, collected (only occasionally judgemental – depending on the dutchie) eye. sometimes (slash more often than not) the almost impossible’s got to be pulled out of one bras and ranties ass, and that fucking little swine reminds us that miracles can happen. we make pigs fly every day, usually necessitated by our extremely poor time management. whatever. they happen.
so pigs flew this morning when a gin-soaked bras and ranties opted for a early bed/early up strategy; one which keen readers will note is rarely ever employed. in fact, not once can we recall rousing at the ungodly hour that began with 6. 6! torturous it was.