If you're the praying kind, send up a supplication that the madness of the past doesn't return and a new generation won't be familiar with the dark absurdity my friend Mike recounts:
When I shattered my kneecap (in a car accident) some 13 years ago, I was taken to the Royal Hospital in Belfast. There, in a dark ward, in the early hours of the morning - alone - I caught the eye of a suspicious-looking gent in the bed opposite me. He looked like he was in for the same condition as myself.He eyed me coldly before nodding to my bandaged knee and muttering: "What did you do?"
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