11:12 p.m., 18.02.06
Blame it on the Boogie

I don't think I ever mentioned my old housemate Adam. He is however notable for a few things:

- He was allergic to the only cat he ever loved (N'ovaries was her name, and she belonged to our other housemate Pete, and she had no nose, just a pink coffee scrolly thing where it had been lopped off - either way, Adam was allergic to her and ended up moving out because of her. A story of its own, completely wthin brackets)

- His brother was a rally car driver who could fang any vehicle sideways through a corner with the best of them. However he had to be driven to races by his mum because his road license had spontaneously combusted in a flurry of demerit points.

- During his stay with us, Adam spent two months on crutches from possibly the most ridiculous injury I've ever heard of. He was groovin' on down in an 80's night at a club, when he pulled a particularly vigorous Michael Jackson dance move and somehow managed to spin his kneecap around such that it was pointing backwards. He initially thought the guy next him had kicked him, but later realised this was an unfounded suspicion and the only course left was to blame it on the boogie.

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