Dignity, always dignity.

Sitting on my throne in my local the other day, who should I spy propping up the bar?

The legendary Alex Higgins and no mistake.

Although it would be easy to convince yourself that it was not himself at all.

Cancer has ravaged his body to such an extent that he could now hide behind his snooker cue and even stick his tongue out and you still would not see him.

Anyhow, he ordered his pint of Guinness and started to read the paper.  Within minutes, his head started to slump, his arms folded and away to the land of nod with him.  After a couple of minutes a huge string of drool escapes from between his cancerous lips.

Kev says “I think Alex is dead”!

I look at Kev and ask, “Which one of us will take the photo on our phone and sell it to the papers”?

Kev looks horrified for a split second then his face cracks a huge grin.  “Now I realise what kind of cunt you are”.

I smile and nod.  He doesn’t realise the half of it.

Fuck you Alex, you will be with  me sooner than you think. 

Bald Devil loves you all.