One night in 1984, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards indulged in alcohol in a bar in Amsterdam. In the early hours of the morning, Mick, swollen with ego and alcohol, picked up the phone, dialed Charlie Watts' room number and, seeing that the latter did not answer, began shouting in the hotel corridor demanding to see his drummer . - WHERE IS MY DAMN DRUMMER? Having learned of this strange and not at all serene situation, Charlie got out of bed, entered the shower, dressed in his suit, tied his tie and headed with the calm of an English gentleman towards the room where they were Keith and Mick, still quite drunk. He knocked on the door. Mick opened it and without saying a word, punched him in the face. Mick lay on the ground not understanding much, and Keith just looked at Charlie in bewilderment, asking him why he hit Mick. The answer was short, clear and direct: NEVER CALL ME YOUR DRUMMER AGAIN, YOU ARE MY ****ING SINGER! please log in to view this image
During my wife's labour, the nurse came up to me and said, "How about Epidural Anaesthesia?" I said, "Thanks, but we've already picked a name."
As a builder, l’m fortunate to have good trades working for me. I have a barista plumber… please log in to view this image
