Once I’m back on the road, I listen to the radio. Nothing the station plays is quite my cup of tea but I sing along anyway. For the first time ever, I decide to take the back roads home; avoid the motorway for a change. What’s the rush? Motorways are always so mind-numbingly boring. Plus, there’s a good chance I’ll stop in a service station and stock up on junk food. Screw that. I’ve eaten way too much s**t today already. I prod my stomach. Shaking my head in disappointment, I imagine all those cut-to-shreds bodybuilders, prancing along the beach in Mexico. And there’s me, passing out from sucking in my gut to save face. Even though the guys and me always make fun of those roided-up idiots, we all secretly would kill to have a six-pack and guns like Arnie.
On the way, I stop off at Ed’s r
