Today acf is four years old. I invited a clown for the party but I think he went to the
wrong address.* Silly clown.
How about a birthday story? This is a true one. When I was in my teens I used to go to the disco. (It was the early 80s, this was still legal.) One cool thing about that much maligned art form is that people could do their own thing and not get ostracized for it, as often happens outside of discotheques.
Now, I'm not saying I was a great dancer. My Saturday night fever was more of a running temperature. But I had a good time. Until that night.
There I was, gettin' down, strobes flashing like my Cateye does these days, when all of a sudden I found myself surrounded by my own fan club. I noticed they were making roughly the same moves, but in an exaggerated and comical fashion. Wait a minute. They were making fun of me! Using the medium of dance as a cruel critique! Oh, the shame.
I could've slunk away to a dark corner and nursed an overpriced coke, blackest despair my only companion. Instead I kept
dancing.
Billy Idol wannabe says "In your dreams."* anothercyclingforum.co.uk was originally purchased by the owner of yacf.co.uk to redirect there
