heres a quick one, on one of the loons i know, it was a few years ago in the summertime,i bumped into frank, hes the local nutter that rides round on a mountain bike with the whippet trotting beside ,can of special brew in one hand and a joint hanging out of his gob,frank doesnt really speak he sort of growls and grumbles, and his pitch changes when hes getting enthusiastic about somthing,hes a white fella with dreadlocks and only ever wears camo ,hes in his late forties now and has hardly any teeth left ,we started communicating the best we could and i sort of made out that he wanted a favou