We spent a fun Saturday evening in the beer garden of the Vine complete with beer festival, drunk anarchist poet, paranoid schizophrenic ex-army / Met police, Artist, dog et moi.
Last I saw and heard of ickle Mike was Artist shepherding him back to his Gran's on the Sunday morning after necking a 1664 and a bit of toast.
Mike, that was ... not Artist.
Anyone got any recent info? Did he survive the no 6 test?
Jayney x


