There's a scene in the movie, 'As Good as it Gets', where Jack Nicholson's character says: "Go sell crazy somewhere else; we're all filled up here".
Jack could well have been talking about Bristol.
Today, on a crisp but sunny Friday, the following crazy-ass things happened to me:
Just after 8.00am, while walking to work, I saw a drug deal going down. And no, I'm not imaginging the bag of white powder that changed hands – I was stopped at the traffic lights for a good few minutes where anyone with a functioning pair of retinas would have witnessed it.
I had to swerve to avoid a used condom, two piles of vomit and a junkie beggar whose efforts at elicting cash were severely disadvantaged by the fact that his eyes kept rolling back into his head.
On a lunchtime mission to seek solace for a hacking cough, two window cleaners invited me into their white van, promising it would be “the best hour I'd spend this week”.
On the way home, I saw a man drive his car into a concrete pole, back it up and do it again.
But perhaps the biggest surprise of the day was getting home to find that the bitch landlady had laid new carpet – and it wasn't totally heinous.
There's only so much excitement a girl can handle.