they shoot horses don't they?

Yes, title of blog reflects dance marathon at pub last Saturday. Two guitarists were playing, and they kept going without breaks until 1 a.m. Pub packed, and atmosphere similar to New Years Eve, even down to conga line appearing behind bar. Naturally I threw myself into the fray with scant regard for 65 years old body. Jived with huge enthusiasm and brio. Invented new and hitherto unseen twiddles, steps and pirouettes. Cannot resist the music. I fear the twist was a twiddle too far, as have had muscle pain all over body since then. Plus back is sending out sharp reminders on regular basis. Is possibly deeply affronted at liberties taken, as is doing its best to recover from previous injury when Fell Into The Void in bedroom.

Think East-Enders script writers have really lost the plot. Last night they attempted duologue between two minor female characters, which sounded like something from Little Britain. All this in middle of dire episode featuring funeral of baby. Is surreal.