prolific.org

A friend of mine remembers everything. He remembers each and every day of the 15 years I’ve known him. He remembers who said what. Who ate what. Where we ate. Where we went. He remembers what we did even if he wasn’t there. He remembers random encounters. Pick a date, any date. He can tell us what went on in our lives.

It’s great. Except when he reminds you of the exact time and date you were an unbelievable arsehole.

My friend reminded me of the time, when I confused being honest with being rude. When I told a street musicians just how much I hated his music.

“Can you spare a guilder for the music?”

“What music? I didn’t HEAR any MUSIC.”