Andy, Lee, Me
Nobody could ever say a bad word against him – he never hated anyone, everyone loved him. He’s gone – I’ll never hear him call me honič again.
I was speaking to him when I was at Wembley – a couple of hours later he died.
I’m going to miss the fucker…no more drunken talks about brussel sprout curry, no more drinking ’til we fall off the bar stools. 26 years old and gone – I miss him so much.
Last night in the Tudor we all had one or two drinks in his honour, there’s pictures up in there to remember him – most of them include me. It hurt like fuck every time I toasted him.
His dad died a couple of months before mine – we had a bond, we helped each other through the hard times.
Lee Bray – pisshead, bollocks talker. My friend.
I love you mate, next beer’s on me.