There are so many memories ... which to choose? How about the time you were instructing me on goth garb, but I insisted on wearing brown corduroy trousers to the party? We were only six, but you were livid! Or the time I dropped a sizpence in your pint, and you downed the contents in one draught, only to have the coin lodge in your oesophagus, and we had to rush you to hospital, where they X-rayed you and found the coin had moved on down, but you had a strange metal object in your left tit shaped like Elvis?