So, after a great weekend camping with our friends, this week Tony's finding it hard to get back to living in our filthy flat, in south-east London, and is wanting to get back to the countryside as soon as possible.
Yes, the boy is depressed, but if he thinks that spending another few days in a tent is going to pull him out of the pit of misery in which he's currently drowning (that's very poetic, isn't it?), I think he's confused.
Of course, I don't like to see my overweight friend feeling down, but with summer almost upon us, the birds singing, and the thoughts of long days drinking cold lager, and sleeping off our hangovers, I'm not sure what else he wants in life.
Okay, the countryside is all very well with its green fields, trees, and animals, but here in south-east London, with its cold, grey concrete, the ugly tower-blocks, the high rate of unemployment, the mindless vandalism, and the dog shit-lined pavements, what else could a man want?