Night is at hand already: it is well
To be supplied as if life fits a plan
When Phèdre, dying, says that she can see
Already not much more than through a cloud,
And as it lifts away I start these last
THE Friday Boys are a disparate group of men spread across Tyneside who meet once a week - 'always on a Friday' - to talk about the arts, raise a glass to recently departed heroes and villains and, at the evening's end, down a whisky or two. The FBs have only one golden rule - talk of the working week is strictly off-limit.