It's what Sundays were made for

Please check out yesterdays back blip as I think it's worth it. If not whats the worst thats happened? You lost five seconds of you life? You lose that putting your socks on, so just don't wear socks one day and you'll get the time back.

Sunshine, cold drinks and mowing the lawn, the quintessential English Sunday afternoon. Probably. I wouldn't know really I paid Kirky £10 to mow the lawn for me and then watched from the comfort of the patio set as he made his way around my garden. I felt a bit like the Lord of the Manor, only my house isn't a manor and my friends would say the closest I get to being a lord is a 'gaylord'.

I decided to stop all that 'be quiet and be silent' bollocks as it isn't really me. I made a point and made a couple of half decent SP's in the process. I will in due course be returning comments etc, but as my Mum would say 'its far too nice to be inside on the computer on a day like this', or as my Dad would say 'what's wrong with you? Get out in the sun boy you look like a paracetamol on legs'.

Went out with my old man Friday evening to a meal at a hotel with a load of ex Lincoln lads. I have a photo to put on but will do it on my return to work. I got absolutely shitfaced and ended up making a fool of myself. Two things stick in my mind. Karl McCartney (local Tory MP) was at the table next to me and I introduced myself and explained my recent outburst to him. He clearly didn't give a toss, and passed me his card, to which I said 'Cheers Tory-boy' and walked off. I won't be getting involved there then.

I also saw my Dad talking to Lincoln City manager Steve Tilson so I went up and asked 'hows it going Steve?', to which I received the reply 'I'm Scott'..... oops I was talking to first team coach Scott Lindsay. I tried to save the situation by saying 'I know you are, but he thinks you're Steve Tilson' and pointing at my Dad. Scott Lindsay replied 'No, he doesn't'.

I went and got another pint. Whatever, Steve or Scott you still preside over the worst eleven Lincoln players ever to pull on a shirt: how embarrassing that you attended a meal celebrating the greatest eleven ever to pull on a shirt. It should have been them cowering in the corner feeling shameful.

Ended the night sleeping in my old bedroom at my Dads. Bad news? He snores so loud I got an hours sleep, and he was two rooms away.

Happy Sunday etc etc.

(I was going to link to Take Thats Back For Good but couldn't bring myself to advocate boy band trash on my journal. If you want to look it up yourself, the sentiment is still the same).