LongDarkTeaTimeoftheSoul

By Nigel

Stream

Despite the fluffy picture today has been unequivocally sh**e!

It started with waking up to find that two kids had been given whistles and sent to play in the street outside our house, and they only game they could think of to play was talking turns at blowing their whistles. For 2 hours!

Then there was the roadworks of course, plus the fact that the guy on the bus in the seat next to me ate a family bag of Minstrels, handful by handful, without closing his mouth or pausing to catch his breath at any point during the whole freakshow.

Then I waited 35 minutes for one of the four 26s due before one eventually turned up, no doubt due to the aforementioned roadworks.

After a brief respite to enjoy the Sun going down on the beach at Seton Sands with a smokey sausage supper it was back on the party bus with the Preston Pans youth and their happy hardcore enabled mobile phones (I keep thinking I might put some shoutygruntydeathcoremetal on my phone for just such an occasion but fear I may get knifed).

And to top it all when I got back in the house I found out Keegan has resigned, not that I blame him, or Alan Curbishley for that matter. The Premiership is becoming a joke
. Its becoming a great big life-size Panini sticker book for the obsenely wealthy.

But now I am safely home, one bottle of aptly named Paulaner Hell done and a bottle of Kwak on its way down and I'm beginning to relax again. I'll get on to developing my films from the past week whilst enjoying a nice glass of Barolo and the world will seem pleasant again.

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