Monday - back to work, back to reality Monday. I hate chuffing Mondays - second worst day of the week for me only "trumped" by Sundays when the god squad are on patrol. Well, apart from Easter Monday which is nice for religious reasons namely that we get to remember the life and preachings of the jesus bloke by large rabbits delivering chocolate eggs. Don't seem to recall seeing the word "chocolate" in the bible but perhaps I wasn't paying attention. Come to think of it, I don't recall the word "rabbit" in there either.
*nudge in back from conscience* stay away from talking religion.........
Apparently today is the 20th anniversary of Fergie taking charge at Old Trafford. Goth that makes me feel old. I remember Big Ron, and Dave Sexton to name just two of his predecessors. I'm just glad Fergie wasn't in charge of my school football team when I spooned a penalty over the bar in the schools cup final. Still, my football career lasted longer than my rugby one. Unfortunate thing with being Welsh - rugby is the national sport so you have to play it at school. Not the best option for a stick insect like me. Nice career statistics though - played twice, sent off twice.
The games master explained the principles but my intelligence wouldn't allow me to dive to grab someone's feet whilst they were wearing boots with studs. Didn't/doesn't make any sense. So during the first game, when he shouted "stop him" as some fat chuffer ran directly at me, I did. Unfortunately for said, by now running relatively fast lard arse, my Karate was a lot better than he was expecting. Red card and off I went. Similar thing happened in my second game with the same result. Thus ended the rugby career I never wanted anyway.
Didn't break the land speed record on the way back from the airport yesterday. Too busy messing about with the CD player while driving. Anyway, it's too dangerous driving fast - might squash a hedgehog or anything. For some reason, the Spanish are great in straight lines 0-150 kph with no messing but as soon as the road features a bend they stamp on the brakes. It's like being back in the YUK when the first snowflake falls - severe panic attacks (not me, my fellow motorists!).