Sunday, July 25, 2004

July 7 (Wednesday): This morning I wake up snug, emerging from a dream where I have a girlfriend and I don’t actually mess it up!  Champion!

Today starts great, Moyles is on form and plays DMX, Foo Fighters, Snow Patrol, Basement Jaxx and Kanye West.

In the office, Stevo is out yet again so I make great ground on my job (Brooks) basically through the fact that I and he are not hurling abuse at each other all day.  I tell my doctor that our little abuse sessions are done in jest but she fully believes that they mentally take their toll.  I suspect she is right.

At lunchtime I go into town with Louise again and she is so cool beans, right now she is the person in the office I can most identify with.  And I’m beginning to quite fancy her for it.  We go to Burger King and get Spider-man meals.  I try to talk her into getting a kids meal and therefore the toy but she is having none of it.  The BK Spider-man is ok, nothing to write home about and definitely not worth the extra expense.  Still, again it is just to be with someone cavalier and on the edge to buy a Burger King with me.

By home time the rain is heavier than hell, heavier than heavy metal.  I walk home with Louise under an umbrella and it is a bit cosy.  The rain is fucking unbelievable and like a cheeky bastard I manage to blag a lift with Louise from Drury Road to Layer Road (Hollytree Court).  If you just knew how short a distance/walk that is you would pummel me for being lazy.  When she drops me off, she actually shows some interest as just to which apartment in the complex is mine.  Nice.

Football tonight is a strange one.  Again, unfortunately, I am not particularly on song, my performance reminding me of the game back in December I played after an exam and getting stoned at lunchtime and eating an entire box of dry cereal before turning up and turning out and letting in a hatful of goals.  Tonight I don’t let in a hatful, but I certainly let in enough.  It all begins with me turning up late anyway; because of Louise’s lift I managed to get home in time to catch Phoebe before she left work so I MSNed with her for a bit too long.  And of course, it was raining and travel it always crap when that happens.  I turn up late and they have already started with Kev in goal.  It is 0-0 but soon I manage to let a couple in.  That said, one of the first things I see tonight is Stevo scoring a blinder.  And then he goes and adds another soon afterwards, Stevo is on form!  He doesn’t complete his hat-trick though, Mike the Burkett’s keeper is having the game of his life tonight.  Stevo does manage a hat-trick of sorts when he scores an own goal against me, which I really should have saved and wrongly I manage to escape blameless for.  Tonight’s game is pretty much the Kev and Andrew, our Father and Son team-mates who hurl so much abuse at each other during the course of the game it is unheard of.  Remember the boxing family in Police Academy that kept punching each other?  This is kind of the soccer equivalent.  We make it to half time drawing 4-4.  The second half remains tight also.  At one point a shot is fired between Kev’s and then between mine and in straight in the goal.  Once more I am reprieved when Kev goes to me “close your legsâ€� (first time someone has said that to me) and Andrew snaps back at him “it went through your legs alsoâ€�.  The second half carries on and Mike continues to play a blinder, almost saving everything fired at him.  The game ends with us losing 10-8, perversely probably my best goals against score for a very long time (I’ll check the Excel spreadsheet sometime, ho ho).  It ends with me congratulating Mike and him telling me “it’ll be your turn next weekâ€�.  Maybe baby.

I get in and decide to listen to Carter USM MP3s for reasons unknown to me.  I text Nina to tell her I’ve “seen the lightâ€� (in her eyes).  She congratulates me and I end the night texting Nina until Big Brother comes on (I think I’m addicted).  All good things come to an end when I turn in for the night, beginning to watch Election but soon falling asleep in the process.  Dashing.

np: Carter USM – Alternative Alf Garnett


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