August 8 (Sunday): Rangeboy. I awaken on Ross’s unfolded out sofa bed feeling fine! Result! I am wearing my Millwall shirt and I am ready to go. In a smart move, yesterday beforehand I bought Hotdog and Q magazine and brought them with me, so I am able to read them until the rest of the house begins murmuring.

Eventually there is a knock on the door and it is Ross, pretty hungover, up and out to early morning party. We watch TV feeling frazzled. Popworld is on T4 and these days the boy and the girl are outdoing themselves, they really are genuinely funny and truly act like they could not give a shit. And not least today, the Sugababes are on there and proper Mutya looks fantastic as ever.

The other guy (Matthew) emerges a little later and he truly is in a bad state, much worse than Ross. He is wearing a Norwich City shirt, so now you have me in my Millwall shirt vs him in his Norwich shirt. And I don’t wish to be arrogant but I win. These days there are very feel real moments when/where I feel alpha male but this morning is most definitely one of them, I look a fucking thug in my team’s shirt whereas he just looks…..wrong! I really wish we had gotten a photo of the pair of us together.

As a lifesaving exercise/gesture Ross makes us bacon sandwiches and they taste like the best food ever made by man. We eat them outside in the garden on a wonderfully beautiful summer’s Sunday morning. The liberal but not liberal girls (Becki and friend) from the party last night return from their hotel, having antagonised the locals and obviously egging on Norwich boy for some kind of attention/action (why???). They turn up with The Observer (obviously) and tell tales of how they pretended to be lesbians at the hotel they stayed at and how they would like become March’s token lesbians. I know all this is all said somewhat in jest but why do people have to be like this, out to antagonise people who in actuality probably don’t give a flying fuck. I pick up the Review section of the Observer and there is a Woody Allen interview. I comment about how much I like his films and Miss Mutya comments “he’s good but he’s very male�. Of course he’s fucking male!

Soon everyone leaves and I am eventually left as the sole survivor of the party and not wishing to outstay my welcome, around midday I hit the road back to Essex. I thank Ross genuinely grateful for the invite and the opportunity to get away for the weekend.

The drive home is a bit of a nightmare compared to the drive to March. As per the first trip, the majority of the journey is spent getting from March back onto the A14. As I get stuck in stereotypical Sunday traffic I notice a Ford garage that is called Harrison Ford. Now, that has to have been done on purpose, with tongue firmly in cheek. That or Han Solo has started selling (excellent) Ford motor vehicles in Cambridgeshire. Once on the A14 I pass Cambridge around 1.20 and I do Cambridge to Essex again in record time, albeit this time the trip is thoroughly enjoy and fast paced in a laid back manner.

As the A14 ends and I turn off for Colchester, I stop off at the out of town Tesco to get the day’s News Of The World (hey, already flicked through the Observer). I stroll round Tesco fronting in my Millwall shirt, basically egging on comment/abuse. I get nothing. When I get back to Colchester, I go to the Asda expecting some of the same. Nothing. Instead, I get the new collectors edition of Blazing Saddles on DVD and I whimper home.

In the afternoon my weekend catches up with me and I false asleep watching said DVD (Blazing Saddles) not really enjoying it in the process. When I awaken Smokey And The Bandit is on TV and like an underdeveloped sad case, I actually sit and watch it. I deserve to go blind.

Sunday evening hits the most depressing time/part of the week that it is. People laugh at me when I say that traditionally that this is “bath night� but what else is a person to do in preparation to dragging their hollow arsed souls to work for another week? On TV is She’s All That followed by Rocky V and depression is completed by viewing of parts of these movies.

np: Kostars – Never So Lonely