The glorious sporting weekend that was
Murrayfield, field of Scotch dreams. Big cheers. All Black bumbling. And a heated pitch. Softies...and I thought they wore skirts in the sleet! My trip up to Scotland was a series of misadventures really. booked one too many trains because I had forgotten about the Franz Ferdinand at the Hull Ice Arena on Friday night. Not bad. Keep an eye out for the Editors, they were better than the Franz - although the encore was outstanding. Hit the town in Hull after. Scary. Encountered one of those situations where someone you really dont want to, comes up to you and starts playing with your hair. "Get away!". Anyone with curly hair will understand this occasional curse/blessing (very fickle).
Got on the train after missing my bus from Beverley at some riduculous hour the next morning. Jacko came and picked me up. And he just happened to bring his cousin, a fella by the name of jonothan findon who also worked at EBOP - I remember seeing his leaving party invite and saying "Who's he then?". Great afternoon/night. We struggled through the Grand Slam, shots of every colour - red, green, blue and white (well it was brown...but England are shite aren't they?). Thank god we didn't have the vodka and tabasco shot...And then NZ just kept winning. And of course the pub was full of smug kiwis (no-one dancing, drinking copius quantities of piss, and watching ruggers!). Where's an Ocker when you need one to wind up? 24-0. 24-22 Wales (in black) over the Wallabies. Grand Slam.
Then Sunday Jacko moved to Glasgow and I had a train booked for the Monday...so i spent the night at his old flat by my lonesome self (a.k.a lelf). Weird.
Got on the train after missing my bus from Beverley at some riduculous hour the next morning. Jacko came and picked me up. And he just happened to bring his cousin, a fella by the name of jonothan findon who also worked at EBOP - I remember seeing his leaving party invite and saying "Who's he then?". Great afternoon/night. We struggled through the Grand Slam, shots of every colour - red, green, blue and white (well it was brown...but England are shite aren't they?). Thank god we didn't have the vodka and tabasco shot...And then NZ just kept winning. And of course the pub was full of smug kiwis (no-one dancing, drinking copius quantities of piss, and watching ruggers!). Where's an Ocker when you need one to wind up? 24-0. 24-22 Wales (in black) over the Wallabies. Grand Slam.
Then Sunday Jacko moved to Glasgow and I had a train booked for the Monday...so i spent the night at his old flat by my lonesome self (a.k.a lelf). Weird.
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