So, we’re out of the World Cup. Tsk, eh? I slept right through the match, but saw our cack last penalty.

Let’s see how long it takes for the many flags to be taken down…

Technorati Tags: england, england flags, football, penalty, shite, world cup

Well, I did indeed promise an update later on, so here it is.

I’ve not been very “active” on the whole posting front, as I’m sure some of you have realised. This is down to the fact I’ve been on the dreaded nightshift again. There’s only so much of my life that can be taken over by using computers,, so I’ve been a little quiet on that front.

Thankfully, nightshifts are over now, and for the next two days, I’m at the mercy of SillyShifts (TM) .It involves finishing work at 8AM, and being back in for 8PM, finishing at 2AM, and being back in for 2AM until 11. Something’s got to give, and I pretty much believe it’s going to be my sanity. Thankfully, I start a week off on Sunday night, so that’s a bonus.

Work was weird tonight. I actally got injured by a moth. Oh yes. Well, not exactly injured, but something I didn’t know is that moths have little barbs attached to their feet. So when this HUGE motherfucker of a moth flew into the office, my first instinct was to run and grab it. You know, as you do. Anyway, it lands on my thumb, and OW. Something digs into my skin, and the little bastard won’t let go. Eventually, after almost smashing my hand off a table, it flies off, and spends the next hour or so on the floor, looking at me as if to say “Touch me again, and you know what you’ll get.” Eventually, it flew off after I attempted to bounce an inflatable stress-pig at it, and I haven’t seen it since.

It’s been lovely weather the past few days. It really does feel like we might actually have some kind of a summer this year. At least a summer where the sun is involved. and not days upon days of rain, rain rain.

It’s 8:45 AM, I’m sat in the front garden, sweating my tits off. Well, not literally, you understand. Just a figure of speech.. The England flags are still flying “proudly”, as England prepare for their defeat over…. um, somebody. Portugal, is it? Strangely, one of the houses on my journey home had a Portugese flag hanging from the window. I’m not sure if they’re just being ironic, or they actually DO come from Portugal. I suppose I’ll never fin d out, because if/when England lose today, their house will probably get firebombed.

I’ve been going through some old video tapes I had in my cupboard. Boy, how they’ve aged. The main one dates back to 1992, I’m in the back garden with the camera, along with Chad, William and Scott. It’s strange looking back at the naivety of it all. It was odd viewing the last few moments of my childhood in that way, because, naturally, my whole life exploded a few months later.

Moving on.

I can hear the Rag + bone man. That’s another entirely vivid memory of my childhood. I’ve not heard him for about 20 years.

The rag + bone man used to come around every few weeks when I was a kid, always on the morning. His distinctive cry of “Rag Boooone” used to wake me up as he shouted up the street. I could then hear him walking about, shouting it down the rest of the streets until either his voice faded away, or I went back to sleep. I can’t believe that it’s now 2006, and he’s still out and about. Especially on a Saturday morning

I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s still the same guy. The pitch and length of the “call” is still the same as I remember. How odd.

The postie’s just waked up the path, and had to squeeze past me, The Neighbours from no. 8 are talking to the guy from Number 4. Apparently, there’s a fun day at the quay, with paddle steamers and… er, some music. Of some kind. Of course, this gives me recollections of the Tall Ships thing that was around last year. They had a music stage. It was diabolical. Me and Chris went. I’m sure if you’re a regular viewer, you’ll remember the pictures in the Tall Ships gallery, with both of the crowd members listening intently to what sounded like a box of spanners hurtling down a metal fire escape, alongside a jar of loose change being poured down a grate, with just a hint of balloons being let down slowly playing softly in the background.

James’s cat has just ran underneath me. The big black one. That cat doesn’t like me as much as his black and white one.

Anyway, I have a feeling this plastic chair wasn’t designed to take the weight of a fat bastard with a laptop, so before I go hurtling to the ground, I’m going to post this and maybe get a beer or seven. *slurp*.

Just to help me sleep, you understand. Ahem.

Technorati Tags: beer, cat, garden, moth, rag and bone man, sunbathing, work