I knew we wouldn't win...

Hello readers and welcome to this weeks blog.

Well, I will get the ranting over and done with before I blog properly... And if you read the title i'm sure you all know what I'm going to go on about...

English Sportsmen, that's what! I assume most of you watched the Rugby? OK, we did really well to get to final, and that disallowed try didn't help, but really? South Africa? We should have been on better form, and shown a little flair. Mind you, it's not like rugby players are like footballers... Pansies! ("Ooh ref' he looked at me in a funny way and thats not allowed, let me have a free kick... What if I roll around clutching my shin? would that help?")

British sportsmen seem to cling to the old saying of "It's not the winning, it's the taking part that counts"

WELL NO IT BLOODY WELL ISN'T!!! IT'S ABOUT NATIONAL PRIDE AND KICKING SOME INTERNATIONAL ARSE!!!

Seriously, I hope Hamilton wins the F1 chapionship. Otherwise British sport will truly be dead in my eyes... I mean can't we win just one little thing? Can't we be better at something than somebody else for a change?

Anyway... Now that I have vented my frustration I will start his blog.

Monday. Monday heralded the start of the last week before half-term. It was also the day my car had to go in for it's MOT... And guess what! Yep, failed! Brakes mainly (scary, isn't it?) along with my cracked rear light (even though the light works.)

In the evening, therefore, Adam, along with Jo came over to Wythall and we went to the Packhorse.

Tuesday at work was a bit dull, but went fairly quickly. The evening was spent playing Halo. It was suggested that everyone go bowling, but no one wanted to. Still, pretending to run round shooting things is better than knocking down a few old skittles, anyway.

Wednesday was a good day at work. Everyone was counting dowen to Friday. In the evening, me and father went over to do a bit of PC repair work (I mentioned it in my last post) over in Litchfield. The problem wasn't a tricky one, but I will need to go back and alter a few things to make a webcam work properly, instead of crashing the PC every time it wants to load in MSN. While i was there I became aware of a gritty feeling in my throat. You know the feeling, it feels like you have sand stuck in your voicebox, usually before you get a raging sore throat...

On Thursday I awoke with a raging sore throat, stuffy head, watery eyes, a stiff neck, and a snotty nose... Lovely. I phoned in sick, doped myself up on Lockets, Cough medicine, Paracetamol and, very nearly, the cats worming tablets (well they look like dequacain tablets and they were in the cupboard!) though I stopped myself just in time after reading the back of the packet. I then went back to bed to sleep it off. I awoke at about 2:30pm feling marginally better. I made myself a hot cup of coffee and necked it (assuming that it was possible to"burn the illness out of my throat" Strangely, after a second or two of pain it helped... I'm not sure why but if you ever have a sore throat, try hot coffee... REALLY hot coffee)

I then went back to bed for an hour. When i got up I was surprised to find that the symptoms had subsided a fair bit. Would I be well enough to go out later? Well as it turns out, no not really, but I had arranged to meet up with Kate from college, who I haven't seen in a fair while. So I mustered my strength, had another hot drink, and got a lift to The Plough. I was there a bit before kate so I sat by the bar. She arrived about 10 minutes after me and we sat and had a drink before getting a table in the restaurant section for a bite to eat. I decided to try something that I had never tried before... Venison. It was really good, and I had cheesecake for afters. After a natter and another drink we decided to call it a night. I got a lift back to Wythall, and Kate went home, though I will be seeing her again in a couple of weeks because we're going to see The Foo Fighters at the NEC!

Right... Friday. The last day of term. It should have been a good day, but being off the day before, I had missed some of the drama. I wont go in to it, but a member of staff who was leaving, who was one of my friends, I might add, didn't get chance to say goodbye to anyone because of a stupid decision on behalf of the powers that be...

It's a long story, and one that I'm sure isn't suited to be posted on my little bit of the internet.

Anyway. At 3:00pm the bell went and the kiddies went. The staff followed half an hour later. I went home and after a couple of hours of TopGear started getting ready for a night out. Me, Adam, Jenny, Marcus, and two of Jenny's (quite good looking!) friends were going for a drink in Solihull. I got a lift in and met up with everyone in The Coach House. After a while Bobby joined us and I started queuing at the bar... After a good 20 minutes, I had been served and could get on with the business of actually socialising with people. After a few drinks we decided to move on to The Hogs Head for a quick drink. After The Hogs Head it was decided that we would go on to Reflex! Somehow me and Adam ended up carrying Jenny's friends (Ellie and Corinne) up the high street, in a sort of unofficial race! (god help us if one of us had fallen over!) Anyway we got in to Reflex, but ellie was stopped because apparently she was "too drunk" to go in! I have never heard such twaddle from doormen (although granted she was 3 parts gone, but so were lots of people going in!) We ended up round the corner in The Saddlers Arms. It was packed to the rafters, but we found our spot and had a bit of a dance. Whilst in there I bumped (quite literally!) in to one of the skiing party. Larry (who is a bit of a Joker, and managable only in small doses) was in there so I said hello. He spent the first 5 minutes talking to me before saying "So... Tell me where I know you from" I just said "Skiing!" and then he started talking to me but calling me Adrian (my dads name, for those of you readers who wouldn't know) so I corrected him, he said "F**KIN' 'ELL! NICE TO SEE YA!" and walked off... Which was probably for the best, since he was rather inhebriated, and was walking sideways.

Anyway. After the merriment had been had, and the beer had been drunk. It was time to call it a night. I dived in to a taxi and set off, homeward bound.

I was awakenrd on Saturday morning by...

.. Hang on. Is that correct English? "I was awakened"

Screw it...

I got up Saturday earlier than planned because my nan, Grandad, and dog arrived. Mum had gone shopping so I was the only person in. Saturday was spent on Halo and, where needed, the PC. Literally that is all I did all day. I found a couple of free games on the 'net that are quite good at wasting time... They are silly, pointless, but strangely addictive...

There's Bloons where you have to pop as many balloons as possible (One for you, Donna?)

And there's Red where you use your turret to repel asteroids.

Give them a go!

Anyway that was saturday.

This morning I got up. Watched some telly, ate lunch... Roast chicken, very nice! and started Blogging.

... And that's the end of that chapter...

TTFN