Shattered....



Thursday Night:



Course day one complete, good interesting course, lovely hotel, great food and plenty of it. Downside....nothing! The Company put a free bar up for us - it was a very funny and enjoyable evening - I think the final bar bill was circa £1400, which is most defintely a "quality effort". Jack;s "faux pas" though was to assume one of the guys who had rung home and got some earache from his partner was ringing a girl. Unfortunately after stringing me along for a while whilst I told him my years of experience in how to treat women, especially when you're away on a residential course with a free bar, he then decided,much to everyones amusement to let me know that "he wasn't on the same bus as me". Glad I could amuse everyone with that little faux pas, especially as apparently he had made it fairly plain in comments at the table that he was gay. Sometimes I amaze myself in my ability to completely miss peoples signposts!



Friday Day: Plenty of hangovers, I survived by ensuring I drunk only top notch red wine, and plenty of Beamish (the not quite as good as Guinness drink). We then were expected to break bits of wood with our bare hands as a sign we had absorbed the course contents about our belief in ourselves. 6 people were in front of me, guess who fucked his first attempt. Yep, me, what a dick! In my defence all I can say was that an inappropriate thought invaded my mind at the moment before I struck it. You see, this happens to men, straight or gay. We think about sex every 20 seconds or so, and what can we do about it.....fuck all! We have hundreds of thousands of years of evolution programmed into us. It's a primeval urge, and we're powerless to stop it. When a man goes blank,or looks at another woman walking down the street it's usually because he's thinking about screwing someone! No-one laughed out, but I knew inside they were.I got it second time though that was down to being so fucking angry that I had been first to fuck up. I'm glad my incapability gave everyone a laugh.



Friday Night: Pub, Guinness, argument with Mr Chelsea about Chelsea. No-one agreed with me that Fuckwit had to go. The Governor came over for a chat, put his glass of scotch on the counter, and it went to fall over. I leapt forward to prevent it doing so. Gales of laughter as everyone burst out. The glass was a trick glass with a curved bottom. I'm glad I amused everyone again with my stupidity. There was a drop dead gorgeous woman at the bar, so perhaps my mind had wandered again (no perhaps about it really!)



Saturday Day: The Cup Final, more Guinness, shit game, BigSykes and LittleSis stayed over. Thats' 3 nights of drinking and I feel awful. I am old. I am a third division drinker. I cannot do it anymore. Teenager was obnoxious,stroppy and ignored all of our time directives (be back by 7:30, ring us when you get to Sulkies, let us know what time your coming back tomorrow - all ignored), although Mini-Me and his mate Minimum were so incredibly polite I might ask his parents if they want to swap him for a daughter.



Sunday: Golf with Medallion Man. He played well, I played shit for the front nine, but good on the back nine. Encouraging. By the time I got home I was unable to move because every joint seemed to lock up.



This is a big week. My company car goes back this week because I don't need it anymore and the Meriva comes on Friday. A new toy to play with. GMD (see the cast!) is off to Sunny Tropical Island on Friday with Teenager and Baby, plus The Majors wife and kids, along with The Kings Wife and kids. Alone, for a whole week, and off from work whilst they're away. Bliss.



Later, Grocerjack