Saturday, May 01, 2004

It’s my birthday, no-one here day, very strange day, I think of you day. Go outside day, sit in park day, watch the sky day.

After an almost Pardoe-like month of inactivity I'm back. Like SARS but drunker.

This past month has seen me reach my quarter-century, in typical self-destructive style. The day itself was not memorable, as I was at work, it being a Tuesday. I had three Stellas at lunchtime down the Plodge, and set myself up for a right old sesh later that night. I got to the Crown half-hour before anyone else, and utilised that bonus time to my advantage. Here are my recollections:

Beer,The Crown Inn
packet of crisps,
smoked fag,
ha ha ha,
football talk,
laugh at Fella,
bad joke,
plans we'll never ever action,
take over the pub stereo,
took piss out of landlord and passing chav-vehicle,
gap in memory,
gin (necked at pace),
get into Brileighs,
Rock night,
air guitar,
fag,Luverly Antipodean beaut will not be in Oakengates tonight
hair shaking,
The Cult - 'She Sells Sanctuary',
Bacon falling off chair,
nope can't remember,
outside (somehow),
lying on ground,
running and jumping,
not sure,
stole Holly Valance reverse charges posters out of every phone box in Oakengates,
home (again somehow),
punched hanging basket,
hurt hand,

Good night I think. That wasn't the end of the liver bashing that week. Oh no. Because Friday in typically Merkist fashion he had his birthday on the Friday. This followed a similar pattern as Tuesday, except with less Rock night, theft and lying in the road but more people and cakes!

This last month I've been to see Telford United quite a few times as the end looks more likely. The last match of the season was a great atmosphere, the away fans came up from Farnborough in ponchos, big fuck-off Mexican hats and fake 'taches. The home fans had an emotional pitch invasion after the match, as even if the clubs does survive it's unlikely that any of the current players will be there next season. Indeed the popular manager, who was working for free has since been laid off. Think of Chelsea, then invert it!

I am now the proud owner of a bank account. This may seem like a simple possession, almost a pre-requisite of modern life (is rubbish), but I've not had one since the heady days of 2000. I christianed it by hammering eBay. Oh, and I've also given my details to a friendly Nigerian who emailed me with promise of a cut of oil money stored in a Cape Town bank account. Bingo!

Also in my grubby little hands is a digital camera. So expect some faux-arty pictures of pegs, chavs, trees and my toilet findings.

And if that's not enough, I now have a rather natty haircut. The days of Stavros - Half man half haircut are no more.

I'm currently listening to Super Furry Animals' Out Spaced album, one of my eBay purchases. I'm doing this while shouting at the telly, as after the last three England v West Indies matches were abondanded because of rain, now they finally get playing... and Sky lose the pictures. Amatuers.

That's all for now, I think I'm going to eat some Weetabix.

For now,