| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) 20:29 - Mar 10 with 1094 views | Warkystache |
Two for the price of one today. Sorry I missed last week. Combination of too much drink, savage Sunday hangover (like I'd eaten the sadly missed Keith Flint and he was partying in my guts) and the ennui which follows a decent bout of toilet-based activity. And we lost to Reading, so that's officially IT. Prepare the motor for those trips to Bradford and Carlisle. Get the Little Chef map book out.
Tel's in Spain, of course. He flies home on Thursday, at 9pm. They're getting a cab. I've had six tweets and twelve texts and a incompetent skype (the top of his head for thirty seconds while he said "Can't find 'ow ter git this fing ter record" hopefully to Mrs Tel as it was in their hotel bedroom. Then he grinned and said "Hiya, make it quick 'cos we're booked in at the local restaurant at seven" and he then gave me his football predictions). The weather's been 'fine, not too 'ot like' and the food's been mainly steaks, fish and some sort of saffron stew he's quite liked.
He's doing his Cheltenham bets on his phone so the texts have been mainly about checking stuff hasn't gone to pot here and that the two girls in the shop are coping. They haven't and they are, I replied. "Wot one wiv wot?" he sent back, but I pretended I didn't receive that one.
Reading was a drunken semi-dream, based on an early start in the Cricketers and a finish in the Three Wise Monkeys, with a bold mixture of alcoholic drink and a good friendly punch in the guts from Benters, who was hanging around outside TWM looking like a well-dressed panhandler. I nearly lobbed him 20p, before my pissed eyes clocked him. As Springsteen wrote, we went back inside and had a few drinks and all he kept talking about was glory days. It set the tone for what was to come. I was convinced we'd beat Reading before; now my hopes rescinded like an old girl's shrivelled right tit. I'd never been to the same game with Benters that we'd bloody won. It was always either the scum home game or someone decent we'd been done by.
Anyway, we lost, surprise, and played badly and I was drunker than Peter O'Toole on a closing night and swayed where I stood and left just after Mo Barrow scored the winner and had to go for a massive jimmy in the bogs on my way and the goal kept replaying in my head.
The rest of the week was tame without Tel. We'd won £289 on the footy bets, but he was out when I texted him and didn't reply until Tuesday evening. "Brill" he wrote. I'm not sure if that was a comment on the bet or what he was having for dinner. He watched the Spurs and Man U Champions League games in some bar in Marbella, surrounded by ex-pat Brits who all looked like one of the Krays, the Spanish barman looking like Manuel from Fawlty Towers. He sent me a photo text of two blonde women smiling and holding day-glo drinks somewhere dark. "Justin and Leeanne from Manhcester". 'Justin?' I thought. 'Bloody hell, that's some sex change op'.
Mickey's lost a set of keys for the back room and back door. She's bricking it, according to Kaylee, who seems to be rather enjoying her friend's discomfort. I helped look for them last Wednesday, but it was like looking for a golden straw in a haystack. They'd managed to do the deadlock on the back door so nothing can get in. After a fruitless ten minutes, I asked where she kept them. "In me 'andbag" she replied plaintively, "but ah've gone frew that an' they aint there". I suggested she turn her handbag out on the counter and she did. Used bus tickets, lipsticks and something plastic that looked suspiciously dildo-ish rattled out. There, laying amongst the detritus was a set of keys with a blue tag marked "Back Door" in red felt-tip. "Yev farnd 'em" she nearly blubbed and gave me a heartfelt hug which pressed her voluminous breasts to mine and left me smelling of Elnett and cheap fag smoke. Panic averted.
I went out yesterday, for a walk, on my own as the girlfriend was working. I took a camera in my backpack and photographed buzzards wheeling and Constable skies. I sat in a country pub, supping beer and watching Soccer Saturday, seeing Alan McInally give Jon Nolan his dues for our equaliser. It's not enough, of course. It's never enough. I'm looking forward to trips to Southend and Lincoln and Peterborough though. Should make a refreshing change to be a big fish in a smaller pond again. Or, if we don't get the personnel right, a smaller fish in a smaller pond where everyone else is a potential pike.
Back home on Thursday. Can't wait for the normality again...... |  |
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| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 21:57 - Mar 10 with 987 views | J2BLUE |
I've missed these. I'm going to have to search back for all the ones I haven't read.
Top stuff Warky. Congrats on the (new?) girlfriend! |  |
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| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 21:57 - Mar 10 with 986 views | BrixtonBlue |
I thought me and the missus might've got a mention  |  |
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| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 07:00 - Mar 11 with 874 views | Warkystache |
| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 21:57 - Mar 10 by BrixtonBlue |
I thought me and the missus might've got a mention |
Oh and congrats to Dolly who has a lovely new bird and was all 'Sting's tantric positions' with her at the Reading game.
Matey next to me spent more time looking at her arse than the pitch first half......... | |
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| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 07:11 - Mar 11 with 856 views | BanksterDebtSlave |
| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 07:00 - Mar 11 by Warkystache |
Oh and congrats to Dolly who has a lovely new bird and was all 'Sting's tantric positions' with her at the Reading game.
Matey next to me spent more time looking at her arse than the pitch first half......... |
......naughty Luke! |  |
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| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 10:16 - Mar 11 with 784 views | BrixtonBlue |
| The Warky Report: Reading (h), West Brom (a) on 07:00 - Mar 11 by Warkystache |
Oh and congrats to Dolly who has a lovely new bird and was all 'Sting's tantric positions' with her at the Reading game.
Matey next to me spent more time looking at her arse than the pitch first half......... |
Ha.
The Dolly's Bird's report: Ipswich are a bit sh!t.
I was hoping she'd either bring lady luck or the luck of the Irish but sadly neither transpired. | |
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