Started off pretty grand, the sun was shining and there wasn't a homeless person in sight. Had a bit of a run-in with a local restauranteur as his board price differed to the bill for my steak...cheeky bugger was feeding me a load of old cobblers saying that the board price is just a 'proposition'...propositions are for window workers in Amsterdam. Prick ruined my day.
We went bowling as a family and a few of Welsh Girl and Jade's friends came along, and it wasn't like Bowlplex I tell ya, they even sold Duff beer too. Instead of playing as WILL2, I decided to play as RAYMOND...somehow things got muddled in the translation so I became BRAYMOND, we also had PETHANY and JELLEAN playing too!
Dyslexia or not...the guy at the bowling alley was still a cunt.
Pretty fuckin' cool eh.
Needless to say I won the first game, fucking dominated with the Mack Daddy strikes, then in the second game the Duff's got to me and I was shite, I mean Emile Heskey shite. Jen won the second game...she got 3 strikes in a row. I was proud.
We went out to a place called 'SoftBar' sounds like a place where the Gary Glitter Fan Club hang out, but really it's like a homely version of Sobar. Ended up doing the standard late-night kebab jobbie whilst Barbie was getting chatted up by the mush cutting up my packwrap. Played a game of 'Shag, Marry, Kill' when we got back and I was getting too philosophical in my answers, preferring to kill a renowned local feminist out of principal then having to bite the bullet and marry a ginger. swings and roundabouts i suppose.
McStay mastering the art of putting duvet cover into said duvet.
So Jade tells us there's this lake with sand nearby and that we should check it out. An hour of walking and we've still not arrived...never been a fan of relying on a woman's directions but hairy muff there wasn't any whining about it.
We meet all the gang down there, we just sat down, got a grassy arse and watched kiddies brutally hack off the head of a dead fish, tryna give it the Marie Antoifuckinette treatment. There was an audience, it was like a Roman ampitheatre but instead of Russell Crowe it was a gang of 6 year olds playing pinata with the fish by beating the fuck out of it with a stick, they were proud 6 year olds too. I asked one of the youngsters if he wanted to come to my car with me cus I had sweets for him, oh wait that was another time, but anyway they let me take a photo of the carcasses they had created, funny how when the jerries come over the border they'll surrender but they'll show no mercy to a poxy dead fish.
It's a hard fuckin' life, I bet he had kids an' all.
Will and Jen got into that typical everyday sibling argument as to whether a car can pass its MOT with a speedometer that doesn't work, I decided it cus I've got a mate that drives without one and he's just fine. Then we went and got drunk a bit, saw the girls get into a pushing and elbowing match with some eyeties, they were pretty feckin' monging aswell wouldn't touch 'em with a barge pole, all for the minibus queue to a club we didn't go to. Went to another club, it was alright. Bare no dwarfs was the cry when Verne Troyer's bitch passed us by.
All in all a pretty tidy weekend I spose, always good to be back with the gang, they'll be in Reims in 2 weeks so I'll hit you up with another tale then...if not, then just wait longer.
Hearing murmurs there's the odd Claude, Pierre and Mathieu reading this that aren't keen on the way I talk about France/Frogs/Quality of Cheese on this here blog. Well, no-one's perfect, especially France, deal with it. Peace out bitches.
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