Saturday (I don't want to blog about politics) night

I don't really want to blog about owt with this hangover. I made the fatal mistake of going out straight from work and not eating any more than brownish banana that I found in my desk draw.

I also made the mistake of supping the cask ales all night. I'm getting a bit too old for this. When you get older you can still drink the same, it's just the hangovers that get worse. Ones like this last for two days.

I didn't imagine a heavy sessions as I was out with the 'sensible' client managers. On the train home, one of the women was doing what can only be described as the New Zealand All Blacks opening war dance. I have no idea why.

I'm off work for a week now so I spent most of today in bed and it wasn't so much of a waste as I've got eight more to go. It's amazing the things you can find to do around the bed while the Mrs is out all day getting her hair done.

We're having another session tonight. Someone at works Mrs is having a birthday party. I've got a case of Stellas to flatten that were given to me as a little kickback from a transport company. I don't normally drink lager so I'm trying a couple as I write this. They're minging but they're still booze and free booze is even better. We're only staying at the party for a couple of hours. Mrs Bucko is driving and well, it's in Burnley and we don't want to get napped off immigration.

Tomorrow I'm off to watch Mrs Bucko play pool. She plays for a Lancashire ladies team and apparently the venue they're playing at tomorrow is a really seedy pool hall. It's dark and dingy and there's a hundred year old black man who sits in the corner and says, "Got poond, got poond?" a lot.

After that it's hard graft on the kitchen for the rest of the week. I want to have it finished before we go back to work.

We are going to Tatton Park one day this week though. I've wanted to go for years. Mrs Bucko reckons we've already been but I don't remember it. I love the old stately homes, it's like being inside a Jane Austen novel. I really could live in one of those huge old houses with many servants and horses, living off the toil of the peasant farmers. I think I was born in the wrong time.

Check out the 'Gun Myths' post appearing here tomorrow. It's written by Graham Showell of the Arm Britain website. If anyone out there believes that gun control is a good thing, this article may change your mind as it rubbishes all the reasons commonly used in favour of disarming the population. Well worth a read.

And BRICKBAT my owd china, if your reading, check this out:

Happy Saturday all.


English Viking said...