Limping Dog?

Wake up with a stonking headache but I still enjoy the mornings provocative body lotion session, compulsive viewing. My headache helps with my self-discipline though and I don't have to have my morning shower quite as cold than usual.

I take the bus into work but have to select some gentle music on my Ipod due to the headache. Journey is ok, apart from the usual annoying passengers.

My walk from getting off the bus in Derby to Pride Park has now got longer as they've removed the road crossing and the footpath from outside the bus station. This is because half the recreation ground is disappearing under pointless tarmac. It seems all the protesters that occupied the trees there a few years have failed. Where are they all now?

Doggo's limp doesn't seem too bad today but I'm still considering taking him to the vet or is just that I want to get back at him for biting me. Typing is quite hard thanks to Doggo's nip on my finger. We'd need to muzzle first though, although I think the vets lend them out.

I'm hoping his limp could explain his weaving problem. If he's unsure on one foot it could be making him hesitant on his weave entry. We wonder whether he's got one of his infamous ticks between his toes, mind you it would have to be a big one to cause him to limp. Maybe he's just sprained a toe or something, although if he has it didn't stop him digging the carpet up last night and it was definitely his right paw he was using.

L says to hold off on the vets because she's going to butter him up with some posh ham tonight, so that she can try and have a better look at it. If he gets the scent of posh ham, it will just make him limp more.

Despite spending half of our lunch hour in the car last week we decided to brave the drive to the pub. We take the long way round. It still takes us fifteen minutes but even that is quicker than last week. Steak and Guinness pie and Jennings Mountain Man 4.3%, specially brewed to celebrate the anniversary of George Fisher's shop in Keswick.

Get the bus home and while standing at the bus stop I have a laugh at the people running for their buses in their low-slung jeans. It can be a harrowing experience. Watching the men, the fat women or anyone in a g-string is no fun. Luckily tonight we get a good one; a young girl's jeans are almost down to her thighs as runs for the Rainbow 5, giving every one a good flash of her arse and her lacy black briefs.

Get home and feel quite ill now. Perk myself up with Ibuprofen. L bans me playing football with Doggo because of his dodgy paw but eventually I give into his nagging and give him a short session.

Just about feel well enough for Squash. My opponent tells me he's actually been training. Well, he's been doing 3K treadmill sessions but now he's complaining that his Achilles is sore. I congratulate him, now that he's had an Achilles injury he can call himself a true runner. Which I'm sure is the recognition that he's always wanted.

When we start to play, it takes me a while to get going but eventually I get into the swing of things. I win the third and fifth games, which I'm quite pleased with considering the state of my health. Opponent gets rather upset and fires the ball at me, when I hit him in the back with the ball on a key point and claim a let, not about the bruise he'll have tomorrow but because he was in a good position to win the point. Then when he loses the point to go 14-12 down he hurls his racquet against the wall. It's getting dangerous on court but I still take the next point to win the game.

Two pints of Church End Beer 3.7%. Very low alcohol.

Get home and L is servicing ice coffee, which is actually very nice. I follow it by taking the remains of the Christmas Advocaat to bed. Then I round an exhausting day off in style by having my way with L. I'm not sure if she was offering sex or not but she didn't seem to mind.