That's Asda Price

Took the bus today and because I didn't pay any attention to what she looked like, that's how annoying she was, I made the mistake of sitting too close to mobile phone girl again. I'm actually three rows away but its close enough. No call to any errant boyfriends today but she still makes two calls. The second of which starts in Bramcote and it still going strong as she gets off the bus in Derby.

"Just getting off the bus, see you at work in two minutes"

Oh for Gods sake and she's still talking. Perhaps they still communicate by phone when they're sat next to each other at work.

The journey took ages; all the roads around Derby were gridlocked with everybody driving to Pride Park to get their Wembley tickets.

Get to work and I speak to my Dad on the phone, who says there's a two-hour wait for tickets. I had been planning to nip down in my lunch hour, I can see it's going to be a rather slow nip. So I bite the bullet and pay the £3 per ticket booking fee to buy them off Seetickets, then of course there's the £4.85 postage charge as well.

None of the tickets look particularly good seats; this is probably because the FA has sold 17,000 season tickets for Wembley. These are probably all the best seats and they'll probably be empty for the playoffs because most of them have been bought purely to see England’s games.

Historic occasion today. The 5.35 Red Arrow was early and for once it actually waited until its allotted time before setting off. It was quite funny seeing people spot the Red Arrow at its stop and immediately start legging it towards the bus, naturally expecting it to pull off at any second. Then when they are inches from getting on, the look of surprise when the door doesn't shut in their faces. One by one they clambered on red faced and breathless.

Get off the bus and walk the rest of the way home. I decide that I've got enough time to give Doggo a session on the park before squash. I've been neglecting our football games on the park with all this training I've been doing. However I get immediately distracted when I get in as L lays herself out on the bed, sporting her sexy new Asda top. Looking good enough to... well... be thoroughly taken advantage of. That's Asda Price da da da, as they used to say.

This morning L implied that I might be on a promise but I wasn't expecting it this early, or on a plate. I have to make my apologies to Doggo. Tomorrow mate; we go on the park with the football. Promise. Definitely. Unless something else comes up.

My squash opponent hasn't managed to think of any winners in the battle of excuses, so we have to fight for points on court instead. Claims he has picked up a slight injury though. His partner knelt on his toes this morning. I'm struggling to think of many ways you can get such an injury because I didn't think he was still up to behaviour like that. Claims he's got a stiff neck as well.

In the match he played badly but I was appalling. Won one game, the fourth, lost the rest.

Drove to the pub and somehow missed L and Doggo who were walking across to meet us. She didn't seem too miffed when they finally arrived.

Full Mash Spiritualist 4.3% in the pub (one and a half of) and half a Mordue Newcastle Coffee Stout 4.7%.

Got home and curry Daughter's chicken in pesto but over did it with the chilli. I'll regret that in the morning.