I'm just getting up after an action packed lie-in when the phone goes and I receive another cancellation concerning tonight's 'old school pals' night out. It seemed a good idea at the time and something everybody wanted to do but when it comes down to it they can't be bothered. Oh well.
I take Doggo for a good kicking on the park and then I head over to Derby for the latest slaughter to be inflicted on the Rams. Only 1-0 this time and to a wonder goal but it was another 'must win' game that we never looked like winning. It was, I must admit, a better performance but the probability of scoring a goal always looked very remote.
L's been at Beauty and The Beast, a foreign version, that apparently was a real hoot and would have been well worth blogging, had I been there. Daughter was there, embarrassing L, with two of her mates who are sleeping over. I escape to my reunion. On the way out Daughter advises that I fabricate a fabulous past to vow them with. I might have to, no one will believe the reality.
The night goes well, there are only five of us but it is still a good night. The Old Cottage beer is good. I was right. No one believes I'm stupid enough to cycle to work, do triathlons and spend all day doing nothing at dog shows. Perhaps I should have took Daughters advice and told them I was a brain surgeon or something.