Money for old rope

Thanks to your collective failure to purchase things from me, I've been forced to go to eBay, where I shall probably be fleeced for all that I have. You bastards.


In other news, it appears that there was no gossip from my Christmas party. I got drunk, but not dangerously so. I haven't been sacked. There was the rumour of the police being called, but I was long gone ('you can pin this one on me, pig') and I think it was just a lie to arouse interest.


Now I'm off to prepare for the World Cup draw, which will undoubtedly be more interesting than 75% of the games in the competition. Not that that will stop me watching them.

Ciao.

Best, boxed and buried

So I awake with a hangover, and what am I confronted with on BBC1 and Radio 5? Full commentary of a funeral. The queen? No. The Archbishop of Canterbury? No. A bloated, liver-wasting, wife-beating alcoholic who once kicked a football better than most other people. For fucks sake. They actually had someone on the radio describing 'children being hoisted onto their father's shoulders to view the cortege as it passes.'
As if this is news. The bastard died over a week ago. He had been dying for years beforehand, and would have gone sooner if some bright spark in the health service hadn't thought he was a suitable candidate for someone's liver. Would he have met the criteria if he was a tramp with the same drink problem? I sincerely doubted.
And now we all have to put up with the tedious rose-tinted agenda of those who sell us the news (i.e. a bunch of middle-aged men desperate to relive their youth). [Oops, that sentence was a bit Dave Spart.] I hope to God this will be the last of it (well, it's the last of him, but I'm sure the media can drag this tedium out for lonnger).
Juicy gossip later. (Actually not, but that would hardly engender continued readership, would it folks.)

P45

It's Christmas party night tomorrow. I've been there less than five months. Free booze and minimal food, plus a disco, until midnight.

I must remember not to embarrass myself. Story to follow once the hangover has subsided...