Today is my last day of work this week, it is effectively a Friday for me. I have also opted for a Summer Working Hour today, which means I can go home at 4.30pm, rather than the usual allotted departure time of 5.30pm. Thirdly I have taken the liberty of booking Monday off work, making the upcoming weekend rather sumptuous.

So, tomorrow I will be off to the Oaks, going to start off the day with a delicious fry up. The knotweed at the bottom of the garden will then be given its daily dosage of weed killer. Then I'll be off with via train to the Epsom races, with my chair in a bag and an additional satchel containing 16 cans of Orangeboom. The bag must be sturdy as last year my bag's handles broke and I ended up having to cradle it in my arms to the top of the hill... not ideal I'm sure you'll agree.

I am also toying with the idea of taking my DAB Pure One with me, so I can listen to Gaunty whilst sitting in my chair and betting at the downs. The problem is I do not, under any circumstances, want to loose the radio; so I am still undecided. I suspect I will leave it at home as all in all we're talking £70 worth of kit here. We'll see how I feel tomorrow, but I will certainly be writing on here regarding my decision pertaining to the radio.

Saturday is also a day for the races I'll be off on the trains again with Ben Philips, except this time we will joined by Ben Kupper, Viola and Tash. It is a tradition to attend the Derby that is probably better than Christmas. My brother also goes, but he and his pals usually get suited up and go into The Queen's Stand. I like to go to pikey hill and mix it with the social under classes. It's also good to go to the fair afterwards and munch on some candy floss, it's quite a nice thing to do actually. Last year I lost my sunglasses, I must not repeat this misdemeanor.

On Saturday evening I'll be hosting a BBQ, I'm actually a very good host although Tash normally takes umbrage at this claim. Last year when I got back they hadn't even got the BBQ going; being the great host I am I had it going in a jiffy. I also entertained the guests by demonstrating Greek plate smashing by throwing plates into the car park next door. It's a nice thing to do, although I don't remember doing this. There was also a guest who had to be dragged away from the BBQ by his other half as he didn't want to leave.

On Sunday I plan on relaxing and recovering with aplomb and on Monday I'm going to watch all the Indiana Jones films in a row, culminating in a trip to the cinema to see the current offering.

If it all goes to plan it's going to be cracking, see you later.

Yesterday I went to the supermarket with Tash. She was taking a while on this buy two items for a reduced price deal, as she'd selected one item but couldn't decide on a second. As we stood there, side to side, I put my arm around her and said "look at this lovely view". We were just standing in front of a refridgeration display in Morrisons, that is all.

I have been administering weed killer in a very persistent manner this weekend. As soon as it stopped raining I was out there in the garden spraying the troublesome little blighters, I was sure to ensure a nice even coverage all over the leaves; as this is where the poison is absorbed into the plant. It is then administered throughout the nasty weed and it dies, I like this part the best.

About a month ago I got this weed killer in a spray gun atomizer, it was called "Glyphosate Kills Weeds & Roots". I sprayed it all over these ugly little weeds that had taken over the patio directly outside the sliding door. Fast forward to the present day and all of these bothersome weeds are dead and have been removed, leaving me with a weed free patio. It is for this reason that I decided to repeat buy this weed killer product.

I have used the entire litre of this second purchase of glyphosate down at the bottom of the garden (down with the birds and the bees) on a mass of Japanese knotweed and brambles that have congregated over the fence and are now threatening and advance into my territory. In fact, some branches have already encroached into my area... unacceptable. Please see below picture of the affected area:

I have been doing some research into this knotweed and have discovered it to be quite an evil weed. There are forums aplenty detailing various horror stories, fuelled mainly by a universal hatred of the weed. This one particular comment amused me: "I've adopted a local patch of Japanese Knotweed up the road from me to trample on whenever I'm passing." It seems that the weed is highly invasive an exceedingly tough to get rid of.

I also found out that it is illegal, as of 1981, to plant or cause this weed to grow in the wild and because of the weed's vigorous peskiness, and ability to regrow, it is regarded as controlled waste and has to be disposed of at licensed sites, or burnt up a treat. Well, as you can well imagine, I have been very disappointed to discover this crap growing so close to home.

In addition to my negative findings about the weed I personally find the stalks of this knotweed to be quite alien and hideous to look at; so it has become a major priority of mine to at least get it away from my fence. Just look and see how close the stalks of disgustingness are when I look over my fence:

It is for this reason that I have severed one of the stalks and have been filling it up with weed killer every day, a nice healthy drink for the beast:

Now, having inspected the leaves of the cuss I have found they are turning yellow where I have been spraying it. This has spurred me on in bounds. To demonstrate how much so I have unleashed hell on the weeds I will tell you this. On Saturday when I got home from the pub I went out into the garden and dished out a lovely little nighttime snack for the weeds, a snack of poisonous glyphosate that is.

I will not rest until the sods have been eradicated and I will be relentless in degenerating them to nothing. I actually enjoy doing it, so they may as well give up now- if only they knew. Only yesterday I went to the shop and got myself a nice new bottle of TumbleWeed ready to use, great stuff.

I went to a wedding the other day, it was in the North Wales. We set off on the Friday after work and didn't arrive at the destination, a placed called Conwy, until 12.30am. We stayed at Tash's friends place during the night and the next day we drove down the road to attend the wedding.

Now, as I was getting changed into my suit for the wedding I discovered that I had made a bit of an error. What I had done was forget to pack any socks, so I spent the day wearing no socks. It's a strange feeling to wear a suit and shoes without any socks. Later on during the reception after I'd had a few drinks I started explaining to strangers what had happened to me and then showing them my ankles. It is that simple.

I washed my hair this morning, but prior to this morning I had neglected to wash my hair for three days.

When I go on holiday, one of those where you're near the beach and you go in the sea everyday, I also neglect to wash my hair on the whole. The reason for this is because I love the feeling of dried salt in my hair. Now, recently I purchased some sea salt and minerals bath supplement which I have been soaking in during the evening before bed. Whilst in the bath I literally just allow myself to marinate in the water, and for the past few days I didn't wash my hair as I wanted to try and recreate the feeling of salty hair that I achieve during beach holidays.

My tactic of soaking in this saline composite worked just as I had desired and I did feel like I had been in the sea. My hair was fused with salt, and it felt good.

However, last night I didn't have a bath. This was because I didn't do any exercise last night and thus my need for a bath was minimal. Therefore when I got up this morning I needed to have a shower so that I would be nice and fresh for work. The reason I couldn't soak in salt laden H2O was because I got up at 8.30am and so time was very much against me. I have now guaranteed myself that I'll take this as a temporary reset to my salt encrusted hair goal. Tonight I will be having a deep saline bath whilst listening to chill radio, reading Zone 22 and having a Kahlua with milk.

Now I would like to tell you all, just a little bit, about my current radio listening habits. Do not turn your back on this; you may discover in your TV hell that you have been missing out rather.

First up, a little bit of scientific analysis regarding all this. As some of you may be aware a certain James Whale got sacked by TalkSPORT a few weeks ago. Now, this was unprecedented and to make things worse they have replaced him with this bloke called Max Rushton who is rubbish. This has ruined my late night radio listening and I have been forced to turn to Clive Bull on LBC to seek sanctuary.

I'll tell you what though, James Whale's sacking could well have been a blessing in disguise because he now broadcasts on PlayUK Two on the internet, on Tuesday, and is also presenting on Bid TV from 4.30pm on Friday for 3 hours. Ha ha genius. The great thing is that I can download the podcast and listen to it at work, which on the balance of things is better for me than listening to the late night show.

The upshot is I have consequently discovered another show on PlayUK Two which is called "Not the Tommy Boyd Show", so I've been listening to the podcasts for that at work as well. The last of these podcasts actually featured Tommy Boyd himself, which was nice.

In addition to these shows I'm also listening to the Iain Lee podcast who is on Virgin on Sunday nights. I used to listen to his drive time show on the way home from work on LBC, which was thoroughly enjoyable but it was stopped. It just suddenly bloody stopped. Anyway just recently I discovered he was back on the airways and was overjoyed to see the podcast was available for download upon further inspection of the bare faced facts in clear daylight. This is another string to my bow of podcasts that I listen to at work.

I also listen, daily, to the mid morning current affairs show with Jon Gaunt. This is not a podcast, its broadcast on talkSPORT from 10am to 1pm and I find it most enjoyable. It is at 1pm that I make a choice. I either crack on with the podcasts or stick with Hawksbee & Jacobs on TalkSPORT, of late I have been turning to the podcasts for sanctuary in my afternoons but I am certainly not averse to a bit of H&J.

Even last night I had trouble getting off to sleep as I lay in bed listening to the radio. You see, it was just so bloody interesting I had to listen. Ian Collins was on and he was talking about sleeping patterns, one of my favorite topics.

I used to own a bike whilst living in a couple of my former abodes. This bike lasted for one house and one flat before I abandoned it round the back of the garages. Before we left the flat for good Nick's dad had a check round and found the bike. Clearly he was quite surprised that I should just dump a bike that looked perfectly fine. I said he could have it but did warn of the issues I had with the bike, namely that the gears and brakes were shot to pieces. Anyway, whilst living in 13 Lesbourne Road with this bike I did something rather silly.

What I did was take the bike in the living room and position it upright. I then lifted the back wheel off the floor and proceeded to turn the peddles with my hand, in order to see how fast I could make the wheel rotate. I wanted to zoom the wheel, whizz it if you will. Once going at a satisfactory pace I lowered the wheel back onto the floor. This caused a severe friction burn on the carpet and I was left standing there wondering why I had done this.

Due to the escalating price of petroleum gasoline, or Texas tea as I like to call it, I am considering purchasing a new bike. Presently I drive a very short distance to work and sometimes go back home at lunch and this is costing me somewhere in the region of £40 a month. Of course I do my little run abouts at the weekend, but to spend this amount of cold hard cash on le sauce for the conveyance sends me doolally.

Back to the carpets at 13 Lesbourne, the friction burn was not the only burn inflicted by myself. One day I decided to have some chicken nuggets, my method of cooking was to fry. When ready I took the frying pan off the hotplate and placed it down on the side board. I then got myself a plate and put this on the hotplate whilst I transferred the nuggets. Picking up the plate, I began carrying the nuggets through to the living room. I then had a sudden and very serious pain come searing down my fingers into my brain and my reaction was to throw the plate and run back into the kitchen. Immediately I ran the cold tap and placed my fingers under it.

When I returned to the plate I discovered that it had been so hot that it had melted itself to the floor. I had to literally peel it off the carpet. What happened was that a ring of plastic had melted into the carpet; the heat from the plate had caused a chemical reaction in the carpet and created plastic. Well, I can't tell you how annoyed I was.

Sheridans

Also whilst at Lezza Road I had a rather unpleasant incident with an Irish liquor called Sheridans. I had a Chinese take away on the night in question, and I had a bottle of this Sheridans stuff which I decided to have as well. This Sheridans had drawn my attention as it has two compartments, these mix together as you pour. This gimmick had drawn me in and I had to try it. Having drank the whole bottle on top of the Chinese I went to bed. In the middle of the night I woke up with the most excruciating stomach pain. I knew I had to go and try and use the toilet but the pain was so crippling that I had to crawl up the stairs to the bathroom. On my way back down the stairs the pain wasn't any better and any movement just made it worse, hence my crawling. I actually attempted to sleep on the stairs whilst curled up in a ball. In the morning the pain had gone but I felt jaded and I have never drunk Sheridans since.

Now, also whilst at 13 Lesbourne Road I melted a remote control. I had spilt a drink on it and in order to dry it out I put it in the oven and then forgot about it. When it was retrieved it was warped beyond recognition but it still worked, quite something.

Just a quick one, someone just asked me if I knew what a SSSA service agreement was. I said it was a Silly Snakes Service Agreement, you ring up for a service and a load of snakes come round.

Just went home for lunch, Tash was there with a package. This package contained some flip flops Tash has kindly purchased for me. I tried them on and they were okay, one of them was slightly frayed though at the bit which goes inbetween your big toe and the toe next to it. We debated whether to send them back or not, personally I think we should and that is what is going to happen.

However in the interim period we discussed whether I in fact liked them at all. I stick by my synopsis that they are just alright, but Tash kept probing. In the end, although I knew she wouldn't like it, I said I'd prefer a pair which supported my heels a bit better. I then told Tash to ring British Gas and pay the bill. Anyway the long and short of it is that I did get called an ungrateful git.

On Saturday we had a little trip down to the local shop. We cycled and I went on this rather awkward fold up bike Tash has, I can tell you now never to purchase a fold up bike, they are shit. So, we got to the shop and I got my stuff and went and waited outside by the bikes. I waited and waited, and eventually Tash emerged from the shop.

I then started complaining bitterly about the amount of time she's taken, as we cycled down Victoria Road. "Oh come on Steve, one of these days someone is going to tell you that you are a real bastard", that's what she said. I remarked that I didn't care if they did it wouldn’t change my opinion on the ridiculous amount of time she just spent in the local shop. She then said that I was a "barking bastard". So, now whenever I do anything that is wrong or could be construed as me being a little sod I can just say that I'm a barking bastard, so that's a good excuse.

I in fact used this excuse when Tash was watching the program "I'll do anything", which I hate. I just sat there making comments and saying the songs they were singing were awful. My main complaint was the gestures and expressions on the singer’s faces that were really "overstated", in my own words. Why does she have to have that look on her face? When Tash said she didn't do this to me when I was watching the cricket I just said "yeah, but I'm a barking bastard". I used this excuse during Eurovision as well when Tash spilt Coca Cola Zero all over the table and I said "what did you do that for, for God's sake".

Had it not been for the terrible weather yesterday I would have finished my patio, I curse the weather for this. I really would have dearly loved to get that finished this banker holiday but alas I was thwarted. You see, it wasn't just the weather there were some other things that interrupted my flow.

On Friday night I went to Brasserie Chez Gerard with Tash. She's been doing well at work and they decided to award her with a meal out for her and her partner, which would be me. I had a kia royale, fillet steak, a Belgium waffle, an Irish coffee and a Mai Tai cocktail. Tash consumed a similar meal, not bad for free. Saturday was a bit of a non event really, all that really happened was that I took Tash to go and get her car. We then watched the Eurovision Song Contest. An interesting watch, but ultimately absolute tripe. A couple of amusing acts just because they were so peculiar and the fun of watching the votes come in.

I also sat and watched a fair amount of bid TV, price-drop TV and speed-auction TV. I find them funny as the presenters have to talk non stop about a product they probably think is rubbish and be enthusiastic. I have concluded that their main products are pillows and watches. The best was when this bloke was trying to sell a tray that you put on your lap with a pen holder, cup holder and a little light on it. This thing was pure tat, but he was really getting into it. Oh yeah, I can just imagine reading a book on this, and you've got your pen holder here (he strokes the pen holder). Really funny.

Sunday was alright, managed to do all but four of the square slabs on the patio and we went to Homebase. I bought something I've always quite fancied, a chair in a bag. I have so far sat in it twice. I just like putting it in the bag, slinging it round my arm and then parading round the garden. We also got some sun loungers and I got some nails and weedkiller. I have used the nails to smack into the shed and hang spades from. That's what I done.

On Monday, since it was raining and there wasn't much else to do I went to Reigate with Tash to look around the shops. As it turned out Tash just wanted to look in the bloody clothes shops. Here are some of my comments from the shopping trip:

"It's alright, if you want to look like Little Bo Peep"
"Looks like it's just been dug up from the garden"
"Not bad if you want to go round looking like a gypsy"
"This one's nice (I then point to a bright green dress I know she won’t like)"
"You can get the same in Asda or Tesco for half the price"
"I wouldn't bother; it looks like it's made out of crepe paper"
"That looks like it came out of a Christmas cracker"

We got back just as the cricket finished.

Later on in the day I managed to capitalize in a break in the weather and lay those final four slabs, great success. I’ve Just got the rectangular ones to go now. During this brief session of yesterday I managed to bang my finger with the rubber mallet, I now have a black mark a tip my left middle. It's where the blood pooled under my skin from the smack. Add to this the cookie cutter shark gauges I got from rubbing sharp sand, into the gaps between slabs, on my right index and middle tips (from Sunday’s session) and you have a rather uncomfortable typing experience.

Finally I watched the following films this weekend:

1. Cloverfield
2. Butterfly on a Wheel
3. The Ringer
4. The Air I Breathe

Cloverfield was the best of these whilst The Air I Breathe was the worst. Brosnan was good in Butterfly on a Wheel.

Just before I forget, Tash & I have decided that Coca Cola Zero is the best Coke you can get. Whenever we go to a restaurant now we’re going to ask for Coca Cola Zero even if we know they don’t do it. Coca Cola Zero please.

Cheers a lot.

As I expect everyone to be fully aware I am currently in the throes of building a patio at the bottom of my garden. Here is a picture of the earth I have excavated next to the hole one dug and filled with hardcore:

Now then, now then, whilst digging this hole on Saturday I was continually surrounded by these silly little bees that were determined to investigate the ground I had just dug. They were, thankfully harmless and showed no interest in stinging me. There were not aggressive, even when I deliberately shoveled soil over them. Nice little bees. Whilst digging I listened to my Pure One DAB radio, Talksport of course.

During a rest break I stood beside the shed and surveyed the pit I had created. Upon this surveying I spotted a little froggy in the pit. I have no idea where this little froggy had come from but he was trying to make his way out of the hole, rather unsuccessfully. I decided I would help the little froggy, but first I would watch over him for a bit whilst I decided how best to lend a helping hand.

In order to help I positioned my spade under the froggy whilst he climbed up the corner of the pit. Then when he stumbled and fell I had him on the spade. I had to use the spade because I was too scared to touch. I then elevated the froggy to ground level and allowed him to amble onwards. He went off behind the shed and I bid him a fond farewell. For sometime after the rescue mission I was very pleased with myself, I just kept thinking in my head that I had "saved the day".

The day before, Friday for your information, I had managed to remove the following bamboo plant from the planned area of the patio:

I thought I would dig the sod out a real treat and then pot it, you see. The pot was purchased from the garden centre on Saturday morning for £19.99, I can tell you now that with the bamboo and earth in it weighs a shit load. I had to drag it along the floor to its current position, and that was a monumental effort. The effort is worth it though; on Sunday I went to B&Q and they were selling a bamboo plant half the size of mine and in a worse pot for £29.99. Good, my effort in digging and pot purchasing was entirely justified.

Tomorrow I'm off to the cricket at Lords, should be good if the weather holds up. I also have Friday off and I'm hoping that by Sunday I'll have a finished patio, let's just hope this good weather continues.

Oh yes, last night I had a little BBQ and ate some sausages. A bit later on we heard the next door neighbors having a right old barney. The woman was crying and really carrying on, she was shouting at her husband a lot. This morning as Tash left the neighbor was also leaving and she told Tash that "he'd had a few drinks", I wonder what happened... I really do.