Steven Paul Allen's Stories of Woe

I overshot; it was on the train that I overshot. Overshot by one stop. I was supposed to get off at Hammerjones, but ended up at Ravenscourt Mother. Quite an inconvenience I'll have you know. The over shooting occurred as I had become rather embroiled in a game of chess master on my calm shell styled portable communications mechanism. I was also listening to some David Bowie and drinking a can of Stella. In the doorway of the tube, is the place where I stood.

I realised my serious error when the tube grinded to a halt at Ravenscourt Minky. Looking at the sign stipulating the Ravenscourt Pinocolada I realised that this was not a stop that I had included in my brief study of the tube line from Viccy Smith to Hammerjones. I leapt off the tube with the grace of a mountain goat and made my way to the opposing platitude. I needed to travel eastbound for one stop to reach the desired destination, and that is what indeed transpired.

You see, I was travelling to the Hammerharibo Apollo 11 to witness Ricky Dervais perform his 'Fame' showstopper. It was really very good, quite enjoyable. However, the warm up act, a fellow called Robin, was pretty poor. It was 11pm when I got home from this enjoyable event and Ging and Ben, whom had joined me along with Stuart to witness the act, came back to my condominium to enjoy some drinks and check out the DVD that Ricky Dervais had given everyone. It was instead of a program, see. The DVD was just sound based, no pictures here mate. This disappointed me.

Apparently when I eventually went to bed it was 1.30am, but I woke Tash up to declare that it was in fact 3am. She did not know why I would do this, and I have no idea either. I then proceeded to fall asleep and take over her side of the bed, this, I am told, kept her up and spoilt her night's sleep.

When I awoke in the morning (this would be yesterday) it was 9.07am. I leapt out of bed with the grace of a striped flat lizard and adorned my person with some articles of clothing. I then went to leave my abode and discovered that my car wasn't in the car port. It was then that the dreadful realisation that I had driven my car to the station the evening prior hit me. I had left my car at the station of the train, what a cuss. So, I had to get a taxi in, fortunately the cab arrived very promptly and I was in work by 9.30am. No harm, no foul. Second time this week my alarm has failed in its task to awaken me. What an inconsiderate little cuss.

Went home for lunch, but not to eat my actual lunch. No, no no. I went home for lunch to stick a pin in my finger. I had already eaten my elevenses at one, it's a topsy turvey lifestyle, but I like it.

On my drive home I very kindly stopped to let some cars through along a road which is notorious for parked cars. The fact that made this act the most kind of all was that the cars were parked on the other side of the road, it was therefore my right of way. But, I wavered. I'm such a good bloke.

The reason I would mention such a frivolous incident was because the second person I allowed through was a woman who looked like a toad. You know the sort big square chin and bright red lips half way up her boat. Quite an apparition. Upon acknowledging her thanks the toad thought entered my head. Oh no, I hope she's not made herself up to look like that on purpose and is on the prowl searching for evil minded toady thinkers, whom she hunts down using some sort of mind reading technique. That's what I thought. You just never know these days. Hope nothing horrible happens to me.

Once home I got a lighter, pin and a roll of paper intended for the wiping of ones bottom hole. It was quite easy securing an opening to the infection on my finger as the skin around it had become quite tough. I skewered my way into the balloon of unmentionable doom and squeezed out the terrible sauce onto the tissue paper. Then I gave the area a through wash in hot water with Radox hand wash. To finish I covered the area in Germolene and a drop of tea tree for good measure, the whole blinking lot was massaged in. I have sealed the hole to the cave of horror in magical Germolene and tea tree antiseptic compote. It feels so much better now, I'm very pleased that I did what I did. I feel justified in my actions. I feel I done good.

Before I left my house to journey back to the office I had a swig of strawberry Yop for medicinal purposes.

Hello there,

I would like to share with you some of the things that have occurred during my lifetime since 8.45am yesterday morning. Just a bit of back ground research from Sunday night for you before I get into the core subject matter. You see, I went to Tash's parent’s house for some roast beef, to be deposited in my tummy. Whilst the roast beef had been sent packing into my system I drank a fair amount of rose wine. By the time we left this bottle of rose had been well and truly polished off. After the food had been processed into our bodies we carried on drinking. Tash's dad got out the armagnac and we had a few dashes of that into the mix. Well, by the time I got home I was rather drunk and I decided to carry on the trend by getting out my very own armagnac and pouring out the stuff and assimilating it into my system. I texted some chaps to see if I could entice anyone over to play Wii, but this was in vain, so I just sat and listened to David Bowie and then went to bed and watched Arrested Development.

Now, if you will, I can begin on my 8.45am yesterday to present day slot.

I was awoken at 8.45am yesterday by a ringing doorbell. The ringing doorbell was generated by Jay pressing a button by my door. He had come for his lift into work which I had promised him by way of a text message interchange the previous day. Well, this ringing bell of door woke me with quite a start; I can assure you of that. I went downstairs in my boxer shorts and polo shirt, for I had been sleeping in these garments, and answered the door. Jay was instructed to wait in the lounge where he attempted to gyrate my powerball.... he no success. His attempts were futile. In the meantime I brushed my teeth and shoved my legs into some trouser pipes. I decided to leave my hair alone and my polo shirt on, there simply was no time to muck about old bean. We were out of the house and on the road at 8.50am, an achievement I stand by.

I was still late, but it was the traffic that caused this. Bloody mothers dropping kids off at the school in a fucking 4x4, quite annoying and quite unnecessary. When will they learn? I was made to walk to the bus stop and catch the bus to school. It was crap, but I had no choice. The crime rate was the same but there wasn't this ridiculous media hysteria around in those days which made parents think twice about letting their kids out alone. So, now we have to put up with loads of scared mothers dropping their kids off at the school gates and getting in the way of all us decent folk trying to get to work on time and keep the bloody economy going.

Whilst at work yesterday I had a coffee which was half milk and half coffee and water mixed together. I found this highly enjoyable. I also had a revolutionary idea. This is to make pads of paper using rice paper. Then people fill their pens with food colouring instead of ink and write with that. Further to this when the pad is full you can eat it. It is something that I would certainly enjoy. Plus you can get everyone high on food colourings in the office and talk gibberish as a result of this. The best thing is that you won’t be the only one talking nonsense, everyone will be doing it. You could do things like go through the contents of your desk draw with people, going into great detail about everything in there. It would be very interesting, but essentially, at the heart of it all, you would be talking gibberish.

Now it is time for me to let you know what I did during my evening when I got home after my day in the office.

Last week I got a little stepping machine, looks like this:

I have been using it in the lounge whilst watching films on the big boy tele box. If you balance your feet on the stepper so that your heels are hanging over the edge and begin to step a deep burn is achieved in the calves. I like this, I find it very good but very strange. So, yesterday I had a couple of bits of marmite on toast and literally hopped onto the stepping mechanism of purity and peace. I had a film to watch called 'Capote', and this was duly whacked on. After watching 40 minutes of this disaster of a film I turned it off. Complete garbage it was. I have sent the sod packing back to LOVEFiLM, what an annoying film it is. The lead characters voice grated on me so much so that I actually had to stop watching it before I became physically sick. Anyway once that crap was vanquished from my tele box Tash and I decided to go to Tesco and do a little shopping for groceries and other consumable goods.

In Tesco I bought a wall mountable clock with roman numerals on it for the hot room, at £3.50 it was a veritable snippet. We then went and looked at the board games. Hungry Hippos was under a tenner but Tash didn't want it. One of these days I'll get me that Hungry Hippos game, so help me I will. We also got one of those resistance tubes. I had a little go on it, didn't get on that well with the blighter, but I will persist. I can be a stubborn little mule sometimes. When we got round to the water I declared, quite openly, that Highland Spring was the best and we'll be getting that. A fellow surveying the water selection must have over heard as he told us that it was because it was from the best country. Must have been a Scot, I ignored his quip but Tash pandered to him engaging him in some meaningless back chat. I got my water and moved swiftly on to the alcohol selection. We got this stuff called 'Louisiana Spirit', £8 for the bottle.

Spent £75 all told. I then got some petroleum gasoline, the high powered super stuff. I needed that. Well, upon returning home the unpacking of our groceries commenced. I took out the Louisiana Spirit and set it down on the coffee table. As I placed the bottle I heard a cracking noise, as if I had placed the bottle on some broken glass. I thought this peculiar and lifted the bottle to see what had broken. Well, as I lifted the very bottom of the bottle stayed put and the rest of the bottle stayed in my hand. The entire content of the bottle then rushed out all over the floor and table. Wretch! I couldn't believe it.

The bottle had sheared at the bottom and me placing the swine down had been the last straw for some sort of hairline fracture that must have occurred during transit. I was left bewildered holding a bottomless bottle. It took an entire roll of toilet paper to soak up the spill. £8 and a roll of loo papier wasted there. Just great. Once the whole sorry mess had been sorted I made myself two chicken frankfurters which I placed in a wholemeal sub with ketchup. Quite nice actually. I also had a glass of milk and settled myself down.

I went to bed about 10.30pm and watched some more Arrested Development.

One final matter to discuss old bean. I have managed to acquire some sort of infection on my right index finger. Some little cuss must have got under the side of my nail or something because the end of the digit has flared up a rotten treat. Last night I was woken up by the pain generated by the little blighter throbbing away like it was going out of fashion, 3am it was. Took me about half an hour to get back to sleep. You see, what I had done was buy some tea tree oil and give the bugger a good dousing in it before I went to bed. Evidently the infection did not enjoy my combative action and decided to act up. I just lay there with my arm raised up like I was asking a question or something. This achieved a welcome break after a while and allowed me the opportunity to return to the land of nod. It was a genuinely strange experience.

When I last had training I made some notes, here they are:

If you're having trouble reading this if you click it, they will come.

Not this week, but the last one. That will have been Saturday the 15th of September. I will now divulge what I can remember of my activity. Had the Friday off so started drinking rose wine out of a box for luncheon. This was to provide the impetus for quite a rowdy evening’s entertainment. It all started rather innocuously when I entered the Harlequin Theatre as a prelude to witnessing the slide show of a certain Norman Lovett. He is pictured below with me and Stuart.

Now, as you can well imagine I was quite well oiled by this juncture of the evening and I began to start interacting with Norman by shouting out and generally being a bit of a pain. At one point he put a picture of a wookie up and I then made wookie noises for the next five minutes whilst the rest of the audience tried to silence me. I was informed of this over the weekend just passed. I do not remember this. I also shouted out 'Yes' on a number of occasions. It was just something to do.

After Norman had finished his entertainment stint we ventured out into a public house. By this time things had taken a turn for the worse as I had become quite intoxicated indeed. I ended up on my own in the pub talking nonsense to strangers. After the pub shut I got myself a cab to the abode of Rob Morgan where we had quite a few spirits. My memory is then a blank, but I am informed that Stuart and Ging discovered me asleep outside in the region of Earlswood and kindly escorted me home. I have no recollection of this event.

I awoke on Saturday at the stately time of 1pm. Immediately I discovered some missed calls as I had invited my brother, Ted and Christopher around and told them to arrive at mid day. I returned the missed calls and informed my invitees that I was up and the way forward to enter my home was now paved. In a jiffy bag they were round and the cricket was put on the tele box, for the reason they had been invited was actually to view the events of the T20 cup unfold. As per the previous day rose wine from a box was poured into a glass and I was once again on my way.

In the evening we had a BBQ. I had to venture forth and purchase the relevant coals and foodstuffs, which I just about managed. Alas, I had forgotten the firelighters. So, we torched the coals by flaming them using a lighter and deodorant. I also used some PR spray as a propellant. It worked a bloody treat I tell thee. Now, I couldn’t tell you exactly what transpired in the later hours of the day, suffice to say there was a lengthy conversation regarding the origins of the pineapple.

At 6am I went to bed, I had been harassing Ted and Chris who wanted to go to sleep by talking gibberish to them for several hours. What I did was quite simple. I said goodnight, went upstairs and then sneaked back down and burst into the lounge exclaiming 'I bet you thought you'd got rid of me didn't you?' It really was a lot of fun.

Sunday was a write off. I cleared up an entire bin liner of beer cans, which filled my heart with joy untold. I then just sat in my chair and watched the tele box. Something to be proud of there me thinks.

Sometimes when I visit the lav of choice here at my humble place of work something rather strange happens. It all starts when I am sat on the toilet and I hear a knock at the door. "Hello" comes the inquisitive enquiry of the cleaner, a little Mediterranean woman called 'Rita Gonzalez'. I just call out in response to this a tentative "hello". This call out confirms to her that there is someone present in the men's water closet and prevents any 'unfortunate incidents'. I am never sure what else to call out, so it is always "hello".

The problem for me arises if I am deep into a game of chess on my phone and I need time to complete, as she waits outside for me to finish. The last time I spent another ten minutes in the toilet completing my game. As I left we exchanged glances. I know she was thinking that I must be constipated or something but this is fine, she must never know the truth. This has only ever happened at my lav of choice.

Yesterday I boiled a pan of H2O and popped in two frankfurters. The crux was that when I squeezed the frankfurters in from the packet I noticed that one of them looked a little whiter than white. Upon contemplation of this fact I remembered that the packet of Hertas had been open for a while. I decided this must be the crucial factor in the white discolouration of the frankfurter. Rather than just throw away the frankies I took the boiling pan of water outside, picked out the furters and gave them a hefty hurling into the car park next door. My thinking was that the local fox would be able to sniff them out and access them from the car park. This is because the car park is not fenced off. My garden is fenced off.

Today I have had a lovely time in Argos. I went there to purchase a vacuum cleaner. I bought a Hoover, the term some people use to refer to such appliances in a rather generic manner. It is a bagless one, but that's not what's important right now. I got in the queue with my bit of paper with the code on it, oh yes, and discovered that I was positioned behind an actual old lady in a motorised cart. I managed to play a whole two game of chess on my mobile phone whilst I waited in the queue behind her. The major problem was when she got to the cashier and had a conversation that just seemed to run on forever. From what I gathered she was buying a rather bulky item, and the kind little sod behind the cash register recommended a delivery rather than struggle home with it. She decided this would be a good idea and then had to give the little sod her address. This is where the real problems started. For example, she didn't know her home phone number and had to call her friend over to remind her. Oh I can never remember it, ha ha ha. No it's not fucking funny. In the end the customer services till opened, and I was over like a shot. I paid for my Hoover, 80 squid for your information, and the old lady on a motorised cart was still at it.

Before I went to Argos I went to Nat West to pay my council tax. There were two people at the tills that were open so I took my place at the front of a queue. A lone queue I had just started. No sooner than I had formed this solitary queue than one of the tills became open. However rather than offer her services to me immediately this annoying middle aged woman decided to get up and start pottering around. Oh yes, that's it, don't serve customers just because there's one person waiting. Much better to have a potter. She fucked about so much that I got served by the other till after the other customer had finished. Unacceptable.

I am writing this little posting from the confines of the hot room. Usually I would type and thus create a written account of my actions and thoughts from my workstation, however I am at home. See, got today off and I also had yesterday off. I have taken this time to march wantonly through a healthy batch of rose wine whilst enjoying the vista that is T20 cricket on my newly acquired sky sports capability.

On Wednesday I visited the casa de Ian Dulley to watch the England match on a football tipple. He has managed to get himself a 50 inch widescreen tele and it was an utter joy watching the action unfold on it. It’s gotta lovely rim on it I tell thee. After the match there were some Xbox hi jinks and I was fucking terrible. My guitar hero abilities were sub standard, but I gave the little sod a go. You just can’t say fairer than that. Carlito gave me a lift home, bless his cottons, and when I got in Tash made me a sausage sandwich. I am reliably informed that I did not eat it all.

Yesterday I was up and at them fairly sprightly at an hour that was very reasonable indeed. I used my time to watch the cricket on the tele box, I also made a tune on fruity loops which I have subsequently posted on songswemade.blog.co.uk. I am pleased with my efforts. In the evening when Tash got back we went to the pub, the one called ‘The flying Scud’. We met Ed and Sarah and proceeded to participate in a pub quiz. We called our team ‘Sitting Pretty on a Bag of KP Nuts’, there was more but I have forgotten the rest. Please forgive my ignorance.

Well, we didn’t come last. In fact we came second from last. I think we did pretty well and I was quite pissed by the end of the evening as I had been drinking rose wine and watching ‘The Godfather’ in the impeding hours before setting sail for the scud that flies. When we got back I watched some snooker on sky sports and fell asleep in the chair. I woke up just past 4am and made my way to the bed proper, the land of nod had handed me a duff deal…. I had fallen asleep in a fucking chair for the love of god.

Today I have been drinking rose wine out of a box, it is quite a nice thing to do actually. The cricket was a shocker, but we made it through. One thing I would like to draw people’s attention to is the fact that sky sports have this really annoying woman called ‘Donna’ commentating in fits and starts, she is a really shit commentator and the sooner she is booted off the better. I never want to hear her voice again. So what I am doing now is having a David Bowie medley in the hot room and drinking wine whilst typing these very words on my computer. It is a nice thing to do.

Later this evening I will be going to the Harlequin Theatre in Redhill to see ‘Norman Lovett’s Slide Show’. Apparently this bloke just goes through pictures of his house and his various travels and makes funny comments. It’s supposed to be a right royal laugh. It’s only £11 a ticket so it must be worth a punt.

Two days off and then the weekend for me I tell you. Just got to get this afternoon at my workstation and then I am home free for four days all in a row. Champions, as Bobby Boucher would say. YOU HAVE TO LICK THE OF THE LID OF A YOGURT POT WHERE RESIDUE IS PRESENT.

Yesterday I was sitting down in my new team and duly noted that the four of us, when swivelled round in our chairs formed a quadrant. I call this quadrant 'the quadrant of lease'. It has been foretold. Also yesterday I ate a banana in my car whilst driving home from the office, I found this to be a rather peculiar experience as it was an exceptionally large banana with a considerable girth. I was forced to munch it down in small mouthfuls as a result of this. After parking my automotive and entering my domicile, I sat in a chair. Whilst sat in this chair I was informed that Ed and Sarah had been invited over for a BBQ. I watched the cricket on my tele box whilst I allowed this information to sink into my being.

I was able to watch the cricket for a relatively simple reason. This is that I upgraded my virgin media lunch box to the full monty over the telephone whilst I should have been working. On my rug, in your bed... on my rug. That's right, I now have the ability to watch all the sky sports and setanta sports as well as a host of other goodies. As a demonstration of my capabilities as a fully paid up member of the cable community I watched Nat Geo Wild this morning and saw some people feeding a shark in a tank. I enjoyed this.

The BBQ last night went swimmingly. I got the fucker going by dousing the bottom layer of charcoal in meths and squirting liquid fire lighter over the rest of it like it was going out of fashion. When I lit the proverbial blue touch paper the BBQ went up like the veritable towering inferno. I stood and watched for a wee dram and then exited the garden via way of a patio door and continued watching the cricket. I should also say that before I lit the BBQ I went and had a run around the surrounding area, mainly Reigate. This run took me about 45 minutes and because I had eaten a banana I got a weird stitch half way round the course. Being the stoic performer that I am, I ran through the pain and before long the stitch had gone.

Ed and Sarah turned up about 8pm ish and we proceeded to cook food on the BBQ and have a jolly old chitter chatter. I drank a bottle of this rather pleasant Rose then moved onto polish off the bottle that Tash and Sarah had started. Ed and I then played Wii sports and did shorts of Corky's strawberry and cream vodka drinky thing. We also used to Wii to surf the information highway of facts and figures and had a look at the new house Ed and Sarah bought the day before yesterday, it looks a real beauty. We also surveyed the area in which it is located using google maps to look at satellite pictures of the locality. I went to bed around mid night.

Now I would like to inform you that I too have made a purchase. It is a DAB digital alarm clock and I am very pleased about it, more pleased than you could possibly imagine. I have used it to tune into the crystal clear clarity broadcasts of 'LBC' and 'Talksport'. These are the only two stations I listen to and I ruddy well love them. They are the only presets I'll ever need. I've already been enjoying the fun that is Clive Bull on LBC late at night. You see, I like to go to bed and put the radio on whilst I adopt a horizontal resting position under the duvet and wait for the sand man to send me off to the land of nod. It's a nice thing to do, actually.

Good Old Weekend Just Passed. Friday night went to Chez Ging's and watched a rather odd, but rather good film called 'Cronos'. Having seen the film I texted Ian Dulley to let him know it was a goodun'. I had to send three messages reporting this fact until he responded with 'third time's a charm'. It most certainly is.

On Saturday I went up to Lords to watch the decider in the one day series between England and India. Well, I missed my train from Redhill and as a result had to rearrange the meet with my father and brother from East Croydon to London Bridge. Hey, no biggie. We met up alright at London Bridge and set sail for StJohn's Wood. Upon exiting the station we were met with a horde of ticket touters trying to buy tickets. Yes, that's right I went and stood outside a railway station and said I'd buy tickets to a cricket match whilst people looked at me like I'm an idiot. They are idiots and they just get in the way. The police should arrest them instead of just standing around like spare pricks at a wedding. Also providing a good obstruction to the converging masses were these numb skulls handing out free bags of crisps. As you can imagine, you get the freebie parade gathering round in their droves trying to pock as many crisps as possible. I just wanted the bastards to go away.

Once in we got seated and soon came to realise that there were in fact more Indian supporters than England supporters. My brother and I were surrounded by them, and what's more they screamed and hollered even when they got a single. I have also gathered that the fave swear word of the Indians is 'wanker'. They like to shout out at the England players calling them wankers, it's just something they enjoy. They also go mental when Tendulker hits any runs. It was good when he got out, we had a hearty celebration right under their noses. All the antics of the Indian support really did make me want to beat them as they'd have been unbearable had they won, and as a result of this I really did get quite into it.

When Anderson caught their last man out I jumped up and celebrated like I'd won the lottery. It really was a great catch and you could see the dejection on the face of the Indian support. Marvellous stuff. Well, by this time we were all well on out way in terms of pints of beer, and at lunch we had a piss and had a couple of pints at the bar. The England innings started poorly with two ducks and the Indians started to get ahead of themselves a bit. Pity for them they hadn't counted on Colly and KP putting on the final runs with ease, the poor fools. By the end of it my voice had taken a right old battering and we were really very drunk. It had been a fantastic game, though. One of the best I have seen in a long time.

Getting back proved a bit of a hullabaloo at London Bridge and we had a bit of a game getting the correct train to East Croydon, ending up on a slowie. Once at East Croydon my Dad got a train back and my brother and I went back to his house. I think I fell asleep quite early, I can't really remember. Any how, I was on the sofa and woke up at 5am and couldn't get back to sleep. I just lay there and watched BBC news 24. It was really annoying as I wanted to see the England goals from Saturday but they kept going on about the bloody McCanns all the time. At 7.20am when I finally thought I was going to see them, they interrupted it for breaking news of the McCanns leaving their house to go to the airport. Wow, who gives a shit about that? Certainly not worth interrupting the sport for, I tell you, I'm bloody sick of it.

I caught the train back from my brothers at 8.45am and walked home from Redhill, I was home by 9.30am and decided to watch some films. First off I watched 'Sliver' whilst lying in bed. It was alright, a bit laughable, but watchable. Then I went downstairs and watched a film called 'Venus' with Peter O'Toole, he was very good and the film had its moments, but it wasn't really my cup of tea. It was a bit weird and creepy truth be told. Whilst watching this I ate pasta and cheese which was hearty and filling. I then went upstairs to the hot room and watched '28 Weeks Later' whilst I peddled my stationary bicycle. I did this with all the doors and windows closed and built up a sweat, this helped to 'sweat out' all the beer from Saturday. I liked '28 Weeks Later', it was quite alright.

I was on the anchored bicycle for an hour and a half and afterwards had a lovely deep bath. By the time I'd finished in the bath it was about 6pm and I decided to go downstairs and watch 'Black Snake Moan', this was excellent and I now want the soundtrack to it. Samuel L Jackson was really 'excellent' in it. I interrupted the film to get myself the obligatory Sunday take away curry which again was 'excellent', always the same Keith. Before turning in I watched another good film, this one was called 'Disturbia', I liked it. I then went to bed and visited the land of nod. The sand man visited me at 4am.

That was the name of our pub quiz team last night down the flying scud. We did a lot better this time, coming in fourth... a valiant effort for all and sundry. Now, before heading off to the Thursday quizzle stick I did a few things. Namely visit the gym for a row on the machine that allows you to pull on a handle bar and slide up and down without actually going anywhere. It really is a wonder of the modern age. I then used some of the weight lifting machines to achieve a certain amount of resistance to pull against, and indeed with, using my arm and hammer baking soda hands. I spent about 40 minutes in the gymnasium, a fleeting visit, one might well say. When I got home I put some laundry in the Beast of Bodmin and set the crank off at 40 degrees for a full wash cycle of cleanliness and godliness. I then went out for a run.

Now, this run took me 1 hour and 20 minutes, the longest I have run continuously for a great deal of time. Whilst enduring this feat of one foot after the other motion pit stops my shorts became slightly wet with sweat and as a consequence my legs began to chafe. It really was a bit annoying as my shorts kept getting curled up and ensnared within themselves causing knotting and rubbing. This morning when I got up I had quite sore patches in opposing areas of my upper limbs. I have applied Vaseline and I hope this problem will be short lived.

Upon my arrival home from the public house quiz I watched an episode of 24 and put the laundry out to dry on the clothes horse. I had four pints of Fosters at the pub, which is quite reserved, but quite alright. I then went to bed and visited the land of nod, the sand man visited me in the night and gave me some sleep in my eye. When I woke up I had yet another bath and did not, I repeat did not, read any of my book. Now I am at work.

Last night I did not watch any films, something I am not proud of. However, on Wednesday I did watch films. Two of them. The first was 'Apolcalypto', which was really very good indeed. There was a really cool bit where our hero coats some spikes from a bush in poison from a froggy and then uses them as blow darts to take out some of his pursuers... I like. The second film I took into my brain via my line of slight was 'Pulse', which was a pretty average horror film. The best bit of this was when a rather beastly creature emerged out of a washing machine and attacked this girl who was doing her laundry. The creature had multiple arms and used them to claw its way out of a washing machine drum. It was very odd.

I just had to sit with an auditor for well over an hour, it was well mushy. She kept asking silly questions and making me do print screens, I tell you I have been to and fro to the printer more times in the last hour than I have been in the last month. A very stupid experience indeed.

Didn't have a curry this Monday, on your rug. So, curry night was adapted for a Tuesday night slot. Tash cooked it whilst I peddled away for the equivalent of 12 kilometres. Of course I did not actually physically transport myself for this distance, but my on board computer informed me of my virtual achievement. This occurred on a stationary bicycle that can not physically be propelled through space via peddling.

The curry was munched up into my stomach at a time after 7pm, but before 8pm. We then watched two episodes of 24 season 6. Tash wanted to watch more, but I said we must try and make it last a bit. I said this because I wanted to watch a film, it was called 'Straightheads'. You see how that works? Instead of saying I wanted to watch a film I turned it around and said we must make 24 last, otherwise I would have been stuck watching 24 instead me watching the film I wanted to watch. It freed up the TV for the film instead of 24. Crafty cuts.

The film was one of the shortest I have seen for some considerable time, weighing in at a paltry 1 hour and 8 minutes. I did enjoy it though. Danny Dyer goes mental at the end, which is entertainment central and no mistake. Whilst I watched this film I supped on a Strawberry flavoured Actimel. I find that this helps in the digestion of curry.

Once over I went to bed and watched an episode of 'Arrested Development'. I was happy because it was one of the funniest ones of the first season. I then went to sleep, it must have been before 11pm, this is probably the earliest time I have fallen asleep for months. I woke up at 7.59am with that bloody song from the Magners advert in my head. It goes 'sunshine came softy through my, window today'.

I also had a very nice dream in which my dad, brother and I went to watch Nottingham Forest play Aston Villa at Bristol City's ground. Forest won 3-1 and we were all really happy as we're Forest fans. Aston's Villa's goal was scored by their keeper and after that all the Forest players kept trying to score from the half way line to teach him a lesson. It was a good dream.

I would also like to make it very clear that I now have my mobile phone back. I said thank you to the nice man at 'The Flying Scud' who provided me with my phone upon entering the public house and declaring my identity. He told me that his misses had discovered the mobile cellular device outside the pub on Saturday morning.

Saturday was a day for pure rest and recovery. I think I got out of bed about 4.30pm and proceeded to travel downstairs in my dressing gown. I watched a film and had some toast, the film was called 'Unknown', and it was not that good. Later on in the evening Christopher Cooke of Monty Christo Beach came around for steak, he made this rotter of a cheese sauce. Blue cheese sauce he called it, and it smelt like old socks and pants. Disgusting, and to make it worse he brought in the sauce pan he'd concocted it in and left it on the table as we ate. Right under my nose with that emanation, whilst I eat, with a hang over? Jameson, you swine.

I had to get up and physically move the pan over to the other side of the table, it was dreadful. The steak and chips were quite alright though, and I munched it up a veritable treat. Whilst we munched our treats up I put on the bloody dancing competition, which I actually found to be not bad, I particularly enjoyed the Swedish man who looked like a munchkin and body popped all over the place. What we were really waiting for though was 'Match of the Day'. I had successfully shielded mine eyes from the football scores and was really looking forward to the televisual feast of football that awaited my attention. However, I discovered two of the results when they were revealed in the news just before MoTD, bloody BBC ruined two results for me moments before the show stopper. I scrambled for the TV remote and turned the blighter off. You see, because we were chatting we hadn't heard the warning they usually give and the results had fallen on my eyes.

After MoTD Christophe Columbus toddled off home and I decided to finish watching 'Essex Boys', which I had started earlier in the day. It is a very good film, based on something that actually happened. I do so prefer it when they are based on actual happenings. Sean Bean is very good as an extremely nasty and violent individual, well done Sean Bean for your ability to convey a madman, well done indeed. I went to bed at about 3am and fell asleep very quickly; quicker than I care to imagine in fact.

On Sunday I was due to attend a duck racing extravaganza at Hampton Court, but the train was at 10am and there was no way I was going to make that. On top of this rather hefty incentive not to attend I hadn't got my phone as I believed it to be at Rob's flat, so the potential for me to go up and not actually meet anyone I knew was great. It is for this reason that I did not attend this event. Instead I watched 'The Good Shepherd' and 'Ghost Rider', which were both very mediocre and a bit boring. I then decided to channel hop and eat toast with Marmite upon it. Oh yeah, I then went for a run to get my car which was parked in Reigate, parked there since Friday it had been. When I got back I had a take away curry from Ruchitas and Tash and I had a bit of a 24 season 6 marathon. This I am enjoying very much and I am exceptionally happy that 'Powers Boothe' is playing the vice president.

Come 9pm Tash was tired, so she went to bed and I watched a true 'rags to riches' film called 'Invincible', it was very good. At 10.35pm I watched MoTD 2, I had successfully shielded myself from the scores, with no exceptions this time, and it was an enjoyable watch. After this I fell to sleep and Monday was upon me.

At work I asked Rob if my phone was at his flat, he didn't know. So, after work I popped round to have a look see. It wasn't there, so I decided that it must be at my house and I must look harder. I got home and had a proper look to no avail. Feeling dishevelled I had a couple of pieces of Marmite on toast and went to the gym. Ape man was there and I steered well bloody clear, he was on a stationary mechanism peddling like nobody’s business with a look of absolute thunder on his face. I went on one of the shoulder press machines where I could get a good look at him, he was wearing a headband. When I got home I went on my very own stationary peddle machine for half an hour and watched some of 'The Motorcycle Diaries', I went a bit mad and was absolutely soaked in sweat, so I thought I'd have a nice little bath. Whilst in this bath I finished a short story by Philip K. Dick which was truly bizarre and called 'Upon the Dull Earth'.

I then waited for Tash to get in. You see, I was keen to go to the 24 hour Tesco and do a massive shop. When she got in I was informed that she couldn't face it, so I went alone. By this time it was just past 9pm. Into my motorized conveyance I jumped and off I went to the supermarket they call Tesco. In the back of my vehicle I had a load of cardboard and bottles, so before I leapt into the store to purchase goods, I went to the recycling centre and offloaded my bottles and card. They don't actually have a section for card so I just luzzed it into the corner of the recycling area, they can deal with that now. I was quite frankly sick of it being in the back of my car. By the time I was driving away from Tesco it was 10.40pm.

I spent £75 in the store and had a fair bit of 'putting away' to do when I got in. After this putting away I opened the legendary ‘sandwich shop’, for business. Whilst in Tesco I had purchased the necessary ingredients to make a weeks worth of sandwiches. Ham, cheese, bread and spread were the options I choose to facilitate. The packing option was provided in small self seal bags. So, I set about my work, making two rounds of sammys and then packing them in the self seal bags. Once in the bag I sucked all the air out and then quickly sealed, creating a vacuum which would prevent condensation entering my sammy. You see, I freeze the sandwiches and then bring them to work with me on a first come, first served basis. It stops the blighters going off. It is imperative they are vacuum packed, the air… it taste okay.

It was 11.15pm before Tash and I had the chance to watch episode 13 of 24 season 6, which was a goodun, thanks Powers Boothe for being such a warmonger. We then went to bed and watched an episode of 'Arrested Development', I was soon asleep. I was very tired, you see.

This morning I was greeted with an email from my Dad asking me to give them a ring regarding my mobile phone. I thought it was a bit peculiar so I went ahead with the phone call. Mum answered and told me that the good people down at 'The Flying Scud' had given her a ring on my phone to tell her that they had it (the phone). They had found the entry 'Mum' in the phonebook and given it a ring. Bloody lovely, I had began to give up hope and was on the brink of ringing O2 to cancel the sim, jolly good job I didn't. So, I've given them good folk down the scud a ring and I'll be picking it up this evening. They found it on Saturday morning outside the pub, must have fallen out of my pocket when I was on the floor.

Had a lovely night out this Friday, just a real peach of an evening. It all started when I left work rather prematurely having acquired a charming little training course for all and sundry, very pleasant outcome indeed. The very first thing I did once out of the work property, owned by my employers, is to drive to the BP where I purchased the bear toilet roll, or Charmin Ultra for short. I also procured some energy drinks and bread, just bread for me to eat. Simple bread of the mill of king, a nice one.

So, I went home with my bucket of goods and sat in my chair whilst enjoying energy drinks and watching a Sean Bean film called 'The Outlaw'. At some point during this film I prevented the drinking of energy drinks by interrupting myself with highly alcoholic Leffe Beer. I should also point out that by this point I had eaten a plate of pasta covered in cheese which was quite delightful, quite unexpected, but quite alright. I found the film 'The Outlaw', very enjoyable as it was very good and also very strange. At some point during the film Christopher Cooke popped around to chat about the stag outing of the previous week.

I left my house to go out into the land of the mong around the 7pm marker, it was a nice thing to do. I headed to the pub and began to drink heavily with my work colleagues. It got very silly in 'The Bell' when we started doing these things called 'strawpedos', which are a cross between a straw and a pea and a meadow. Well, it is in reality this rather strange scientific discovery that you can down a bottle of drink by inserting a straw, bending it round the entrance of the bottle, wrapping ones lips around the bottle and submerging. What happens is that the liquid is forced straight down into your stomach without having to gulp. I did one of these things and also had about four or so shots of brandy. When we left 'The Bell' everyone was really slashed and it was funny.

A taxi was flagged down and we jumped in and told mr taxi man to take us to this real dump called 'Liquid Envy' in Redhill. Here's the snap of us in the back of the cab:

As soon as we left the cab the police spied Carlito and went off and grassed him up to the bouncers. The fuzz told the bouncers not to let Carlito in as he was too drunk. So Carlito (or Bruno Fountain as he likes to be called) and myself queued up for about 15 minutes and were then told we couldn't go in. I for my trainers which were too messy and Carlito because the fuzz dobbed him in. All our friends were in the club but we weren’t allowed in, hey no fair. In order to negate the awfulness of not being allowed in we crossed the road and went into the pub called 'The Stabbot', named so for the amount of stabbings that occur there. We had a pint each and Carlito began to close his eyes, in the meantime I made friends with a builder from Peterborough.

I do not remember what time we left this pub but I am told by Christopher Cooke that I rang him from outside the Kebab Shop at 20 to 1 wanting to know if he was still in my house, he also tells me that I kept asking if big brother was shit. I believe I had a kebab and some chips, but who is to say if this really transpired? Carlito, was asleep in a shop doorway, so I got him up and we crossed the road to harass the BP night pay. I bought some things and we then went to Rob Morgan’s flat to carry on the fun time. It took a while to get there as Carlito kept falling asleep on the verge, but we did get there, we most certainly did.

Rob did not have any drink so we ordered a taxi. This taxi was to take me to my house, wait outside whilst I obtained some bottles of spirits, and then bring me back. This actually happened. I paid mr taxi man £5 for his troubles and went back inside the flat of Rob. I had brought with me Grand Marnier, brandy, apple schnapps, Wray and Nephew and something else which I forget. It wasn't soon before Carlito was asleep in the chair and Rob and I were strumming away on his guitars singing random Spanish words whilst incorporating the name 'Carlito Brigante' many times. He woke up a few times but immediately fell back to sleep.

From what I am told we must have left Rob's some time between 5am and 5.30am as Ian Dulley received a missed call from me at 5am and Carlito was picking me up off the floor outside the Flying Scud at 5.30am. I have also been told that I eventually got in at 8.30am and was incoherent. I have no idea what happened between 5.30am and 8.30am. I have also lost my phone, although it might still be at Rob's.