Thursday, September 18, 2008

 

Lying in the long long grass, Blossom on the trees, Springtime's slipping away my love, Yeah springtime's slipping away.

Hello,
Been a while I know but for good reason, I've torn my shoulder muscle (trapezius, it's more than just a little tear, you can see where a bit of the muscle has snapped and sprung back/recoiled to it's starting point) and it hurts like fuck when I type/sit at a keyboard/breath/live/do anything.
So I'll keep this short and sweet, as I've not got much to tell you anyway.
I've been playing soccermanager way too much, and I'm addicted, I've just left Reading and taken over as manager of Spurs because they have a better squad, my first game in charge was last night and I lost 2-1, (Reading won 7-1) so there is still a bit of work to do, (if you join up, then I 'm in the setups : World Championship 157, World Championship 1322 and English Championship 337, if you join them, then you can play my teams, or cheat and give me your money)
I reformatted my PC last week (well Trelly did it - with a Genuine Windows XP too!) because it was running so slow and being a bitch, so we gave it the old back up everything important (porn) and delete the rest and start again, we added some memory too and now I'm happy to say, my computer is fine apart from my sound card which isn't working, don't know what to do there, the drivers haven't fixed it, I think Trelly might have licked it while I wasn't looking, but I can't prove it, anyway I can get hold of a few sound cards for zero pennies, so I'll just change it and cross me fingers that it works, also my spell checker isn't working any ideas peeps? it usually has a red line under mis-spelt words.
I've had a cracking idea for a new story, and as soon as I can type for more than a minute without pain, I'll be writing it up, I think you'll like it, it's not about death and misery, quite the opposite in fact, anyway, I'll keep you posted as to when it get's written.
It's Lee's 30th Birthday on Sunday so many happy returns mate, I'm not going to make it now, but it isn't for the lack of trying. Hope you have a great day.
I'm in a bit of pain now, and the pills I'm on are making me really dizzy and confused (and constipated) so I'm going to leave you now with a funny story by Woody Allen, I don't usually like the guy buy this is fucking hilarious, it's funnier when you hear him tell it but read the script and you might laugh.

"I shot a moose, once. I was hunting up-state New York, and I shot a moose, and I strap him on to the fender of my car, and I'm driving home along the west side highway, but what I didn't realize was, that the bullet did not penetrate the moose. It just creased the scalp, knocking him unconscious. And I'm driving through the Holland tunnel - the moose woke up. So I'm driving with a live moose on my fender. The moose is signaling for a turn, y'know. There's a law in New York state against driving with a conscious moose on your fender, tuesday, thursday and saturday. And I'm very panicky, and then it hits me: some friends of mine is having a costume party. I'll go, I'll take the moose, I'll ditch him at the party. It wouldn't be my responsibillity.

So I drive up to the party and I knock on the door. The moose is next to me. My host comes to the door. I say "Hello. You know the Solomons". We enter. The moose mingles. Did very well. Scored. Two guys were trying to sell him insurance for an hour and a half. Twelve o'clock comes - they give out prices for the best costume of the night. First price goes to the Burcowiches, a maried couple dressed as a moose. The moose comes in second. The moose is furious. He and the Burcowiches lock antlers in the living room. They knock each other unconscious. Now, I figured, is my chance. I grab the moose, strap him onto my fender, and shoot back to the roads, but - I got the Burcowiches. So I'm driving along with two jewish people on my fender, and there's a law in New York State ... tuesdays, thursdays and especially saturday.

The following morning the Burcowiches wake up in the woods, in a moose suit. Mr. Burcowich is shot, stuffed and mounted - at the New York Athletic Club, and the joke is on them, because it's restricted."


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