Jonny Versus the Ball of Fire

Have finished my second 12 hour shift in two days. Am very tired. So instead of going on about something, I will just whack in some pictures of Mr Jonny gazing into a big ball of fire, for no other reason than I needed an image to fill up some space.

These particular photos were taken at an ancient ritual to lay homage to the Great God of Fiery Things. Hence the fire. He was also ball shaped. Hence the ball. Jonny was to be offered up as a

sacrifice because he misheard the question and raised his hand

with the understanding that he was going to get free crispy duck.

It was down to quick thinking, questionable journalism skills and

his trusty penknife that Jonny was able to get out alive. "I'll never have Chinese food ever again" he cried, falling to his knees once safe. For it was through love of oriental dishes that caused this near fatal encounter with a little known Fire God.

And that is the story about why Jonny doesn't eat Chinese food.

Well, maybe that's not quite what happened, but its late and I'm

going to bed.

Although I really want Chinese food now...

Well, since the last update, which was when I was missing the football (Chelsea won, by the way. 2-1 to them, some beautiful football played, and a punch up at the end. everything you would want, really. And I was at work.) I have travelled to far off lands, new and scary destinations... well, that is to say, I went to London.



First off, I didn't get home from work that night until after 2 Monday morning. Was very tired after spending much of the shift throwing scallys out of the cinema. Little shits. How does someone become a scally? Do their parents take them to JJB sports when they have just learned to walk and tell them to pick out the most horrid grey tracksuit they can find? They should be wiped from the face of the earth. Or sent somewhere like Milton Keynes, where no sane person would dream of going.

Then, upon rising around mid-day on Monday, I hopped into a rental car and a few of us drove (well, I didn't drive of course, seeing as I don't have a licence) down south to merry old London.
Now, I have never been to London, and before this trip I would often say I didn't really fancy going as it was just a really big city, much like the rest and, sure, haven't I seen most of it already on the telly? But I was wrong.
Very Wrong.
London is AMAZING!!!! Its got all these big buildings, with lots of stuff, and it just looked so... big and.... brilliant! And the subway? It's like off the telly!!

We didn't really have time for sight seeing as the purpose of the trip was to see some bloke called Tom McCrae singing in this really cool bar called Cargo, but because we got a trifle lost after being in London for about 3 minutes, we abandoned the car somewhere in Tottenham (that's north London for all you who haven't been. I have.) and took the subway to Oxford Circus, and then to other places that I don't know the name of, but we did see the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben! Like off the telly!! Crazy.
The gig was good, although 2 bottles of beer cost me about £10. London isn't the friendliest place to the pocket.
Anyway, back to the car alright, back home by 4 Tuesday morning. Up and to work for 12 noon, then a mighty 11 hour shift takes me up to... now. Back in at 9.30 tomorrow morning. Until 10 tomorrow night. Oh well. We'll always have London...

A Slow Start to the Day

Well, Sunday morning has come and the head does not feel so bad considering i should have been celebrating yesterdays win with extreme prejudice.
See how dedicated I am to make this blog a success? My stomach is rumbling, I have no food in the house to speak of, yet here I sit, typing away so you people out there can... read about... me sitting here... ... actually, what is the point?
Okay, maybe I am just being really lazy, but I have a right to. The Leauge Cup final is being played today, but I will be stuck in a cave-like prison that some may call 'work'. On a Sunday. The Lords day and all that. Well, actually, Sunday is more Football day now, as that is what you are supposed to do - spend it in the pub watching and discussing the beautiful game. Not going to work until 1 o'clock in the bloody morning. Ho Hum, you pays your money, you takes your turn, as the old saying goes.
Anyway, I'm sure the day will go great without me, hope for an Arsenal win over Chelski.

A STIRRING DISPLAY

"RAMPANT IRISH CRUSH ENGLAND"

Ireland get their Six Nations campaign back on track with a record 43-13 win over England in their historic encounter at Croke Park.

It was a relatively easy victory for the mighty boys in green, England putting up very little resistance in front of the onslaught.

Lets face it - the English are crap. The Irish beat them at rugby, the Aussies beat them at cricket and the fantastic NORTHERN IRELAND beat them at football. Plus their beer is shit. There is a God after all, and English he aint.

I wouldn't say that this was the best night of the year, but it sure isn't far off it...

Simon is what this drink-laden fellow is called. First blog and all that, might not last but we shall see. Will try to post as often as I can, but you know how it is; work and what-not.

Anyway, I'm off to watch Ireland beat England in the rugby...