He always used to say 'Oh fucking hell, I hate going that fucking way'

Grovesy misses his ferry, and arrives in Swin four hours late. We wait for him in the pub, and five pints later I feel a little drunk. It's five in the evening and Coops and Student With No Razor have made a game of pool last an hour.

Our taxi driver is an old Jamaican fella, who puts a liberal sprinkling of 'fuck's or 'fucking's into every sentence he speaks. He asks me which route we should take into town, and when I name one he tells me that he hates 'going that fucking way', and then goes into quite a long rant about how, because it's a narrow country road, you can't tell whether anything's coming your way until it's too late. He sounds like a petulant child, and I spend most of the journey fighting to hold back laughter. I almost succeed, until he overhears a conversation between my mates in the back, and adds his own views on the subject of pulling and sex: 'You should fuck what ever you fucking can, whenever you fucking get the chance, because one day you won't be able to fuck anything, and you'll fucking regret it. It doesn't matter if the water's dirty, it'll still cool the iron.' By this stage I'm almost crying with laughter.

We have a curry, and go to a few bars in the olde side of townne. This turns out to be a good choice, the women are better looking, the bars are better, and, whilst it is more expensive up here, the beer is well received. Student With No Razor drops a bottle, I fuck up a flaming sambuca, and everyone gets angry with the 'Weakest Link' machine.

The clocks go back tonight. We spend our extra hour listening to Student With No Razor talk, and watching some remarkably sex-free soft focus porn on L!ve TV.

We nervously watch England's rugby world cup match the following morning. The score is far too close for comfort, and whilst we eventually win, we probably don't deserve to. The others get trains and coaches and ferries home, and I return to the house and crash in front of the television.

He always used to say 'I watch too much television'.

Remarkably, I actually managed to work on my writing this weekend. I finished typing up the changes to Curiosity, rewriting the ending to that particular story for what will hopefully be the last time.

I continued plotting for Eclipse. All of the scenes for the first story are now detailed.

And, I've given some thought as to what I will do for NaNoWriMo. I've decided that I will actually take part. I'm beginning to think that doing this on the same month that I earlier decided I use to detox -- swearing off the alcohol and caffeine for thirty days -- is probably not a good idea. Neverwell.

Later . . .