Perfect Sense

On the bike today while L rushes off to Manchester. I’m owed sex apparently which is obviously the best kind of debt to be owed. I really must update the Standing Order or perhaps consider starting a Direct Debit.

My colleague and I try to get lunch in the Brunswick but it is rammed and they are not taking any food orders that haven’t been pre-booked. I do love the way they don’t look after their regulars. The backup option, and always a very poor one, is the Waterfall. Their only beer is very poor quality Doom Bar, which is a very poor ale anyway even before they get their hands on it. Lunch is a toasted sandwich.

L rubs it in my texting from Manchester where she is having lunch with Daughter and drinking Lees Christmas Plum Porter.

Birmingham City sack Gary Rowett, the best manager they’ve had in a very long time and who currently has them one point outside the play off zone. Makes perfect sense. At least that’s one less rival for promotion that we have to worry.

Then it’s dogging but, as L is in Manchester, it’s dogging without a beer at the end of it.

(Wednesday 14^th December)