As sharp as a marble, as thick as mince or as green as I am cabbage looking, that’s me. Not the sharpest tool in the box. But, as we where out biking in the Peaks on Sunday, with the guidence of Sponge, Lindsey and Stella, we came across the house of the bloke who invented the widget. It’s something to do with beer tins and giving good head, but whatever it is, it’s made him a quid or two, so he’s obviously not quite as thick as cart grease. Whenever I go to Yorkshire I always coming back a bit wiser.
The farmer’s daughter is now the wrong side of 30, or is that the right side? Whatever side, it was a night out for the farmers and wannabe farmers like me. I reckon the Southern food thing is catching on up here, well it had that night. There was a lot of plate and not a lot of food, nice though. I had to top up with skinheads on a raft when I got home. Happy birthday lass.
Been getting an ear bending for not getting around to Paddy’s to sign those replica lids. Sorry, but it’s been murder at work and barrow jobs, a 30-hour day would cure the job.
I’ll get the calendar up next week. The first race is end of March in Portugal (as long as I get an entry), then mountain biking in Wales, the Cookstown and Thruxton. Or that’s the plan. It’ll be gospel next week.