Broken Noses and Spilt Milk (well, Juice).

It’s been a mixture of emotions over the last few weeks. I’m beginning to think I know what it’s like to menopausal.

Last week I’d been getting annoyed with things. My brother had gone under my desk and managed to turn a bottle of juice over onto the carpet which of course I had to clean to stop him being late for work. Then I got into work and found an e-mail that annoyed me.

We’d received some work by e-mail. It didn’t have all the information we needed on it so I went and asked. It so happened that we couldn’t yet do what was required as we needed someone else to do something first, so I went home. I come in the following morning to find a reply to the person who sent the work that we could do it after all and it was now done. I was really annoyed cause it made me look a bit silly. I sent a short, to the point e-mail back and did what needed to be done when I could.

Last weekend Liverpool a had a great 4-1 win over Arsenal and than a 3-0 away win against PSV so that was good.

I was slightly bemused about the incident in Iran. For a start, I believe Iran was up to something dodgy. You don’t provide co-ordinates for a ship and then change them because it wasn’t where you wanted it to be. There were also complaints about British troops shooting up into the air outside an Iranian. That’s not something British troops usually do, and is also not remedied by having loads of people turn up throwing petrol bombs and specially deliverred stones at the British Embassy. There’s been a lot of talk about who won. To be honest, I can’t see who won myself, but I know that it was definitely Iran that lost.

We went into Southport yesterday night. It was OK night up to a point. We went to Maloney’s which is one of my favourite places in Southport, but we moved on. We winded up at this club that supposedly plays indie stuff. We went in and my brother went to the toilets. He came out and said that there was a lad taking the mick out of a white shirt and brown shoes. James goes and has a word with this lad, only a quiet one but the bouncers put their poles up their backsides and ejected them.

We went out and decided to start talking about it rather than walking away. The two other lads came up to us and my brother just said, “Look lads, it’s a misunderstanding, let’s just shake hands and leave it”. He shoot hands with the first guy and turned to do likewise with the other who headbutted him and broke his nose. I walked round my brother and said “What did you do that for?” to which he backed right back against the wall and asked me what I was going to do about it. Answer – we rang the police. They came and this lad ran away across a car park. We thought that would be the end of it, but while the police were still there the toerag came back and tried to get in the club again! What a moron. The police put him in their car and questionned him but my brother decided not to press charges. Personally, I’d have made sure he couldn’t even get a job cleaning toilets.

His mate kept on coming over trying to mitigate his actions. “I’ve only known him today and he’s a good lad”. Obviously. “He’s come up from Devon to ride BMXs”. Oh, well, that’s OK then. “They do things differently down there, they don’t know how things work up here”. What, they don’t know the difference between right and wrong or even know what assault is?

I’ve been a bit depressed myself today. I think part of it is down to my knee. At the moment work is boring and frustrating and the only things I look forward to when I’m at work I can’t do cause I’ve hurt my knee.

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