As serialised in the Daily Sod
25th August 2008
Woke up this morning and spent at least 10 minutes trying to scratch my
left legcrotch without much success.
Its been an up and down couple of days. I made the decision just before the game against Pakistan. It felt like such a relief to get the decision out of the way. The lift of pressure was almost immediate and it was so enjoyable to actually get on with playing the game and having fun rather than having the stress of turning up to nets every day just to see the prolific Dan Smith smash another ball back past me for four. I think that's why I actually bowled half decent against the tourists. It was also quite enjoyable playing with
young boysthe Chairman's XI. There's some guys in there who're gonna light up the Dev League for seasons to come.
Since I made the decision, and released the news I've had mixed reactions from my former collegues. My favourite comment was from Patto who said, "A big decision for one so ghey." I thought it was a nice touch of his to spell out the last word for me. Seeing as I only learnt the alphabet up to the letter 's', I thought he was talking about the food 'ghee' for at least a few minutes. Once he'd explained it to me, we both had a good laugh.
Back to today, and, well I spent a lot of time wandering around the disparate streets of CWLand, struggling for something to do. When I say wandering, it was more of a crawl. Once I find the bastard who stole my prosthetic legs, I'll beat the ****er with one of them to within an inch of his (or hers, lets not get sexist already) life.
Anyhoo, still no luck and the search goes on.
So, I wandered around for a while finding little to pique my interest. Sadly, my inability to read past the letter 's' meant that I got quite badly lost and to my immense surprise, I somehow ended up in a brothel. One which a similar orienteering malfunction had led me to be arrested in only months before. Fortunately, they do not discriminate there if you're deficient in the leg department and an enjoyable time was had.
After that excitement, I hailed a cab and fortunately he took me back to my
homeboxes. I checked the answer phone and I had a message. I dialled the answer phone only to hear the dreaded name 'Voltman'. Amongst the bizarre message that followed, I could only pick out the words 'Rentboy' and 'over and over again' before it was cut off. This mysterious message certainly raised my curiosity and I looked forward to gaining further understanding of what this could mean.
A bottle of PVA glue (I'd stopped in at B and Q on the way home) was then cracked open and I conked out for the night. I woke up in a hospital bed with an orderly pouring acetone up my nostril before display a large caked piece of white gloop - solid PVA glue in front of my eyes. I'd say never again, but I've been there before - haven't we all. So, I've booked myself some time at a clinic. We'll see what comes of that.
Still, I have to prepare for the next game for Pickford. I still want to enjoy the game, and nothing makes you smile more than knocking over a set of stumps.