The neighbours would have heard all sorts of shouts, grunts and moans coming out of Radge's hovel this afternoon. Unfortunately for me, there was no hussy being sired to within an inch of her lucky little life. No no.
I was watching Liverpool. They drew 0-0 with Fulham at Anfield. At ANFIELD. A frustrating flurry of broken down counter attacks, Robbie Keane doing a very good impression of a lost and wandering dickhead, Torres looking like Robbie Keane, no Steven Gerrard. A sad lot.
I'd looked forward to this match ever since my trip to Clonmel to see Denise got postponed. A day of nothing much, sipping coffee and mind uncluttered, loads of football to keep me away from myself.
Liverpool spoiled my idyll, the cunts.
In happier news, I picked up 'Lars And The Real Girl,' 'I'm Not There' and 'In The Valley Of Elah' last night in HMV for only twenty five notes. I watched the first in this trilogy last night. It's very good, Ryan Gosling again doing a fine impression of the world's best actor.
If only Keane could do the same in a football sense I'd be on my way to some sort of elation. Instead I'm sitting here praying the Rags don't beat Villa.