The Pirate had his big boxing event last week, so me and my mate Scanners caught the last flight out of Prestwick and headed Sarf to live it up in the big smoke.
Scanners is a former footballer who knows a thing or two about busted knees and sports injuries. She played as a regular for Hamilton Accies and was even capped for Scotland. Right up until she ruptured her ACL and needed corrective surgery to put her back together again.
None of this stops her from putting the bevvy away and we did knock back a few cocktails before boarding the plane.
The Pirate met us from the plane and whisked us back to his gaff. The rest is history.
After a day of helping put the ring together and shifting boxing gear time for a wee bit of shopping before getting ready for the main event. Bit of a shame that the on coming station officer didn't know we were there and complained about having “half naked women” in his room. Lucky man I reckon.
The boxing was fantastic!! an excellent display of sportsmanship. For me its a chance to wear a pretty dress, but as someone brought up with combat sport in the blood, I can appreciate a good fight. If you ever get the chance, you gotta experience it. Did I mention my pretty dress????
Next day the Pirates phone was ringing off the hook with “well done mate” and “top night geez” and so it was. It is a very slick, professional event and could rival anything the bigboys could produce. I'm very proud of him.
So we dispatch Scanners to her fella in Colchester and set about chilling for a couple of days.
We were due to head for Bruges for a few days, but the small matter of an exploding bloody volcano meant that that idea was up the proverbial.
We had a fantastically relaxed time in a cracking wee B&B on the south coast.
Scanners and I were due to fly back to the land of Jock on Sunday night. We were so convinced that the whole volcano thing was a wind up by the boys at the station that we didn't take it that seriously. Big mistake...... luckily Dave is not in need of the 1.25l bad boy and I am trusted with her care to make the journey north taking in ¾ of the M25 along the way.
Tonight, well tonight I'm fecked. I crashed out early o'clock last night and my planned trot round the town tonight hasn't happened. Tomorrow I'll run with the club, mainly to firm up arrangements with the late substitution to our Fling Relay team. My Maw, bless her, has bowed out. Right decision, but she's feeling rubbish about it.
You-know-who has decided to do the whole lot, as 400 miles is a long way to travel for 1 leg of the Fling. Crazy dude. And now he has to drive home again too. Aucht well, it'll give him time to become reacquainted with his one true love..... the 1.25l bad boy.
See ya'll on Saturday. Get yer kilts at the ready ;-)
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