Fistfight over a furby


I didn’t post last week as I was on the office Xmas do (raved till 3, Zoheb threw up down me suit). But as you can see from the table it’s still all to play for with 2 weeks to go (Martins gonna miss one so we will have a Five year old winning the league). Last night we covered Mullets (business at the front, party at the back), Christmas trees, a weird halloucigenic video on YouTube, Micky Flanegan and something else which escapes me.

Not much to rant about at the moment as I haven’t been watching much tele apart from Gogglebox which is probably the greatest show on earth at the mo (as the walking dog has finished till Feb). I know the idea of watching people watching tv sounds as inviting as removing you own appendix with a bottle opener, but honestly give it a go. Star of the show is Silent Bob, an emo kid who hasn’t said anything in the 10 weeks or so it’s been on, he’s just mesmerising to watch.


It’s the FP Xmas party tonight so we are going for curry, followed by some bird doing a turn in the bar opposite (probably banging out “I will survive” to a bontempi backing track) should be worth a butchers though.

One thing I can’t believe is that I’ve had a request for a Christmas present from Argos this year. I thought my days of stampedes at Collection Point D were a thing of the past ( one year I saw someone part the waves with an ironing board which made me think someone was gonna have a shit Christmas morning). And to make matters worse it’s a bloody dumbell set that has been asked for. How the cocking hell am I supposed to hoist a odd shaped 70kg box through a swaithing mass of drooling simpletons, who have left everything to the last minute and are punching each other in the face over the last furby in the shop.

And if anythings gonna ruin christmas morning it’s a disembowelled blood stained furby.