Voy Por Ustedes

Now then people, I've managed to tunnel out of hospital and made it home - many thanks to the courageous work of the resistance without whom I'd still be strapped to a hospital bed - I thought I'd just knock out a quick update on what's been occurring before my Horlicks grows tepid.

So obviously I managed to get myself into a bit of a sorry condition over these past few weeks culminating in what I can only describe as a hazy half-conscious presence last Thursday at my father's funeral where, like my Dad, I was present physically but in all other respects I was elsewhere.

In real terms I feel I had less oxygen in my lungs that day than you'd find in the lower atmosphere of Beijing at rush hour and I do apologise to anyone who may have spoken to me that day and offered me their condolences only to be met with a blank stare from my milky blood shot eyes. You may have assumed I was just upset, the reality I'm afraid was I was just unable to pay attention to anything anyone was saying.

Over the next week or so now that I am at least 80-85% human again I will set about contacting everyone who has been so supportive these past few weeks. I may not have been verbally able to convey my thanks last week, but it has been very much appreciated. I may also set about making some sense of these past few weeks' occurrences.


Elsewhere in my little world despite being home now, this little episode will probably require one or two lifestyle changes and vast quantities of coup and casserole. I will almost certainly have to ban walking. I'll leave that sort of thing to Ian Botham. I may have to abandon any further drinking sessions that cause three day hang-overs and the loss of one's eye-sight. I may even have to consider eating more vegetables.

Essentially I will take on the life of Granddad Boswell from the old Carla Lane sitcom 'Bread,' with or without the budgie. I have been reminded in no uncertain terms that I'm not as young as I used to be and of course when one becomes too old to hunt for buffalo, it's time to stay back with the women folk and make necklaces and I'm OK with this. It sounds fun.


On a brighter note Mexico have just given France and absolute slaughtering. I hear there are thousands of French onion breathed infrequent bathers slashing their wrists in disgust on the Champs Elysees as we speak. More on the World Cup later. In the meantime, some Horlicks. Thanks you all again, I'll bid you good evening.

Labels: Football, Nonsense