Andrew Cotton

Monday, 16 January 2012


Painful isn’t it. Bit like last month when a complete stranger walked up to me outside the Boots on Falmouth high street and for no apparent reason apart from I’m slightly ginger and dashingly handsome punched me so hard in the face he knocked me clean out. I spent the night in Trelisk Hospital, Turo which is where my sister was born and ended up with 6 stitches in the back of my head and 5 in my face, ruining my plans for a future modelling career.
Surprisingly the Police weren’t that interested when I informed them about my scenario as I wasn’t parked on double yellow lines, speeding or involved in any other minor motoring offence and I left Cornwall l with a feck off headache, concussion and slightly confused about human nature and why me being knocked out by a fist to the face wasn’t classed as an assault by the local constabulary, but why would it.
Anyway none of that has anything to do with the amount of pain I’ve endured over the weekend which started early Saturday morning with the above photo and a road trip planned for great waves. 24 hours later, minus my van which is in a garage somewhere in Galway plus what I can only describe as a wacky race around Ireland we arrived at our surf destination. It was pumping and I got another kicking but no actual body harm was inflicted. I won’t bother reporting it to the police either there wouldn’t be any point.

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