Sunday, 24 June 2012
I’m Ross, a.k.a Andy and my friend Cotty asked me to produce a few words for his blog, so he can slack off from updating it himself for a couple weeks… I’m going talk to you about the recovery from our stag do in Barcelona last week, I can’t remember much, and what I can I haven’t come to terms with myself yet. 16 of us made the trip entitled ‘Barcelunacy’, and contrary to popular belief most of us made it back after successfully putting a financial rescue package straight into the heart of the economy. We felt we played a big part in stabilising the country allowing Xabi Alonso and co to concentrate on knocking France out of Euro 2012 (don’t worry Cotton he’s a famous kickballer, there’s a big ‘kickballing’ competition on at the moment) So I’m writing this from my bed, its 10.15pm on a Saturday night and those of you who have met me know this is an unusual place to find me at this point in the week, a week on and I’m still ruined, I’ve caught some stupid bug that’s kickin’ my ass, why me? I’m normally the one who laughs in the face of all nighters at Glastonbury, not this time, this time my numbers up! Yet everyone else was back to the grind within a couple days… Cotty swam the beach in under 8 minutes on Tues (B.S.D) Jonesy (last man standing) went to work after a 3hours sleep, straight back in the rhythm. A. Blake was running his boot camps and yoga sessions on Tuesday. I. Blake steadily worked his way through list of jobs his pregnant girlfriend had kindly left for him, he almost enjoyed it, same again next time Tam. Macca text saying he was enjoying a 4pk of Stella on Tuesday night. I gather Rim, Rob, Neil, Si, Horley, Turner and Lyndon(the quiet one) all integrated back into society with relative ease Only Josh complained a lot, of feeling anxious, vulnerable and shivery. The Bevans’ status is still unknown, I wrote their postcodes on their arms if found please return, we like them. So in conclusion I’ve decided I can’t handle it anymore and I’m hanging up my party hat……for now anyway.