Hero in a half shell ...

So tell me this? When someone treads on your foot on a train why don't they turn and say sorry? Why do they have to feign "Oh that wasn't really a foot" and look away. It's raining, it's packed, the central heating is on and Mr clumsy foot treads on my nu shoooz, he looks away, I huff ... the train grinds to a halt, he does it again ... "blap" straight on my tootsie ...

So what do you think I did? Answers eh, on the proverbial postcard.

It's another week gone, and we have some football at last. It seems like a lifetime since we took a thrashing at the Arsenal, but now we can concentrate on the Toons. No not Jessica Rabbit, but Alan Shearer and Craig Bellamy. I'm sure they would make a good alternative to Whilly Coyote, or Roadrunner, but what do I know.

I may be playing a bit of football tonight!!!!

Yes I know you all stepped back in amazement. I had a call on Wednesday from an old friend, Easton. Some of the lads are having a game of 5 a side over at Borough for old time sake. This is the group that used to play in Covent Garden a fair few years ago, and then spend all night in the Spot getting merry. I'm a bit worried that it's outside though. I can't see me wanting to run around in the rain, even if it's a good idea to start with. I'll have to wait and see.

I've just been reading the story in the Metro of that woman who spent £600 on a meal then got accused of stealing a spoon. Yeah, I can see it now ...

My tune of the day: Coming home baby - Mel Torme