My dad's been away all weekend. It was a shit laugh for me, but he seemed to enjoy it. He had a gig at an agricultaral college on Friday night and then drove to Leicester to do a DJ set with uncle Ross. Sounded like a right mission when he was telling me about it, cos one of the motorways was closed and there was traffic, and they were late. I was comparing it with when I couldn't sleep properly cos I was too tired - really annoying!
Early the next morning he had to get up and fly to Madrid, I wasn't allowed to go because I don't have a passport (the only reason). He had to fly via Barcelona and he's done nothing but whinge on about how shite the airport was...no signs, no staff...different terminals that aren't advertised properly...really long queues. Once in Madrid, though, he and Ross had a belter of a time - apparently. He arrived back late Sunday night to the disappointment that his car had been broken by mam. He's been on the phone to the people at something called 'Ford' today - and they seem to be able to fix it on Wednesday. Means he won't be leaving me alone to go and playing stupid boring golf for a while anyway, haha!
He's doing loads of stretching at the minute, and keeps telling people on the phone that he's come out of retirement again for football. Sounds like a load of shit to me, who wouldn't really like running around chasing balls? It's, like, the best thing ever!
Went round Dolly's for a bit yesterday but she just lashes me these days, pure scratches my face. Knacks. Then uncle Monty pure stood on my head yesterday: all in all, I've a 'ruff' weekend folks. boom boom. Till next time...