Bear blog

We kicked it old skool last night.

Martin chose to wantonly forsake his wife and child to come and see us again. It was nice to know he's still alive and everything, but annoyingly his five balls is still better than mine.

Then because we hadn't got a room last week and it'd been a whole two weeks since we'd got the chance to throw things around, me and Alan were veritably mad for it and managed to drag out a couple of passable attempts at seven club three count and ultimates. It was a strain though.

And after that I thought it was about time the unicycle came out for its six month inspection. Lizzy lent me out her shoulder for a bit and then I stuck my headphones in and got hardcore about it. And after about half an hour of huffing and puffing and getting mightily pissed off with it all I did a couple of lengths of the hall one-footed.

And then once I'd caught my breath Alan and I gave eight clubs a bit of welly and it wasn't too awful. But by then my arms were all weak and feeble and my legs were a bit wobbly and I was a big sweaty mess and it was time to go home.

The hallmark of a good Monday night is having to have a shower before bed. And fair tuckered out I was, n'all.