Rangers lost.
Sorry Rangers.

Ug.

Ok, I've decided to drop the Nephilim from part 2, (Gulag).They are far too obscure a set of heroes to be used and I can't think of why they would want to travel from Iraq to Russia.
Well actually I had a couple of ideas, but they were all crap so they are binned. Simple innit?

I'm afraid it's just Von Struck and his band of disillusioned SS in a Gulag with... well I won't go into that in case anybody gets the drop on me.

AND I've Frank Delaney to sort out with some Soldiers of Fortune to take on the corrupt Burmese military.
Right I'm off, UEFA Cup Final in a couple of minutes and I'm for Rangers... which going on my track record for supporting the winning team in these competitions, is not good for Rangers.
Bah.

Thursday morning, I'm just contemplating hitting the sack.
The 400€ turned into 500€ for the bikes. I should have known the wife and kids were going to rip me off. Ah well, it's only money right?
How can anybody quantify the happiness of a child?

Quite easily actually but I'll stop right there before you, dear reader, start thinking I'm a heartless... Mmmmmmm.

Well, no more posts now from me until at least Wednesday next week. I don't think the brain will be up to anything after the festival so it all stops until then.
ALL OF IT.
Every thinking process besides swallowing, chewing, communicating in a very basic manner and listening to music stops forthwith.


Ug.

ps. Forgot evacuation of bodily... oh never mind.
Ug.

Tuesday afternoon.
Mmmmm, what to do what to do...?
Well actually I've got loads to do, mow the lawn (again), buy the kids new bikes, (a quick 400€ gone there) and then put my winter tyres on (which I should have done 6 weeks ago but didn't get around to it).
Actually I'm just going to mow the lawn again and let my wife sort out the bikes, that's too much of an attack on my wallet for me to be there.
It's right up there with a trip to the dentist for a long, slow Root-canal or an appointment with an African Witchdoctor for some un-anaesthatised circumsion.
I just don't like to be there as my lifeblood flows into the hands of other people, simple.

I think I'll put a few words down about Frank Delaney. He's the main character in a story about a man fighting to unearth proof of American POW's still being held in Vietnam, two years after the war is finished.
I'm writing it with Tee, (Teresa of THAT synopsis fame) and it goes thus; I write a passage, Tee writes a passage, I write a passage, Tee writes a passage, ad infintum... well until the story is finished.
It's a pleasing dalliance and it's nice to get stuck into something more meaty than song lyrics.
The baddies in the book are the CIA (obv.), the Vietnamese communists and the military regime in Burma. The latter was an unfortunately timed choice of villain because Burma has just been on the recieving end of an almighty cyclone that has claimed 10,000 lives. So at the moment Burma isn't really the ideal ogre because the whole planet wants to send aid and assistance, (and rightly so). However, given time, the fickle demon Public will forget their plight and Burma will go back to being one of the Evil Empires of the world again, sadly.
Good for the story, bad for the world, does that sound callous?
I hope not.

So now you know. American soldiers left to die by their own government, Vietnamese communists wanting to sell the men back to America, the CIA trying to hush the transaction up and an escapee and survivor of the camps, with a rich backer, standing in their way. Oh, and a couple of hot babes to sauce it up with. Sounds good to me, especially the sauce bit.

Catch yer tomorrow, just in time for the Rockhard festival... boy that's gonna be hard.
Reg :-)

Good grief !!!
Is it a whole week since my last entry? I can't believe how life seems to wizz past me like a drunk stranded on a merry-go-round.
Well, what's happened?
A lot and none of it is good.
Firstly, Liverpool lost to Chelski on the Wednesday. It was a close game, well actually Chelski were better in the first half, but we came back in the second forty five and played the better game in the extra time too.
Ballack was awarded a penalty, Frank Lampard took it and scored, meanwhile Didier Drogba scored two very good goals. We answered with two of our own from Torres, (of course) and Ryan Babel but it was all too late and the Blues won.
The next day was Father's Day in Germany. Father's Day over here means all the Dads, (in fact all the blokes) go out and get whammoed. So, not being one to buck the trend, I did exactly that. Unfortunately my inability to flake when I've drunk too much led to complications later on in the evening and after making a complete buffoon of myself in the town, I misplaced my mobile phone... my expensive mobile phone with all my tel. numbers and nice pictures in it.
Gutted.
A great day wrecked by not recognising the danger signs and going over my limit, again, like I do every time I go out with the lads.
Bah.

On a slightly more positive note, my letter hasn't been returned yet but it is still early days.
Fingers crossed, eh?
"All is not lost" said the General to the scout, "We'll 'ave 'em at Little Big Horn..."
Ah well, tara.
Reg :-(