I wasn't very happy about being woken up at 2am. Language schools are now the heartbeat of the Bournemouth economy and students from all over the globe converge on the town each summer.
Hearing rich Arabic tones shouting 'come back you fucking prick' is just briliant, isn't it? This is what our international friends learn and take back to their respective homelands. That one phrase, an almost laughable linguistic titbit for export, annoyed me. I was awake now and had work in the morning. Thankfully it was jovial or as friendly as calling someone a 'fucking prick' can be.
Our motley crew from Sainsbury's Castlepoint played football later in the evening. Since our run of defeats, we've started training and things seem to be slowly improving. There is more cohesion and a spirit amongst the camp is growing. It's 'Clarks: The Re-match' next week so hopefully we can show those shoe sellers a thing or two after our narrow defeat last time we faced them.
It's up at 6.30am to get to Sainsbury's Christchurch tomorrow. I don't mind the long journey. I suppose it gives me a chance to read more about jailed musical impresario and apparent nutjob, Phil Spector. I love the way these types of book describe the ease in which famous faces hone their talents and become successful. 'He picked up a guitar' and then a few chapters later they've taken over the world. Lucky bastards.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
[color=#99ddff]Interesting post! thank you for sharing this information. armchairsanddeckchairs.blogspot.com really got under my
[/color] [url=http://nuscin-online.info]skin,[/url] [color=#99ddff]bookmarked... Keep up the good site...[/color]
Post a Comment