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Weekends like that don’t come along too often you know. Friday unexpected top piss up. Saturday cheery game of golf, Old Firm game and a phone call giving me a tip for a 8/1 winner at Chepstow. Sunday welded to couch with three packets of the best dunking biscuit in the world - Fox’s Golden Crunch.

So first, Friday night. The plan was a quiet pint with Ms B after work. Bumped into a bunch of pals I haven’t seen for about ten years. Guinness, Drambuie and kebab. That’s the short version.

Saturday I awoke incredibly hangover-free, incredible really. Played a cheery game of golf with my mate and got back to the pub for the Old Firm game. Great mix of Tims (Celtic fans) and Bears (Rangers fans) and just a word on this. 

There are undoubtedly a percentage of both supports who are mad wi’ the bigotry but the vast majority support their team and hate their rivals in the same way as City and Utd, Portsmouth and Southampton fans hate each other. So don’t believe everything you hear. 

Anyway it was great fun and the lack of hangover meant the Guinness slipped down easier than Jordan’s drawers. Then came the highlight of the day. A call from my sister who works in a call centre. Someone’s pal whose granny lives next door to a wee bloke whose buddy lives near some stable or other gave him a tip on the 3.30 at Chepstow. 

We all know the rule with tips. You or I put money on the damn horse and the only time you hear it mentioned in commentary it is preceded by the adjective “back marker”. Not this time gentle reader. A score on the nose and a 8/1 winner. Who would have thunk it?

Actually managed not to get too slabbered and treated Ms B to a top nosh at a fantastic Indian restaurant. And I got my reward when we got home.

 
 

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Sunday was just chilling personified. Ms B still reeling from my unusual behaviour on the Saturday night (i.e. I lasted longer that 3.2 seconds) made a fantastic fried breakfast. 

2 fried eggs
3 top quality sausages
3 slices of smoked bacon
1 slice of black pudding
2 potato scones
NO BEANS
Mug of tea
Just dunt get no better than that people.

Anyway welcome to international week troops. We all know by the end of the week we will be qualified orthopaedic surgeons as the Owen “membrane” story takes up every back page.

As it stands at the moment I couldn’t care less. A weekend that involves a top piss up, an unexpected lift at the bookies, some sweet sweet lovin’ and the perfect fried breakfast has to be savoured.

Oh and apparently someone asked what a munter is. Here is the definition from the Oxford English Dictionary

Munter: See Vanessa Feltz

I trust that clears that up for you

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