was in hemel hempstead today.
checked the score at 4:45, 0-0, thought 'ah fuck it, didnt miss much', then get a phonecall from mr bennett, asks if i know what the score was, then told me, i had to bite my lip to stop swearing infront of my 3 nephews. fucking magical.
cant get to chesterfield (more family stuff
but my dad said my pressies are big'uns
*awaits people using my own words against me, and makes it sound rude. which it isnt.* ), but i'll be there on saturday, mark my fucking words.
Same as, got home thought id better check the score, cue mass shouting and chanting of RORY FALLON!.