So happy here too!

Saturday morning - one look out the window - pissing it down - no pub. Down neighbour Andrew's - his ex had stayed overnight and a friend of hers was coming along. So I took down some toast, he brought out the whisky. "Eek you're drinking at this time?" from the girls. (But then, they had their own competition going - which was the ugliest team in the World Cup, so....) Well, say we: "Rugby without alcohol is like sex without a woman." Shuts 'em up.

And then we, in control, start making mistakes. Andre Watson doesn't know what scrummaging is. And they bloomin' equalise. Extra time!!! I cannot take it without another two stiff shots.

And then, finally, watching the scrum and saying "It's drop goal distance... he's going to take it, surely" And yes, they sent it back to God in the pocket and he kicked it sweetly, right-footed, over the bar. My flatmate calls him The God. I think God will do.

Coming for to carry me home....

the sunshine "lost this weekend" warrior