Kick off in LDN and at Old Trafford

Dear patient readers,

Just over a month since the last update must make this the least updated blog in cyberspace.

I don't remember what I did the first two weeks of August, but let's guess it was rehab after Tour de Suede and work so that nobody gets disappointed.

Over the last two weeks the following has happened;

The Ashes is over, after weeks of cricket England stood as winners! During the second day of the last game I was with work at a mall to have Friday lunch and hand out flyers. As we dined and wined, I got frequent and excited reports from Frenty that England was playing fantastically and that he left work to go to the pub. Very frustrated I was jumping up and down in my seat, and as soon as lunch was done I grabbed a load of flyers and took off to hand out flyers in the perimeter. In all honesty I did hand out a flyer in the pub whilst watching the game.

The following day we decided to have an all day cricket experience. Hence, I showed up at Frenty's at 11 with a bigpack of Becks. We loaded them in a cooler packed with ice and parked our arses in the sofas for the rest of the day, leaving only to take a leak (We figured having a bucket by the sofas would be a bit too much). After six hours of cricket and the takeaway downed I passed out in the couch at 18. Fab sports day.

This months new word is converted to a sports chant of the month; English cricket fans at the Aussie crowd; 'We all came with a backpack-You had a bowl and chains!' Muahahahahaha

The yearly kick-off with work was, thankfully, in London this year. About 50 people took part. This of course meant full days of presentations and powerpoints and evenings of dinners and drinks. The first two days went by pretty quietly, in fact yours truly won an award and it was not the debauchery prize like at the last kickoff. In hinesight I probably would have, but prizes were handed out before the final night.

Final day we were given different scetches to perform later at the dinner. Without boring you with what we do for a living, my group decided to do an American Idol imitation. The Hoff, Paula Abdul and myself as Simon Cowell in the jury. One of the contestants was a smashing girl from Dominican Republic posing as a stripper. 'Hell Yes' from all of the jury and we won the skit contest without question :-D

After the price ceremony the music and dancing got started. When 'Sweet child of mine' was played a fab four with rock star ambitions jumped the stage and played the song with imagined instruments. Lead guitar hero - yours truly of course. Star of the band was our Welsh drummer who jumped off his chair on stage, into the crowd and kneeling played a surprising guitar solo on the dance floor. Class. Supposedly all of the skits and the imaginary instruments act are all caught on tape. Still to be confirmed.

After the music died out it was all of a sudden up to me to find us a club to go to. Luckily I had been in the area before and led the troops to the bar of a nearby place. We crowded the bar and the real debauchery started. I was never in the bar but was never without a drink. Our kind president bought Champagne that was sprayed all over the place. I remember spraying Dom Perignon with our Sales Manager whilst the president was still signing the slip. Full out swinery within hours as myself and a female colleague spat champagne on eachother and poured and sprayed the rest all over us. Soaked with champagne, a gold medal around my neck and with my shirt unbuttoned further than stylish to say the least, I managed to pick up a girl. I still don't understand how that happened.

Managed to get a cab home with, apparently, two colleagues to start with. I only remember one. Impressively I was the least drunk person in the car. Had to stop the cab to take a leak before we got off at an off licence for some much neded food.

Now, crashing home at 4.30 is not so bad had it not been for the fact that I was due at the office at 8.45 to get in a car to Manchester and Old Trafford for the Man U v Arsenal game. Proud of myself I left the mobile on, so that if I would not wake up from the alarm, Frenty could call me. Luckily I woke up when the alarm went off. Seven missed calls from Frenty was easily explained as it was on silent mode. Genius.

It was a Motley Crew that met up that morning. Can do no naming for this one so lets call them Colleague T, H, D and P. T is the Welsh drummer, just to put that in context. H did not know where he was or why, P the driver, was still sleeping at 09. Frenty and I unsuccessfully tried to find an off licence that would sell us beers.

We made it to Manchester in record time after almost crashing twice. I passed out for a good hour whilst T and Frenty talked their heads of about Man U. We had tickets to the Europa Lounge so we were all suited up, looking much better than we felt upon arrival. Luckily, in the executive suites, booze is included in the three course dinner. We won the quiz with a moderate use of Google on our blackberries and got to meet both Van der Saar and Darren Fletcher.

To the game itself then; Great arena obviously, very good game, Rooney scored and the crowd cheered. As soon as Wenger stood up the crowd shouted 'Sit down you peeedofiiiiile', hilarious.

As the masses crowded the streets on their way to the tube we had more drinks and dessert in the lounge. Very executive.

After a six day streak including a bank holiday where I armwrestled Yankee friend Tom on an outside pub with Frank Lampard sitting next to us in his car, by winning forbidding him to support Chelsea, it was a hollow-eyed week in the office. Unfortunately I had to meet with loads of clients and tried my best to keep up appearances, promising myself that it would be a quiet weekend.

Yesterday I dragged myself to Fulham to go pad hunting with Frenty. Within an hour with an impressively hung over agent we found a class place smack down Fulham in an old Edwardian mansion house, fittingly named 'King Edward's Mansions'. Big place with great cricket couches. Moving in date for the classy bachelors pad will be October 3 so now I am officially homeless for two weeks.

Of course that called for celebrations and as we were close to the White Horse, that was a given. Alfbow, Erik and Tom joined. Later at 3 Kings, Sweden played a world cup qualifyer against Hungary. Whan Hunbgary equaled the score to 1-1 and the exstatic Hungarians chanted RIA, RIA - HUNGARIA we got pissed off and instead chanted CLEAN, CLEAN - CLEAN MY HOUSE. Much appreciated.

To this point today I have been able to put together three words and have managed a total of two thoughts. Phew.

See you in about a month then, wish me luck!

P