Friday

My Good Friday morning tea drinking routine was shattered with #LateJunction.

Endon’s Torch Your House disturbed the peace shortly after 7am. I bloody LOVED it.

I went to bed the night before watching the All Is By My Side Hendrix film. Endon’s NOISE BLAST made Jimbo sound like easy listening.

A quite remarkable piece of music. It set me up for the morning work shifts.

tumblr was being as arsey as ever. Content looks crap from the front end. The back end is bloody awful.

I bashed a few more Colne Radio social cards, and scheduled them for the remainder of the day.

They’re not going to win any digital awards for Campaign of the Year, but I can turn them around in under 30 seconds.

And then you move on…

I wrote another BONKERS book-ish gym piece for Buzz. I find it hard to believe that the fools are still persisting with this folly.

Good Friday was then all about a His ‘n’ Hers gym and swim session.

Anna RULED the treadmill. I grunted on the weights.

Pretty in Pink came on the gym PA. I didn’t quite look the part with my yellow lumie lycra.

The pool was bloody packed. I had to wait in the racist UKIP spa to blag a spot in the fast lane.

Tidal charts were then double-checked, ahead of the shout of:

“To Mersea Island!”

ACE.

Wifey Bank a Holiday BONER

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The occasion was the Mersea Beer Festival. We cycled through Fingringhoe [yeah, yeah] and over the Stroud towards Mersea.

We both had fighting talking of an afternoon on the Porters.

I was a little parched when we arrived. A pit stop in the nearby tea room seemed like a half decent plan.

Tea and chocolate cake were enjoyed. iPhones came out. The sun went in.

“Do you really want BOOZE?”

…I asked.

Anna was as half-arsed as me.

And so we cycled all the way to Mersea for some BOOZE, had some tea, and then turned around.

Chin chin, etc.

We managed to cross the Stour and get back to the mainland as the tidal water was starting to leak through.

All aboard the #WeirdWiv ferry, innit

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I had the brainwave of stopping off at Rowhedge, and then hitching a ride on the first ferry sailing of the season. It saved an eight mile or so round journey.

Some gardening crap followed back at base. Daisy disappointed me by appearing on the other side of the garden gate.

The age of innocence is over for her šŸ™

A little bit of the Wolves Vs Brighton match, then Newcastle Vs dirty Leeds.

I remained sober for the rest of the evening.

I’m becoming a boring arse.

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