Andy Murray is a poor, Scottish excuse for a tennis player. However, the glorious nation of the United Kingdom needn't give up hope, yet as on the horizon are 4 rising stars of tennis. Namely Alex, myself, Olle (a friend of ours) and Will (a boy we don't like but was invited to make up a decent quartet). We played 2 sets of tennis in pairs and after two hours of arduous and tense play, Alex and Will ended 6-2, 7-5 victors. As is usual for the victors in tennis games, they promptly fell to the floor as if grievously injured and wept salty tears of joy. Me and olle, actually, Olle and I (let's have correct grammar shall we?) also fell to the floor as if grevously injured and wept salty tears, this time of sorrow. All of us then realised that this wasnt Wimbledon yet, and that another group was waiting for the court so we sheepishly stood up and sloped off home.
Later that very same day (I'm now writing about the future as if it was the past, unless you read this tomorrow in which case I'm just writing about the past), we reunited along with other friends at yet another friends house to watch two large men beat each other into a pulp and that was fun. Haye/Klitchsko absolutely battered/just edged out Haye/Klitschko (delete as appropriate).
Talk later bbz xoxoxo
No comments:
Post a Comment