Ah the trusty lads lunch. Pile three or four (borderline) adult males around a table, give them a decent supply of tea and lots of meat and you have yourself a decent lads lunch. We had planned to eat our own weight in greasily cooked meat today, we being me, Paddy and the infrequently mentioned big friend (look, I mentioned him all the way back when). That was until 10:30 this morning, when 105 minutes before I was due to be picked up I received a text message giving me a sketchy excuse as to why the big, unreliable, oaf wasn't able to attend. He claimed that he had too much to do in the morning and he wanted to watch the football at 12:30. What a poo brain. Yeah, poo brain is a proper insult. So as I result my Saturday was spent without a lads lunch. As was Patrick's. Poor Patrick.
As a side note I would like to take this opportunity to tell Patrick that I love him, he's adorable.
And on that man loving note I am going to cut your daily blog disappointingly short, I've got to go and learn knowledge for exams :(
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