All Washed Up
On Saturday, I decided I'd go out for a light jog before a night out in Camden. Being as my running shorts didnt have a pocket, I could only hold one thing, meaning I had to make the ultimate choice: Powerade or Ipod. Naturally, to keep me sane for 3 miles, I opted for the Ipod.
This proved to be an awful choice as the heat on this Saturday afternoon was sky-high, and by the time I reached the top of Avon Road I was ready to collapse. But next to me, I saw an unlikely aid appear. 4 lads in a Corsa with a Super Soaker. Perfect, they'll shoot me, cool me down, and I'll be ready to go, and they'll think they're causing me to get all wound up. Here we go, I thought... Except it didn't happen. I looked at the passenger in the eyes as he realised how I was shrivelling like a prune and double bluffed me, instead choosing to leave me high and dry. The bastard. As I carried on slugging it home, I had to admire his dedication what he was doing, even though I was probably as red as the car that was so kind as to not soak me.
Then the car came back round, and he shot me in the face with it. The bastard.
Over and out.
P.s. yeah, not been blogging much recently. I've been playing a LOT of Fifa. More to come this week...