Ah Yes, The Old War.

It's now around 20:05 on Tuesday 13/3/12 and I'm back from the pub. I woke up this morning and had the sort of physical shock that told me it's no time to stop drinking alocohol. Since then I've been stoned since about 16:00 and I've just brought 8 cans of Kronenburg.

More words will appear here shortly. 20:10.

It's is now around 20:15 and I used to be a Traffic Warden or technically a Parking Attendant. Either way we are probably one of the most hated professions in the UK. In fact our only saving grace was that we used to wage war against Estate Agents. So when I saw these three human shapes in the darkness I knew I had to challenge them. The nigger in the sharp suit (Sam) barely looked up from the young Pakistani beardy weirdy Muslim couple that he was showing Charlies (Ratko Mladic) house too and knew exactly what to do. He marched me to his car, lent me a pen and some paper and allowed me to record both his "name" and his office address.

Assuming that "Sam" won't disappear into the ether I now need to contact his office. I could send them a strongly worded lawyers letter threatening to mount an expensive civil law suit if they continue to trespass on my property. Alternatively I could call them in to value my grandmother's property to find out how much a two bedroom bungalow with no street access is really worth. Of course the lack of access doesn't matter to the Whitgift Estate who are land banking. However if I receive a fair valuation we may well find that my grandmother's assets fall below the threshold at which the Crown will have to pay for her care I can then mount a lengthy and expensive civil case in a Crown court arguing that the Local Health Authority (LHA) has to pay for my grandmother's care. Unfortunately the Health and Social Care Bill 2011 has already been passed so LHA's don't exist anymore.

So anyway later tonight British Prime Minister David Cameron and US President Barack Obama will be trying to draw attention to College Basketball by giving the half-time talks.

Seriously I'd say it's like teaching a special needs class but there was actually a Special Educational Needs (SEN) teacher in the pub. After my father tried boxing me into a conversational corner and I brushed him off she got all professional which certainly shut her boyfriend up.

Anyway it's now around 20:35 and I think it's time to get Rancid or possibly watch the second half of a Channel 5 documentary about the Falklands war. All I know is the new series of CSI starts at 21:00 so either way we'll be (Ted) Dancin.