Blood,Breasts and Stuart Pearce

Three men injured last night...
A smartly dressed Pearcey.
A few goals.
A few cheers.
Many tears.
A lotta blood.

Just another night in with the lads:(

So despite failing to win I relished every one of the ninety-odd minutes, pity we didn't stomp on the Dutch heads, but as sides go, they're not too bad a team to go down to.
(Glo losing her last remaining marble)
I was though, a little miffed by Pearcey's fashion faux pas....Blue suit instead of usual fighting attire of tracky bottoms. Must have been trying to instill fear into the lads by wearing such garb. Love him dearly though..... the nutter:)

Talking of nutters....The F.A. are really giving me the pip. They KNOW who they want so why not let the rest of us numpties know. I'm telling ya, all this is driving me to orange juice. For pity's sake the whole Euro thing kicks orf fairly soon and the boys, bless them, needa leeda. You know another thing, I wouldn't be the least surprised if 'Arry sadi NO!
And neither would I be stunned if some Foreigh Johnny took up residence on the bench. It's a baffling old game.

Cooking tonight and being served quite late.
Sweet and sour vegetables.
Baked chicken breasts.
Thin noodles.
2 Pancake rolls.

And no pud on account of a late lovely lunch.

Gorgeous day weather wise, I went out without a vest.

Cheerio All:)

By the way..I have another loaf rising. Nigh on dusting the fluorescent tube it is. Horrible thing. Tube that is, not bread:)