So, England v Italy in the quarter finals became a wake, rather than a celebration. With four to two against England after penalties, the party-goers that had gathered to cheer the nation on to soccer glory instead discussed the failed tactics and utter idiocy of the team leaders. In other words, it was the usual thing after the cheered for team loses.
I ended up chaperoning two girlfriends who didn’t want to watch the footie either, and we sat upstairs in the office playing music. I will be polite about their tastes, since they were our guests. I also had a pointed remark or two about ‘Col and the girls’. I shall take my revenge for that. I’ll let him clean the dusting of crisps, and the clutch of beer bottles and cans on the table.
Cans and bottles that make my man a bit on the swishy side, but not too bad. Neither of us has drunk much, yet we and the rest of the guests have still consumed a large chunk of the beer that Mark brewed earlier. That one was a success, apparently. Mark is already talking about doing it again – if he can get to his dad and have him make another order.
I think more of it will be consumed as the guests drown their disappointment, so we’ll see if tomorrow will be one of those sleep until nearly dark days for certain people. Unlike yours truly who of course gets up with the crow…
The girls have gone down to administer field dressing to the injured prides of their boyfriends, and I’ve been trying to quickly install Ubuntu on one of my machines, but for some reason it just goes to shit, so I’m muttering and swearing about computers. Again.
That should teach me to start installing at a party. I get so optimistic. Oh, it’s just starting the process, then it will take care of itself. Then you sit there for an hour staring at a slowly creeping gauge as the installer works – only to find it botched it at the very end so you have to remove it and start all over again.