29/06/05 Rainy Day

A shitty rainy day. God, the weather in Scotland is so depressing. Where has the sun gone? ha ha
My Saskia bet is looking increasingly reckless in the cold light of day. She's still the favourite to go. In fact the odds have dropped from 1.32 to 1.12 on Betfair,
(that means if I put £200 on now, my winnings would be only £24, and not the £64 I currently stand to pocket).
This is all fine and dandy, but the nature of BB is that they always look to engineer the unexpected and the scenario could change drastically before tomorrow.
They could muck about with the editing and do a total character assassination of Mr Maxwell tonight, should they see fit. Or somebody could just decide to leave voluntarily and the eviction may be cancelled. In short, there's too many random factors involved for canny gambling men like myself to get involved in. But 3 pints of premium lager was just enough to make me lose sight of this fact.
Anyway, on a more poignant note, legendary Bolton performance poet/comedian, Hovis Presley died very recently, and I'd like to pay tribute by including one of his poems on this here Blog, because I think it's great.

I Rely On You

I rely on you
like a Skoda needs suspension
like the aged need a pension
like a trampoline needs tension
like a bungee jump needs apprehension
I rely on you
like a camera needs a shutter
like a gambler needs a flutter
like a golfer needs a putter
like a buttered scone involves some butter
I rely on you
like an acrobat needs ice cool nerve
like a hairpin needs a drastic curve
like an HGV needs endless derv
like an outside left needs a body swerve
I rely on you
like a handyman needs pliers
like an auctioneer needs buyers
like a laundromat needs driers
like The Good Life needed Richard Briers
I rely on you
like a water vole needs water
like a brick outhouse needs mortar
like a lemming to the slaughter
Ryan's just Ryan without his daughter
I rely on you

© H Presley 1994

Brilliant, huh?
Apparently, in the North West of England, it is a very popular verse to be read at wedding ceremonies these days.
We were due to have a special 5s game last night to mark Gordon Cooke's final game before he emigrates to the good ole US of A, and then have a couple of ales.
Unfortunately he was too busy to do either, (he's leaving this morning), so that's that then...Farewell Gordon, and good luck, and thanks for all these bonecrushing tackles!
In a way, it's maybe just as well that I missed the beers, as I may have come home, switched on my PC and bet £200 that Martin Evans would buy a round before 2010, or something similarly ridiculous...