Today (and all this week) Kriglinsky and the Toady-off-nieghbours lookalike from the USA are in the office. I have managed to avoid them thus far but earlier today Squeakyclean Phil took Krigacuntlinsky down and introduced me. So I had to shake the cunts nasty hand. They went yesterday evening for a meal at a restuarant run by 'The chef to the England football team'. As it is a well known fact that footballers are epicures sans pariel.
I politely declined, even the thought of free food and booze would not drag me into meeting those swines socially.
Sunday had a quick go on the zeroing range, which is now out of the woods on the field. The competition was washed out, a real shame.
Oh and Tuesday evening did a plod on my mtb up Cofton (huff puff) along past the resr, to Hopwood, and up Wast hill (huff puff).
May do the same this evening.
What I am planning is to arise at 0300, drive to Tryfan. a quick sprint in my new light boots up the North ridge, and back to the office. Say, 2 hours there, start at 0530 in the dawn, 2 hours up, 1 hour down. 3 hours to Merry Hill. Should be possible.