Introduction
Another match between the whippersnapper and myself has come and gone, and let me tell you, it was a dire affair. But we'll get to that. Last week, I let you all in on the state of Miles's hair which was a cross between un-maintained privet and Gary Glitter's barnet. Well, the good news is, he went to the hair dressers. The bad news? It seems they did bugger all except take his money from him. Honestly, I don't know if they just swindled him out of the money or he just walked past the hair dressers and pocketed it. Either way, he still looks like the same grungy kid from the nineties as he did before.
Speaking of Grunge, Miles has been super busy practicing his favourite Nirvana songs on his many guitars (he has four. Lucky git). I have to say, for a good couple of months he has sounded like cats mating when he played, but now when he plays, I actually find myself recognising the songs he's attempting to play. So he's definitely making pretty good progress, more than I ever did anyway, so I sincerely hope he keeps it up, then I can honour him by insisting on being his lead vocalist. I sing like an angel...
He has also decorated his room. Unfortunately, his mother gave him full creative control so his room now currently looks like the spare room in Satan's house for when it's his weekend to look after his son. It's pretty much black with red flourishes including upside down crucifixes where his bed is situated. So I'm going to use this post as a bit of a public service announcement and state to my neighbours that if your cats go missing, just come to me and I will return them to you. They may be returned in more pieces than when you last saw them, but still. He has also had a new carpet fitted, which is beautiful. I have to admit I'm a tad jealous as the rest of the house still has the same carpets we had fitted when we moved in to the house... thirteen years ago! But hey, whatever! Who doesn't want a living room carpet that was used as the dog's toilet for the first six months of owning him? It doesn't really matter anyway, because soon his bedroom will look like Kurt Cobain's crack den. A bit like it did before. Not that I'm bitter...
Match Results
1. Miles- 197
2. Chris - 169
Summary
When I said this match was dire, I wasn't kidding. But it wasn't just shite for me, it was shite for the pair of us. We both rolled nothing, or at least next to nothing, for most of our rolls. So, in a strange, counterintuitive way, it was still a competitive match, simply because we were so mutually naff! Our scores slithered slowly upwards, like a slug on a brick wall, going nowhere fast. We were equally matched, in the worst possible way, all the way to the very last roll. All Miles needed was his Large Straight to win. And what did the little scamp go and do? Only get his bloody Large Straight! I was gutted, he was smarmy, and he levelled up the scores once again.
Standings
Chris 2 - 2 Miles
Final Thoughts
Well, it's level again. Miles is proving to be one tough cookie! I need to get my arse into to gear and take that boy right down to China Town! Hopefully I can make this happen. I can certainly get in a few extra hours of practice while he's fannying about summoning the Dark Lord or pretending to be the unwashed lead singer of a depressing grunge band, odour and all. Only time will tell if I'm successful...
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