What a funny old week this has been, the temperature, without apparent warning, has rocketed from thirteen to twenty seven degrees centigrade in a matter of days and the tabloids have been searching  for headlines to better “Hotter than the Costa“ “Baking Britain” and “Hotty Totty.” It really has been a truly remarkable turnaround in weather fortunes and whilst it has been a joy to see blue skies again, it seemed to trigger a bizarre chemical reaction in me that culminated in an unprovoked and frenzied assault on a deck chair I didn’t have the brain power to assemble without perpetual comical collapse’s that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Laurel & Hardy movie.

As the week went on and the temperature rose, my mood overheated with it, probably triggered by a restless night on Monday as the RAF staged a fly past of Chinooks and Helicopters about ten feet above my house at 1.00 am in the morning. Don’t ask me what the fuck they were playing at, because I just don’t know, though there is every chance it is some sort of military practice for the Jubilee and Olympic celebrations that will be an ideal smokescreen for the major austerity fuck up the government are creating in our economy that is shrinking as I speak. Good to see we tax payers can afford these jollies from Odiham to Wallop every night.

Oakley CC: my refuge from the Recession

However, the assault on the deck chair, fully witnessed by my bemused neighbours, was a good thing, as such was was the frenzy of the attack, my mood has now eased, the red mist has cleared and I am now heading back to something like a normal human being going about my daily business. I even enjoyed myself at the cricket club this evening in the serene early summer sunshine, it is a place that is so idyllic, it is rapidly becoming  somewhere I can take refuge from the troubles of the world and all the bullshit that goes with it. We are at a time, where for many normal people who aren’t lucky enough to be corporate thieves, media moguls or bent politicians, the recession is a crippling and spiteful thing to be involved in.

The deckchair did me a favour really. Assaulting a corrupt RBS city banker, no matter how pleasurable, would without doubt, result in a criminal conviction and a possible prison sentence (sent to jail for assaulting someone who is party to theft that is making thousands homeless…oh the irony!) but the last time I checked, volleying a deck chair to the end of your garden and back would go largely unpunished apart from a revenge attack on your baby finger some months later. Not unless of course, some clever lawyers have set up a company called injuryfordeckchairs.com.

“Have you ever been kicked around your garden when it wasn’t your fault? Then injuryfordeckchairs.com may just win you the compensation you deserve……………….”