Right, my life has gone down the sh1tter, I've been on the biff forever so the TA are throwing me out, civvy job's gone west, splitting up with the chick, if the dog died I'd have just enough material for a country and western song. (If he had died, it would have been cheaper, I've just had a Â£1400 bill for his vets fees after the little sod ran out in front of a car.) But I've got my ticket to the Army/Navy on Saturday, and the physio says I ought to exercise a bit... so I'm walking to the game. 80 miles give or take from Gospit, so cough up you bastards, and donate to Hols 4 heroes via the usual. Starting at 8 Thursday morning, hoping to hit twickers for lunch. If you see a burly bloke limping along mit a small ginger dog and a ratty old Berghaus bergan, wave. Even better buy me a pint. edited to add... I'm not splitting up with the chick now, so that's a bonus!