Watcha Peeps. It's onwards and upwards round these parts, I tell ya. At the start of the year, it went from bard to verse. Then I ditched the Shakespeare and I took some time out. It's an open secret that a 'rest' was forced on me by Jono, my trainer and I wasn't too happy about it. We nearly had some 'artistic differences', lets say. Or, to not put too fine a point on it, Jono nearly had some enforced 'artistic differences' with certain areas of his anatomy. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I have now retrained as a hurdler and last Saturday night was my third race in my new discipline.
As you can see from the brief posting below, I came fifth in my first race and runner-up in my second. Well on Saturday night I was back where I belong. Biggest night of the week at Walthamstow, all the lovely ladies done up to the nines, the smell of scampi and chips wafting through the air....and a lovely present promised to be from my current squire if I do the business.
There is only one option in these situations, one thing I can do. Run like the clappers, in the true spirit of Flying Frank Lampard (my hero) and give it everything.
Guess what.
I only flipping well won. What a night, what a result. I won. I burger-flippin, chip-frying, chilli-sauce pouring, salmonella catchingly-well won. Top of the pile, King of the hill. I'm back.
As if that wasn't enough motivation, when I got home, there was this lovely message (see above) from my good friend Becks. You might not know this, but he actually used to work at The Stow as a glass collector in his youth. Ever since then, we have become bosom buddies. I guess the seeds of our friendship were sown when we went for a really expensive slap-up chicken meal at a fancy restaurant. Always did have a thing for a Posh Bird. After that, we would meet up all the time, especially for me to give him fashion advice (although once I got it Sarong it was embarrassing). Anyway, we still keep in touch now that he is at Real Muttrid (Grrrronaldo is another good mate) and I was touched with his message.
I don't want to go into it too much, but there was a little embarrassing incident that happened at the weekend with me and the big man. You know how he was sick in the middle of the Ecuador game on Sunday? Well...guilty as charged! Let's just say we got together the night before and let our hair down, the next thing you know it was: one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, FLOOR**!
Hey ho, onwards and upwards got to go and do a celebrity appearance at Bluewater shopping centre with The Chuckle Brothers. Will let you know when my next race is!
Peace. Love. Woof.
Flying Frank
P.S. - A big shout out to my latest homeboy and Triple F (Friend of Flying Frank), Mr Ian H, who now joins the flyingfrank.com Hall of Fame with the other members. Keep spreading the FF love, Sir!
** David Beckham's lawyers have asked flyingfrank.com to point out that Mr Beckham did not stay up the night before the Ecuador game drinking Tequila and that this tale is in fact made up by Flying Frank. It was Bourbon.
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