It’s been a busy month, with work and training and adjusting back to the real world. After having been out on extended sick leave all summer with a back injury I sustained in late March. And there’s been lots and lots of football to watch and attend too, with my local team Strømsgodset fighting for survival in the Norwegian equivalent of the Premier League. They only need one more victory to save themselves from being relegated. And then we have Liverpool, with a packed Premier League program as well as playing in group A of the Champions League, there’s plenty of football to keep up with.

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Is there any better way of finishing a weekend of partying than going fishing with your best friend? I don’t think so. But what pisses me off, is this; We went fishing at around 8pm, knowing that we would have a rather good chance of getting something. We get to the river, and there’s heap of activity. Myself, I’ve never seen the river sizzle with so much life. During the six hours we were there, we’ve seen at least 40 fish surfacing just to show they were there. But did we get any? No, I’m pretty sure the fish just swam right in front of us, looking at us and making fun of us. Damn bastards! The end result, what might possibly have been the last trip of the year with zero fish caught. Better luck next year is all I can say. Ah well, birthday boy. Time to get some well earned rest. And my thoughts go out to my friend Scott, I hope the hurricane Ivan dies out quickly so that he can get home to his girlfriend and spend some quality time with her. You hear that Ivan, stop being such an arse!