The Training Camp

No updates for a few days because I've been residing at my training camp (aka The Inlaws) up in Carlisle, revising and preparing for my CIMA exams. Scott has this image that its like the forest-dwelling shack in Rocky 4, and I'm focussed like the big Rocky man himself.

Funnily enough, I'm writing this blog entry in a wooly hat after hours of sit ups and running miles through the trees. Sweat's pouring off of me, but I'm ready to crush those Commie exam invigilator bastards if its the last thing I do... Their defeat could well be the catalyst in breaking the whole Soviet-style CIMA global state apart.

Just stop Apollo from taking the exam before me.


The Prediction Was 66% Correct

The prediction was:

"We're bound to lose 1-0 to a last minute penalty, after a terrible game, and thoroughly lacklustre Oxford performance. It will rain and be bloody chilly too."

1-0 loss. Terrible game. Lacklustre Oxford performance. It pissed it down too. I should do horoscopes.