The last home game of the season

On Friday I brought home an invitation from Portsmouth Football Club saying I could go to the last home game of the season for £1, and bring a pet adult for £10. This was too good to miss so we sauntered round to their office at the allotted time and got in a queue where I saw Teddy from my class and at least 1 other from my school. Having got the tickets, we delivered 4 more tubes and some seedlings to Erin who was just getting back from swimming. Jof has bought a very large candle-lantern thing to go in the garden during Puddleparties for only £37, cheap at half the price.

At Zero-hour we joined the throngs of fans heading to the stadium where we met Ansah, LittleMax, all the Teddies and several others from my school who had had the same idea. We were near the Derbies who were safe from relegation and had many balloons and inflatable guitars and so forth: many were wearing pink dressing gowns and they threw a blow-up sheep to each other and made complicated hand movements and rude gestures at us.

The seat boings up if you don't sit on it so that is why I fell off my own chair many times. We all sang many songs, my favourite was the Der-der Der-der song because I could remember the words: one of the Derby players was called Wayne Kerr because all the Pompies shouted his name and booed him every time he got the ball. Many bad words were spoken in the stadium but not near us really, our bit was full of kids, so my vocabulary hasn't increased.

At one point we were waiting to take a free kick when a drunk man from the crowd jumped over the fence and bimbled out into the middle and tried to take the free kick for us. He was escorted off and 3 large stewards in orange tops met him at the side and told him he couldn't come back ever. It did make everyone laugh.

I was a bit short to see past the people in the row in front and haven't necessarily got a comprehensive understanding of the game but it was a groovy experience, especially for only £1. The goals against us and the fact that Bristol won made us go down a division, we shall play next year in the 3rd, against luminaries of the game such as Hartlepool and Yeovil.

As soon as we got home Jof said don't look in the dining room, so I did. We have finally killed a mouse. After months of setting traps and getting nothing we put the poisoned blue barley out for them and they came back night after night to feast upon its deadly goodness. At last we have outwitted a small rodent. Looking back, it's obvoius that the Milton Mouse Massive have been having pest parties and rodent raves for ages, we'll know next time.
Then Bud ran to the pub for the PuddleDaddies beer festival; they consumed much Vitamin Beer in a display of bravado and bibulosity, and talked about ships and football again, for that is all that 2 of them know about. In retaliation for this wanton act of independence, the PuddleMummies have booked - an afternoon in a trendy cafe eating cake and bintering. Bintering is the female equivalent of bantering and Mr JoniBobs is proud to have got this word added to Roger's Profanisaurus.
Bud was still home in time for bath fizzer night and then I watched Torvill and Dean win 6.0 medals.