Two reasons I felt like this, one was the act ot fishing with just a quivertip as a rod, but secondly failing to get the point.
A visit to the now internationally famous, but secret bullhead venue resulted in the lowest of the low. Just one Bullhead and much lager aided laughter from Keith at the other end of the phone.
At least I was spared the crowd of kids and mums experienced by others at the venue. However for company I had a canoodling couple on an afterwork (and no doubt clandestine) parked car romp. They were undoubtably held back a bit by my presence as no steam appeared in the windows, despite the drizzle.
Heres my monster...
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