Never Judge A Book By It's Cover

This weekend I was left to train by myself, as Norbert Slowgrove was on a weekend Stag "do" in Skegness, The Silent Assassin was otherwise engaged and The Manc Midgit was bed ridden with man flu (makes a change from sofa ridden with a bad knee).

With the weather being so miserable I decided on a run rather than a walk and did a big (for me) circuit around Great Bromley / Burnt Heath / Lawford / Manningtree / Little Bromley. A bitterly cold, dull day with nothing much to report, so on to more interesting matters.

Strolling Bones Team Manager Andy Rudd gave me a lift in his new Jaguar XKR sports car at the weekend. He pulled up dressed in his Hugo Boss suit and drove me around the lanes overlooking the Stour Estuary, until we came to a huge house on the outskirts of Mistley. We waited at the electric gates which slowly opened, whereupon Ruddski drove slowly up the long shingle drive, stopping only to say hello to his gardener. I was given a quick tour of the house before being told to leave (he'd caught me with some of the family silver in my pockets).

So, never judge a book by it's cover. Just because Ruddski turns up at work in his tatty old Skoda, dressed in a hideous yellow tank top and his Manningtree Comprehensive School (circa 1976) trousers, it doesn't mean he hasn't got a pot to piss in.