Attack of the Ket wigs and I am in The London Marathon.


 

 

So Ket Wigs where do I start ? Now this isn’t the jealousy of a man who’s final hairstyle can only be a combover but what the fuck is going on with these Ket Wigs. Now we have all fallen victim to hair fashion crazes. I mean some twats were going clubbing the mid 90’s with bleached blonde hair. The even bigger twats were sporting the same look for their 40th birthday trip abroad in Benidorm but these Ket Wigs are now getting to a point where they fall into one of two camps depending on your type of hair.

Type one is the curly hair crew. The Ket Wig trend has been going that long now that curly haired genetics Ket Wig kidda’s are now looking somewhat like Ronald McDonald with their big curly bonces. This is nothing new though as Liverpools finest were sporting this hairstyle back in the day (See Phil Thompson below) My late dad even sported one in the early 80’s with his mates forming an orderly queue as my mum permed the lads and I would pop in and they would be sitting their in some kind of rubber skull cap. Perhaps I am confusing this with the “highlighting” trend ? Having never had a perm I wouldn’t have a clue how you go about getting one. Looking back having my mum in the front room (Painted brown it was the 80’s)  with a load of my dads mates and some rubber knocking about conjures up images that I don’t want to taint there late memory with so we will move quickly on.

Type two and your normal hair Ket Wig. These have now not been cut for that long that the “lids” are now bordering on looking like 80’s rock band Skid Row. I wonder if these lads have to spend a fortune on product like conditioner etc. Does it take them ages in the morning to get their barnets sorted ? Come on lads sort it out and give the local economy a boost and get down yer local barbers and get a skinhead and something for the weekend and no I do not mean three bags for fifty.

So walking back from “The” Asda this evening in the distance on the kerb were three lads. On closer inspection it was 1 x Ronald McDonald and 2 x Skid Row kidda’s on their bikes dressed in the uniform black with thankfully both hands on their handle bars and not the usual one hand down the front of their kecks scratching a bollock. Anyway one of them rode so close to me they pulled my Asda plastic bag out of my hand. I tweeted this before “Some Ket Wig fucker just knocked my shopping bag out of my hand whilst riding his bike. I feel like and old man of 76 tweeting this” I said to him “What the fuck you doing lad” but as I had my earphones in I obviously said this a lot louder than I thought judging by the reaction of a few people nearby. He shit himself and rode off into the distance.I would imagine these Ket Wigs are an easy target to grab but being a man of peace (giant shithouse) it didn’t come to that. Luckily my 6ft 3 beer monster frame tends to mean people avoid me. My record is fought one lost one. The one loss was in 4th year seniors. The fight would have been pay per view and billed along the lines of “The BIG battle” as it was Big Ste versus Big Fay !!! I got the first dig in and shattered my knuckle. He semi caught my twice and I then retired injured. We made up after like all good boxers. I say boxer I threw just the one punch and a poor one at that judging by my permanently disfigured knuckle I am looking at and will no doubt have arthritis in when I am 60. We agreed to say we didnt have a fight and well dragged into the heads office denied everything but they had a grass on their side and we were both suspended for two days. Luckily enough there was no collateral damage to my loaf, crumpets and multi pack of McCoys.

In  shock news the other day I got a magazine through the post and thought what rubbish is this. Imagine my amazement when I opened it and it was the acceptance magazine for the 2018 London Marathon. Having completed two marathons I said I would only ever do one more and that would be London. I had even forgot I had entered the ballot.  Just one small problem I last ran a gentle 3 miles on July 3rd after the June double header of the Port Sunlight 5k and 10k on the same day. Currently not even playing footy after an injury in early July which has been diagnosed as a possible achilles injury and had to pack in footy after a comeback attempt in early September. I have a date the specialist in late October which is now known as D-Day. D-Day will tell me if I will be able to start training for The London Marathon. Luckily if I am injured I can defer my entry for one year. What will not be so lucky if the D-Day news is bad news is my waistline. Already chunky its expanding even more due to my lack of exercise coupled with the fuck it I might has well have a bevy in the house as I have nothing to train for half empty view. A vicious circle if there ever was one so lets hope the news is good in a few weeks and I am hassling you all for some sponsorship as I attempt my third and final marathon.

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x x

 

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