Bollocks. Big sweaty ones. Chelsea scoring in injury time has mildly deflated my evening (it`s 2:30am out here) but I`ve had an interesting night at the local pub watching the match with initially a nice japanese guy　(who`s name I won`t insult by trying to spell) but rapidly joined by a charlton fan with the most extraordinary accent (part cockney, part auusie, part thai) who joined himself to our conversation. He was already plastered before he started talking to me and got increasingly worse as the night wore on. Everyone thought he was with me which became enough of a burden to make me leave. The guy was a prick who admitted to having spent 4 months in Wormwood Scrubs for smuggling a kilo of Thai grass in and then pronounced a worryingly accurate description of japanese customs and the current price per kilo of thai weed in Tokyo (18,000 dollars apparently). Git.

Should`ve stuck to talking about Charlton - I was with him up to this point. I left halfway through the Bolton match (okay, I`m sad, I go all the way to Japan and make sure I watch English football, guilty as charged. It`s research for when I`m the England Manager. Honest) when he started leching with menaces on a delightful couple of Japanese girls from Yokohama (one of whom was off to New Zealand in a week, hence our chat).

I was ashamed to be English. Not the first time and surely not the last. I drink and get more chatty but I`m still the bumbling idiot I was when sober - why do some people change so much as to be nasty to people? Answers on a postcard. I`m going to bed chastened due to some idiot`s behaviour. Surely that`s not right.....?

I`d had such a good day as well.