It’s just about eight o’clock so I suppose it could all go horribly wrong in the last four hours, but so far, this has been a first-rate Saturday.

First up, I discovered that my latest attempt to turn £10 into £1000 from betting is still ongoing. Some NBA team beat another NBA team in the wee hours so I woke to find my account was now in proud possession of £50. A personal best. I really am that bad at gambling.

Next up, the postie delivered my copy of Random Acts of Writing, along with a lovely letter from the editor.

img_0206The actual publication itself has a nice, indie publisher sort of feel to it. I don’t want to use the term pulp because it’s better quality paper than that, but it does have the feel of something that you could roll up and stick in your pocket in a bohemian type way, maybe replacing an old, battered Henry Miller or a collection of erotic memoirs, before heading off for a croque monsieur.

And there’s a nice sentiment on the inside page where they encourage that the magazine be left in a public place when you’re finished reading it and send them a picture of it. I’m planning on buying a few extra copies to do just that.

So, after getting my morning chores out of the way, the early afternoon was spent reading the mag from cover to cover.

I was in two minds about going to the football this afternoon. First, my mate, Jude, wasn’t going so I’d be on my lonesome. Second, it was bloody cold. Third, Alloa have been woeful this season. In the end, a guilty conscience got the better of me and so off I went.

Surprisingly, in the first half, Alloa were excellent and found themselvesimg_0205 2-0 up just as I was reaching the head of the pie queue. And then, at half-time as I was enjoying the standard pie / bovril combo, they announced the winner of the 50/50 draw and, lawks-a-mercy, I’d only gone and bloody well won £120!

I’ve been buying 50/50 tickets for just over a season or so and I’ve been had the ticket numbered one higher than the eventual winner, but I’ve never scooped the prize before. Given that the prize can range from £75 to £200 depending on the number of tickets sold, I can officiallly reveal that £120 is better than a boot in the bawz.

Second half, we weren’t up to much, Ayr eventually equalised and just as I was expecting someone to pick my winnings from my pocket, we got a well dodgy 88th minute penalty to pinch the game at the end.

And then, just to round off the best Saturday of 2009 so far, Tesco’s has knocked £3 off a bottle of Black Label.

Top notch.

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