Would you Adam and Eve it? We only bloody did it. We bloody won a match. Harry, you're not the wuss I've been saying you are (not to your face, obviously). Hats off to the Tottenham mumbler. I always knew you were class.
There was one downer for me though, I was on the bench as per frigging usual. Jesus, it's getting me down not having my shining talent recognised. Then there was Dele Bloody Alli. After thirty minutes he looked as if he was wading through treacle, so there I was jogging up and down the touchline, watching "Mr. Southgate" out of the corner of my eye and making it obvious to all and sundry that I was raring to get on the pitch. I also wanted to get on and mix it with those Tunisian central defenders who were wrestling with Harry. A sharp kick in the nuts from me would have put a stop to that, a professional foul if you like to call it that.
It was all a waste of time though as Gormless Gareth kept telling me to sit down because I was getting in his view. "That's my bloody intention, you cretin" I said. To myself of course, as I thought the better of it...for now.
Anyway, it was straight back to the hotel for an early night before return to base in the morning. Ashley Young and I tried to sneak out for a drink and maybe bit of how's your father with some of the other guests. We'd discovered that there was a bevy of Brazilian girls on the floor above us and we'd had a word or two with a couple of them in the lobby after getting back. They'd invited us to pop into their rooms and we were up for that, I can tell you.
To my anger, Gareth must have read my mind. Old big nose was patrolling the corridors making sure that we didn't get up to any funny business, so that put the kibosh on our adventure.
Message to England manager: Gareth, I've got urges to satisfy, you prat. Why can't you just treat us as if we were responsible adults?