There were some friends here, a little while ago and a text message came from Birmingham, favourite son was unexpectedly flying out to the already kicked-off THIEFA World Cup.
He's one of those forty-year old Mummy-dependents, on his second failing marriage, trapped in an immaturity undisguised by his beery blokeishness, his bloated, red-faced excess.
We were talking, here, the other night, about what we now call consumer choices - how you spend your money - and there has never been a time when I could afford to fly-out to Brazil, didn't matter how much money I had, I could never afford to do that. This guy also, with his mates, regularly flies to European capitals in order, bless, to get pissed and obnoxious. I blame the football, it is the bloke's equivalent of Because I'm worth it. Somehow, thousands and thousands of pounds are diverted from family budgets into the pockets of spivs, gang-rapists and a United Nations of foreign gangsters.
Today, two young British Muslims face lengthy sentences for having flown abroad, not to engage in the mass hysteria of footy, not to get pissed-up and shame their country but to risk their limbs and lives fighting an enemy which the British government was desperate, a short time ago, to annihilate.
By today's yardstick any Briton who fought fascism in the Spanish Civil War would be deemed terrorist and face durance vile upon their return. And let us not even consider the bizarrely incongruous judicial example of Old Queen Brenda having a knees-up with Marty Kneecaps, or the fact that no British or any other kind of Muslim has come anywhere near Marty's record of killing British citizens, men, women and children.
One would hope that, come sentencing time, Mr Justice Slag will say, Listen lads, fair play to you for wanting to have a go at Bashir Assad but, you know, you can't go taking the law into your own hands, you're not Tony Blair or anything. I'm gonna give you a suspended sentence, just as long as you swear to me, before Allah, peace and whatnot be upon his wotsaname.... that you'll step back from this Jihad stuff. Now off you go and stop worrying your parents and everybody.
But these young men are black-ish and they didn't go to Eton or Repton, they were never in the Bullingdon Crime Gang and they must, therefore, be punished for their youthful high spirits and idealism.
I am related neither to the lachrymose, neglectful, spoiled, ageing footybrat nor to the young Brummie Jihadists but think if I was looking, from among them, for brothers in arms, I'd have to think long and hard.