The day started for me, Jez (best man) and Jim (my bro) at 7.20 on Saturday morning. Yes, really, 7.20. Dave came and kidnapped Jim and me and Jez picked up Rob on the way. We only got lost once on the way to the paintball centre, which is pretty good considering how crap a navigator I am.

We arrived at the centre at 9.15 raring to go (well, knackered and creaky).

We got started at around 10 ish and we were straight into the action. I didn't see how the rest of the gang did but I got hit in the thigh pretty soon in the first game.

The second game, known as Speedball was fairly terrifying. Played in a small clearing with only tied up stacks of metal barrels for cover, this was indeed a frightening prospect. I got taken out by Dom with a hit to the leg and my own brother hit me twice in the arm. By this point we were all really getting into it, getting too sweaty and spending far too much money on paintballs.

Other personal highlights (and lowlights) were getting hit in the family jewels from some distance. This took me down for a few minutes and left me with a rather unpleasant feeling for the next hour or so. Michael also took one full on in the cajones, so he can understand my pain. I commando crawled most of one map and held out in the dead centre with only 30 balls left. My head was hit around 5 times in this round.

The final game was the one that created the biggest rush though. The attacking team had to storm a white van, remove a plastic carton and place it into a double decker bus which was heavily defended by the opposite team. After a few fruitless minutes being pinned behind the van, John laid down some cover fire and I foolishly went for it. I was hit around 5 times I think. When defending the van, I took the most painful hit of the day - in the neck from about 15 yards. It looks like a love bite now. This is the story I told Jules and I'm sticking with it.

So that was paintball, knackering, sweaty, tiring, expensive but most importantly, a bloody good laugh.

We drove home for a quick three S's and then went straight out again to hit the bright lights of Shrewsbury. Thanks go out to the Mercia lads that could make it, it was a long way to come for a short length of time but you made it count in the right department. By the time you all left, I'd had about 9 drinks, including a triple vodka with a splash of coke, cheers Matt!

After a quick stop off at an old man's pub for a shot of paint thinner, it was off to the legend that is Flares. Saturday always seems to be old slapper night in Flares and we weren't disappointed on the night.

The dance floor was packed and after some kerazy dancing and some threats of ending my brother from Dom, it was time to head for a burger and home.

One ridiculously long wait for a taxi, we arrived home just after the three mark. A twenty hour day that won't be forgotten soon.

A special mention to Jez who looked after me during the night and kept me from being stripped naked, tied and bound and pushed in the river Severn. Also a thank you for taking the photos which can be seen here.