It has been unbearably hot today. I know that many countries across the world have to deal with these conditions but at least they prepare for them by installing air conditioning in their offices, taking siestas and just generally adapting to it. Us Brits are used to shit, muggy and damp weather all year round. Besides which, we love to moan about the climate and this heat wave is a perfect excuse to do so!
Anyway I have found the best way to combat this extreme heat…
Firstly dig a hole about 20 feet deep, get inside and bury yourself. There are problems with this method though, in that it is hard work (especially in the heat) and you will probably die.
The second solution is just to walk around in your underwear, or better still, nude. Like the first idea, this one poses problems also. You are at risk of being arrested and your boss, friends and granny may not take kindly to it.
I decided against both of the above ideas and have just been drinking loads of water and I mean loads. I have been drinking water like Mr. White drinks alcohol. I must have visited both the water dispenser and toilet at work twenty times throughout the day. I actually feel good for it too. A bit like a well hydrated camel who has just filled his hump.
As well as the water I have also been on the fruit smoothies. I have given up on the Innocent brand as they’re simply too expensive, besides which I can’t find the Strawberry & Banana flavour anywhere! I am now drinking Sainsbury’s own brand. Dan recommended these to me as they are just as nutritious as the Innocent ones and at less than half the price, meaning you can have twice as much!
Ice lollies help a lot too. On the way home from work I bought a box of Mini Milks. I haven’t had these since I was about four years old. They’re just as yummy as I remembered them. The white flavour is especially good. I am (quickly) working my way through the whole box. Probably not as good for you as the water and smoothies are, but they are so nice. No wonder all kids are obese nowadays with these to eat.
From day to day I come across lots of PCs with problems. I saw one today which was infected with spyware that had caused the default homepage on Internet Explorer to change.
The webpage was a bit weird really. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. It appeared to have a woman play-fighting with a dog, which must have been her pet. They had probably been playing on a hot day as she had taken off most her clothes. In fact they were all off.
She also appeared to be very hot and sweaty. My guess is that she had a temperature. There was another picture of her being given some white medicine, probably for her fever. She didn’t seem to like it that much as she had it all on her tongue and was trying to spit it out. If you’re given medicine you really should swallow it, trying to spit it out isn’t going to do anyone any good, however nasty it may taste.
It was very weird. I don’t think I will purposely go looking for any more of these pictures again, there was something that wasn’t quite right about them.
I managed to get through football yesterday without causing any further damage to my hamstring. Unfortunately though, I was unable get close enough to Simon to break his skin in order to find out if he has a metallic skeleton like the T2000 his fitness resembles.
In the evening I went into Bath with Mr. Watkins in his new car. We went for dinner in Garfunkles, a beautiful restaurant I haven’t been to in absolutely ages. It was unbearably hot inside the restaurant as the seating area had glass walls and ceiling, it was like a greenhouse and because of the heat we sat outside.
Sitting behind a row of tall, black metal bars it felt as if we were animals in the zoo although Watkins informed me that we were in fact on safari and the people outside the restaurant were the animals.
We both had BBQ Chicken, a meal I commonly associate with trips to Garfunkles. It was as good as I had remembered. My complements go to the chef.
After the meal we drove out of the city towards The George pub for a riverside pint. Mr. Watkins somehow lost his bearings and we ended up driving around in circles for almost an hour. By the time he realised where he should be going, time was getting on and we drove off to the Showcase Cinema in Bristol.
Like Garfunkles, I haven’t been to Showcase in almost a year, ever since Watkins ploughed his car into the back of another motorist and wrote off his own vehicle.
We watched the computer animated movie Over the Hedge. Like most computer animated films that come out nowadays, Over the Hedge has an all-star cast which leaves the viewer thinking “I know that voice! But where is it from?”
Over the Hedge was no Sexy Beast but it was certainly worth going. It is one of the better computer animated films I have seen in recent years. Any film with comical animals is always guaranteed to do well.
All in all, a good evening, just like the good old days.
“I am a crazy, rabid squirrel! I want my cookies!“
This morning I had to make another trip to the rubbish tip. There was an item of furniture at my old house which required removing and placing in some landfill of an ex-conservation area.
Along with the furniture I took a huge bag of junk from the garden containing bits of wood, scrap metal and an old hamster cage. This bag had been outside for months and after gathering a considerable amount of rainwater, fucking stunk.
I was at the tip, lifting the sack of crap out of the car when I noticed brown liquid pouring from a hole in the bag. The brown fluid could only have been one thing – six year old dried on hamster urine, which, having been mixed with rainwater had turned back into a liquid.
Last week it was filthy, rotten bin juice. This week it’s ancient hamster piss. What hazardous waste can I look forward to coming into contact with next week? Caveman semen?
Anyway, I had better leave. The T2000, AKA Simon my football coach has insisted I join him for a kick around this afternoon in the park. I told him about my dodgy hamstring but, like Mr. White and pubs, Simon doesn’t like to be told no.
He thinks my injury was caused by not preparing myself adequately and has told me that he will make sure I warm up this time. I think he is planning on making me run until I vomit like David Beckham. If I do need to puke I will stand near to him.
This is a very quick blog, mainly because I want to get it uploaded before midnight in order to continue the recent tradition of blogging daily. :o)
Tonight I went out on a social night with work colleagues to The Raven pub in town, a place I have never been to before but think I will certainly go to again. The atmosphere is nothing special, neither is the building work or choice of drinks. What The Raven pub can pride itself in is its selection and quality of pies.
Think about the best pie you have ever tasted and then think of it being even better, they are just beautiful. I am sure I can persuade my friend Mr. Watkins, the South West’s chief connoisseur of everything pie to go with me.
After munching on all our pies we all headed off to another pub where we just sat and talked long until the evening about work, football and whatever else people discuss in pubs. I made an escape around 11.30ish to find a taxi. Not having any transport or wanting to walk back home alone for fear of being arse raped meant that I had to be driven.
When I go to town on a night out I normally order a taxi. This evening, not knowing when I would want to leave and also not having the certain danger of a drunken and abusive Mr. White I decided against it. Ordering a taxi at 23:34 on a Friday night is just pointless, especially after a music event which made the streets of Bath even busier.
I joined a massive queue of drunken people all using the taxi rank barriers and each other to keep themselves from falling over and smashing their heads on the pavement. I had only drunk a small amount (I rarely drink in excess – honest!) so was able to observe their strange behaviour like Louis Theroux in one of his documentaries nd when a bunch of lager filled louts came stumbling by shouting and singing I wasn’t scared at all…
OK… I’ve finished this blog and it’s 00:16. I’m putting down the blog time of 23:56 though. Let the daily blogs continue!
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
