I was awoken this morning by Mr. Hobart yelling at me. “Massive c**t!” and “Lazy bastard!” were two of the profanities thrown at my sleeping head along with his fist. Of course, Dan isn’t that psychotic, he was quoting Sir Ben Kingsley’s character in the film Sexy Beast.
Dan did however want me to get out of bed and make him a coffee. Fearing Dan would start boiling water himself and accidentally burn the house down, I thought it would be a wise move to do as he asked.
Yesterday was a good day, albeit nothing much was achieved. The afternoon consisted of watching Maid Marian on DVD, the new episode of Lost, eating pizza from the local takeaway (Mr. Pizzarella, you have surpassed yourself once again) and playing classic Sega Mega Drive games.
Streets of Rage 2 brought back many memories and the synthesised music and dodgy sound FX played at high volume reminded me of summer days at the Weymouth Pleasure Beach amusement arcade.
After an hour or so of intense retro gaming, Hobart and I came to the conclusion that most Super Nintendo and Sega Mega Drive games were very erratic. The flashing, high speed graphics and migraine inducing sounds are enough to make anyone go crazy. Not to mention the bizarre gaming scenarios – a super fast blue hedgehog, collecting gold sovereigns and jumping on trampolines conveniently located in palm tress.
After a mini meltdown, brought on by Lotus Turbo Challenge 2, we watched the England/Macedonia game. That’s 90 minutes of my life I will never get back. All I heard from the commentators was the name Panda, probably a Macedonian and not in fact a panda bear.
After that game (and many other performances), I really couldn’t give a shit if Fat Frank Lampard, Rooney the Chav and Stuart Downing qualify for Euro 2008. I will shortly be buying a Northern Ireland replica kit with HEALY 9 ironed onto the back.
Upset, hurt and angry by England’s display, Dan, Mr. White and I walked into town. This is where a slight confession is revealed. Mr. White, if you are reading this prepare to get mad. As you were unlocking your bike, Dan and I decided it would be rather amusing to walk in the opposite direction, down a side street and avoid you. That is why you were unable to find us both. The joke was on us though as this detour took us an extra 15 minutes, a little pointless really.
Upon arrival in town we stood in a group outside Sainsbury’s like chavs, waiting for Simon to finish work. For somebody who is supposed to clock off at 8pm, he was annoyingly late. While waiting, the most violent battle broke out. Blood was spilt. It was like something out of West Side Story, only without all the singing.
The battle was all over where we shout eat. My personal preference (and one I knew Simon would back me on) was Nandos. White wanted a curry and Dan, not wanting to offend, sat on the fence and agreed to eat anywhere as long as we did eat (which we were not doing, hence his anger). After many nose bleeds and limb breaks, we all decided that Garfunkles would be the best choice.
Our fight outside Sainsburys bared many similarities to Streets of Rage 2
Garfunkles was excellent as always. After we had eaten and had yet another fight over the bill, we caught a taxi home and White disappeared into town to wash down his burger with a pint or six.
While back at my crib, Simon and I played a very entertaining game of Fifa 07. Well, very entertaining for me. I played as Barcelona against Simon’s Arsenal and beat him 9-2 (what the score really should have been in that Champions League final).
Simon was not happy with what he described as “shit and unrealistic game play”. Well, I like Fifa, mainly because I can score 9 goals against Arsenal. Simon is a Pro Evo man and will be bringing it round on his next visit. I have no doubts that when this happens there will be another 9-2 score line, but I will be on the losing side.
Yesterday, just after 6pm, a deeply sodden Daniel Hobart turned up at my front door. He had made the 2 mile journey from Bath Spa train station to my flat in torrential weather conditions. Mr. White also made a rare appearance. He turned up carrying the largest pizza I have ever seen. Its size was comparable to that of a monster truck hubcap.
Later in the evening, Mr. Johnny Watkins and Simon arrived and after a break for pizza and Frazzles crisps (Dan’s choice), four player GoldenEye begun on the Nintendo 64. White had already left at this point. Apparently drinking until you vomit bile is more fun for some people than a frantic evening of classic N64 action.
Mr. Watkins and Dan fueled themselves on Sprite, a wise alternative to Coca Cola due to the absence of caffeine. GoldenEye is a game which makes even the most docile person as frantic as a rabid dog on speed, therefore adding caffeine to the mix is not a good move.
I stuck to the Carling while Simon, the wannabe Theirry Henry, drank a whole bottle of red wine. Tut tut tut Simon, red wine may be good for the heart, the liver won’t be thanking you.
The GoldenEye session was followed by a bout of Fifa 07 involving Simon and I before the evening was drawn to a close.
No paparazzi!
My name’s Simon. I don’t have a drink problem
I didn’t have a good nights sleep. Dan was sleeping at the foot of my bead like a faithful dog, Watkins having crashed his car days earlier (for the second time in a year) was also forced to sleep on the floor next to Dan. One of the two buggers was snoring like a pig all night long. I originally suspected it was Dan and tried to record his grunts using the voice recorder on my mobile phone. When I got closer though, I found out that the noises were coming from Mr. Watkins, who quite relevantly calls himself “The Piglet”.
And that was my evening and night. Dan and I will shortly be going into town for a (late) breakfast, but not before I force him to write a blog of his own. Have a look at Daninthemix.com for his version of the events.
PRESS ANNOUNCEMENT:
In a slight change of events, Mr. “Dan in the Mix” Hobart will be coming to Bath this weekend.
His train is scheduled to arrive in Bath Spa Station at 1700 HRS on Friday 6th October 2006.
Anybody wishing to meet Mr. Hobart at the station should contact me for arrangements. Well-wishers are encouraged to bring flowers and chocolates for Dan on his arrival. Lynch mobs should bring the traditional flaming torch and/or pitch fork.
It’s about this time every year I get excited about a particular event on the video gaming calendar. Late September/Early October always signals the release of the latest addition to the Fifa series.
As an Xbox 360 owner, I was eagerly awaiting Fifa 07, all those teams and players in wonderful high definition. Last week I found out, to my anger, that the Xbox 360 version only includes 6 leagues and no Leeds. Talk about a half finished job.
I had to play as Leeds. Had to, and as Mr. Kevin Blackwell failed to drag The Whites out of the crappy Championship last season, I would not be able to play as my beloved team on the 360.
For the last week I have been pondering “shall I buy a PlayStation 2 and Fifa 07?” The PlayStation 2 version does feature Leeds. The only disadvantages are that it’ll set me back £100+, I already have a PS2 (albeit broken) and its pretty old technology, the PS3 is out in March.
Today, as I walked back from work I decided “I’m so wrapped up in the nonsense of life. If I want a PlayStation 2, why don’t I just get a PlayStation 2?” and that is what I did.
A 2nd hand PS2 with a 1 year warranty, component cable, memory card and Fifa 07 – £125. Some people may think I am mad, they would probably be right. Still, I’m happy, Fifa 07 is great. I just have to master it now. My current performances have been reminiscent of Kevin Blackwell’s Leeds United. Still in time I’ll get good, bring the PS2 into work and beat that ManU supporter 6-0.
This afternoon I did my monthly “big shop” at Sainsbury’s and reminded myself yet again why I should take advantage of the online delivery service. The whole shop was crawling with frustrated people pushing trolleys through grid locked aisles like cars on the M42.
As I rarely cook for myself and therefore require very little food in my cupboards, my shop primarily consisted of liquid based products, including 12 bottles of Lucozade Sport and 24 cans of Coca Cola, fruit, salad and a vast quantity of Muller yoghurts. See my trolley.
Muller yoghurts, bananas, apples and 12 bottles of Lucozade Sport.. All part of a healthy diet.
While on my travels up and down the aisles, I also noticed that Sainsbury’s were now stocking Christmas stock. *sigh* Too early, far too early. I won’t be getting my Christmas tree out for at least another 5 weeks!
Merry Christmas everybody! Ho ho ho!
I also found out that, with the possible exception of my friend Mr. Goater, all Sainsbury’s employees don’t give a shit about customer satisfaction. I was hunting around for some new pillows for my bed as the current ones I have are as flat as a witch’s tit. I was unable to find them myself, so approached a member of staff. He must have been 7 foot tall and 9 stone – lanky streak of piss. When asked where the pillows were located I as told “Up there near aisle 9, I think”. Basically a polite way of saying “Fuck off, this is a Sunday, I’m hung over from last night and I don’t want to help twats like you”
Needless to say the pillows were not on aisle 9 and I only found them by a stroke of luck when paying for my shop. Some thoughtful sole had placed them next to the checkout. God bless that person. I am sure it was you Mr. Goater, can you now do my shopping for me?
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.
