Sean's Stories

Posted by sean on December 6, 2018 at 10:50 pm in Life In Bath, Me Vs. The World with No Comments

You know those horror movie sequels where the killer comes back for more, only in a more extreme way? Well that is what happened to me today, except this monster wasn’t a cannibal, great white shark or zombie. I was being targeted by Richard Branson…

You’ll recall my encounters with Virgin Media last month (here and here). This morning, the trouble came to my front door – literally!

In his bid to take over the world, or maybe just offer the residents of Weston an alternative to Sky TV, Dickie Branson deemed it necessary to dig up the path from my house to the street.

Unfortunately, as I use a mobility scooter, I would have been unable to squeeze past the deep gashes into the pavement. Unlike a couple of weeks ago, there was no alternative route, meaning Virgin Media had left me housebound. Nice to see that the company values the well-being of potential new customers and the general public.

To make matters even worse, the digger found it necessary to drive onto my garden path. This is private land. Never mind, this had all been organised by Richard Branson, who will do whatever the f**k he likes. Maybe I’ll trespass onto his private island. It’ll be a nice holiday. Somehow, I doubt that I’ll get away with that, though.

I did report these issues by ringing the complaints hotline. The complaints hotline was busy. No comment.

The advisor on the phone did not apologise for my distress. Was this a case of “Don’t say sorry, as this admits guilt”, or was he just being rude?

My concerns were escalated to the site manager, who visited my house. He was pleasant enough and even managed to apologise, promising that “it’ll never happen again”. No, I don’t think it will, considering the cable has already been laid.

Oh well. I’ll be sticking to Sky and not touching Virgin Media with a 10 foot pole. It says a lot about my feelings towards Dickie, when I favour a firm owned by Rupert Murdoch over his.

Posted by sean on December 5, 2018 at 11:34 pm in Christmas, Rabbits with No Comments

Posted by sean on December 5, 2018 at 12:48 am in Health with No Comments

I had my second hospital appointment of my annual leave today. While last week, I only had to go round the corner, this morning required a trip all the way to the Bristol Royal Infirmary. Bloody hell…

Upon arrival, I checked myself in with a helpful receptionist, who I managed to confuse by trying to convince that my name was, in fact, Sean and not Jean, as was printed on the appointment letter.

I was shown, along with Jean, to a very busy waiting room. A large whiteboard, with the names of various clinical staff, hung from the wall.

Coloured dots were stuck to the board, presumably to indicate any delays. Green for “Everything is okay”; yellow meaning “You’re going to be waiting a while. Best pick up a That’s Life magazine from the hospital shop”; with red representing “F**k! We’re on fire! An escaped lion is on the loose! Clinic is cancelled”.

I was reassured to see that, despite the vast amount of fellow outpatients occupying the waiting room, all the dots on the whiteboard were green. My confidence that I would be seen and home in time for lunch was shattered, when I realised that yesterday’s date was still written on the board. Surely all these poor patients hadn’t been waiting overnight?

50 minutes later, I was the only patient left. I was just about to switch all the green dots for red, when I was finally summoned into the doctor’s office.

All was going well, until I was asked to list all the medication I have been prescribed. I take so many pills, on a daily basis, that if you were to pick me up and shake me, I would rattle.

Therefore, given the fact I pop rather a lot of pills, I had a tough job in remembering everything I took. Claire was a great help, as we both kept shouting out the names of various drugs, as if we were on a strange edition of The Generation Game.

I escaped the consulting room and the clinic, but not before providing a blood sample. This time, instead of using a needle, my blood was taken by cutting the rear of my earlobe with a scaple. It’s amazing how much you bleed from that area, and gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “wet behind the ears”.

On the way back to the car park, I couldn’t help but enjoy some naughtyness in the hospital elevator. The child (as well as Leeds and Bath City fan) in me, had great fun, as the video below will testify…

Posted by sean on December 3, 2018 at 10:48 pm in 365 Blogs, Cooking with No Comments

One of posts I have been hoping to write from the 365 Blog Topic Ideas book, is My Favourite Recipe.

This evening we decided to make the most of our time off work, and do some cooking.

Unbelievably, despite this being our favourite meal to cook and eat, we haven’t done so in over a year. I know this because we have been in our new house for 368 days, and haven’t prepared the dish here.

Tonight, we cooked our favourite…

Cheesy gnocchi bake


  • 500g pack gnocchi
  • 200g cauliflower, divided into small florets
  • 250g spinach
  • 500g tub 4-cheese sauce
  • 4 tomatoes, sliced
  • 50g Cheddar cheese, grated


  • Heat the oven to Gas Mark 6/200C
  • Bring a saucepan to the boil, add the gnocchi and cauliflower, and cook for 1-2 minutes or until the gnocchi rises to the surface. Drain contents of saucepan
  • Cook spinach in microwave, according to pack instructions
  • In a gratin dish, combine half the cooked gnocchi, cauliflower, spinach and cheese sauce
  • Layer half the tomatoes on top, then combine the rest of the ingredients, finishing with a layer of tomatoes
  • Scatter over the Cheddar, season with black pepper (optional) and bake for 10 minutes until golden and bubbling

Posted by sean on December 3, 2018 at 12:25 am in Rabbits, Ventures Outside Of Bath with No Comments

It was my wonderful wife’s birthday last week. She was celebrating the big ’30’. Claire was complaining of being old. Nothing has changed. It is hardly like she transformed from Miley Cyrus to Jackie Stallone, as the clock struck midnight, on the day of her birthday.

Anyway, given the fact I am 36, I hardly think it is time for her to apply for an older person’s railcard – although I’ve promised her unlimited use of my stairlift and mobility scooter. Us old folk need to stick together.

To celebrate her special day, we decided to join her parents, in braving the gales and rain of Storm Diana, and go Christmas shopping at Clark’s Village in Street. Did I say we were “celebrating”?

Amongst all the outlets in the open air retail centre, was a shop which really caught my eye. Proving that age is simply a number and in no way a reflection of mental maturity, I simply had to take photographic evidence, that a business could share a name with my pet rabbit… and an empire of 57 million people.

Besides getting excited about shop-fronts, I am also able to gift some pretty awesome birthday pressies – if I do say so myself.

Look what I bought Claire. Can you guess who it is?

  • About Me

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    All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
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