It has been almost two weeks since my last blog and I am delighted to report that the house is still standing. The last fortnight has been very hard work. The new sofa was delivered with hard cushions, which we were informed would have to be sat on for many hours in order to be made comfortable. After many laboursome days, evenings and nights, consisting of backbreaking work, we have finally made it nice. The poor dining table has been left neglected as a result, with us eating all meals in front of the television. Storage Wars, Swamp People, Vinnie Jones Presents Russia’s Toughest Jobs… Sky, you are spoiling me with your quality broadcasting.
We have a very nosey neighbour. Every morning that I leave for work, he stands by his window, nose practically on the glass, his arms rested on the side. As I walk down the street, in the direction of my work, his head and neck turn to follow by path, the rest of his body remaining motionless. It is a little scary, and I would admit to being freaked out by it, if it weren’t for the fact he does it to everybody else who walks down the road. How do I know he does this? I spy on him. The spy has become the spyed. Mwa ha ha ha.
It came! The sofa came! There will therefore be no need to steal a car and perform a real life Grand Theft Auto mission to steal a sofa from a warehouse.
yes, that is a can of Raid insect spray you can see in the corner
This week I have been off work. Claire has been in work. Therefore, I have spent a lot of time on my own, moping around indoors. It is much stranger being on your own in a house than a small flat, where I used to live.
We still haven’t got a sofa yet, so I have been watching TV from the dining room table, on uncomfortable hardback chairs. My viewing has been mostly rubbish from the hundreds upon thousands of channels on Sky, although primarily I’ve had Storage Wars on. In sofa news, it is supposed to be delivered tomorrow, when I am back in work. I am optimistic, but be prepared for a blog, unleashing the bowels of bloody hell if it does not turn up.
Every male in the country, in fact the world, has been playing Grand Theft Auto 5 this week. Even starving kids in Africa managed to get themselves a copy. They traded in a goat at a local Games Station. I have been no exception. My copy dropped through the letterbox on Tuesday, along with a new television to play it on. The TV has been placed in the box bedroom upstairs, where no doubt sounds of gunshot, screeching tyres and various explosions have been heard for the past few days. I haven’t actually played it that much this week, despite my annual leave. When GTA4 came out some years ago, I would return from work at 5pm and play into the early hours of the morning, only stopping to eat or shit, often tactfully timing bowel movements to coincide with meals, so I could eat and relieve myself at the same time. It probably wasn’t the healthiest of things to do across an entire month, but I managed complete every mission and kill every pigeon, successfully joining the 100 Club. While I very much like GTA5, it doesn’t have the same excitement or addictiveness of its predecessor. The one thing which makes GTA5 better for me, is now I have a real-life driving licence, so I can appreciate the driving a lot more. I understand how that may come across as rather worrying.
Last week I blogged about Half-Job Wankers who never finish a basic task. The Sky box is still without telephone, although we’ve kind of given up on that and opted to order the channels through the website. The grass is yet to be cut. I don’t think it will be now as we don’t own a lawnmower. I am waiting until a neighbour complains about it, or a pride of lions take up residence in the vast savannah, before I start to worry. Technically that makes me a Half-Job Wanker. Oh, and most importantly, the smoke alarms have finally been fitted, by a nice chap called Jim.
Why is it that nobody can ever finish a job? Half-job wankers, I call them. Start a job. Get bored or encounter a problem and just give up.
We have no smoke alarms in the house. We haven’t since we moved in. If there is a fire during the night, I could wake up dead. Apparently somebody came out to fix them before we moved in. Judging by the state of the smoke alarms, it looks like the letting agency sent Mr Bean. Half-job wankers!
Then there’s the engineer from Sky. After waiting weeks to get Sky TV installed, an engineer turned up a few days ago. There was already a dish on the side of the house and all wired into the house. He had the easiest job in the world. Even an ape could do it. Did he install the box properly? Did he buggery. No telephone line installed. Therefore no ability to buy channels or movies, plus its apparently a contractual agreement that the Sky box is hooked up to the telephone line. No doubt when Jeff Stelling finds out that this is not the case, we’ll be the ones in trouble. Half-job wankers!
I’m even going to start on the grass outside our house yet to be cut. Half-job wankers!
Our new sofa is due to arrive next week and I’ll bet you anything it doesn’t turn up. Half-job wankers! Half-job wankers! Half-job wankers!
I am now in the new house with Claire. Newbridge Road is no more. Well, when I say ‘no more’, it is probably still standing, unless the ominous –looking cracks which were forming on the ceiling finally gave way, causing the flat above to fall into my old living room.
I have been very busy, hence the lack of blogging. Things are slowly but surely getting sorted and unpacked. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with some photos, taken just minutes before I closed and locked the door on Newbridge Road FOREVER.
On this website, you’ll find me blogging (almost) daily about everyday life, living in Bath, working with computers, and the occasional bit of football stuff thrown in.
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