I went to Asda to do the “big shop”. Somehow I ended up spending £91. That may seem a lot of money; but amongst many groceries, I bought a load of new shirts for work, enough washing powder to last me 5 years, various other items of clothing (yes, I know it’s George), lots of expensive toiletries, and, best of all, Thatcher’s Gold cider – usually impossible to find in the shops.
In summer 2004, my sister went on holiday to Greece. While there, Greece won the European Championship.
She is on holiday in Spain right now.
In 2012, I am buying her a holiday in Cornwall, England :o)
My mum won a meal voucher in a raffle for a very posh restaurant in Radstock. The coupon had been sitting on the shelf, gathering dust, for sometime, and it was due to expire at the end of June. This evening, we went along to sample the delights…
The restaurants I normally visit include Frankie and Benny’s, Garfunkles and Nandos. This place was VERY different. For one thing, half the items on the menu I had never heard of. I know Quail’s eggs are supposed to be a luxury, but they actually sold quail – the bird that lays the golden egg!
The meal took ages to arrive, and all I had to munch on was a glass of nuts and an orange juice. The only alcohol they sold was vintage wine. I wasn’t expecting Thatcher’s Gold, but a pint of lager or even a Magners would have been nice :o(
The food that finally did arrive was amazingly presented – like Gordon Ramsey had put it together. The chicken meat was some of the best I have ever tasted. If any of my readers actually have chickens, please feed them corn – it makes the breast taste lush. Sadly, it was a case of quality, not quantity, and I was left hungry after my very small, but delicious, portion.
This has been done countless times before, but this latest Hitler video is great.
My dad asked me to make a change to his Sky account – (HONESTLY!).
I called them this evening…
First call I got his date of birth wrong – I got the month and year right, but gave the same day as mine (12th) – I wasn’t thinking and the Scottish lady scared me. After the first call didn’t go to plan, I called back a second time. This time I got the DOB right, but apparently I don’t sound like a middle aged man (how rude), so, yet again, they refused to help me! How selfish!
Luckily I’m not really committing fraud and can get my dad, the actual account holder, to make the call. It’s just that one of his major hates in this world is dealing with call centres; and as the purpose of the call is for my benefit, and something he doesn’t really understand, he’s not too willing…
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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