Yes, it’s a moaning blog today. This time I’m going to complain about two things which a lot of people really enjoy – Glastonbury Festival and tennis.
Lots of people have been raving about how great Glastonbury is. I appreciate how popular it is and can also see why people really like it. Not me though. Too many people. Too much dirt. Lots of noise. Being surrounded by thousands of dirty people, wandering around in a cocktail of mud and their own shit *, I would feel like a battery chicken.
* OK, maybe not human faeces
That said, many people no doubt think that I’m mad for travelling hundreds of miles to a football ground, only to stand on a terrace in the freezing cold or monsoon showers. They’re probably right.
The other thing I hate is tennis. It’s a crap, pointless sport. In fact the only sport worse than tennis is rugby. I hate the fact that during Wimbledon, like in any sporting event, the whole of the country goes mad and brings out the bunting like they are attending a BNP convention. I’m all for national pride and patriotism, but why get over excited when someone you never normally care about is competing in a competition he or she will most likely never win? Are you still with me? I think that rant did ramble on a bit.
Whatever sport England or Britain are competing in, the “fans” always seem to have the same degree of hope and expectation. Hope and expectation that will no doubt end in misery and despair. A “tennis follower” informed me today that Andy Murray (apparently our latest sporting hero) has a chance of winning his next tennis match as his opponent is injured. What a typically British way of looking at things. I seem to remember during past World Cup tournaments fans holding out hope of beating the opposition because Figo was suspended or Ronaldo’s dog had recently died.
The other annoying thing about tennis, is during Wimbledon it’s always on the telly. Now I know how people who hate football feel during the World Cup. I hope next year’s Wimbledon is held in Australia so those who want to watch Pete Sampras and Jimmy White, will have to stay up until 3am in order to do so, and I won’t have to switch to BBC2 if I wish to watch The One Show.
I had an argument with a woman yesterday. She was nagging me while I was doing the shopping and generally being an uncooperative pain in the arse. I wanted to punch her. Did I mention this woman wasn’t a real woman? She was a fake woman living inside the Sainsbury’s self service checkout.
After finishing a “big shop” I scanned all my items. The total came to about £28. Problem was, I had a voucher entitling me to £3 off if I spent £30. I sent Simon, off to find a bottle of Sheppy’s cider which would bring the total to £30. During this time, the bitch inside the machine started complaining that I was taking too long with my shopping “Would you like to continue?”, she asked in the most patronising of tones.
To make matters worse, despite adding a bottle of cider to the order, due to various discounted items contained within my shop, the total was still below the required £30. Cue a dash to the sweet aisle to get a bar of overpriced chocolate. While doing so, the computerised cow continued to moan “I haven’t got all night, you know. I need to get home”. At which point I smashed the monitor. I hadn’t even been drinking Stella.
I can never remember – are the clocks supposed to go forwards or back today?
Dear Stuart Pearce,
Thank you for helping me win a bet with my friend Simon.
I must admit, when your England youngsters were minutes away from beating the Czech babies on Sunday, I did worry that you would still be in Denmark for the semi-finals this week, and I would lose my bet. However, as always, England can be relied upon to mess up.
I’ll enjoy my winnings, a bottle of Sheppy’s cider, soon.
Love Sean x
If anyone else wishes to place a bet with me for England success or a Manchester United victory over Barcelona, I will happily match any odds offered by Paddy Chandler or Fred Power. Be prepared to lose though.
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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