I had a terrible start to my day. I woke up to find some animal had totally destroyed our rubbish bags, which had been left out for the bin men. This wasn’t just a small tear in the bag, they had been ripped to shreds spilling literally all our rubbish from the last week onto the street.
Bags of chips, used kitchen roll, old fruit, empty packets of curry, were all over the lawn, pavement and road.
Claire had to start work early, so it was up to me to tackle the mess by myself. It took almost half an hour, but I managed to tidy most of the mess – filling a brand new bin bag with rubbish, while spilling an old yoghurt down my work trousers – there was probably bin juice mixed in with it too. How disgusting!
We weren’t the only house to have their bins sabotaged. The houses opposite were also targeted. So what was behind the crime
There are lots of felines on our street. I have fallen out with many of them, after they crapped all over my lawn. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were the creature behind the bin bag damage. If this is the case, all local cat owners should have helped me clean up the mess.
Fantastic Mr. Fox
We often get foxes on our street, and see them in even more abundance the night everyone puts their bins out. I guess for a fox, bin day is like Tesco delivery day for me, when lots of nice food arrives at my door. On Tesco delivery day, I gorge myself on chocolate, crisps and cake, while making one hell of a mess. Therefore, if it was a fox who tore into my bin bag, I can kind of excuse them for gorging on rotten eggs, soggy cornflakes and potato peel.
The bane of every Bathonian’s life (or at least that’s what the local paper will have you believe). They terrorise the city centre – mainly by pooing on people from a great height. Luckily, I don’t get many near where I live – something I was boasting about to a colleague just a few days ago. I think that I jinxed myself, and the baddest, meanest gang of gulls in Bath descended upon my front garden, to eat my rubbish.
Stig of the Dump
A character in a popular children’s book from the 1980’s. Stig is a child who lives in a rubbish tip. Back then, social services weren’t nearly as good as they are now. Stig collected rubbish and presumably ate a lot of it, in order to survive. Could Stig be to blame?
Whoever it was, I have learnt a big, big lesson and will be putting the bins out in the morning next week, so that no fox, cat, seagull or neglected child tears them open.
I think that I must be the only person on the planet who is not playing Pokemon GO. I have absolutely no intention of this changing either. The point of walking around, aimlessly, staring at your mobile phone, in the hope you can “capture” a virtual creature is lost on me.
I suppose it is a bit like when you’re a kid and you go around the garden, capturing insects and putting them into a jam jar. Eventually you’ll end up with a container full of worms, woodlice, spiders and worms; all crawling and shitting over each other. At least these things are real!
Pokemon GO is actually quite a good natural selection tool. I hear some people have been injured while playing the game, hurting themselves due to the fact they have been staring at their mobile phone and not looking out for dangerous hazards. In my opinion, if you’re daft enough to walk off a cliff or fall down a well, while attempting to capture Pikachu, then you’re probably too stupid to live.
Hopefully this game will go the way of Tamagotchis and The Crazy Frog – the graveyard for crap computer animated animals.
I’m putting it out there now – it’ll end in tears. Tears and a huge pay off for Allardyce when he is sacked.
Sorry for the lack of blog in ages. I know I have said this many a time, but I’ll try to blog more frequently in future, blah blah blah…
Anyway, today’s blog is about a dream I had last night. I dreamt that I was watching Sky Sports News.
In my dream, Leeds were playing Burton Albion – a small club, who have done well of late, winning numerous promotions from non-league, all the way to The Championship, where Leeds themselves play (sadly).
Burton were beating Leeds. As with all games covered by Sky, a pundit was reporting on the match – in this case, Charlie Nicholas had invaded my dream.
Charlie was furious. Furious at the fact Leeds were playing so badly and losing to Burton Albion.
The scary thing is that when Leeds eventually do play Burton, sometime during the next 9 months, my dream could well become a reality.
I haven’t done a live football blog for a couple of years, so thought it was about time I did one. The way this works is simple – I watch a game of football on TV, and blog my thoughts as the match goes on. I know nobody will read it as it happens (it won’t even be uploaded until full time anyway) and am aware it probably won’t even be seen once the game has finished!
The match I am watching tonight is Wales against Portugal in the semi-final of Euro 2016. England are long gone from the competition, so no need to mention those losers.
I’m not sure who I want to win this one. Wales are British, and up until a week or so ago, I would have supported them without a shadow of a doubt. Then I saw their players and fans celebrating England getting knocked out. I can’t blame them. If I wasn’t English, I would be laughing too – but Wales can’t have it both ways – you can’t want England to lose, but expect the English to want you to win.
That said, whatever Wales do tonight, every single player has done themselves and their country proud. It has been a fantastic team performance and they must be commended. Well done Wales!
Then there is Portugal. I hate Portugal. They twice knocked England out of international tournaments and more importantly, have the vilest football player in the world in their ranks – Cristiano Ronaldo. If Wales win, I won’t be singing for joy, but I will snigger at Ronaldo’s tears.
Finally, before I get going, please forgive any spelling mistakes, as I am writing this on the fly!
National anthems. Wales have just done theirs. Portugal singing theirs. The same one they sung before knocking England out in Euro 2004 and the 2006 World Cup.
We’re off and I’m happy already. The game is on ITV, so that means no Robbie Savage commentating.
One minute and twenty-three seconds in. Portugal gave a player rolling around the floor in agony. Standard.
Hahaha. Ronaldo fairly tackled. Sits on his arse, arms widespread, crying to the referee. Whatever is Portuguese for “It’s not fair”, you can guarantee Ronaldo is shouting it.
As I blog, I am also having to wat my tea. This evening’s meal is southern fried chicken, chips and vegetables. I could have gone for a football related meal of Peri Peri Chicken and Welsh Lamb.
Nothing much going on. Still 0-0. I’ve been on Twitter, trying to find the score between Bath City and Chipping Sodbury in a preseason friendly. Priorities, you see.
Wales have a corner… a goal is surely imminent… Gareth Bale shoots right over the bar.
Ronaldo doing that’s stupid dancing thing with his feet. I wish somebody would break him.
I’m still watching and it’s still 0-0. OK, I lie. I have been entertaining myself watching videos on Twitter of “Things that sound better with Titanic music”.
This is so boring. The other semi-final, on tomorrow, is France against Germany. Can’t that be the final instead?
If England were in this semi-final, you’d be guaranteed goals. Granted, they would be for the opposition.
Well that was shit. It’s half time and I’m tempted to stick the tennis on. I hate tennis.
My half time interval was more productive than anything those footballers did during the first 45 minutes. I went for a wee, tidied away tea, got some chocolate yoghurt for pudding and prepared lunch for work tomorrow. As soon as I sat down to type this entry, Portugal took the lead. Ronaldo. Who else? Dammit.
The other thing I did at half time was listen to the Bath City commentary. They are drawing 1-1. Mental scenes down Chipping Sodbury!
2-0 Portugal. I think I tempted fate by criticising the first half.
I read a tweet from an England fan, telling Wales that they now know how we feel. No… the only way the Welsh would know how we feel is if their players each wiped their shitty arse on the Wales flag, in the centre circle, before feeding Tom Jones to Robbie Savage.
Ronaldo booked. If he ends up getting sent off, regardless of the result, it’ll be the greatest moment in the entire tournament.
At least it looks like there won’t be extra time. I could do with an early night.
It’s all gone quiet again. Wales burnt out and Portugal happy to see things out. Can I go to bed yet?
Wales’ Joe Allen should probably have been sent off there. It wouldn’t have made a difference to the outcome, but it would be a very English way to exit a tournament – seeing red.
All I can hear on the TV are Welsh voices singing. The fans are doing their country proud, as have their players.
The Welsh dream is over. Feel kind of sorry for them, but they been immense. Every player and supporter should be full of pride. The best football nation in Britain.
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.
If you're expecting The Man Booker Prize, you've come to the wrong place. If you want to read a collection of sometimes eccentric, often disturbing and rarely amusing ramblings, gorge your eyes on this.