Sunday morning. Quiet, peaceful, serene. Dan and I are drinking coffee from my new coffee maker. Only the slight hum of a fish tank and the tapping of my laptop keys as I blog can be heard.
It has been busier and noisier in previous days. Only the previous morning, an attempt to make coffee ended in disaster. Firstly, my bedroom fridge which stores milk, fruit, Coca Cola and (to Simon and Dan’s disapproval), cans of lager beer, decided it would be funny to piss itself all over my carpet. Either that or it became defrosted due to being unplugged. An accident, possibly on my part.
That same morning, my new coffee machine decided it would try to commit suicide by blowing itself up. It failed, although scorching hot, black coffee did end up streaming down my fridge (which the coffee machine as resting on) and onto the carpet – just like a black waterfall of molten lava.
In my attempt stop the emergency, I became very badly burnt. Dan became very angry due to the fact his coffee was delayed. I did suggest he suck the coffee from the shag of my sodden carpet and clothes, but he declined – fussy bastard.
Yesterday afternoon was also eventful. Mr. White, everyone’s favourite village drunkard, came to see Dan and myself. He was rather perturbed to see us playing various retro videogames, but after being threatened with various weapons I had lying around, he agreed to complete the whole of Lemmings for our enjoyment. If you are interested in seeing the various torture methods used on Mr. White, check out Dan’s blog. Maybe you too know a drunkard that you can use these methods on.
Everything comes at a cost though. Mr. White always wants more. He comes to my flat, eats my food, drinks my drink, shits in my toilet and this time… get this… he wanted to use MY electricity to charge his mobile phone! I don’t think that it would be too harsh to call him a cheeky cunt.
Reluctantly, I agreed to let Mr. White use my electricity to charge his mobile telephone, although warned him that should the charger be left behind, as it has on previous occasions, it will be donated to Oxfam.
Well Mr. White, after you left, I found your charger. If you want it back, I suggest taking a trip to the Bath branch of Oxfam. I believe they are only selling it for £1.50.
Dan and I did inform Mr. White of this, by leaving him a message on MSN. He ignored it and only took notice at 1am, on his return from a typical nights boozing. Upon logging into my MSN this morning, I was greeted my the following note:
Jono sent 19/11/2006 01:06:
what pics ? and wtf oxfam ?>
Jono sent 19/11/2006 01:09:
ive left my charger at yours again ?
Bless him. He sounds very confused. That’s what 10 pints of Stella does to you kids.
If incidentally, anybody else is reading this blog and needs a new mobile phone charger, the offer is not exclusively available to Mr. White, so why not pay Oxfam a visit and buy it before he does.
As you may be aware, it is Children In Need on television tonight. Are any of you thinking of making a donation to a child living in poverty in the third world? Have you ever considered giving money to people who don’t even have clean water to drink or enough food to eat? Do you want to provide medical equipment, which will transform the lives of millions of children? Well think again…
In Britain today, thousands of useless domestic pets have a bit of a miserable time because of owners who, for whatever reason, cannot stand the sight of them anymore.
For the money it costs to educate and inoculate a seven year old boy in Mozambique, this weird, panicy Spaniel could spend the rest of his life in a hotel.
For the price of a cataract operation which would restore a child’s sight, you could fund months of trawling up and down motorways looking for kittens.
For the cost of equipping an Ethiopian farmer with seeds and tools, you could provide a lifetime’s doggy biscuits for this Labrador which wees itself every time it hears the hoover.
Please, give what you can.
Yesterday, I went to the cinema with Dan (who is staying in Bath for the weekend) to see the new James Bond movie, Casino Royale.
Dan and I are both massive James Bond fans and were highly anticipating this latest addition to the series and eager to see how the new 007, Daniel Craig would perform.
After enduring FORTY FIVE MINUTES of advertisements, the film begun. Good job too, I was becoming rather frustrated and on the verge of running down to the cinema screen and starting a protest by shouting “START THE MOVIE, START THE MOVIE!”
Anyway, I found there to be positives and negatives about this latest film…
– The film was very dark, although I am lead to believe this is reflected in Ian Fleming’s original novel. In places it reminded me of Timothy Dalton’s, Licence to Kill.
– Having watched numerous Bond films lately, Casino Royale did not seem to have the charm seen in any of the previous titles. Something was most definitely missing and CR came across as more of an action film than a classic James Bond adventure. If Ian Fleming was alive today, he would not be amused.
– There was very little of the humour, innuendos or light heartedness, commonly found in the previous Bond movies.
– There were aspects of the film which bared similarities to George Lazenby’s Bond in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. Lazenby is of course, a Bond you either love or hate. Like most true 007 fans, I hate Lazenby and OHMSS.
– The Bond girl, Eva Green was lovely. Without giving too much away, I was a little displeased with how “involved” Bond became with Green’s character. In the end, it worked out for the best though.
– At times, I thought Bond was a rather crude. He has always been a no-nonsense character, but I thought one particular line, where he asks his adversary to scratch his testicles, was going a little too far even given the context of the situation.
– Casino Royale is a very good film, but at the end of the day, it’s an action movie.
– Daniel Craig is a great actor and despite appearing in a disappointing Bond movie, has a lot of potential. I think giving the right script and production team Craig could make some real classics. Sadly though, Casino Royale is not one of these
After the film, we both went to meet Simon for Nandos. At this point, Simon did not know we had already seen the movie and was getting ready to watch it this evening with us!
As I had promised Simon I would watch it with him, I had no problem with watching the film again. Dan was a little more objective however, and broke the unfortunate news to Simon when he had a mouthful of Peri Peri chicken.
Needless too say we did not watch the Bond movie again and I was unable to use the humorous blog title I had planned of “You Only Watch Twice”. Instead, Simon and Dan came back to my flat where we drunk coffee, ate cake and watched a proper Bond film – Octopussy.
It’s just a shame that the care and love which went into producing Octopussy was missing from the latest 007 film.
I was awoken this morning by a rather alarming sound. It was an alarm – a fire alarm to be precise. Some sod, probably living in the ground floor flat, must have thought it rather funny to set their fire alarm off, consequently throwing the whole building into a state of panic, as dozy residents awoke thinking that the world was about to end.
These are the same neighbours who, just the other week, scared me by placing a stuffed rabid cat in the hallway, all in aid of celebrating Halloween. I made it my mission back then to seek revenge upon “the family downstairs” and after this morning’s disturbance, am even more determined to do so.
My frustrations for the day didn’t end there. I have just returned from the local shops, only to discover that the bin men, or “Refuse Technicians” as they now like to be known, made a fucking mess when attempting to take the rubbish bags away. The contents of one bag had spilt outside the house, spilling beer cans, old food and other filthy items onto the pavement.
I know that they have a rubbish job to do (sorry!), but somebody has to do it and after paying excessive council tax rates, I expect it to be done properly.
That is my rant over for today. I’m off to town to meet Dan who has travelled down to Bath for the weekend. I will need to question him about a possible crime he may have committed…
This evening, as I have already mentioned was spent watching a fabulous performance of non-league football between Bath City and Cirencester Town. Bath are of course, very likened to the European Champions, Barcelona and their stadium, Twerton Park bears many similarities to that of The Nou Camp.
Bath won the game 1-0 and are now top of The Southern Premier Division. Apparently, the only reason that they can claim to be leading is because their name starts with a B, as opposed to Mangotsfield, whose starts with an M. Coincidentally, Bath and Mangotsfield have same amount of points, goal difference and for goals – riveting stuff I know!
The game was an amusing one. Non-league football is great. If offers something that you simply cannot get when watching a larger club in the Championship or Premier League. For one thing, non-league football is the only place where you can legally abuse another human being without being smacked, shot or arrested.
Simon and I were sat behind the opposition goal for the whole duration of the match (we walked to the other side of the ground at half time), and along with a group of other fans, took enjoyment in, not only cheering our local side, but making sure the keeper had a shit evening.
It wouldn’t be unfair to say that the Cirencester goalkeeper was a little on the plump side. Therefore chants of “You fat bastard”, “Who ate all the pies” and in the absence of any away supporters “Did you eat all the away fans?” were very fitting.
Being a Leeds fan, I also tried to bring a few chants from Elland Road to Twerton Park. My rendition of “Let’s go fucking mental!” (a Leeds United classic), went down particularly well, along with my own composition of “Are you Graham Poll in disguise?”, aimed at the noticeably inept referee.
If you thought I sounded rude and uncouth, you should have heard a group of 12 year old boys standing nearby. Insults of “You’re a fucking fat cunt!” and “Show us your vagina” were among the profanities thrown at the overweight goalkeeper, fittingly named as “Squeaky” due to his high pitched yells at team mates.
I thoroughly enjoyed the game and would really like to go back (friends of mine, particularly Simon should expect demands to go with me in the future). At this rate, I may soon be a supporter of the famous Bath City as well as Leeds United!
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
