What a shit day yesterday.
It all started in the morning when I turned on my PC and was greeted by the sound that all computer owners fear – BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! A sure sign that the RAM has died. I had to perform surgery…
I placed the PC on my desk, which had doubled up as an operating table and begun making incisions (unscrewing the chassis).
Once entering the body of the computer, I removed a stick of RAM before resuscitating the patient (rebooting the PC). All appeared OK, so I placed the faulty RAM back in the machine and rebooted – the beeping returned. I could safely say that the fault was memory related. The offending RAM has now been removed and eaten.
The whole operation was straightforward and not too dissimilar from performing surgery on a human. Let me explain…
- Joe Bloggs complains of a painful kidney.
- Cut him open, remove Kidney #1.
- Wake him up. Ask if it still hurts.
- If no, put him back to sleep and put Kidney #1 back in.
- Wake him up again. Ask if it hurts.
- If yes, you know the problem is Kidney #1. You can then remove it again.
- If he fails to wake up at all, you’ve taken out the working kidney and killed him.
- A law suite will probably follow.
- Sell the working kidney on the black market to cover legal costs.
- Luckily a PC is a little more forgiving than Mrs. Joe Bloggs.
Anyway, I’ll move on, the shit day continued when I listened to Leeds United play Barnsley in a relegation battle. Leeds were 2-1 up at half time and cruising, I honestly thought it was going to be a 4-1 win for The Whites. At 5pm I was left fuming. Barnsley 3-2 Leeds. Rubbish.
The players are a waste of space – overpaid, overweight, overhyped wankers, every single one of them. In my disgust I have removed the framed, signed Leeds shirt from my wall. I love Leeds United and still have various pieces of memorabilia hung around then room. The current squad of players however don’t represent Leeds. I hate them.
If anyone wants to buy a large photo frame, please let me know. I can also throw in a XXL Leeds United replica kit. It has been damaged by a marker pen, but that should wash out.
They say lightning never strike twice, well it struck three times yesterday… Following my PC problem and the disappointment of Leeds losing, I thought I would at least enjoy my evening.
Watkins and I went to Nandos followed by a pint in the pub. We picked up Simon from Sainsbury’s and drove back to my flat where we would watch Peep Show. It had been an enjoyable evening, the DVD was coming towards the end, there was talk of calling it a night and that’s when things went bad…
Everybody knows that Simon likes the odd drop of red wine. Red wine can in fact have a lot of health benefits in moderation. Simon however, bought a whole vat of the stuff. This caused an accident…
It was around 11’oclock when Simon did the bad thing. Maybe it was because the room was dark. Maybe he did it on purpose because I had been making derogatory comments towards Arsenal. I personally think it was a coordination issue. After all he had just consumed half a silo of red wine at 12%.
Whatever the reason, somehow a pint of dark, red, red wine ended up being spilt all over my carpet. I jumped up, terrified at the thought of losing the £350 deposit on my flat. Simon also spring to life, terrified at the thought of losing some of his precious nectar…
Me: “Quick! Soak it up!”
Simon: “Have you got any white wine?”
Me: “This is no time to be drinking Mr. Goater!”
Simon: “No, to counteract the red”
Me: “I’m sorry, I’m all out in the basement. It was a very poor summer on the vineyard!”
Watkins: “Try using Lynx deodorant”
Me: “Fuck off! I don’t smell. I showered today!”
Watkins: “No, on the stain, it’s high in alcohol!”
Surprisingly, Lynx worked very well indeed. Simon and I both became high off the aerosol fumes (nothing to do with all the wine and Carling which had been consumed) and had to sit by the open window to calm down.
This morning there is a wet patch by my bed. It has a slight hint of pink about it. It looks like somebody has been stabbed or a woman forgot to use a sanitary towel. Hopefully it’ll merge with the already dirty carpet in time and whenever I do move out, I’ll be able to reclaim my deposit. The only problem now is that my room stinks like a cross between a Meth drinker’s house and the cosmetics department in Boots.
And that was my shit day over. As the saying goes “there’s always somebody worse off than you”. That is indeed true…
In my rage, I stabbed Simon for staining my carpet with wine.I stabbed him again for staining my carpet with blood.
You may remember that back in the summer I purchased a new mobile phone and contract. At the time of signing the new contract, I handed over my old handset in return for £100 credit, which will be deducted from future bills. I may as well have traded the handset for a bag of magic beans from a man in the street.
It is now November and have I seen any evidence of this credit? Have I fuck. Upon contacting the helpline, I was asked to provide an IMEI number, supposedly on the receipt provided by the shop. There wasn’t one – the shop hadn’t given me a receipt. After tipping the contents of my flat upside down, looking for my old phone box, I found what might indeed be the IMEI number written on my new contract – next to where it says “Sim card number”. Not where you would typically expect to find it, but over the course of the evening I had learnt not to treat employees of Orange like normal people.
I rang the helpline back. A Geordie girl answered. She was hopeless and the kind of person you would expect to appear on Big Brother or Wife Swap. She told me that I must contact the Orange shop in Bath (who incidentally, never answer their telephones – how ironic). Bitch. Talk about passing the buck. She was obviously pissed off about having to work Friday night and wanted to be out on the town (or Toon), drinking Newcastle Brown Ale and eating leek pies. I shouldn’t be too hard on her, there must be a language barrier, Geordies aren’t like normal people – in Newcastle the men are like men and so are the women.
Computer says noI immediately called back, my plan, to demand to speak to the operator’s supervisor/manager. Another Geordie answered, this one sounded almost English and was relatively clear to understand. He was very helpful and apologetic and offered to contact the shop in Bath and call me tomorrow with an explanation. Thank you Gareth, you have proved me wrong – not everyone who works for Orange is a useless twat. Mind you, I won’t speak too soon, he still has to get back to me…
This evening Simon and I went to Nandos. I decided to go for a different dish than my regular choice of half chicken with two sides and ordered a double chicken burger and fries. I was not impressed. The bun was very hard, in fact it tasted stale. The meat was not much better and appeared to be very overcooked and dry.
I also made the mistake of asking for Hot Peri Peri sauce. It was indeed hot. Very hot. So hot that I had difficulty eating the meal. As the meat was so tough, it was unable to absorb the hot magma which had been generously splashed all over my dish, therefore making every bite a painful experience on my tongue.
This meant that I had to take regular trips to the Coca Cola machine for drink refills and slowing down the speed of food consumption in the process. After a while I could tell that the waitress was becoming increasingly inpatient at the fiasco and begun hovering around our table like a vulture circulating a dead animal carcass.
We eventually left, displeased. I noticed that there was a lot of new staff that I had not seen before working this evening. I hope that by my next visit they have learnt some cooking skills, manners and patience.
The walk back to my house was hard, mainly due to the extreme, Arctic light climate which has suddenly struck England. You would have thought that with a belly full of red hot sauce, I would not feel the cold – wrong, in fact the contrast in temperatures seemed to make things worse.
When we did eventually make it back to my flat, I stuck on Pro Evolution 6, a game which I bought this week from Play.com. I know I have slagged off Pro Evo in the past, but I thought I would give it a go. I have been finding Fifa 07 far too easy. When you can beat Barcelona 6-0 playing as Leeds on the hardest difficulty setting, you know something is not right.
Over the last few weeks I have been subject to bullying at work. Every Monday or Wednesday morning, following a Leeds defeat (which has basically been every Monday or Wednesday) I would be laughed at, ridiculed and reminded of the score line by smug colleagues pleased with their teams 12-0 victories.
One of the main offenders in this torment has been a Manchester United fan. Still, what goes around comes around. I had my fun today reminding him of last night’s match. FC Copenhagen 1-0 Man Utd.
I haven’t been in work long, yet still I have been reminded of Leeds United’s 4-1 defeat at the hands of Preston last night. Any more smug Manchester United, Liverpool and Accrington Stanley fans had better stay away, or feel my wrath.
To make matters worse, its freezing cold, I couldn’t find my gloves and the hot water boiler wasn’t boiling. Never mind, bacon roll makes things all better.
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.
