It occurred to me on Monday that I will be getting married next week. At the end of April, I posted this blog. The blog post stated that I would be getting married in 54 days – now it is just 10! I put together a to-do-list. With the big day just around the corner, let’s see how much of this has been achieved…
Organise a stag party
Didn’t happen. Claire had her Hen Night, watching lots of men strip off in a play called The Full Monty. I should really have done something similar and gone out to watch a load of tits, but by that point the football season had finished, so the Leeds United players were all on their holidays. Boom boom!
Buy shoes for wedding
I did this! I deserve a medal. Not only did I buy one pair of shoes, I bought two. One for the wedding (brown) and a second pair for the honeymoon (black). I have also ordered some Converse trainers (those posh-looking daps) to wear in the evening of the wedding, although I’m still waiting for these to be delivered. It’s taking a while, so I expect they’re still being made by some 8 year old in a sweatshop somewhere, thousands of miles away. BIG LEGAL NOTICE: Converse trainers are NOT, I repeat NOT, made in sweatshops, or by children.
Buy clothes for honeymoon
Done. A second medal for me. I ordered lots of clothes. From John Lewis, from Primark, from Amazon. Even from the Leeds United clearout store. I hope I have enough things to wear. I’ve never been away for two weeks, except as a child, when my parents packed all my stuff. I went to Weymouth for a couple of nights and Butlins – hardly two weeks away from Bath. What an adventure. I feel like Bear Grylls.
Write my speech
This was finally finished yesterday. I am pleased with it. I’ll be running it by people over the next few days, most likely starting with my Mum. I will probably post it on here after the wedding, unless it fails epically, in which case it’ll be destroyed, never to be seen again.
Finish ‘list of things I need to do before the big day’
Seeing as nobody else replied to this, I assume I covered everything. If I do indeed forget anything, I will therefore blame all by blog readers – all two of them, plus about 1,000,000 bots. That means you!
There is someone outside our office cutting the grass. They have been doing this for what seems like hours. I would say the constant sound of the mower is annoying, but it has just become white noise and I forget about it. Plus the smell of freshly cut grass is one of those simple-nice-things… unless you have hay fever, which I don’t. The only thing I’m wondering is can he drive his lawnmower the short distance to my house to cut my grass. He could probably do the job in seconds!
If there is one guaranteed way to look smooth, suave and sophisticated, it is drinking water from a glass bottle with a posh lid on it. You know the kind of water I mean. You get it in up-market restaurants. The bottle’s already on the table, waiting for you to open it, but you never do, because you know you’ll be charged £5,000, or something equally ridiculous like a kidney, for doing so.
This water was therefore only reserved for the super-rich or politicians dining out and putting everything down as “expenses”. That is until now. I recently discovered a new brand of bottled water called Voss. It comes in a very fancy looking glass bottle and is an affordable price! Just under £1.50 from Tesco. Needless to say I bought a bottle immediately after discovering it!
The water tastes like… well, water. Apparently it’s from Norway. Where in Norway, I don’t know. I would expect it to be from an ancient spring, which contains loads of healing benefits. But for all I know, it could come from a Norwegian bathroom tap.
Anyway, I drank the water. Since then, I have used the bottle twice – refilling it with Bath water. Not dirty bath water leftover after you have had a wash. Bath water, as in water from a kitchen tap, in the City of Bath. To me, it tasted like the Norwegian stuff. You may scoff at me for wasting my money, but I didn’t buy the water for the water, I bought it for the bottle.
Hopefully all this cheap posh stuff is a sign of things to come and I will soon be able to buy an Aston Martin for a tenner and a Rolex Watch in Poundland.
Last night, I attended the launch of the Big Bath City Bid. In short, this is a campaign for the community to takeover Bath City Football Club, by purchasing shares.
The event was very well supported, with hundreds of Bath City fans and members of the Bath public in attendance.
Many well-known faces were in attendance, backing the bid. These included film director Ken Loach (a frequent face on the Bath City terraces), Jason Dodd (once a Bath City youth player, better known for his years at Southampton FC) and perhaps most famous of all, Ian Holloway. You don’t know who he is? The bald, Bristolian football manager who is always laughing and joking. He’s a legend by the way. I met him in Asda once, don’t you know?
Claire and I went to event as fans of the club, simply wanting to be kept informed of what was going on. We shared the attitude “We give too much money to the club already – there is no chance we’ll be buying shares in this”. After the supurb presentation, we wondering how on earth we could raise £250 each to buy shares in what will hopefully be an amazing project, bringing great success to the football club.
I’m not going to try and sell the thing to my readers. Unlike those last night, I can’t do it justice. However, if you are in the slightest bit interested – even if you have NO plans to get involved – check out the Big Bath City Bid website and see what it’s all about.
Someone once told me that behind every good man is a good woman. I now understand why this is true.
Last night, Claire worked a night shift – her first in a long time. This meant that I was left home alone. I successfully managed to get myself fed, watered, washed, dressed and to bed.
Feeling rather smug that I had managed all this on my own, I went to sleep. I was awoken some time later by the alarm on my bedside clock. I was dazed and confused, as anyone would be after being disturbed from their sleep in the middle of the night. I managed to silence the alarm and after a few minutes, came to my senses and realised what had happened… Last week, I had unplugged the clock. This resulted in the time being reset. I had put the time back what it should be. Everything fine, dandy and back to normal. Or so I thought. Yes, the time was correct, the alarm, however, was not.
Whoever makes digital alarm clocks, clearly has a sadistic and twisted mind as the default alarm after the clock is reset is 00:00 – midnight! Who on earth wants to be woken up at that time? Certainly not me! The alarm was changed back to a more humane time of 8:05am – yes, I know that I get up late for work, but that’s one of the perks of living round the corner from the office.
The moral of this story is, if Claire had not been working, she would have spotted that the alarm was set for midnight and it would not have gone off, freaking me out. OK, in reality, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the clock, it would still have alarmed, resulting in us both being woken up and Claire being cross with me.
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.
