The rumours were right. Harry Redknapp is going into the I’m a Celebrity jungle – alongside a runner up from X Factor, someone from Hollyoaks (naturally) and a TV builder. Remember when ‘arry was linked with the England job? No, neither do I.
In anticipation of the new series, I have derised a drinking game, based around Mr Redknapp. I am practically T-Total these days, with the strongest drink passing my lips being Dr Pepper.
Don’t let my non-drinking stop you – all you piss heads out there, feel free to enjoy the SEAN’S STORIES HARRY REDKNAPP I’M A CELEBRITY GET ME OUT OF HERE DRINKING GAME 2018. Catchy name, isn’t it?
Take a shot everytime Redknapp…
- Describes a camp mate’s performance in a Bushtucker Challenge as “fantastic”.
- Describes his own performance as “triffic”
- Says “you know”, while answering a question
- Refers to his time in the jungle as a “breath of fresh air”
Drink a glass of wine if Harry…
- Calls one of his camp mates a “top, top celebrity”
- Praises Dec, by calling him a “top fella”
Drink a Jagerbomb if Harry…
- Claims to have attempted to sign any of the celebrities, while he was manager of Bournemouth.
Drink a can of Castlemain if…
- Harry picks any of the following, to write him a “letter from home”… Peter Crouch, Niko Kranjčar, Rosie the dog, or any of the 2008 FA Cup winning Portsmouth FC squad.
- Harry avoids paying Kiosk Keith tax for his Dingo Dollars.
Down an entire bottle of vodka if…
- Dec calls Harry a “wheeler dealer”, who replies “I’m not a wheeler dealer, I’m a fackin’ celebrity!”
- Harry carries out any jungle interview from a car window.
Unusually, I’ve been enjoying watching Leeds this season. It certainly helps that they’re doing well.
I did not enjoy today…
Still, there’s always someone worse off than yourself…
Now, either Barcelona have rebranded themselves as Fraserburg and entered the Scottish Highland League, or Fort William are shit. Looking at “The Fort’s” results, I think it’s the latter.
So far this season, winless FW have conceded an average of over 7 goals per game. They’ve also lost 11-0, 11-1 (twice) and 10-1 (twice).
Ironically, before today, I had never heard of Fraserburg. However, I was aware of Fort William – although, that was from studying train time tables, as a child, and being facinated how far North the rail network stretched. As you can tell, I was one of the cool kids.
I recently blogged about one of life’s small pleasures.
One of my other simple delights, which doesn’t cost a penny, is lying in bed at night, hearing heavy rain outside; being driven into the windows and side of the house by strong gusts of wind. I love it.
What I do not love is when the weather is dry and calm all night, but decides to unleash a hellish combination of wind and rain, as I am about to leave for work.
Despite wearing a coat and somehow managing to drive my 4-miles-per-hour mobility scooter as if it were a Formula One motorcar, the 8 minute ride to the office resulted in me getting absolutely soaked!
I was worried that a passing car may drive through a deep puddle in the road, splashing me in the process. However, I don’t think even the mother of all soakings could have made me any less drenched than how I was, upon arrival at my desk.
What’s the weather tonight, as I blog and prepare to sleep? Yes, you’ve guessed it. The weather is calm and dry.
It’s been announced that The Spice Girls will be performing part of their 2019 tour at Ashton Gate – the home of Bristol City Football Club.
I fully expect the girls to leave Ashton Gate with all 3 points!
We were relatively unscathed by fireworks this year. There is a good reason why 2018 has given me cause for concern over those pretty bombs people are buying.
My worry has nothing to do with safety. Although if fireworks had been introduced as a new invention nowadays, their creator would be shipped off to Guantanamo Bay quicker than Donald Trump on his way to judge a water-boarding contest.
Think about it. Fireworks are being sold with the intention of parents detonating explosives in their garden, in front of their impressionable kids. There’s your radicalisation of minors, right there – and as for burning Guy Fawkes on a fire…
No. My worry this year is about Roman and how he would react to the loud bangs. Some local moron let off a firework in September and he was left traumatised.
Luckily, it would appear that people can’t afford fireworks this year – lets blame Brexit – so either stayed at home, watching Strictly Come Dancing, or ventured into town for a professional display. If Brexit has indeed left people so poor that they can no longer afford to buy gunpowder, I think that I have discovered the first positive in leaving The EU.
No money means no fireworks, and no fireworks means no problems for our bunny. I think the late rapper, Notorious B.I.G. best described this situation when he said “Mo Money, Mo Problems”.
The only time I heard any real fireworks of note was at about 2.30am at the weekend. What arsehole lets them off then? Besides waking me up, there waa no harm done. I even checked Roman on the webcam. He was fine. As for Claire, she slept through it all. My friend, the tawny owl, was also heard for the first time since winter – either that, or they now make fireworks which go “twit twoo” instead of bang.
So that’s it. Bonfire Night over for another year, with no real events at all. How did I managed to blog 361 words about bugger all?
Mind you, saying nothing happened isn’t strictly true yet – there’s another 33 minutes left before midnight in the UK and over 5 and a half hours in Washington DC. Shit…
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.
