This week I have been off work. Claire has been in work. Therefore, I have spent a lot of time on my own, moping around indoors. It is much stranger being on your own in a house than a small flat, where I used to live.
We still haven’t got a sofa yet, so I have been watching TV from the dining room table, on uncomfortable hardback chairs. My viewing has been mostly rubbish from the hundreds upon thousands of channels on Sky, although primarily I’ve had Storage Wars on. In sofa news, it is supposed to be delivered tomorrow, when I am back in work. I am optimistic, but be prepared for a blog, unleashing the bowels of bloody hell if it does not turn up.
Every male in the country, in fact the world, has been playing Grand Theft Auto 5 this week. Even starving kids in Africa managed to get themselves a copy. They traded in a goat at a local Games Station. I have been no exception. My copy dropped through the letterbox on Tuesday, along with a new television to play it on. The TV has been placed in the box bedroom upstairs, where no doubt sounds of gunshot, screeching tyres and various explosions have been heard for the past few days. I haven’t actually played it that much this week, despite my annual leave. When GTA4 came out some years ago, I would return from work at 5pm and play into the early hours of the morning, only stopping to eat or shit, often tactfully timing bowel movements to coincide with meals, so I could eat and relieve myself at the same time. It probably wasn’t the healthiest of things to do across an entire month, but I managed complete every mission and kill every pigeon, successfully joining the 100 Club. While I very much like GTA5, it doesn’t have the same excitement or addictiveness of its predecessor. The one thing which makes GTA5 better for me, is now I have a real-life driving licence, so I can appreciate the driving a lot more. I understand how that may come across as rather worrying.
Last week I blogged about Half-Job Wankers who never finish a basic task. The Sky box is still without telephone, although we’ve kind of given up on that and opted to order the channels through the website. The grass is yet to be cut. I don’t think it will be now as we don’t own a lawnmower. I am waiting until a neighbour complains about it, or a pride of lions take up residence in the vast savannah, before I start to worry. Technically that makes me a Half-Job Wanker. Oh, and most importantly, the smoke alarms have finally been fitted, by a nice chap called Jim.
Dan’s Return
Dan came back to Bath on Saturday. Sadly, it was just for the weekend and not to move back into his basement flat, where he once lived a life not dissimilar to that of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Only his “precious” was AV equipment. Since leaving Bath, Dan has gone to live in London. A very different place to Somerset.
Dan, John and I went to Bathampton for out lunch. There is a nice pub there; The George, which sits by the canal path. The thought of food and drink in the sun was very tempting. Unfortunately, upon arrival at The George, we were ‘greeted’ by the rudest waitress I have ever met. She was just like Basil Fawlty, only with a bigger moustache.
After eating our meal or curried chicken skewers (indoors – the waitress wouldn’t let us sit outside), we met Simon. A further pub, The Boathouse, was visited for more drinks. This blog really makes my Saturday sound like a boozy pub crawl. Unfortunately, at this point, my drink count was a massive ONE. A pint of Stowford Press cider.
The evening was spent at mine. It was like old times. Retro games were played. Namely Super Bomberman 2 – which I was rubbish at. Goldeneye – which I was rubbish at. Mario Kart – which I was good at, because everyone else was rubbish. The only difference between the gaming at my flat in 2012 and the gaming at Dan’s flat in 2005, was that John was not thrown across the room by Dan, onto a family bucket of KFC, as was a weekly tradition a few years ago. Shame.
Run For Fun?
Every Sunday I make the short walk to the local newsagents to buy myself a copy of The Non-League Paper. This is the definitive Sunday newspaper. Who needs the red tops with their stories on what in-law Ryan Giggs is shagging, when you can read match reports on mediocre football games involving Bath City, Luton Town and Bristol Manor Farm.
This week, I was distracted on the way to collecting my newspaper. The roadside was cordoned off with barriers. Stewards patrolled the pavements and the occasional police officer stood on a street corner. What was going on? Had the London riots finally made their way to Bath? No. It was the annual Bath Half Marathon. An event where thousands of people run miles around the city. They’re mad. Fair play to them though. They no doubt raise a lot of money for charity and it must be very hard work. Shamefully, in the five years I have occupied my flat, on the marathon route, I have not ventured out of my front door to watch or cheer the runners. It’s a bit too much effort.
Free Bus Pass?
On Monday it was my birthday. Didn’t get me a present? No worries. Would have been nice. Seriously, no worries. It wasn’t noticed. Much. Belated gifts are still acceptable, especially if they’re of the iPad variety. It was one of those supposedly milestone birthdays, which saw me turn 30. Like when I was 18 and 21, I didn’t have a party. After the Burger King Kids Club told me I was too old on my 16th, I vowed never to have a birthday party again ever. So do I feel different? No. Am I too old to run a marathon? I couldn’t before. Am I grumpy? I was before. Can I get on buses for free? Nope. Not for another 35-fucking years. Special birthday, my arse.
Fuck Wit Dre Day
I caught the X39 bus into town this afternoon. I made the mistake in forgetting that most students finish their working day before 2pm. As a result, the bus was full all the shits that had spilled out of a nearby college. One particularly annoying student was sat in front of me wearing a pair of comically oversized headphones. Being “down wit da kids” I was able to identify these as those Dre Beats headphones everyone keeps going on about, and not a pair of Princes Leia earmuffs. He looked ridiculous. Who does he think he is? Emmanuel Frimpong? How much do these headphones cost? Not cheap, I bet. £500? No doubt Dr. Dre’s latest sucker will be protesting about increased tuition fees and how he can’t afford to pay them. Of course he bloody can’t, he’s paying Dr. Dre’s pension by wearing those stupid things on his head. Wanker.
New Years Eve. Meh. I’m not really a fan of the event. I enjoy having fun, but I don’t like fun being forced upon me. “Oooh, do you know what date it is, Sean? It’s New Years Eve. You must go out, enjoy yourself, drink yourself into a coma, before waking up dead. It’s the law, don’t you know.” Not my cup of tea really.
My disinterest in the New Year’s festivities is probably a good thing, as I haven’t found anyone to spend the evening with. Unsurprisingly, I am not too fussed. I’ve had a good day so far. I spent the afternoon with a fellow Bath City fan, watching local side Chippenham Town slug it out in an enjoyable Southern League game (a blog about this will appear on Sean’s Stories in due course).
It is now the evening. My tea is about to be cooked – a hearty meal of sausages, Aunt Bessie’s roast potatoes and frozen vegetables. A bottle of Thatcher’s cider is also in the fridge, although I may go for one of the many bottles of Bath Gem, I received for Christmas.
Once I have wined and dined, the trusty PlayStation 3 will keep me entertained. Alongside the bottles of real ale in my Crimbo stocking, I was lucky enough to be given a copy of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3. If I get bored of killing, a recent Amazon delivery has seen me acquire a copy of Sonic Generations.
However, I’m tempted to avoid gaming all together this evening. I have my eye on the Blu Ray copy of The Inbetweeners movie. This will be followed up by Match of the Day, which tonight looks to be even funnier than The Inbetweeners, thanks to this. Happy birthday, Alex – you twat.
On that delightful and heart-warming note, I bid you farewell and a happy new year – although not really, it’s just another day. I’ll just say ‘have a happy Sunday tomorrow’.
Bath City 2-0 Darlington
Conference National
Saturday 8th October 2011 – 15:00
I rarely write a blog about Bath City home games. This is because short of doing a match report, which I would be rubbish at, there wouldn’t be much to write about. I’m being serious. A typical home game would involve the following… Get out of bed. Walk over the bridge to the Twerton. Go into ground. Say a little prayer. Watch game. Eat a doughnut at half time. Cry about our loss at full time. Go into clubhouse. Drink cider. Walk home.
Yesterday was different though and deserves a blog. For the first time since April, we won a game. Yes, you read it right – Bath City won a game of football! “You’re taking the piss” I hear you all shout – “Who were you playing? Blind Wanderers FC?” Admittedly, we may as well have been. Our opponents were Darlington.
The north east has generally been a hot bed of football. You have Newcastle and Sunderland, while further south there’s Middlesbrough and Leeds. OK, hardly Milan, but more than respectable in their own right. In the middle of all those clubs is poor Darlington. When I was a teenager, I was lead to believe that they were as good as Barcelona. This was because my English teacher was a massive fan. He not only taught me the works of William Shakespeare, but that The Quakers were the best football team ever and always will be. Based on yesterday’s performance, he lied.
Despite 13 games without a win, there was a large turnout of support yesterday, mainly because the club dished out a few hundred free tickets at local universities. As a result, Twerton Park turned into a Freshers’ Fair. I’m certainly not complaining about the student invasion, it was nice to get a decent crowd. A couple of students did take up residence in my usual spot on the terrace, which caused me slight irritation. They were soon moved on, without the need for me to find a prodding stick. I just hope that some of those students return and pay for future games. It was great to have a well-attended game and the money generated will help the club.
If the players were set a mission to sell the club to the students, they did the perfect job. Like I said earlier, I’m crap at writing a match report. Let’s just say we ticked every single box in the ‘How to Play Football’ book. Scored a goal. CHECK. Kept a clean sheet. CHECK. Won the game. CHECK. I’m not going to be like my former English teacher and say we played like Barca, I’m no liar. If I was to compare our performance to a Spanish club, I would say Real Madrid. Except without the cheating. And that idiot of a manager. And that idiot Ronaldo. So yes, Bath City are better than Real Madrid.
Yes, we won. I couldn’t believe it. At full time I stood motionless on the terrace, staring at the Sky Sports Score Centre App my iPhone, which displayed the fulltime score BATH CITY 2-0 DARLIGNTON. Then I went and drank Thatchers in the clubhouse. After waiting 161 days for a win, I was tempted to drink myself into a cider-induced coma. I didn’t. However, if we beat Cambridge United on Tuesday, I cannot guarantee the excitement of back-to-back victories will not force me to intravenously hook myself up to a cider barrel.
Today I celebrated the victory by downloading the Bath City team on Fifa 12. I then played Manchester United, albeit on the very easy setting. I beat them 7-0. If we meet in the FA Cup next January, I am sure the outcome will be the same. Just like if World War 3 ever breaks out, I will be able to take on the enemy single-handedly – just like I did on Call of Duty. Video games are real.
I have found another iPhone game on the App Store that I have become addicted to.
During my holidays in Devon and Weymouth, I became a big fan of those 2 pence machines, where you chuck money into a hole in the hope of winning further coins and cheap tacky toys. Everyone knows what I’m on about – they’re great fun and anyone who doesn’t enjoy them has something seriously wrong with them.
Therefore, I was very excited when I discovered an iPhone app of the very amusement arcade machines that cost me so much money. Coin Dozer is simple – spend virtual money and win virtual money – plus virtual toys. It may sound crap, but I’ve been playing it for hours (how sad!). To make things better, the game is totally free.
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.
