As I have mentioned on my blog in the past, the lawn outside the front of our house is a mess. The grass is overgrown and there are lots of weeds. Now it is autumn, the place looks even worse, as the tree has also shed its leaves, which have started to rot into the long grass, in an ugly pile of untidy shite, which is bringing down the previously pleasant image of the street and no doubt causing our neighbours to resent us.
If our neighbours didn’t resent us before, they will now, as next to the balding tree, are mushrooms – lots and lots of mushrooms. I don’t know where they have come from and I only noticed their existence yesterday. I’m not even sure they are mushrooms, they could be toadstools. I’m certainly not prepared to start eating them to find out if they either
a) taste delicious in an omelette
or
b) kill me
I was going to take a photo of them on my phone, so I could put them on my blog, in the hope that some kind soul would identify them for me, or at least tell me how the bloody hell I can get rid of them. However, just before stepping out the front door, to take a snap of them, I saw an elderly man walking down the road. If I was to start taking photos, he would either
a) Think I was weird, which, to be fair, he would be right
or
b) Ask me to get rid of the mess, which would greatly inconvenience me
or
c) Think I was growing magic mushrooms, call the police, and get me thrown into prison with Peter Barlow
I might ask the local pizza shop to see if they can identify them for me. Or perhaps one of the Super Mario Brothers. I’ll try to get a photo in the next few days. Hopefully fungus won’t have taken over the whole lawn by that point.
It was cold this morning. My winter coat came out for the first time this year. I fully expect it to come with me to East Thurrock at the weekend.
My fiancée, Claire, is a nurse, so therefore works various shifts. Some of these shifts involve working nights, and as a result, I am left home alone. This normally OK, as it gives me chance to watch TV that she doesn’t like – mainly South Park and Family Guy. Last night, for whatever reason, I got a bit freaked out.
First of all, I read a tweet from somebody who had just experienced a giant spider run across them, while they sat on the sofa. That was it – I looked all over my own sofa, moving cushions, expecting to find a creature myself. I didn’t find one.
I don’t like scary films. I don’t like being made to jump while watching them. I don’t find them entertaining, so avoid anything within the horror genre. I therefore don’t appreciate it when, in the middle of some light hearted comedy, TV channels decides to show an advert for some horrible film, with a shit your pants scary scene. The latest instance of this was an advertisement for a movie called Annabelle. The Internet Movie Database describes Annabelle as
A couple begin to experience terrifying supernatural occurrences involving a vintage doll shortly after their home is invaded by satanic cultists.
Nice.
The advert for this film, shown in between one for Baked Beans and Cushelle toilet roll, involved a woman screaming, before being chased by some ghost, which emerged from behind a door. If you want to watch the trailer for yourself, it’s on YouTube here, although I will warn you – you’ll probably need a few rolls of Cushelle after watching it.
While in the shower, 11pm at night, on my own in the house, I couldn’t help but look across the landing at the three open bedroom doors, and wonder, what would happen if the ghost from the trailer appeared in my own house. It was a nasty experience!
After my blog the other day, where I got freaked out in Frankie and Benny’s, you may think I am a bit of a ‘scaredy cat, scaredy cat, sitting on the door mat’. You would be right to think that.
Who says celebrities only follow Premier League football teams? Bath City have film director, Ken Loach, as their famous supporter, along with Eric Cantona (apparently).
City’s fellow Conference South side, Maidenhead United, are also able to boast an illustrious fan. The star of children’s TV in the 80’s and 90’s, Timmy Mallet. Whether Mr. Mallet travels to Twerton Park to support his team next month is yet to be confirmed, but I am sure he will be made to feel most welcome if he does.
In December, City play host to Wealdstone. I’m not aware that they have any fans as famous as Ken Loach or Timmy Mallet, although someone will no doubt prove me wrong, and inform me that George Clooney owns a season ticket. However, one supporter ‘The Stones’ do have, is famous on the internet. Known only as ‘The Wealdstone Raider’, all we know of him is that he likes a beer and hates Whitehawk FC (don’t we all?). The Raider will be as welcome at Bath City as Timmy Mallet, or indeed George Clooney. You want some?
I know it’s been a few days since my last blog, so you’re probably all dying to read how Bath City did against Shortwood in the FA Cup. The good news is, they won 3-1. The moaners were not there, which meant Bath City played truly superb football. I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said the famous Brazilian national side from 1970 would have struggled against The Romans on Tuesday night. Yes, City were only playing Shortwood, and yes, they did let in a goal against them, but that’s neither here nor there – the point is, they are through to the next round, where they will play East Thurrock United – another team for Accrington Stanley fans to ask “who are they?”.
A special mention for the stand, which I spotted in the ground. Sadly, this isn’t named after the recently retired referee of the same name; although I have it on good authority that a Howard Webb Stand will be built at Old Trafford in time for next season…
Last night, Claire and I went out for a lovely evening meal at Frankie and Bennys. Apparently, Bath has had one of these restaurants for some time, so we thought it would be good to visit. We’ve been to the one in Bristol before. The food has always been good, but I found it rather annoying how every five minutes, they would turn the lights off and sing ‘happy birthday’ to a diner, celebrating getting a year older. As well as getting irritated by this, I found myself worried that, for some reason, would think it was my birthday, even if it wasn’t, and start singing to me. Luckily, there was no singing in the Bath branch. Obviously the waiters, waitresses and general clientele and more refined than those in Bristol.
Something which did perturb me was the toilets. While reliving myself into one of the urinals, I overheard, what I thought to be somebody talking to themselves in one of the cubicles. I was a little scared. Given the fact I was urinating and mid-flow, I had little choice but to stay standing, while a madman and my potential killer carried on speaking to their imaginary friend/split personality, just meters away from me. While washing my hands – yes, I still maintained hygiene, despite the fact I was moments away from being murdered – I realised to my relief that it wasn’t a crazy serial killer after all. No, it was a recording of somebody trying to learn Italian. You see Frankie and Bennys is an American-Italian restaurant , and naturally all Yanks wishing to learn Italian do so on the shitter – apparently Marlon Brando did this in preparation for his role in The Godfather.
Anyway, toilet talk aside, Claire and I had a really nice evening and promised ourselves we would go back. Hopefully next time, I’ll be more prepared when visiting the bathroom – I may even pick up some Italian!
While we were wined and dined, Leeds United players were slugging themselves around a football pitch, some 200 miles north of Bath in Rotherham. The game was televised, but in an act of true love, I picked Claire over LUFC. Later that evening, after arriving home, I watched what I had recorded of the match. Of course I wasn’t going to sit through nearly two hours of boredom if I could avoid it, so I started to fast forward through the game. I began on x2 speed. Then I got bored, so increase to a steady x6. Leeds scored a very good goal, which I rewound and watched in normal time, before reverting to x6 again. Later on, Rotherham scored. How predictable. That was it. My finger tapped the fast forward button, and I watched as 22 men ran all over a football pitch, quicker than a roller-skate-wearing Usain Bolt on speed. Rotherham scored again and won 2-1. Despite how quick everything was moving, I was still able to catch a glimpse of Rotherham’s vile manager, Steve Evans. I remember that man from his managerial days at Crawley, when Bath City played them. If you think I’m being harsh on the bloke, search the internet (or even the BBC News pages) for his name and read up on his interesting past…
I read a funny tweet about Evans, which commented on the fact had sweated more during the game than any of his players.
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.
