I thought it was about time I blogged about something non-football related, as I’m aware that over the last couple of weeks, all my blogs have been about Leeds United’s new manager crisis!

There is absolutely no excuse for my blogging laziness. I had a perfect blogworthy topic to write about last Friday. Claire picked me up from work, so we could go to The Village. This is our high street of shops, but all locals refer to it as “The Village”. Anyone who has seen the movie Hot Fuzz, will recall the residents of Sanford. Our “Village” is very similar – although there are no murderers and instead of a Somerfield, we have a Tesco Express.

After browsing all the aisles of Tesco and paying for our groceries, we noticed the weather outside. It was raining, but this was no ordinary rain, this was rain of a Biblical scale. People sometimes say it is raining buckets – it literally was. Standing outside for a few seconds would leave you soaked. The car was not parked near Tesco. We were stranded.

Showers like this don’t normally last long in England, so we decided to wait by the exit to the supermarket. The rain persisted. Feeling self-conscious about standing in the doorway, holding our bags of shopping, we braved the outside. It was just like standing under a bathroom shower, in your clothes! After walking for about 20 seconds, we realised our mistake and took cover under an estate agents. A river of water ran down the road. I am sure that I saw a salmon swimming past us. Then the thunder and lightning started. God was very angry.

This was getting ridiculous. The car was literally minutes away. We couldn’t stand around in the village forever. With the water levels rising, there was a serious risk we could drown. We decided to walk through the rain and the storm, knowing that the sanctuary of the car wasn’t far away. The car would then drive us home, where we would be able to change into dry clothes.

As we walked to the car, someone who can only be described as a massive cunt drove past me and through a puddle. As they were driving at speed, I got splashed. I shouted some expletives at the car, half expecting the driver to stop, get out of the car and knock me out. I didn’t get into a fight and made it make to the car undamaged, but very soggy.

Half an hour later, I was home and in warm pyjamas, where I ate cake and watched television with my wife. I think we earnt the cake. As for the driver who splashed me, I hope they ran over a nail and burst all their tyres.