I was shocked and appalled this morning, when I bought a doughnut from the local bakery. The doughnut cost £1.05. I wasn’t trying to buy cocaine! I wanted a doughnut. Life under the Tory government.
It still tasted amazing…
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.
In my life, Saturday afternoons are generally reserved for football. I will most likely be found on a terrace at Twerton Park or deepest, darkest Essex. If I am not watching a live game of football – swearing as Bath City lose – I’ll probably be at home, on the sofa, watching the updates come through on the television, while swearing as Leeds United lose.
This Saturday was different. I gave up the rough and tumble of the national game, for something a little more refined – a trip to the theatre.
We had decided to go to the Theatre Royal, to watch a production of a murder mystery called Rehersal For Murder.
While I am sure I went to the theatre in Bath as a child, I can’t remember any trips from my youth. I did, however, go last year to see the musical, Joseph. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed it, and even bought the CD at the end of the show.
I was expecting Rehearsal For Murder to be somewhat different. It was. Obviously.
Despite the lack of singing, camels and multicoloured dreamcoats, I thought the production was pretty good. It was your typical murder mystery story. Woman dies under suspicious circumstances, a big who-did-it unravels, before the killer is exposed, with the mandatory plot twist. I actually guessed the killer in the show’s interval, although didn’t predict the twist.
The show promised “an all star cast”, and there were some faces I recognised. Although, it wasn’t until we had left the theatre and arrived back home, that I realised one of the lead roles was played by the man who was Max in Brookside. Granted, it wasn’t Dean Sullivan – AKA Jimmy Corkhill – although he’s no doubt on Broadway.
Oh, Brookside. The only soap I ever truly enjoyed. Why did you have to get cancelled? Oh yea, the original producer left and the thing became shit.
Wow. There’s suddenly lots of local activity! A human foot has been found in a field, very close to where I live and work. A man has been wandering around a busy main road, dressed in just a pair of orange underwear; and Bristol Rovers look to have been taken over by some rich dudes, who will probably bring Champions League football to The Mem in just a few of years.
I went into town today. Things never seem to go well when I go there, and today appeared to be no exception. Five minutes into our car journey, we had to turn around and go back. I had been a tit. We had been given a voucher for Krispy Kreme doughnuts, as a Christmas present. Unfortunately, there isn’t a Krispy Kreme in Weston Village, so the only place to use our voucher is in town. I suppose it’s a good thing that there isn’t a KK down the road, as I would probably weigh 50 stone.
Town wasn’t the busy hell hole it usually is. The kids were all back in school and the students were nowhere to be seen – probably in lessons, or down the pub. Yes, down the pub. This left just left lots of elderly dears, trying to find a bargain in the January sales; as well as mothers and their babies. It was all very subdued – which is a good thing. In the past, people have been mad – totally unaware of their surroundings and therefore ploughing their shopping trollies into the aisles, each other and my shins!
I was kindly given a Super Dry hoody for Christmas. It came with a voucher, enabling me to a £25 discount when I spend £75. I knew all too well that it was a ploy to get me into their shop and I ALMOST fell for it. The only thing which stopped me from spending money, was the fact that the only stuff left in their sale was crap, and Claire being the voice of reason, telling me that I already have a wardrobe full of clothes.
We looked in Game. I was hoping to find a bargain, but not expecting anything. I wasn’t wrong. A copy of Zelda for the Wii U, second hand, for £39.99. FORTY QUID for a used game. Pink Planet Games Exchange will be spinning in its grave.
Far too much money was spent in Marks and Spencer, considering we had only received a Tesco delivery yesterday – but they do sell very nice food. Tonight we have a luxury pizza, although considering we were originally going to eat out in town and decided against it, we are probably up financially.
After what seemed liked we had been in town for five years, with my feet ready to drop off, we finally made it to Krispy Kreme. We had to pick a dozen doughnuts – six each. This is always a challenge and I feel on the spot, as the server waits on patiently for me to make my selection. I don’t work well under pressure and am worried I’ll say something wrong. I guess this is what it’s like to be on a game show, like The Chase.
The drive home was dangerous. Dangerous because there were so many people on the road, who don’t know how to operate their cars. Most of the peril occurred in the car park, while drivers desperately tried to find somewhere to park. We had no issues parking on the ground floor. People are clearly too lazy to go that far down though – they’d literally drive their cars up and down the shopping aisles if they could.
When we finally got back home, we dined on doughnuts and some of our M&S findings. I’d like to say that the rest of the afternoon was a calm and relaxing one – we certainly needed it, after the madness of Bath City Centre. Instead we had to rearrange the entire utility room, ahead of delivery of a tumble dryer tomorrow. We then had to box up all our Christmas crap, move it to the garage, before vacuuming everywhere. Phew! Tomorrow, I fully intend to do f-all.
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.
