Greyhound racing. The sport of the common man. Stale beer. Greasy chips. Chavs.
And a bloody good laugh!
I went to Wimbledon dogs, for the first time, as part of my birthday celebrations. I was joined by other novices and one wannabe John McCririck (blimey, that's tricky to spell) who'd brought along the paper to 'study the odds'.
I, on the other hand, went for the well-thought out route in order to earn my millions - pick the pooch with the best name.
So, my choices ranged from 'Droopys Dalvina' (as it reminded me of an impotent Davina McCall - scientifically impossible, but logic doesn't come into this), through to 'Comans Joe' (it reminded me of the great Schwarzenneger in Conan The Barbarian).
With such a fine system, I ended the night with three wins. Out of eleven races. Left a fiver down. Not quite enough to jack the job in yet.
Next port of call: bingo. Those old biddies clearly know something I don't...
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
Woof
Friday, 22 February 2008
Sesame Street, it ain't
Went to See Avenue Q last night, as part of my birthday celebrations. Had heard that it was very funny, with actors controlling puppets that were vaguely Sesame Street-esque, but ruder.
Yes, I'd say two puppets boffing away in the middle of the stage was slightly rude, but incredibly funny.
The show 'starred' puppets, but the stars were really the voice artists/puppet controllers who had a strange skill of being obviously there manipulating the puppets but, after a while, just became part of the scenery and enabled the audience to concentrate on the puppet, rather than the person standing two inches behind it.
Highly recommended. Just don't take the kids.
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Sunday, 9 December 2007
The Christmas Party
Just what is it about this annual event that makes people act so strangely? Ah, yes, the booze.
Had ours on Friday night and, as with so many parties across the country, as the alcohol increased, so did the strange events. I must confess that I am guilty of having a few too many (£2.80 for a double vodka and coke - seriously, you'd have to be mad not to make the most of that!)
However, the morning after always produces fine stories. Amongst our tales of woe, we had someone throwing mince pies across the car park, somebody else urinating in the middle of the same car park, without a care in the world, as traffic passed alongside, me singing Take That's 'Back For Good' as a duet with the hired singer (I bow my head in shame) and somebody else being dry-humped.
Come to think of it, I'm actually quite glad I can't remember much of it. If your party is coming up, enjoy!
Saturday, 1 December 2007
Livingstone's double bluff
I wanted to have a wander into the city today to make a start on my Christmas shopping. I thought I'd make the most of the much hyped traffic-free Oxford and Bond Street. Ken Livingstone's put a lot of effort into advertising and promoting the fact that these roads would be fully pedestrian just for Saturday, alongside street entertainers and music to make it a fun and enjoyable day for all. Use the tube and come on down to have a truely unique experience!
Then he decides to give the go-ahead for my local tube station to be closed this weekend for engineering works. Cheers.
Saturday, 24 November 2007
The waiting game
I had the misfortune to be stuck in ladies fashion store 'Jane Norman' this afternoon. I don't particularly mind shopping with girls. It's not as bad as it's made out to be. Yes, it does involve waiting around outside changing rooms for a long time, but it provides quality thinking time which is a rarity. It also enables me to look at the other poor souls who are standing around playing the waiting game too.
Whilst I was standing around today, I created a game to keep me occupied. You can play it too, if you want. Here's what to do.
Next time you're sitting on one of those soft cube cushions in the waiting area, pick a man who looks suitably fed up.
Look carefully at his face. Study the look of boredom and frustration then take a bet (with yourself, not with him because he'll probably smack you) on the number of minutes before he has an outburst.
Then, sit back and watch as the look of sheer boredom grows and manifests itself into a fearsome beast, ready to explode at the next halterneck top that the unfortunate man's lady friend chooses to wave under his nose with the immortal line "What do you think?"
I bet seven minutes against one bloke today. He exploded in 3 minutes, 12 seconds. I lost the bet with myself. Highly enjoyable though.
Normal service will soon resume...
I'm just fiddling with a few bits to make my blogging life a tad easier for me.
If you haven't noticed, I'm not the most regular blogger due to the fiddly nature of this blogging site I'm on. Hopefully, by posting entries this way, I'll be able to comment on more nothingness a bit more frequently.
