Tag Archives: Biffy Clyro

What – no Top Gear ?

Just settling down for a sunday evening in front of the TV, Sunday 8pm, BBC2 Top Gear – but not tonight.  Seems that Jezza has overstepped the mark.  Poor old fella!  Personally, I think he could be a huge premadonna so I can believe all that I am hearing. I do predict that tomorrow though – the news will be full of stories about Mr Clarkson NOT renewing his contract with the beeb.  To really push the boat out, I reckon Hammond and May will stay on and Top Gear will continue with a similar format.  It does get a bit boring watching them smoking tyres out on dream cars, with the predictable punch lines and especially when they ask the audience if they want to see the lap in the  ‘star in a reasonably priced car’ segment – of course they do………..time for a change I think.  Tonight I am sampling a new program called ‘Off their Rockers’.

More toilet talk – I picked up a pack of Belgium’s finest bog roll the other week, all different designs.  One that took my fancy straight away was a roll with a drawing of a pile of poo on alternate sheets (almost mis-spelled that ), underneath the cartoon pile was the word ‘Happens’.  I kinda liked that – ‘Shit Happens’  quite apt for a toilet roll.  Then I noticed another roll had a cartoon face of a Lion (or Cat – I couldn’t tell which) with the words in Portuguese underneath that translated to ‘ Very Nice to see You’.  I thought that was a bit weird, dragging that across your butt hole but then this week I noticed the best yet.  Pictures of hands making shapes that signified letters of the alphabet – I assumed they were sign language but thankfully, under each drawing of a hand was the letter being signed.  I pulled a few sheets off the roll to reveal the full phrase, I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U  drag that across ring piece of your nearest and dearest to show how much you care.

So recently I have been to-ing and fro-ing from Brussels a lot – late night drives to avoid traffic congestion. Traffic just does my head in and if you plan badly you get traffic on the M25 and also on the RO (the Brussels M25 equivalent) at the other end. Usually this means a 10pm ferry, arriving in Dunkirk at 1am local time followed by a two-hour spurt into Brussels.  The other night I got into some morbid thinking about death on the long run into the ring from Dunkirk.  To perk myself up I started flicking through my iTunes playlist until I found something I really liked.  I found the mighty Biffy Clyro & 27. Singing my heart out I was fully prepared to play it again if it finished before I made it to the house but there was an ace in the pack, a very big ace.

As I approached Stockel Square, Biffy faded out and was replaced by Robbie feckin Williams with ‘Angels’.  It was 3am and I was definitely going to be at the house before this song had finished so I dropped both front windows on the car, pumped up the volume and started singing at the top of my voice.  I had time in hand, that was clear, so I circled the market square 3 times that morning – singing my bollocks off in the most out of tune manner you have ever heard in your life.  Think about the worst karaoke you ever heard – that was me.  It was like holding both middle fingers up to those boring french speaking fuckers of Belgium. IT FELT GOOD!! I hope I woke all of them up.

Friday saw the final chapter in Belgium close as we handed back the house there. I will miss having such a huge forest right on my doorstep but new chapters beckon, new adventures are always just around the corner.  Tonight I went for a run taking in a little amount of road before heading into the fields, aiming for the canal towpath somewhere between Kilsby and Barby.  I did finally make the towpath as the light was fading fast.  I missed a turn halfway down a field and added a good half kilometer to my distance.  My OS maps app didn’t work so I had no choice but to back track and find where I had gone wrong.  Eventually on the tow path, the inevitable happened – I needed a dump !  Now, the non runners amongst you will never understand the link between running and dumping but please be assured there is a legitimate link – I certainly do not have a fetish for dropping a steaming coiler out in the nature – sometimes it just can’t be avoided.  Thankfully this time, I had a packet of Handy Andy’s with me so my underwear and hat were safe.

Staying with running – I did manage a new personal best at Saturday’s Parkrun in Coventry’s War Memorial Park.  I ran my lungs out to take over 45 seconds out of my best time.  I was more than a little miffed though – on the last half of the second lap, two other runners that I correctly guessed were in my age group overtook me.  This is a problem for two reasons.  Firstly, anyone that is older than me or younger than me that is in front of me, is a target. I just can’t be beaten by anyone close by that is older or younger (yes I know that is everyone) but could I catch and pass them before the finish line ? Could I bollocks !  The second reason for this being a problem for me was that as they overtook me – they were having a conversation FFS!  If that is not adding insult to injury, I don’t know what is.  I do wonder though – if they applied my theory of ‘if you have enough air left to talk, you ain’t running hard enough’ – just how fast a time could they make ?  Anyway – I managed a respectable 77th place out of a field of 504 runners but I did get beaten by two chicks, and when I say beaten – I mean given a jolly good arse kicking !

But I keep trying – remember, there are two Great North Runs on my agenda this year.

Next week I return to St Maarten in the Caribbean before setting sail on yet another transatlantic crossing for Mallorca.  Transatlantic crossings are very boring. 16 days or so with not a great deal to do although I always say it’s better to have a boring 16 days than 16 days of fighting for your life.

 


Mugged twice in one week

I stepped out tonight with a bit of Biffy in my ear – I have to admit to liking their sound.  While on that subject, my breakfast TV this morning consisted of Duran Duran being interviewed and playing live – stunned to admit it, but they sounded good.  I had to double take to make sure they were playing live – and they were.

Thursday night last week, I was on a bit of a mission.  On Tuesday evening I ran 10k, Wednesday morning just under 5 k and on Thursday evening was going for  7k – all timed of course, with me competing against my nemesis – Me!  The Thursday run felt supremely good.  I felt strong, the pace was on for a quick time and I was running with the strength of a Stallion.  It wasn’t quite a gallop but certainly more than a trot.  Maybe one of my horsey type friends can tell me what that is – I was going to say canter but I am not too sure.  My legs were pulsing with energy and making good long strides. With about a kilometre and a half to go – I was feeling invincible.

A feeling of Invincibility is normally a falsehood, if not a warning sign. Of course, it was me against my nemesis so I wasn’t slowing – at least not until my left foot hit a pot hole and rolled inward making those poor tendons crack and groan under the strain.  The sound carried through my body and into my ears and completely drowned the Prodigy who were running with me at that time.

I knew I was done for.  It is funny how your mind works – I am still hopping to a stop and the first thought in my mind is that now, I am going to get cold.  It was around 4ºC outside and I was hot and sweaty – that wouldn’t last long.  When I finally got stopped, my thoughts then turned to how long I would be out of action for before I finally picked up my phone and called for someone to come and pick me up

I then entered the ‘fat footed twat’ era of my life.  A little like the ‘fat handed twat’ of old – the common denominator there being ‘twat’.  For two good days, I had a swollen foot that had a shape more like a half inflated condom.  Last night I managed my walk to Italian lessons without a worry and tonight, a speed walk for 45 minutes and it is feeling good – I must congratulate myself on a speedy recovery.  I will hold off the running until monday though, just to be sure.

Now the second mugging was one of those moments that you hope no-one was watching you.  The photo machine in the railway station was going to get the better of me.  After asking for directions from a policeman (all in Italian I might add), I found the machine and cursed when I saw the money slot was only for coins.  I begged some change from the café and headed for the machine. With a handful of coins I was quite spritely at feeding the damn thing but then the third coin was rejected.  I had enough time to think the words ‘what the’ before a small box popped out and landed at my feet.

Rubber Johnnies – what am I going to do with them I wondered.  Maybe I could half inflate one and stick it on my other foot so they both looked the same. Then I realised – not Johnnies but a Disney key ring with Daisy Duck on it.  I already have a use for it.

I cursed myself for a few seconds as I got in the booth and sat down, drew the curtain then realised that the money slot inside the booth also took 5 & 10 euro notes !!

Lastly, a quick hello to some old chums over in Oz – Chan, Emma & Sage.