Tag Archives: rugby

Switching Sides

A bit late with this post I know – so Rugby Town is now famous for a couple of things.  Yes, the game of Rugby was invented here, hence the name ‘Rugby Football’ (I am constantly amazed at the amount of people that are not aware of this fact).  Most recently, we gained even more infamy.  The Great KFC Chicken Coup.

Never in the history of news and media have I been more amazed at the amount of effort that went into reporting the lack of chicken at KFC outlets across the uk.  For two days, the media was full of it.  At one point, the BBC reported over 60% of the UK KFC outlets were closed due to no chicken.

DHL had just taken control of the delivery contract and made a complete fudge of delivering.  The source of their error – The Rugby Depot!   Lorries full of chicken were being turned away from the DHL distribution centre and the freezers inside the depot were full! The local council also admitted that the DHL centre did not have the correct paperwork to store food at that depot.

Poor DHL……….probably bullied the historical supplier into submission with a bid that was artificially low just to get the business and then cocked up in magnificent style.

 

Another couple of weeks of intense study for me before I head to Liverpool for an exam on 23rd.  Head down in the books on a daily basis for the last month and hopefully this week a  few more things will click into place.  This will be only my second ever time in Liverpool, or more precisely Birkenhead (say that with a scouse accent – it sounds great)

 

After a brief visit to the hot tub last night I put on some old Top Of The Pops. I watched an hour and a half of clips from 1964 – 1975 and you know what, the first thing I noticed was how skinny everyone was back then – everyone.  Some rare old tunes came along too, some rare old tunes like the Righteous Brothers.  Did you know, Bill Medley was one of the Righteous Brothers?  Remember Dirty Dancing?  The Swayze?  The last song of that movie was ‘I had the time of my life’ by Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes.  There you go – I have educated you this morning.

 

There were several old time ‘bangers’ in there but I have opted to share just one.  I wanted to share an old Rod Stewart track too but couldn’t find it outside of the BBC.  Maggie May was awesome in its own right but made particularly special with a guest appearance from the late John Peel of BBC Radio fame faking the mandolin solo.  If you have BBC iPlayer – you can find it there on the BBC4 channel.

 

Anyway, for now – let the children boogie in a hazy cosmic jive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Something is Returning

It could be genius, it could be simply the new purchase – a Range Rover Sport V8 Supercharged.  A tad over 500 BHP and fuel consumption that warrants buying shares in BP.  You gotta do it though – everyone should have a V8 Supercharged at some stage in their life right?

On the plane up to Aberdeen tonight, I happened across the perfect song to play first on my road trip back south.  You will get that at the very bottom of this post – just imagine, as I pull away out of Aberdeen tomorrow morning…….  OK, by my standards, Aberdeen to Rugby is nothing more than a quick hop, skip and a jump but every road trip deserves its own play list to see you through.

I found another blinder too, this one you don’t have to wait for though, take a quick look at this beauty.  This will be my sunset tune as I get further south.

Maybe the internet raised us – or maybe people are jerks !

So, where have I been you ask?  Dah – like you care?  Well, a year in Asia under my belt I decided to quit my job and take some time out to study for my next (and last) license.  The next one is as high as I can go,  Top of the shop – Nine – Oh.  February and March will flash by in a blur as I aim to convert my Y License over to an SV licence but also push the size of the boats 6 fold.

January will also see me studying for an Fgas license. What?  an Fgas license?  WTF?  No, its not ‘fart gas’ but does allow me to legally handle refrigerants for air con and fridges etc. I think it will look good on my ever expanding CV.

But enough of that bollocks

Tesco or Sainsbury’s?

Me, I am a Sainsbury boy through and through but I did see something this week that shocked me to my core.  I was out looking for printer cartridges for Poopies printer – a modest yet effective HP Envy 5640.  A nice wireless little model too I might add.  Anyway, a black and colour cartridge I spied in Tesco for £24 – nice little combo. Problem was, Tesco was out of own brand printer paper and by heck I wasn’t paying £5 for a premium ream, sod that!  I headed for Sainers so I could refuel with my double nectar points token at the same time.

Good old Sainers, had the ream of paper for just £3.50 – that’s more like it. Just out of curiosity, I browsed the printer cartridges too.  Holy crap I nearly shat my pants.  The same cartridge combo was £36 !!!!!!!!!!  £12 more expensive than Tesco.  12 pence I could deal with but 12 quid – come on.

Out of sheer disgust, I left with my paper, a hole punch and some of those little stick on paper circles to reinforce the punch holes – sod the printer inks, I ordered a pair of XL cartridges on eBay instead and got them the next day.

For the travellers amongst you – and I don’t mean pikies, the travellers that fly – I have a new game for you to try. I have been doing it for a while now.  I am still stuck on the name for it, either ‘spot the fuckwit’ or ‘shit your pants’ I can’t decide.  Get on a plane, wait for it to start its taxi and then take a good look around.  See if you can guess who will be the first to leap out of their seat to go the toilet the very instant that the captain turns off the seat belt signs – its amazing.

It doesn’t end there though – prepare yourself for the re-match.  After the pilot has announced the decent and the cabin crew tell you to return to your seats and buckle up, who will be the first dick (or dickette – lets consider equality for a moment) to get up for the toilet when the seat belt signs are turned back on again, even after the cabin crew have said the toilets are now out of service.

I struggle with these fools if I am honest.  I once held a poo all the way from L.A. to London and then last year smashed that record with a ‘hold’ all the way from Singapore to London.  Why people struggle for 30 minutes is beyond me.

OK

 

Back to the start.  The beginning of the road trip – the song I shall start my journey with is……..

 

Wait for it.  Let me explain the intensity of this song.  People talk about bucket lists (OK, yanks talk about bucket lists).  They wank on about sky diving, going to the Isle of Man TT, Lion Taming, stabbing a Vicar in the neck, etc etc etc.  The bucket list – A list of things you should do before you die (kick the bucket)

Well, all of the items on their bucket list are just plain piffle, twat waffle, a waste of space.  If there is one thing, just one thing that should be on everyone’s bucket list – it should be this.

Many years ago while having a night out in Edinburgh, a packed pub, rammed to the rafters, the DJ decided to play this song. The whole place erupted in grand voice so loud, even the walls were shaking, I swear the 4 storey building was swaying with the beat.  Scrub your bucket list and put this at the top – to be in a Scottish pub when this is played.

But before you look, let me translate, To Haver = To talk shit.

 

 

 

Lastly, a few hello’s

 

Mon & John.  Bumped into Mon in the TC last week while I was walking along dreaming about a Greggs sausage role and almost missed her, in fact, I did miss her, luckily she spotted me. Lexa – all the way down in South Africa, popping up for the Hugh Cornwell post the other week, Conor – always deserving a mention, my most avid follower, Mr Westwood (and I don’t mean Tim) a surprise meeting at the farm in Cathorpe.  Amy Beard for still not buying me coffee and a cake – MINGER ! Steve B for some very good Xbox sessions since I have been home and of course my bird for being spectacularly ace in every aspect.

 

Party on Wayne

 

 

 


Remember to tick the right box

My recent travels to the UK left me feeling  a bit perplexed.  I flew EasyJet again – lets be honest, the price is right and the service now that the company has matured a little, is actually very good.  They have good routes, and generally run on time. I even managed to get the train from Rugby to Luton Airport, 1st class for just over £30 and a silly £1.60 bus transfer from Luton Airport Parkway Station to the Terminal – all in about 2 hours – pretty damn sweet if you ask me!

I am perplexed because when booking, I never noticed the tick box for ‘I will behave like a total fuckwit’ yet so many of my fellow passengers did.  I also find it amusing that people start to queue at the gate even before the incoming plane has landed and made its way to the gate to offload the incoming passengers.  What really tickles me is when people with ‘Speedy Boarding’ are also as hurried to get in a queue for a plane that hasn’t even arrived yet.  Oh the joys of flying.

What leaves me dumb struck are the regular flyers – by that I mean the business man that flies business class and gets priority boarding. Why is it that these spaztards actually get to the gate and when they are asked for their boarding cards, they have it stowed at the very bottom of their carry on ?   I could fully understand if they were virgin flyers but regular flyers should know better.

There is of course one huge bonus of flying back to France – it is a given that the arrivals hall will be a major cluster fuck.  So, Nice, Terminal 2 – there are 4 or 5 reclaim belts but those cheese munchers decide to put three flights worth of bags all on one belt while the others stand redundant.  Of course, you can trust the passengers to then crowd right up to the belt so that no-one can get to their bag when it actually comes around after a wait of 30 minutes.  Society has become one huge self centred place where people have little or no consideration for those around them.

Now lets talk conspiracy.  On the boat, my shampoo is Head and Shoulders.  Now, I don’t have dandruff but I do have a concern.  I think that  when I stop using the shampoo and switch to whatever brand comes next, suddenly I will start getting dandruff – a result of the secret ingredient that is put in the shampoo to trap the accidental user.

Don’t believe me?  Ask someone who has used Sensodyne toothpaste and then stopped – I bet their teeth got sensitive afterwards.

All done?  Not quite.

Tomorrow morning I will brave the chilled temperature of the Meditereanean at around 06:45.  I brought my summer wet suit with me so that I can start swimming in the mornings too.  The boat gauge suggests 14ºc – time will tell.


I’m Spazticus

lets not forget, that without fail, whenever I am road tripping and there is a car so close behind that I can’t see the number plate it always turns out to be Belgian.  I have tried to figure out why the Belgians always drive like complete cunts and the only reason I can think of is that someone told them the Germans were coming again and they are trying to get out of the country before the Bosch arrive.

I also want to have a little rant about the English too – more precisely two sloth like employees of Johnson’s Cleaners on Clifton Road. I was looking for someone to replace a zip on my travel bag and originally was hunting for the old sewing shop on Albert Street but it looks like that is long gone and been replaced with a stottie shop.  I tried Johnson’s as a last resort, took the bag in and asked if they could fit a new zip.  The first girl I spoke with was actually quite pleasant and referred me to the two sloths in the corner.  This is where my problem began.  Clearly I had interrupted one of their many ‘chin wag’ breaks throughout the day – imagine, the inconvenience of a customer needing assistance !  I showed the bag and explained that I didn’t want to buy a new bag just yet and could they fit a new zip.

Oh no – she said, my sewing machine won’t sew around the corners where the zip turns.  To say that I was a little bemused by this would of course be an understatement.  My mind was already thinking about the old fashioned way of stitching, BY HAND!.  I had a back up plan though – I asked if she could simply stitch the zip closed so that I could keep using the bag.  The younger of the sloths, slightly more slug like in demeanour very quickly quipped ‘ the material is too tough, we won’t be able to get our needles through it’

It was at this point that I really wanted to drop my pants and coil a big steamer on their desk.  Naturally, being a gentleman, I just pointed out that I, yes me, a man, had managed to make temporary stitching repairs to the very same zip with a sewing kit I found in a Russian Hotel room without any problems or specialist equipment but her only response was to to repeat herself again, the material is too tough for what I would assume will be their professional seamstress equipment. Now, call me old fashioned again ( I am sure you will) but women will never be equal in my mind when a man is better at sewing than they are – after all, it is womans work isn’t it.

The only saving grace for my little trip was that they suggested I try the cobblers behind the Squirrel.  My bag is there now being repaired, in fact the female cobbler reckons she may even be able to get the original zip working again but if all else fails, she will stitch the pocket up for me.  RESULT

More of a milestone, yesterday I competed in my first Park Run.  For those not in the know, Park Run is a volunteer operated 5 kilometer weekly race which happens in public parks across the country every saturday morning.  It is timed and posted on the internet so you can see how you compare to others and of course how you are improving.  I was a little nervous at first, not at the distance, I can run 3 times that, but just the fact that there must have been 300 people there and this would be my first time running competitively. Officially it is not a race, unofficially, everyone is racing, regardless of age or ability.  I have to admit, it was quite a buzz.  At the start, I stayed probably two thirds of the way toward the back of the pack, strategically I thought that’s where I fitted based on my judgement of those around me.  It was a gaggle and tricky not to be treading on other people’s feet, the first two corners were more of a mess really but then I started to find my pace and slowly started passing people.  I kept telling myself not to get dragged into running too hard too soon and it worked.  By the end of the first lap, I had settled into a good pace and the field had opened up nicely to give me more room to run without shoulders bashing or ankle kicking.  I crossed the finish line in 23′ 44′ which I was impressed with.  Certainly I had lost time at the start to slower runners in front of me but that time was still a new PB for me.  It is around a minute quicker than the 5k I did on a flat running machine in Moscow but also 3 minutes quicker than my 5k route in Belgium that I have been running in preparation. So I am happy.  I have two more weekends in blighty this month so I am planning two more.  Next weekend I may head for Royal Leamington Spa, before returning to Coventry for a last spurt.  For my efforts, I finished 89th out of 316 people with the oldest runner being in their 70’s and the youngest just 14.

http://www.parkrun.org.uk/coventry/results/latestresults/

I am finding it a little weird today, the weekend and I am sitting in Rugby with both of my biking playmates out on holiday.  Steve and Nic are back in Africa on safari and Rue and Claire are in Turkey.  Last night I went into town with Sex Pest. It is startlingly clear that over the last few months, I have turned.  Into what is your question.  Into a grumpy old twat would be my simple reply. I am at the stage in my life where I look at the youth of today and really find their outlook boring, their conversations mindless and their strive to look like and sound like chavs, exasperating.  Maybe it happened a long time ago but certainly over the last couple of months I have noticed it more.  I also caught a classic episode of One Foot in the Algarve this morning, and it did leave me wondering if I am going to become a real life Victor Meldrew.

But before I sign off, there is light at the end of the tunnel.  A new series called ´I’m Spazticus`courtesy of channel 4 that I caught on Thursday night.  The politically correct brigade will be hot on the heels of this programme so be sure to watch it before it is gone for good.  The next showing is on Channel 4, Wednesday night at 10:50.

More Soon


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