Last night I told an anecdote. It was possibly the best anecdote ever told, in the most hilarious way possible. You had to be there but it involved beer. It was awesome. Well done me.
Talking beer, I had a few last night in the quaint hamlet of Cheadle Hulme, with some of my Stockport brethren. They had been drinking since 2pm. I joined them at 7.30pm. Enough said. I think my visit lifted spirits and educated them in many ways. I feel that I am like the non-denominational messiah who brings them light and truth. Not sunbeams which whilst more useful in practical terms, are less valuable overall in my learned view.
The other day I wrote down my ‘in the moment’ Top 10 as follows.
- Sham 69 – Hurry up Harry
- Radiohead – No surprises
- Mezzoforte – Garden Party
- Girls Aloud – Chemistry
- The Selector – On my radio
- The theme tune to Blakes 7
- Elvis Costello & the Attractions – I don’t want to go to Chelsea
- Emerson, Lake & Palmer – Fanfare for the Common Man
- Tears for Fears – Pale Shelter
- (Joint) Midnight Oil – Beds are Burning / Men at Work – Down Under
Now that is a play list and a half. I should be one of those Ibiza DJs as who could resist dancing to this bag of bounce?
Yes, come on down to the disco in my head, which is on 24/7. The playlist is ever changing and is all sung, hummed and / or whistled by me, like one of those old Top of the Pops album with all the hits but none of the original artists.
Blakes 7. Little known fact, but one of my Stockport gang ‘The Captain’ once starred in the cult sci-fi drama as a haddock fisherman on an earth-like planet Zorgon 1. He was only in it for a couple of minutes but even now he is asked for his autograph.
Me and Mrs Bob heard a lot of music on Friday when we went to an adults party (that sounds wrong) at Bob Junior (females) school. Red Alert played a stonking covers set which I streamed part of on Facebook and it had viewers in Italy and a car park in Cornwall. The beer was fittingly Cap’n Bob’s and we had bratwurst and sauerkraut. Danke indeed.
Mrs Bob had a dance but being the shy type I drank and filmed. It was good practice for the next evening in sunny Stockport when I ‘danced’ and drank.
I watched the World Cup final today. Sad for Croatia but what a great Prez they have in her footie top and beaming smile hugging every player on both side (for a little too long in some cases, in my view) in the pouring rain. Great game and wonderful goalkeeper gaffe too. I also enjoyed watching the goals in Everton’s 22-0 win against a 4th tier Austrian team. Check it out on the BBC website for the 20th goal where the keeper just walks off before they have even shot as he couldn’t face having to try to stop yet another goal. Priceless,
It will take a while to come off the World Cup high. Last Weds me, Bob Junior (male), his two pals Cheech and Chong, and my bruv-man Mel Gibson, went down the Bobcave to watch England lose to Croatia. Me & Mel polished off 3 litres of Lithuanian beer, other beers, and a bottle of Bison Grass (Polish?) vodka. To wear off the alcohol we all got down to some retro Wii games and I won them all and was proclaimed Lord and High Commander of all things Kool [if you spell ‘cool’ as ‘kool’ that is well cool / kool. That’s what I say now as I am well street]. Shame about the result but an excuse for a knees up.
Which links neatly to magpies. I have discussed hippy crap Magpie before. However I saw 8 magpies last week and was nonplussed. If you see 7 that is ‘a secret never to be told’, but 8 ???
Seriously! I have just checked out Wiki and the answer is ‘Eight for a wish’ so I have blown it. I could have won 3rd place for England and I messed it up. Hot damnation!!!
Moving from the Magpie song to more classical music. Bob Junior (female) used to play flute and piano but is now very much a singer. At her school concert she did some great stuff with the school choir and the chamber choir. Best of all is her new role as triangle player in the orchestra. Oh hold on this is a clever link and I hadn’t realised….they did The Thieving Magpie by Rossini!!
Now there is pressure. I hadn’t realised but you have to come in at exactly the right time and as there is only one of you doing it you can’t hide. I have never been so excited by triangle playing in my life. Fab.
We had more sports and music last weekend when al four of us went up to the Cheshire pile of our lovely friends, who I shall call Jurgen and Mrs Smiley. Right first of all we got to watch England v Sweden in their very own cinema room. Perfect but the heat meant the projector kept conking out. Made for even more tense viewing mind.
Lots of group sports to do and I had a go at rounders, I tried so hard to hit the first ball but missed, but the exertion led to a rather loud trouser-trumpet jazz rendition which those in the surrounding area all heard including my embarrassed children. My bad. I dance to half a song and gorged on fine food and drink. We stayed at a B&B in a farm shop / garden centre, as you do.
The full size snooker table was too tough as I am crap. It did remind me of a game that never ended at my Stockport local The Brook back in the early to mid-80s. I still recall eye-rolling, sighing gents coming into the snooker room and seeing us too drunk to pot a ball and hogging the table for hours.
I was back in the Brook this lunch time but soft drinks only with my pals The Captain, Aled Jones and Michael Corleone. Again, I must compliment myself on the quality of my conversation. I really am wonderful material for a posh dinner party or possibly a banquet with minor royalty.
Again, nothing to say but it doesn’t stop me saying it as I sit in my parent’s house, the old homestead, typing as they sleep. I had moussaka (M&S Gastropub) for my tea and we had Lidl’s cheaper and weaker (and v nice) version of Pimm’s called Austin’s as an aperitif. Tomorrow we may go to the Post Office.
But Bob, I hear you plead, tell us why there are no more elephants in the wild in England? I will. They are no longer native to this country.
I leave you with something meaningful. “If a fool has no friends, yet needs no loyalty or love, is he truly happy? Or does he add disbelief to the world of fools?” [attributed to John-Paul Sartre by me].
Smashing Pumpkins tickets? No – rip off. I do fancy The Vapors still next year though.