Hopes may rise on the Grasmeres but Honey Pie, you’re not safe here

As it is nearly Christmas, and as we approach the end of 2019, it is surely time for one of those ‘voted by the public’ poll things. Like where we vote for our fave choccy bar in a knock-out tournament format.

Grip your knickers as it is time for 2019’s ‘That’s Good Innit?’ where 8 ‘Good’ things battle it out to be the goodest / goodiest thing ever. But for 2019 only.

The rules:

  1. It was virtually the first 8 ‘Good’ things that came into my head
  2.  I decide but pretend it is a public vote. Innit.
  3.  2019 is irrelevant.

ROUND 1

Robinson Crusoe theme tune v Spaghetti Bolognese (Spag Bol)

Red Wine v The Smiths

Naps v Showing Off

Stockport County v Singing made up songs

Tie 1: Robinson Crusoe theme tune v Spaghetti Bolognese (Spag Bol)

Well does it get tougher than this?

The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe was a 1960’s French tv series (Les Aventures de Robinson Crusoë) dubbed into English and staple summer holiday viewing for us wee ones in the early 1970s. It was brilliant and I used to pretend to be poor Robinson when holidaying in Broadstairs each summer, dragging my shipwrecked self out of the savage sea (well I was on Joss Bay and it was very calm) and collapsing by the water’s edge as dramatically as a boy who apparently wore his sister’s old red knickers as swimming trucks could.

It was the theme tune though, and all the coincidental music, that stuck with you.

Yet can Daniel Defoe’s tale brought to life really compete with the food I chose for my 40th birthday celebrations, spag bol. I had the ‘real thing’ (is it a genuine dish?) in Bologna last year and the year before (superb both times) but give me a readymade Dolmio sauce and I am just as happy. Lots of spag, a decent amount of bol, a dandruffy sprinkle of parmesan and a few generous splashes of Encona West Indian Hot Pepper Sauce, and I am in food Heaven. I like to spill the sauce on freshly laundered and ironed white shirts (my own) and rub my orangey lips on the back of Mrs Bob’s hair when she is distracted by fluffy kittens or suchlike.

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Tough tie this. Childhood happy memories v stomach-tempting bowls of meaty goodness.

Final Score:

Robinson Crusoe theme tune 3 – 3 Spaghetti Bolognese (Spag Bol) (AET Spag Bol wins 7-6 on pens)

 

Tie 2: Red Wine v The Smiths

I love red wine. Of all alcoholic drinks red wine is the best. Better than real ale – now damaged too often by citrus additions or being too dark or too strong. When I had my 3 months off the booze the one thing I finally longed for was a glass of Malbec. Then a week later I consumed two such bottles, accompanied by some tasty cheesy poofs, at my friend Big Foot’s new house, and felt crap.

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This is a problem with red wine. In the words of Ali Campbell, it does indeed go straight to my head, and I tend to drink more of it in alcoholic unit terms than I would beer – the volume you see means that I need to spend half the evening weeing with beer compared to just 15% of my time with wine. It makes me feel rough too. I used to be able to put away a gallon of it, but now half a bottle, perhaps 2/3 and that is my limit. I do like it though.

So on to The Smiths. What a huge part they played in my late teens. At uni Hatful of Hollow was constantly on the turntable. I didn’t know what they were singing half the time but it was all about me and suited wallowing despair and moodiness and no one understanding me (I was Latvian at this time).

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‘There is a light that never goes out’ became mine and Mrs Bob’s motorway driving song. Who can forget Mozzer on TOTP with his gladioli in his back pocket? The ‘Meat is Murder’ surge in vegetarianism? The Smiths were – and are – one of the best bands ever ever ever.

Now Moz has become a far right butthole but he was not The Smiths.

A man cannot live on Malbec alone……

Final Score:

Red wine   1    –    4    The Smiths

 

Tie 3:  Naps v Showing Off

Those that know me well know that I have sleep apnoea. When I was diagnosed it explained such a lot – always feeling so tired and struggling to stay alert / awake even after night after night of what I had thought to be decent sleep (it wasn’t apparently).

It is over the last few years then that, unsurprisingly, I sleep whenever I get the chance. I can put my head down and be out like a light just like that. Power nap? Pah! Two hours for me please. I used to bounce around full of energy and be out of bed early without a problem every day of the week. No more. Give me sleep. Lovely lovely sleep. Anytime, any place, anywhere. Not on the sofa. I need to be in bed. I can do it most places though. My snoring gives it away though.

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This is a tough tie though because I made up for a very shy first 15 years or so of being alive, by henceforth showing off whenever and wherever I have had the opportunity of doing so. Some call it my needing to be the centre of attention. To me, it is just embracing the trivial and fun side of life and keeping one’s glass more than half full at all times. I would rather smile a lot and see others smile, at the risk of annoying some (most?) than being the Grinch.

I label this ‘showing off’ as it is probably the best description of my overall behaviour whether out with mates, at work or at home. It is built-in now. It is an introvert working at being an extrovert – plenty of other people I know who are quite similar say the same; ‘showing off’ as a lifestyle is about papering over the cracks and being someone different who may be more likeable and fun than they really are. Wow, I sound like Frasier. Showing off is not boasting about things or making oneself out to be great; quite the opposite, it is more about getting attention but often to be laughed at rather than with.

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I realise now I could write a book about this. I wouldn’t read it though, arf arf!

No contest!

Final Score

Naps   0  –  4   Showing Off

 

Tie 4:  Stockport County  v  Singing made-up songs

This is possibly the toughest tie here. Stockport County as a club runs through me like lettering in a stick of rock; the club is part of me and will be until my dying day. Enough said surely?

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However I have the voice of a cherubic angel and when I make up songs on the spot, Mrs Bob weeps. I mean she genuinely weeps tears. I can sing about anything or anyone at any time. In my sleep, getting up, on the way to work, at work…..I think you get the drift.

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I love to sing. Stockport you know I will always love you, but singing is my Tourette’s.

Final Score

Stockport County 1  –  2  Singing Made-up songs

So in my next blog we will back to usual content – dreams; proposing marriage to a workmate; big fat sausage finger update and other health bulletins; food and drink; football; tv and; much much more!

Plus the semi-finals of 2019’s ‘That’s Good Innit?.

Spag Bol  v  The Smiths

Showing Off  v  Singing made-up songs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

simon-cowell-weight-loss-zWOW!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Hopes may rise on the Grasmeres but Honey Pie, you’re not safe here

  1. I saved your latest Bob’s World for Sunday morning reading. I can’t read the Guardian anymore because it reminds me that we are inching closer to dictatorship. So I need a new source of inspiration and a more holistic world view. Bob’s World has filled that void. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

    Mwaahs XXXXX

    Sent from my iPad

    >

    Like

    1. Dear Mwaahs

      You are a connoisseur of fine taste indeed. I am the new Dickens. Truth.

      B Carey (Genius)

      Like

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