Let me start with apologising for my recent lack of commitment to beer, sandwiches & parenthood. I wish I had a great excuse like a tiny troop of black jockeys came along and kidnapped me to provide their tiny wives with sexual pleasure unfortunately the truth is I have just been to lazy.
However, it would be kind of cool to be the pleasurer of tiny women because their small hands would make my dong look massive.
Anyway, I digress. Since I last wrote life has been rolling on quite smoothly. Meredith and I had another massive Friday night where I think we stayed up past 10:30, had a cup of tea and 2, not 1 but 2, shrewsberries each. Saturday saw our only weekend antenatal class where they arranged for a real life baby to be brought along so we could get an idea of what our little sprouts might look like. Afterwards we went to Danielle's new place to help her unpack, and by unpack I mean I rummaged through her belongings, laughed at old photos of her and her former lovers and discreetly decorated the house with various things I found.
Later that night I left the one who is with child at Dan's place and went and caught up with Dodgy, Boldis and Paul for a boys night out. Of course the evening pretty much consisted of drinking and ripping into each nonetheless I still learnt a few things thing. firstly, I think I am too old and too damn bitter to go into town. Don't get me wrong, I love going to a pub/bar for drinks but when it comes to so-called nightclubs I am just not feeling it. Between the shitfaced 16 year old girls and the guys who look like 16 year old girls there isn't really a lot of species appeal to the clubs and when you throw in one fat fuck bouncer who hasn't seen his dick in 10 years it pretty much completes the trifecta of retardation. The second lesson, Burger King staff cannot handle mass drunken crowds. Sit down and let old Mr. Street explain. A normal weekend night sees Burger King full of boozers wanting some hot beef, not the same sort of hot beef as the previously mentioned shitfaced 16 year old girls were hunting but anyways. This is when you pick out the most nervous looking little Indian behind the counter and make your move, your move being ordering a burger. Next step aside and let the rest of the drunks swamp the little guy with their orders. Now the next step is the key. You don't want to come across too aggressive or too drunk so stay cool soldier. When he passes you your bag open it up immediately, glance back at him with a confused look on your face and ask where your chips are. Be aware he may push back telling you that you only ordered a burger but keep it cool and calm and insist you are right and with the lion's share of drunks still waiting to be served he wont argue too much and will flick you some free fries. Hell, next time I am going to push for fries, a drink and an extra burger
My mind is now catching up with my fingers and I just want to retreat the previously mentioned point about me becoming an old man. Unsurprisingly, a lot of people question my age, due to my baby like skin however despite my good looks I admit that I am starting to feel the effects of time. Be it a few too many beers one night or rubbing one too many out over my much outdated Baywatch calendar, my body seems to want me to slow down. It is not just the sneaky aches and pains that have alerted me to St. Anthony of Padua sneaking up on me but also what I find fun. Shit, when I was born things like being under a blanket or dribbling on the cat were probably the highlight of my day. Nowadays, I am shaking my fist at the bloody boy racer I once was, yelling at drunken girls I once would have tried to slip a digit in and generally just being a miserable old fucker. Still one thing hasn't changed, a good dribble on the cat is still a bit of a laugh.
I better watch out or else this blog might turn into something very similar to the rantings of some old buggers in a rest home.
Time to move onto something with a little less whinge factor. Ummmm, the Red Sox won the ALDC so now it is just Tampa Bay standing in the way of another World Series appearance. On that note, will someone please get interested in baseball so I can have someone to drink beers and eat corn chips with come game times.
OK, I can feel my brain getting tired now and I don't want this entry to turn into something that looks as though it was written by a fingerless vagrant so I will wrap it up with one of the best stories I have heard in a long time.
On Monday morning our receptionist came into work a bit late as she was trying to sort out a broken window in her car from Saturday night when someone broke into her car. Turns out not only had this guy broken into her car and ripped her stereo out of the dash but he had then gone onto pass out in the front seat. When her flatmate woke her up in the morning after finding the sleepy thief they called the cops who woke the guy up with a quick clip around the ear and some pepper spray. Needless to say she got her stuff back and the guy has a date with a judge in a few weeks.
With that I am off to have a nap
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