Road Trip
Oh kebabs... leave me alone!!! Once again failed to listen to my own opinions and advice.
Typing this at my mother's place in Ipswich as part of my mission to roadtest the sofa's of everybody I know before the new year. Just down the road is a large three storey building surrounded by plastic, tents and policemen that they're currently doing mysterious things to, as t'was the dwelling of the chap they've got for the murders that have been going on here lately. The cat's frantic to see me again, which is very cute. I didn't know he cared. And I've picked up mum's birthday present and FLoH's belated christmas present but don't tell them I said that.
D'oh!
It's been a busy one.... lots of invites from my mates who want to make sure I'm not going mad on my own this season, which is kinda lovely. Did the christmas dinnerthing over at SouthernSophie's, with her other half, a brief stop off at the national pub of the year (The Dove Inn, Ipswich... for those familiar with these parts, take it from me it's now outpubbing the Fat Cat which takes some doing) for a small one. As is the nature of these things, I popped into the snug to see a chap I used to work with, whereupon I found, out of the line of my sight, a friend from school that I've not seen in twenty years with his family. So that was groovy in the extreme. Then off to Felixstowe to do the christmassygoodwill thing with Kaz and Michelle, mates of that parish... then back to digs at Chez Alien Kev to jump into alternative transport, load up the incredible amounts of beer in carryout pots I bought earlier, and back to SouthernSophie's for homemade Raspberry Gin, Andy's special "Gloucester Fighting Trifle" (made with the raspberries that have spent two years soaking in the gin...... naughty..........) and DVD fun with Wallace and Gromit. Highly acceptable evening.
Woke at gentleman's hours on boxing day and set about the errands of the day; dropped off a package on behalf of FLoH to the two gentlemen of this area that loaned us their house in foreign parts for two weeks of slobbing in heaven. And then from there to see my aunt and cousin's in Capel, for a quick spot of socialising. Which turned into a very long bit of socialising. There's a lot of them; the three girls and all husbands/fiancee's, plus my uncle and aunt and it's a fairly noisy deal, which is no bad thing. All the girls have matured into rather excellent people I have rather a lot of time for and the partners are all excellent blokes so it was an extremely enjoyable occaision and I spent far more time than I'd planned. Which was nice. And then onto mothers for enormous veggie christmas stylee food fest kina thing with my gran and stepfather which goes on well into the night. The last of the big feasts. I think with one thing and another, when the reckoning is done, I'll find that stone and a half I've lost in the last couple of months has come back and brought some mates with it. Oh well. Soon be back under my own neglectful care, soon get rid of that.
Left for Hull the following morning to pay my seasonal respects to Miss Biro Jules, who's appeared before in this blogette; stopped off via Harrogate to watch thirty men kick the living crap out of each other in the name of charity and rugby, and in my case, to win a bottle of wine in the draw. Which was nice. I'm very fond of Harrogate RUFC, I feel as much at home in that town as I do anywhere, and got a lovely vibe about the club as soon as I walked in on that first afternoon in 2004. Even though I don't spend anything like as much time in the town as I used, I still don't begrudge a 180 mile round trip to see some sport. Which is suprising, considering they're shite! Off to Jules' via home to drop off loot and laundry, then a most pleasant evening of natter, falling down water, mucking about with bluetooth, a certain amount of downloading Pakistani Daleks, Stripping Magicians and a lot of stroking her pussy. Cat. Pussy cat. Millie, the pussy cat. Reader, go and wash your mind out. A late start the following day, largely due to the late finish the previous night. Bacon sandwiches, the breakfast of kings. Then VJ came over, one of the people from the F board (no free publicity for that place on MY blog) which was nice. Never really gotten to speak to her before, which made a nice civilised change; although the poor lass has driven about six hundred miles on a broken coxyx and can hardly bloody walk. That board contains a lot of good people that frankly I miss, but the cut's been made, and it needed to be. It wasn't good for me, and I'm not good for it. But I'll might be asking for some contact details in the new year. Anyways up; wandered into Hull proper for curry at the Wetherspoons with the girls and VJ's fella, then drove off into the fog again...
And woke today in Grantham; in the sociable home of TB (to clarify, that is my friend of that name, not that I've contracted nasty contagious diseases of the lungs). A quick visit that turned into a spontaneous pub crawl; ah my favorate kind. Five pubs visited, six beers had. And Wetherspoons Grantham don't do Sambucca, shame on them. For the record:
Blue Pig: Rugby Twickers, Rugby No. 8
Nobody Inn: Newby & Wyke Bear Island
Chequers: Woodfordes Wherry
Goose at the Bank: Batemans Rosey Nosey
Wetherspoons: Oldershaw Yuletide
The locals thought I was nuts making notes, but it was just so that I could keep a grip on the evening. Honest. Closing time cometh;onto hateful kebabs and back to TBTowers for demolition of a certain bottle of a certain schnappes; and a certain indulgence in the wickedness known as Jakkattak, which has bitten me before. Being traditional, while this is happening, Motorhead was located on the MP3's folder (when I was a lad, we used to find the albums and stick 'em on the turntable....) and cranked up loud...
And so now. Supposed to be going north tomorrow evening, having drinkies and coming back south again. This I fear is knackered. My 1.5 Honda is currently sounding like an American Muscle Car. The exhaust has blown. So it's going to spend tomorrow up on a ramp with some hairy mechanic tutting and working out just how big a percentage of his holiday to Monaco I'm going to pay for. Kindathing that puts the mockers on your plan for the day really....
Typing this at my mother's place in Ipswich as part of my mission to roadtest the sofa's of everybody I know before the new year. Just down the road is a large three storey building surrounded by plastic, tents and policemen that they're currently doing mysterious things to, as t'was the dwelling of the chap they've got for the murders that have been going on here lately. The cat's frantic to see me again, which is very cute. I didn't know he cared. And I've picked up mum's birthday present and FLoH's belated christmas present but don't tell them I said that.
D'oh!
It's been a busy one.... lots of invites from my mates who want to make sure I'm not going mad on my own this season, which is kinda lovely. Did the christmas dinnerthing over at SouthernSophie's, with her other half, a brief stop off at the national pub of the year (The Dove Inn, Ipswich... for those familiar with these parts, take it from me it's now outpubbing the Fat Cat which takes some doing) for a small one. As is the nature of these things, I popped into the snug to see a chap I used to work with, whereupon I found, out of the line of my sight, a friend from school that I've not seen in twenty years with his family. So that was groovy in the extreme. Then off to Felixstowe to do the christmassygoodwill thing with Kaz and Michelle, mates of that parish... then back to digs at Chez Alien Kev to jump into alternative transport, load up the incredible amounts of beer in carryout pots I bought earlier, and back to SouthernSophie's for homemade Raspberry Gin, Andy's special "Gloucester Fighting Trifle" (made with the raspberries that have spent two years soaking in the gin...... naughty..........) and DVD fun with Wallace and Gromit. Highly acceptable evening.
Woke at gentleman's hours on boxing day and set about the errands of the day; dropped off a package on behalf of FLoH to the two gentlemen of this area that loaned us their house in foreign parts for two weeks of slobbing in heaven. And then from there to see my aunt and cousin's in Capel, for a quick spot of socialising. Which turned into a very long bit of socialising. There's a lot of them; the three girls and all husbands/fiancee's, plus my uncle and aunt and it's a fairly noisy deal, which is no bad thing. All the girls have matured into rather excellent people I have rather a lot of time for and the partners are all excellent blokes so it was an extremely enjoyable occaision and I spent far more time than I'd planned. Which was nice. And then onto mothers for enormous veggie christmas stylee food fest kina thing with my gran and stepfather which goes on well into the night. The last of the big feasts. I think with one thing and another, when the reckoning is done, I'll find that stone and a half I've lost in the last couple of months has come back and brought some mates with it. Oh well. Soon be back under my own neglectful care, soon get rid of that.
Left for Hull the following morning to pay my seasonal respects to Miss Biro Jules, who's appeared before in this blogette; stopped off via Harrogate to watch thirty men kick the living crap out of each other in the name of charity and rugby, and in my case, to win a bottle of wine in the draw. Which was nice. I'm very fond of Harrogate RUFC, I feel as much at home in that town as I do anywhere, and got a lovely vibe about the club as soon as I walked in on that first afternoon in 2004. Even though I don't spend anything like as much time in the town as I used, I still don't begrudge a 180 mile round trip to see some sport. Which is suprising, considering they're shite! Off to Jules' via home to drop off loot and laundry, then a most pleasant evening of natter, falling down water, mucking about with bluetooth, a certain amount of downloading Pakistani Daleks, Stripping Magicians and a lot of stroking her pussy. Cat. Pussy cat. Millie, the pussy cat. Reader, go and wash your mind out. A late start the following day, largely due to the late finish the previous night. Bacon sandwiches, the breakfast of kings. Then VJ came over, one of the people from the F board (no free publicity for that place on MY blog) which was nice. Never really gotten to speak to her before, which made a nice civilised change; although the poor lass has driven about six hundred miles on a broken coxyx and can hardly bloody walk. That board contains a lot of good people that frankly I miss, but the cut's been made, and it needed to be. It wasn't good for me, and I'm not good for it. But I'll might be asking for some contact details in the new year. Anyways up; wandered into Hull proper for curry at the Wetherspoons with the girls and VJ's fella, then drove off into the fog again...
And woke today in Grantham; in the sociable home of TB (to clarify, that is my friend of that name, not that I've contracted nasty contagious diseases of the lungs). A quick visit that turned into a spontaneous pub crawl; ah my favorate kind. Five pubs visited, six beers had. And Wetherspoons Grantham don't do Sambucca, shame on them. For the record:
Blue Pig: Rugby Twickers, Rugby No. 8
Nobody Inn: Newby & Wyke Bear Island
Chequers: Woodfordes Wherry
Goose at the Bank: Batemans Rosey Nosey
Wetherspoons: Oldershaw Yuletide
The locals thought I was nuts making notes, but it was just so that I could keep a grip on the evening. Honest. Closing time cometh;onto hateful kebabs and back to TBTowers for demolition of a certain bottle of a certain schnappes; and a certain indulgence in the wickedness known as Jakkattak, which has bitten me before. Being traditional, while this is happening, Motorhead was located on the MP3's folder (when I was a lad, we used to find the albums and stick 'em on the turntable....) and cranked up loud...
And so now. Supposed to be going north tomorrow evening, having drinkies and coming back south again. This I fear is knackered. My 1.5 Honda is currently sounding like an American Muscle Car. The exhaust has blown. So it's going to spend tomorrow up on a ramp with some hairy mechanic tutting and working out just how big a percentage of his holiday to Monaco I'm going to pay for. Kindathing that puts the mockers on your plan for the day really....
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 7:05 pm
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