» Festivals

Reading '99
On the first night, round our campfire, some young men stopped by who may have partaken in various intoxicating substances that day. They were kind enough to introduce us to their pet, "Bobby". Bobby, I must disclose now, was a small wood-and-metal fold-up chair.

They shared their enormous bottle of irn-bru with us then left to make more campfire companions.

Three days later, it's the morning we all have to leave, i'm lying in my tent thinking about all the reasons i don't want to have to get up and take it down, and I hear a piercing, truly anguished cry,

"NO! Someone's put bobby on the FIRE!!"

That gave me enough of a guffaw to help me out of my sleeping bag that morning. My condolences to Bobby's "parents" whoever you were.
(Sun 7th Jun 2009, 18:12, More)

» The nicest thing someone's ever done for me

sweet sweet meat
In some godforsaken moment of madness probably brought on my my parents persistent invitations to go running with them when i visit (i maintain, running should never be placed in the same sentence as fun, unless it involves laughing at, and participants) i decided to use my long weekend last autumn to go on a long bike ride.

I cycled from Bristol to the Forest of Dean on this little whim - packed some snacks and enough cash to stay at a little pub i found, and made it to the middle of the forest. It was a lovely ride, and at 35-40 miles of hilly ground to get there, was about as much as my un-trained legs could handle.

So the next day i decided a detour to Tintern would be fun, to see the abbey an stuff, seeing as i was on some sort of weird, stubby holiday of sorts. On the way i stopped to check out a tiny village church as i have a fascination with them and particularly enjoy making loud noises in the echoey bits. On this occasion, the echoey bits had responded with gusto, so i decided to put a couple of quid in their collection box. And then, in an act i can only attribute to my undoubted early-onset dementia, I proceeded to leave my wallet, complete with credit cards, in the church.

So i get halfway home, and my stomach is rumbling like a herd of stampeding wildebeast, and i see this lovely old school roadside caff. they make bacon sarnies, so i order one with a massive grin on my face, as never is a bacon butty so guilt-free as when you "need" it to ride the rest of the way home. the cashier asked how far i'd come (must have been wearing my bike helmet) and i described my route. she was duly impressed and wished me luck. At this point, i got out my rucksack and rooted about for my cash. It took some time before the realisation sank in that it was not going to be found.

Trying not to look and sound too dejected and utterly failing, I asked her to cancel my order as i did not have anything to pay her with. Before i could start snivelling, i walked out and cursed my way back to my bike.

This sensational woman then ran after me and offered me the sandwich anyway. I was more grateful than I'd ever been for any food-related gift, ever, and the sandwich tasted like it had been crafted by moses himself, in the sandwich shop in the sky.

I continued my ride with a full stomach and enjoyed it all the more for this little episode.

i got her name before i went, and sent her chocolates when i got back. i like the idea of nice deeds going round and round.

apologies for length - if you were fitter you wouldn't be so knackered anyway
(Sun 5th Oct 2008, 11:29, More)

» Mistaken Identity

i think not
i got told i looked like Myleene from that first Popstars band, Hearsay, by some random woman in the queue for the cashpoint.

naturally, i kicked her in the snatch and went to a different one, tutting in disgust whilst hoping fervently i didn't look like a vapid, fickle bint with no hope of ever achieving more than a tenuous sham of a musical career. in vain, obviously.
(Fri 1st Jun 2007, 22:49, More)

» We have to talk

about fukken time
i was seeing a guy for a year before things went a bit up the shiznitter. after repeated attempts to corner him to discuss how to fix things i gave up and told him we needed a break from each other.

Cue the usual not see each other for a week or two, meet for a drink and whoops get a bit drunk and have sex, sort of get back together, argue more, not see each other for a bit more, etc etc etc.

Then we go for a walk and he sits me down and says "i think we need to talk..."





gee... ya think?

it was a bit late for that though so i got rid... back to the trusty rabbit...
(Sun 22nd Apr 2007, 15:40, More)

» Terrible food

not me exactly, but..
the english obsession with sandwiches has gone too far. the opinion that [anything + anything] between two slices of bread = a proper meal is not only misguided but damned risky when you often have an under-stocked fridge.

my housemate specialises in such dangerous combinations. she's done pretty much any combination of the last bits left before a shopping trip; including cheese and gherkin relish, which makes me get the creeping horrors just thinking about it, and recently in a moment of snack desperation, turkey-ham and chilli sauce.

just because it's in a sandwich - DOESN'T MAKE IT RIGHT.
(Mon 21st May 2007, 20:55, More)