Photos Of My New Flat

As the title states.

The hallway, complete with understair cupboard - good for locking Watkins in


The front room. No doubt many Bomberman sessions will be played here


My kitchen. I had to wash up all the Ikea plates/cups/etc today - it took ages


A walk in wardbrobe at the top of the stairs. Another place to inprison Watkins


My bathroom. Note the open door - I haven't closed it yet, even when shitting!


My bedroom. I don't normally sleep with South Park children...
unlike Mr. Wenger

Back To The Future

With most of the boxes in my new flat unpacked, I had the tedious task of phoning utility companies to arrange gas/electricity/phone accounts. Needless to say, most of my morning was spent on hold or being transferred from one department in Scotland to another in India (and vice versa).

The majority of the calls I had to make have now been made. I even managed to sort myself out with a temporary solution to the internet outage I am currently facing (until I get activated with broadband). I signed up to an unmetered dial up service!

It’s just like living in the year 2000. No lightning fast download speed or torrents, but no worries of racking up a huge phone bill either - perfectly adequate for checking e-mails, surfing the web, MSN and blogging.

For anyone who has forgotten what an analogue modem sounds like, here’s a reminder. Pretty cool huh? It takes me back to my college days when I would stay up to the early hours of the morning, downloading individual MP3s from Napster (when it was free and illegal). My sister would lift up the telephone to call her friends, thus disconnecting me, and the whole dial up process would have to start again. I almost miss it.

Expect photos of the new flat TOMORROW!

My New Flat

This weekend has been busy. Very busy. Apart from a quick nights sleep, I haven’t stopped since yesterday morning.

A lot of my boxes have been unpacked and homes found for my possessions, but still there are piles of crap everywhere – it’s rather unsettling.

I filled my flat with even more shite today, having made a trip to Ikea to make “essential” purchases – pots, pans, cutlery, bedding, etc. I was shocked to find that a trolley full of home necessities costs in excess of £200! Part of moving into a new home I suppose.

I am currently blogging from my dad’s house as I have no internet at my new flat. Add to that no Sky TV - I would be pretty bored if I had time to be!

I haven’t really got anything else to say about the weekend, and I couldn’t find my digital camera to take photos of the chaotic state I am current dwelling in. Will try and take some pics and make a more meaningful blog tomorrow. Until then, I bid you farewell.

Last Night

I’m off to bed now. My last night in this shared house. From tomorrow I’ll have my own flat - privacy, quiet, bliss. Should I choose, I’ll be able to walk from kitchen to bedroom to front room in the nude and even take a shit with the bathroom door wide open. It’s going to be excellent.

Jimmy Carr Is Fucking Brilliant

I’ve just got back from watching Jimmy Carr live in Bath. I must say, it was an excellent gig. He was absolutely hilarious, so funny he made the David Mitchell and Robert Webb show I saw last year seem like a funeral.

The show took place in The Pavillion, a run down building next to the Sports Centre. It reminded me of my old school hall where I used to attend assemblies. Close to a thousand people were crammed into the hall, huddled together like cows – it got very hot and uncomfortable. Jimmy Carr compared the location to a church sale.

His material and jokes were very funny, and not one was a reuse of his previous work. The interaction with the audience was superb. Drunken West Country chavs would shout awkward questions and obscenities in his direction, to which he would respond in the manner they deserved – mainly making fun of their inaudible accents and referring to having performed sexual acts with their mothers.

Some of his better jokes which I can remember!

Another term for a racist…
Somebody who is afraid of the dark

What’s the difference between rape and football?
Women don’t like football

People think dolphins are intelligent. They just look intelligent when swimming with the retarded children.

What’s a Unitard?
Apparently not this. According to Jimmy Carr, it’s a retarded child with a horn.

“I turned on the radio and heard that 10 people had been killed by a suicide bomber… then I found out it was in Basra – who cares?”

A kiss passes on lots of bacteria. A French kiss passes on bacteria, garlic and dog shit.

When people drive their cars in fog, why are there signs on the motorway warning people of its presence? Is it because they may be worried that they in fact have cataracts? Also, when driving in foggy conditions, why do people drive with their head closer to the windshield? The fog’s not in the car!

God does not condemn homosexuality. If he did, he would have created a plague for gays… This was followed by a series of Aids jokes.

All in all an excellent evening, highly recommended. If you get a chance to catch him on his current tour, it’s a must see show!

Thank you Jimmy, I haven’t laughed that much in ages. Also, thanks for not picking on me.

Off To See Jimmy

I’m off to see Jimmy Carr at The Pavillion in Bath this evening. I’m a big fan of his and am really looking forward to it.

One thing anybody who has seen him live or watched one of the DVDs will know is that a lot of his act involves taking the piss out of the audience and humiliating them to the extent of suicide.

In order to avoid being picked on by Jimmy, I believe precautions must be taken…

• Avoid the first four rows if at all possible (although as you are allocated a seat based upon your ticket, this is generally unavoidable)
• Do not drink heavily beforehand. The worst thing you can do is get up in the middle of his act to go for a piss - red rag to a bull
• Don’t dress like a tramp
• At the same time don’t overdress or wear strange, exotic items of clothing
• If you’re foreign, very old or very young, don’t even think about going
  

If he does pick on you, here’s what to do…

• Try and think up some witty comeback, but don’t make yourself look like a twat
• Pass the buck onto the poor sod sitting next to you
• If all else fails, call Jimmy a cunt and tell him to fuck off

Living In A Box

I have packed/boxed/dissembled nearly all my possessions ahead of my flat move on Saturday. I can’t believe how many fucking boxes I have packed with DVDs, books, clothes and general shite.

Even my furniture is gone. It has either flat packed for reassemble or taken away by the council to be dumped into a landfill site somewhere in South America. I am sleeping on a mattress on the floor, all very student/tramp like.

Still, this time in two days I’ll be in a new crib - surrounded by my HiFi and widescreen TV, living in up like a wealthy rapper or footballer. I’ll be able to use both the kitchen and toilet without smelling and viewing the remains of the previous user. Best of all, I can take a shit with the bathroom door open – get in!

My boxes are even spilling out into the front room

The vast majority of my boxes

The media centre may have been taken to bits, but the TV is still connected - priorities you see

My pet fish. My soiled shit rags are in the bin bags awaiting a wash

My Day As A Fireman

My flatmate nearly burnt the house down this evening. Normally I would be bothered and a little scared for my life, living with a pyromaniac, but as I am moving out on Saturday, I couldn’t care less.

I discovered the soon-to-be fire. I was in my bedroom when I smelt burning. Not living with any chefs, I thought somebody was just cooking, and dismissed the signs of danger drifting through my nasal cavity for poor culinary skills. It was later on that evening, when I went to cook my own dinner (Birds Eye chicken burgers and spicy wedges), that I noticed the pan on the stove, burnt black and heavily radiating.

Upon lifting the pan from the stove, the whole kitchen filled with smoke. The smoke alarm didn’t go off, a tad worrying, but I’ll probably be long gone when a serious fire does break out. I then plunged the pan into cold water, causing the smoke filled room to turn into a steam filled room.

The pan is now fucked - burnt black. Again, if it was my pan or I was staying long enough to use it , I would be rather pissed off, but I’m moving out on Saturday. Hahaha.

By the way, while all this was happening, my flatmate who originally put the pan on the stove, was chatting on the telephone – typical. And yes, before you ask, that particular housemate is a girl.

Allez Lille!

Like every true football fan outside of Devon, I will be wishing Lille the very best of luck against Manchester United this evening. The media have already got the knives out, the BBC calling Lille “the minnows” - the same “minnows” that beat the scum last season. What’s the betting, if Lille manage to pull of a similar feat tonight, the BBC will be kissing the arse of the Lille players and manager?

Another reason for me to be supporting Lille is that as a city, they are twinned with Leeds – they home of The Mighty Whites. So, if Lille do beat the scum, it’s a little bit like Leeds beating them.

As we all know, this millennium, Manchester United have not performed too well in Europe. Most notably, crashing out of the group stages against Benfica last season (Hahaha). If anybody wants to relive that wonderful European night, you can download the original commentary mix I made here. Great days.

As well as wishing Lille “good luck”, my support goes out to Leeds United who play QPR this evening and Bath City who are up against Rugby Town. If Halesowen can beat Kings Lyn, Sheffield Wednesday beat Luton, Palace beat Southend, and Barnsley & Hull draw, I’ll be a very happy chappy. It’s not much to ask, is it?

Football Masterclass #1

Here’s a lesson for Arsenal Football Club on how to a take a penalty, courtesy of Bath City’s Lewis Hogg. [Download here, Mr. Wenger]

By The Power Of Grey Skull

Yesterday evening was the last ever “Friday Night Bomberman Session” at Newbridge Hill. It was a pretty standard affair, with screaming, acts of violence and wine spillages kept to a minimum.

Prior to Bomberman, I went to town. First of all to sign the final contracts for my new flat which I moving into next Saturday. I then met Watkins and we went to watch Hot Fuzz at the cinema.

Hot Fuzz is a new comedy film starring Sean Penn. It has the comic violence of Shaun of the Dead, the quirkiness and bizarre situations of Pheonix Nights and strange West Country humour like in The Vicar of Dibley (except this was actually funny). The film was primarily shot in Wells, which is just a short drive away from Bath and is Mr. Watkins’ hometown. Overall, an excellent film, probably the best I have seen in over two years and definitely one for the DVD collection.

After the cinema, we walked to Sainsbury’s to rescue Simon from the cider drinking chavs, incontinent old people and teenage mums who he was assisting at the self-service checkout.

Being a model professional, Simon refused to leave early, so Watkins and I were forced to amuse ourselves by wandering around the Sainsbury’s lobby. We found a cool little machine which takes your money and then prints off a food voucher or, if you’re feeling generous, makes a donation to charity. Watkins decided to make a very charitable donation of 1 English penny. I beat him and donated double that – I even authorised Gift Aid (every fraction of a penny helps). Next month I will be able to watch Comic Relief, safe in the knowledge I donated to the cause.

When Simon eventually did finish for the day, we went to Nandos for some tasty Peri Peri Chicken and Spicy Rice.

And that was my evening. I’m off out soon, heading down to Twerton Park to cheer on the mighty Bath City in their game against Banbury (who the fuck are they?). Good luck to Leeds this afternoon. They play the sheep shagging Cardiff City – a team Leeds have struggled against over the last few years.

COME ON WHITES! COME ON STRIPES!

Blackwell For England

On one of my frequent visits to the football pages of BBC Online, I came across this article about ex-Leeds manager Kevin Blackwell. What a load of egotistical bollocks. Here are some excerpts…

"I have reached four semi-finals and two finals in the last four years so I must be doing something right."
- That would be two play-off semis and finals, both as Leeds boss and Neil Warnock’s lapdog at Sheffield United. Oh, and let’s not forget the FA Cup semi back in 2002, something you HELPED with. Well done.

"I have not wasted my time away,"
- That’s up for debate. Every time I turn on Sky, he’s a pundit for Football League games. Last week it was the Birmingham-Stoke game. Whenever his fellow-presenter mentioned any Birmingham player of quality, Blackwell would pipe up “I tried to sign him for Leeds”. Blah blah blah.

"I am one of the most qualified coaches in Europe…”
- Proof that football qualifications are meaningless.

“…but I still think you have got to try to learn more.”
- Like getting the “Job Done” when you reach important finals.

"It is difficult to know which way to go. I am proven as a coach and I have shown I can manage.”
- I hear there may be a vacant managerial post at both Chelsea and Barcelona in the summer, why not go there? Failing that, hold out for the inevitable sacking of Steve McClaren and take the England job – if you’re as good as you make out, I’m sure you’ll do wonders.

Take a look at this picture.
It would be so easy to go with the "Me and Gary Kelly" joke.
I'm not going to. Instead...
"Gary Kelly meets local idiot"

In all honesty, I don't have anything against Kevin Blackwell. I am grateful for what he did for Leeds, even if he did talk bollocks sometime. Good luck in your job hunt, Blackie!

The Return Of The King

It’s been a long time, over a week in fact, since last updating this blog. It’s not as if I haven’t been doing anything exciting either (well, maybe exciting is the wrong word, let’s just say I’ve been up to stuff worth blogging on). Due to the fact I have 8 days to write about, I will simply break it down into manageable, bite size chunks – a bit like mini Chicken Kievs.

The Move
The thing which seems to be dominating my life at the moment. I am packing all my possessions into large NEC Monitor boxes, which I swiped from work. I currently live in a shared flat and effectively all my belongings are stored within 1 bedroom. It’s quite amazing how much stuff I actually have and how long it takes to pack it all up. I still have to dissemble the furniture I wish to keep and call the council to arrange collection of the furniture I want to be destroyed. I move out Saturday 24th. Not long.

The Weekend

Not this coming weekend, but the weekend which we had all those days ago…
Mr. Watkins selfishly worked until 9pm, so we were unable to have our Friday GoldenEye/Bomberman session. Simon came round anyway and we spent a rather uneventful evening playing Bomberman, watching Father Ted, football and something called “Rugby League”. Saturday, Watkins did decide to turn up. We went with Simon to The Raven pub in search of a pint and their famous pies. All the tables were taken and there was a long queue. Not wishing to have to wait until breakfast for our pies, we decided to go to The Eastern Eye - a fabulous curry house, just meters away from The Raven. As always, the curry was delicious.

Football
Bath continued their fine form, drawing away to promotion rivals Kings Lyn -although I was a tad disappointed The Romans failed to get all 3 points! They made up for it by winning at Maidenhead yesterday and remain top of the league. Leeds stay rock bottom of The Championship, although the table looks a lot healthier than it did a few weeks ago, thanks mainly to a massive win over Crystal Palace at the weekend. Well done lads, if you’re not careful, you may stay up! The result was somewhat tainted by revelations from manager Dennis Wise, that there is a mole in the club. Not the black furry animal which lives underground or the brown lump on the face of Enrique Iglesias, this mole is a grass, a snitch and a cunt. The unnamed player allegedly revealed the Leeds team sheet to Palace and has been told by Wise that he won’t play for the club again… except Dennis doesn’t know who the mole is – Sky One’s Dream Team creator’s are frantically writing scripts for future episodes, based upon the ongoing farce at Elland Road.

TVAnts
Nothing to do with insects inside my TV. TVAnts is an application which allows you to watch certain TV broadcasts over the internet – including live football from the Far East. “Great” I though, “Extra football and no need for Sky”. It was good, very good, I even managed to watch the Leeds/Palace game online. HOWEVER – come Sunday afternoon, I was happily using my PC, capturing a few video clips to edit, when a rather bizarre error message appeared on screen. It wasn’t a Windows error, it was one relating to my CPU, followed by lots of hexadecimal numbers – pretty scary. After some brief internet research, I found out this was caused by one of two things – 1) a trojan, 2) corrupt video codecs. Either way, I blame TVAnts and will not be using it again. :o(
Thank fuck for Norton Ghost, which enabled me to restore my PC to a working state in under 15 minutes.
You win this round Murdoch! I will keep Sky… for now

And I think that is about it. Hopefully normal blogging will resume from now on.

Hitler Lives

A story in the news this week caught my eye – the gassing of Bernard Matthews’ turkeys. The idea of gassing 160,000 innocent beings bares many similarities to that of The Holocaust. Now before you call the P.C. Police which slaughtered Jade Goody, I’m not comparing Jews to turkeys – just read on…

Thoughts should be with Tottenham Hotspur fans. Not because they are the most boring side in Britain. Not because they lost 4-0 to Manchester United yesterday. No, the reason we should feel sorry for supporters of Spurs is because (according to football folk law), all their fans are Jewish – hence their nickname “The Yids”. These recent turkey gassings must be bringing back terrible memories for them.

There are also more recent events linking Spurs with The Holocaust…

Manchester United defender, Nemanja Vidic scored against Spurs yesterday. Take a look at him. As well as being an ugly cunt who plays for the scum, he also looks like a Nazi.

Don’t see it? Look harder…

“But why the turkeys?” I hear you cry. Well, its not just mass gassings which links them to Spurs. Take a look at Tottenham’s badge…

There’s a fucking turkey on it!!! I rest my case.

I've Got The Power

… Or rather I haven't.

My mobile phone charger has died after a long battle with "loose connection syndrome". Last night it finally decided it was no longer going to charge the battery on my Nokia 6280, and no amount of twisting and adjusting of the cable would get it working. In the end, I pulled the plug on the damn thing – literally. It is now completely broken and in the bin, soon to be collected by the Bath & North East Somerset refuse team.

I've had a mobile phone for over seven years now, and this is one of the worst possible times for this to happen. Due to the flat move, I am receiving daily telephone calls from landlords, agencies, Sky, etc - it's really maddening. To add to my frustration, I have a collection of OLD Nokia phone chargers, acquired over many years of Nokia phone ownership - NONE of these work.

Last night I ordered a replacement, it was late and I was very tired and extremely frustrated. I did something stupid. I ordered a charger for the Nokia 6230, not 6280. Now I have yet ANOTHER old style charger making its way to me in the post!

Luckily a colleague is allowing me to re-energise my phone with his charger. Hopefully that'll give my mobile enough juice until the time I can order the correct charger and get it delivered. If not, blood will be spilt.