Shedding Stuff

June 17, 2017

We’ve taken the bull by the horns today and, in the sweltering heat, sorted tge shed out.

It’s still a wood-based death trap, but now it’s a lot neater and has ninety eight percent less crap in it.

Part of the problem with the shed came from our fascination with keeping stuff because it might come in handy. Some may call it hoarding. We would call in being practically minded. And by we I, of course, mean me.

But as we sorted stuff out it became clear that we didn’t know what we had and, in many cases, even if we did know we’d prefer to use newly purchased things rather than stuff that had been in the shed for ages and was 10% heavier because of all the spider carcasses.

Carci.

Whatever.

Honestly if I never see another desicated spider body it will be too soon.

The other problem with the shed is that if the shed fairies. They are a very specific breed of magical creature who take the gifts you leave them, in the shed, and dispose of them in the local council waste disposal facility.

Such is the charm of these magical Fae folk, that they can become overwhelmed by the amount of gifting which takes place. This then leads to them having some sort of meltdown, causing them to lose their powers and therefore not take any of the shit to the tip.

We rely on the magic of these fairies a lot. An awful lot. Too much. Because the above happens and you end up with a Dyson with a burnt out motor and beojen drive belts in your shed for three years.

For example.


Hole is Where The Start Is

June 16, 2017

There’s a portaloo directly opposite our house.

Now, for however long this gas works malarky takes, I’m going to be able to see ever time one of the workmen goes for a wee. Or worse. I’m assuming the arrival of the plastic potty pod means that the work must be starting in earnest and that no time can be lost in going somewhere else for a whizz.

Obviously, we give it a couple of days before the local youth arm of Yobs R Us has tipped it up and spilt shit everywhere.hol

This gas work is quite interesting really because it just seems to be a series of holes which fill up with rain water surrounded by yellow fences. I’ve seen the promise of pipes – every now and again one of the workmen rolls a bunch of piping from one fenced area to another, but other than that there doesn’t seem to be anything other than digging.

We’re still waiting for the hole installation team to arrive in our garden. We’re still none the wiser as to how much of the patio needs to come up, or whereabouts it will be. Other than, of course, in close proximity to the mending of the sewer pipe by Matthew the plumber – something which will probably reveal that we’ve been pumping raw sewage into the garden soil for the past few years.

In an ideal world they’ll need to take up so much of the patio that they’ll end up just fitting us a new one when they come to make things right, allowing for the inevitable breaking of slabs – which they don’t seem to make anymore – and such like.

Maybe I can convince them the gas pipe runs under the shed as well – there’s no amount of making right that will sort that leaning wooden death trap out!

We really could do with a new one…


Deja Vu’ve Been Framed

June 15, 2017

ITV have, for quite a while, filled a couple of hours on ITV2 with back-to-back episodes of You’ve Been Framed.

Not new ones, obviously. Just the old ones, and the old “specials” in a sort of cycle.

You can watch for about a fortnight and by then you have seen EVERY clip in the You’ve Been Framed vault. Including the ones that are so old they fuzz out the dates to fool you into thinking they mught be new. But there are clues to the age of the clips – horse drawn carts, for example, and no amount of fuzziness can hide the age of the hilarious clip when that Victorian gentleman gets his fob watch caught in a Spinning Jenny.

Tonight, though, reached a new peak in the slightly over-used clips game. Practically all of the second episode featured in the “next generation” special which followed it. With the exact same commentary or musical score.

I mean I know it’s buried away on ITV2 as a bit of a filler and a distraction for the millenials who are getting in the drinks so they’re suitably drunk for when Love Island comes on, but even so… Showing the same show, more or less, in two adjoining time slots with no apology is a bit cheeky. Almost as though the afternoon programming is a YouTube playlist on a randomised shuffle.

I mean this is why they have to make it clear in the terms and conditions that your £250 payment for use of the clip is strictly a one-off. Tonight there are kids and parents who could have been £500 better off in the space of an hour, possibly more but I wasn’t paying that much attention to the first episode.

You’ve Been Framed should come with a Men In Black style mind wipe before each show.

Maybe that’s what Love Island is for.


Nobby

June 14, 2017

Yesterday I headed off to Leeds to meet up with an old University friend and to have a meal and a chin wag.

I was, of course, early. So I headed for the Lego shop to stand and admire things I really want but really cannot afford. And be asked, multiple times, if I was ok with what I was looking at.

Now, I don’t mind being asked that if I’m in some super-complicated shop. But the Lego store… I mean, yes it’s great customer service but, looking at the people working there, I’ve been putting Lego together longer than they have been alive. I feel the same way when I’m asked if I’m “ok there” in video game shops. Generally, I’m more “ok there” than the people behind the till.

Anyway, I parked the Lego kits I really want in my mind palace, met up with Elise and had a lovely chat and catch up with her.

And when it came to coming home, I decided to catch the bus from the stop near my old office. For old time’s sake. And because it meant I didn’t have to get the train into Huddersfield, and faff around getting out.

I got to the bus stop to find myself the only person heading to Huddersfield.

And then a man showed up who, for want of a better expression, triggered my spider-sense. He arrived at the bus stop and immediately lay down on the little metal bench seat to have a rest. After all, waiting for a bus can be tiring.

And then he had a wee into a beer bottle.

And not discretely. Not, say, in the little alcove formed by the fire door of the BT offices. Not round the corner on Sovereign Street, where there are any number of nooks available for a crafty piss.

He remained in the bench.

He undid his belt and his trousers,

And basically stick his penis in the top of a bottle.

By this point I was staring so intently at the digital timetable display that it’s a wonder the orange LEDs haven’t burnt their way into my retinas.

The thing that upset me the most, though, was that when he finished, his willy didn’t make an audible “pop” noise as it was removed from the bottle.

 


About The Size Of It

June 13, 2017

The Lego Trading Cards thing finishes today. I think, through gentle asking around and by having a decent amount of swapsies, I have practically finished the album. I might be a couple of cards short, when all is said and done, but I can live with that.

But the Lego cards are not without their controversy.

There is outcry at the “Evil Dwarf” card.

A charity which looks out for the rightful treatment of people of diminished height has said that the card could lead to children being scared of people with dwarfism.

I’m not sure what this fear is based on. It might be the fact that the dearf is carrying an axe, so looks somewhat sinister. It might be the fact that it has the word “evil” in it.

Whatever the reason, though, they have complained to Sainsbury’s and Lego about it.

And the Daily Mail.

Because if there’s one thing the Daily Mail knows about it’s how to interpret something in a way which completely villifies the thing in question.

The thing with this Dwarf, evil or otherwise, is that he is for all intents and purposes a standard fantasy dwarf. He’s got a helmet, a massive beard and an axe. He could only be more stereotypical if he was in a mine singing about gold.

But he’s riled them up, good and proper.

The thing is, though, all the Lego character cards in the collection are based on the huge array of minifigures that have been released by the Lego company – you know, the ones in the mystery bags that you end up having to squeeze to work out which one is which so as not to buy duplicates.

You can, with practice, become incredibly adept at identifying obscure lego pieces through plasticised foil packets.

The evil dwarf – the centre of all the hoohah – was released as a mini figure years ago.

And do you know how much faff there was about him then?

I’ll give you a clue.

Zero fucks were given.

And, you could argue, that evil dwarf reached far wider than the trading card version. After all, the mini figure packs are for sale all over the place, these cards are only available via Sainsbury’s.

I absolutely love it when people get offended on behalf of people who aren’t offended but the offended people feel that they should be.


Bin Done

June 12, 2017

The gas people have effectively blocked off the path along the back of our row of houses.

Which is fine, as it’s not really used much.

Except when we need to put the bin out.

We keep our bins in the back garden. It’s not ideal but keeping them there is preferable to looking out of the front window and gazing upon the refuse eyesores.

What it did mean, though, is that I had to carry a wheelie bin – packed with two week’s worth of rubbish – through the house. Without touching anything, barely putting it down or taking long enough for any neighbours to realise what I was doing.

I’m glad we recycle.

Because everything in the bin was stuff that couldn’t go into another garbage-centered receptical. It was all throwable stuff. But crickey it was heavy.

Carole told me off for moving it myself, insisting that she would have helped with her string arms.

But then it becomes the thing of how you carry it. The bins live outside. Slugs, snails and spiders use the bin’s structure as a home. There’s nothing more lovely than going to move the bin and putting your hand into the inner workings of a slug, or into the stickiest spider’s web known to man.

Basically I ended up clearing a path, opening front and back doors, grabbing the bin, and more-or-less (mainly less) running through the house with it off the ground at all times.

And then just throwing it into the front garden.

I could bring it back, now it’s been emptied but, I fear, I’d be in the same position in a fortnight given that the gas men have not materialised at all today…

 


Watching The Bae

June 11, 2017

We’ve been to see the Baywatch movie today.

Very, very entertaining and self-referential. And, one suspects, there’s a huge collection of B-roll footags featuring The Rock’s boy band names for Zac Efron.

Speaking of Zac Efron… It’s long been understood that he holds a certain attraction for Carole. She can empathise with Seth Rogen who appreciated Efron’s body so much during the filming of the first Bad Neighbours he would tell him to take his top off even if he wasn’t in the scene.

It’s fair to say that Baywatch shows him with an even buffer body. Abs you could bounce a penny off. That sort of thing.

When we go to the cinema we generally slouch in the seats (when we are slumming it and not enjoying the reclining seats of the Showcase).

We both started to the film in our slouchy positions.

And then came the point, reasonably early in the film, where Efron’s character is trying to prove himself to The Rock. He’s on an obstacle course in the style of Ninja Warrior.

Topless.

It was at this point that Carole abandoned all slouching. It’s not uncommon – though it is soul destroying – for her to make an almost primal noise of animal appreciation for certain manly forms – Chris Hensworth’s Thor and Alex O’Loughlin’s Steve McGarrett to name a couple – but this is the first time I have ever seen her sit bolt upright in her seat and pay attention like there were going to be quiz questions afterwards.

What’s he got that I haven’t?

Wait, don’t answer that.