Woof

A few days / months / years ago I wrote something about wine bottles in the Sainsbury's.

You can either poke your eyes out with the receiver of a cordless telephone or read about it again here.

Anyway, so today I went for lunch, here is the sign to the entrance and it was lovely.

I chased three slices of cold meat around the plate with my fork and some elderly codger from Surrey tried to chat me up.

That was very odd given that he was about 90 years old. I shuddered a little actually.

I'm in Cape Town now because I got on an airplane at Heathrow that flew all the way here. Here's a picture of the front portion of the plane...

The back end of it is still at Heathrow? Or I dunno how the system works actually.

Well, I do know how it works but it's more silly to pretend that I don't.

Did you know that I bought my epileptic brother a strobe light for his birthday?

He's going to have a fit when he sees it!

Er, sorry but I ripped that off Popbitch but it's an easy joke to retell. And now you can amuse guests at dinner parties / social gathering / sex orgies with it too.

And thus I believe I have lowered the tone sufficiently, so I shall now quit. Before I go however, here's a picture that could also be a proverb.

Get it? It's not too difficult.

And the dog is Gus by the way. He's my parents' dog and I think he's a bit of wimp.

Weakest

On a completely unrelated matter...

Have you ever heard of this TV show called The Weakest Link?

It's like a game show where the contestants get insulted and then the one who can take the most insults wins. I think there are questions in it too.

I don't follow these things much but I think that's what the show is about.

Anyway, so I have the TV on the other day and this Weakest Link show pops up. The host is this guy called Sam (?) Robinson and it's his job to insult everybody. This is Sam...

So I'm watching this show and concentrating very hard and I'm like "cowabunga!" Check out Ian, one of the contestants...

All of the other people on this programme are like wilting roses in the Kalahari sun but Ian is like a spring daisy before the dog cocks it leg on it.

Anyway.

So people get asked some questions and then Sam insults the contestants and suddenly, for some bizarre reason, the other contestants have decided to vote Ian off.

This part is not clear but the next minute Ian is walking off the show. What the hell!?

What's the point of this programme - where the old codgers boot the fitties out first?

I mean, Ian got the most insults and all the questions that he answered were wrong but what's the point of a bloody game show if you dump the hot ones first?

I don't get it.

That's the last time I'm watching the Weakest Link then. Any other good TV suggestions?

Rude tube

Er.

Spotted on a Jubilee Line train at Finchley Road tube station.

I wuv you

Here, buy one of these for that someone you love.

They're on sale outside Finchley Road tube station. Go now before some feral youth with a pellet gun shoots them all.

I, for one, am going to do something special for the person that I love.

Yes, I'm going to allow myself and extra 2-hour lie-in tomorrow morning and I may even award myself a celebratory Valentine's Day wank.

Or I may just pick my nose and scratch my bum instead.

Valentine's Day my arse.

Drinking

I have an update for you.

It concerns him, Mr Dipstick.

If you can't be bothered to click away and read the link, I'll precis in bad haiku:

Bobby asks boy on date
"Yes, when my trolley-dolly 'boyf' is away"
Bobby wanders off.

Remember we spoke about it? What kind of knob-end goes "yes, let's go for a drink but only when my significant other is out of town." What a shit.

This week I'm at the gym again and you'll never guess...

Yes, Trolley-Dolly has dumped Liam (for that is going to be his name from now on).

I knows this because Liam's talking about some random guy. I says to Liam 'but aren't you spoken for?'

"Well..." In short, they broke up.

After our session Liam and I are filling our protein shakes at the water cooler and Liam goes "maybe we should go out some time for a proper drink."

(Please note this is nearly identical to the way I asked him.) I says that would be nice. That was a week ago.

Since then Liam has mentioned it every day, at least four times. Every time I have given him a whimsical non-committed answer.

As far as I care, I asked him out like anyone else would ask a mate. He assumed I wanted some dirty little tryst while the" trolley-dolly boyf" was away.

I will go out for a drink with him but not until he's nearly begging because he blew up my first offer so spectacularly.

Of course Liam has a very good physique. This is why I've not immediately gone "piss off dude, you shat on my first proposal."

He's still a dipstick though. For now.

Bomb onboard

My parents have a soda siphon but they cannot find any CO2 refill cartridges in Cape Town so my mother phones and asks if I could perhaps pop into John Lewis on Oxford Street to see if they have any.

She insists on calling them soda bombs.

I tell her I am not taking compressed gas canisters onto an airplane.

She says I am being ridiculous and if I pack the "bombs" in my luggage it should be fine.

Sometimes she really doesn't get it.

Anyway. Let's talk about the weather instead.

Tonight in London it sleeted and sort of snowed some pissy white stuff but the rain then came and washed it all away.

I walked (a bloody long way actually) to the Sainsbury's to go and buy some toothpaste and in the evening night, with the rain-soaked pavements, I felt like Travis Bickle wandering the streets of New York City.

Except it was bloody Kilburn High Road.



If you like these two pictures you can see more of the same on this site.