Happy New Year and All that...

Well another year comes and goes, and after 2001, we're into our second special Sci-fi year - and there's still no sign of any flying cars!

Were the authors / makers of those books and films miles off course, or are these amazing products being kept from us. (We may have computers in a mobile phone - but where's the 3 course meal in a single pill?)

Anyway, I guess the next milestone year is 2019, and the world of Bladerunner? Will there be androids running about a rain swept California and yet more flying cars? Well we've got the rain here in Manchester so if everyone else could just catch up please.

That said, I suppose it could all finish in the year 2012 so maybe I should just start building my own ark!

As to a new years resolution - I promise to write more.... but don't hold your breath - I may just be finishing the prototype astromech droid to serve drinks at my next bar-be-que!

Happy New Year all!

FOOTBALLER CELEBRATES GOAL!!!

As a footnote to a couple of my previous blogs, and as I appear to be on a bit of a run in updating this at the moment, I woulds like to touch upon the antics of a certain David Nugent.

Mr Nugent currently plays for Burnley, and was a substitute in their recent game at Eastlands. Throughout his warm up in front of the corner of the South Stand where I sit he was continually jeered and abused.

Nothing to serious, or say to the Cantona level of abuse, but every time he jogged back toward us he woulds have a big grin on his face ands maybe even a wink for us.

Needless to say he was subbed on and set up the equaliser with 4 minutes to go.

As all his team mates rushed to the Burnley fans, Mr Nugent made a slight detour in our direction to again smile and wave to those who had been mocking him all game.

Adebayor it wasn't...but it was nice he remembereds us before going to join his team mates.

In defence of our wayward striker - that is what football is all about. It's about passion, it's about putting one over on the other team, its about talking points.

Bring on Arsenal in the Carling Cup!

I Really am an Old man. Part 35

As mentioned in my previous blog (Yesterday - I know - amazing!) I am currently on a two week break from work to settle in to the new house, get some jobs done and spend a bit of quality time with the family.

With this in mind I decided to take the chaps from work up on an invite to a night out in Manchester, leaving the wife, one grouchy and one poorly child at home(!)

What a strange and disturbing experience it was.

It was a good crowd I was out with, about 10 of us, of which one female, 4 gay, 3 over 30 (No I wasn't the oldest!) the rest in their twenties, and we started in a bar cum restaurant in the Printworks in Manchester. We all caught up on what had been happening in work and my holiday so far in a nice atmosphere, even if the music was a little loud.

As the beers slowly went down for every one relaxed and a couple of the younger guys got all excited when the song "Since You've been gone" came on - an old, somewhat upbeat AOR track I remember from my youth. After some head scratching the mobile phones came out as people hooked up to the internet to find out who the band singing.

We'd clearly be no good cheating at a pub quiz, as about half way through the next song we finally found out / realised / remembered it was Rainbow, Ritchie Blackmores band from the late seventies/early eighties. Half the guys rocking out to it weren't even born when it was released.

Oh well. I guess around then it was decided that as we could all still hear each others conversations and we had been there for more than two drinks, we'd better move on somewhere else. I've noticed this as a feature of the odd nightout I've been on in the last few years, no one stays put any more! It's like a constant view or feeling that the grass is always greener, and the next bar will be that little bit more exciting.

Why can't people just stay put? Whatever happened to finding yourself a corner in a friendly pub or bar and settling in for the night?

We all trooped out of the bar and around the corner and stood about in the cold trying to decide where to next. So many of these nights seem to revolve around standing about outside wondering what to do next.

I managed to show myself up again in front of a couple of the young guys (even one of the gay chaps) by not standing with my tongue hanging out as two young ladies, in two very short glittery dresses. All I could think was - "Where's their coats? They'll catch a cold dressed like that in November!"

Now that was either the Dad in me coming out, or I've just been exposed to too much porn and don't feel the urge to oogle girls in the street.

Anyway, into "Norwegian Blue" where you really couldn't hear yourself think for the loud music. This again is a bar cum restaurant. Why oh why would you want o have your ears bleed with it?

There was a group of 10-15 middle aged women all wearing matching pink top hats which, believe it or not, didn't need the legend "Hen party" written on them - we could tell.

After a drink or two a song came on, a cover of the intro song out of the film Pulp Fiction. Although recognisable as the song, every bit of it had some singing or rapping or something else going on over the top of it. a couple of songs later and I discovered that all teh music was like this. Every second of every song had to have lots going on, like everyones attention span is that short if you just pause people will wander off.

On my way into town earlier that evening I'd been listening to "Loveless" by My Bloody Valentine, an eighties/nineties indie band. There are 5 minute tracks of just distortion on a single note with slight tonal changes every so often. You can just let it wash over you as you sink deeper and deeper in.

I'm guessing it's no good for bars in the Printworks.

Oh well. Half past nine my ears could take little more, I said my goodbyes and left.. to drive home listening to noise and feedback at maximum volume in the comfort of my car!

Reason 36 coming soon.

We're finally in...and the DIY begins

Well after what felt like an age crawling through the house buying mire we are finally in and the real work begins!

Having moved in just over a month ago now (See I'm not just slow doing this blog you know!) I've finally managed to get some time off work to actually spend some time here, help look after the boys, and do a few of those little jobs to make the house a home.

Several days in and I can tell you what deep down I really already knew.

I hate DIY and - hand on heart - I'm not very good at it.

I really think with the time and the right tools I could probably make a good fist of things... but these things just snowball don't they?

Anyone who saw the front door at our old house will know what I mean.

I'm currently busy re-hanging doors. Yep. A disaster just waiting to happen.

Having bought a house which is on a bit of a slant doesn't really help...

When I'm not breaking stuff with paint and tools I've been spending quite a lot of time handing money over to IKEA. I'm not sure how we've managed to spend over £1000 without buying anyone big piece of furniture!

On our latest visit we fell for the classic "Eye's bigger than" trap of thinking my Honda Civic is a Ford Transit van.

After stacking the trolley high with bookcases and cupboards and all sorts of other assorted tat, we got to the car and started the jigsaw job of fitting it all in, along with the wife and a baby (we managed to "Leave" Wilf with the grand parents) I set about putting seats down, and seats forward, and baby chairs in, and baby chairs out, all in the pouring rain I'd like to point out. (Why does it always rain in situations like this?)

At one point it was agreed that Beth and Eddy would have to stay behind (in the cafe of course) whilst I drove home, emptied the car and drove back to collect them.

With this in mind, we still couldn't actually fit everything in.

A good 45 minutes in, we conceded defeat and tail tucked firmly between our legs we sheepishly made our way to the home delivery office, conveniently located just yards from the area in which we'd been struggling. I wonder how many people they film and submit the videos to you've been framed.

My wallet another £40 lighter we left to await delivery at the weekend! and then the fun can really begin!

As a footnote to this story, whilst picking up random stuff at the Swedish supermarket I saw a nice 6 pick of wine glasses for £2.99 - a bargain - and as we've only got 3 left from the previous set - and I do hate mis matched glasses - I chucked them into the trolley.

They make it through the car loading scenario, all the way home, just ready for me to drop them on the way in.

3 broken, 3 survivors - so now we've got 6 mismatching glasses!

Doh! - where did I put that bottle opener.. .

Well, Well, Well, I didn't See That Coming...

My mind was drawn back to the dark days of our City's brief return to the premiership in 2000-01, when a visit from Arsenal was something to be truly feared.

4-0 down within 20 minutes I seem to remember - the only highlight a pair of streakers in the 2nd half.

Things have improved a little since then, culminating in the 3-0 victory at a similar time last season.

So on to today. I really didn't know what to expect. After our 100% winning start to the season, would this be when we were found out - or when we could really begin to believe we may be in with a chance.

A six goal thriller was the result and a fourth league win on the trot for City.

As to a match report, I'm sure you can read plenty of those elsewhere, but I would like to touch on some of the controversies that surrounded the game, and in particular, surrounded A certain Mr Adebayor.

A slightly ill judged goal celebration, but hey, I don't have to answer to any higher ethical media watch dog - it was absolutely priceless!

To run the length of the pitch to celebrate on your own, in front of the fans who turned on you the season before and had goaded you from the first whistle, was truly worth every penny of the admission charge!

Within today's, stupid, rules he rightly got booked - but my only concern is the fact that Van Persie didn't get booked for goading and celebrating in front of the city fans in the corner of the Colin Bell and South stand. he did not celebrate with his team mates he turned to, and clearly mouthed obscenities at, the City fans.

On the subject of Van Persie, he truly is the new Craig Bellemay(!) - I really cannot think of a more whinging, whining, cheating player in the premier league at the moment.

His comments released after the match regarding his clash with Adebayor (Where he had recklessly thrown himself at the City Man) absolutely scream of Sour grapes.

If anything comes of this complaint it will prove that the top four do truly still have the ear of the (London based) Media, and the FA.

I will be truly fuming , and may even have to write to my local MP on the matter (Who I know is a City fan!)

Anyway to finish on (very) cheap gag, I give you the winner of the Edinburgh Comedy festival one liner competition -

"Hedgehogs: Why can't they just learn to share."

p.s. I came across this picture last week from a UEFA conference or something, can you guess who has just realised he's got the worst seat in the place?

Justa quickie...

I've been meaning to post some stuff up here for so long about my wonderful wife Beth. In so many ways I really do think there is nobody like her in the world.

One are in which she excels is in suffering fools far more than she should (maybe that's why she married me)

An example of this is the lengths she will go to with people phoning to sell us stuff. Not all the times, but if she is in the mood, she will engage them truthfully and at length answering their questions until they normally give up when they realise we have no money.

This was beaten when she was "accosted" in the streets of Sale by a Mormon.

"Would you like to talk about Jesus?" he asked,

"No, sorry I'm in a bit of a rush," and she continued on her way.

50 yards further on, she is stopped again by another chap in matching white shirt and black suit, "Would you like to talk about Jesus?", quick as a flash - "Lucky you should ask, but there's a guy back there wanting to talk about God!"

By the time he realised that Beth meant his fellow Morman, she was long gone.

This was surpased this week when she was stopped by a someone from Greenpeace.

The conversation went something like this...

GREENPEACE:Would you like to donate some money to help save the whales?

BETH: Not really, I think the welsh should be able to look after themselves.

GP(Unfazed): I notice you have a young family?

(No fooling this guy as Beth was pushing Eddy in his push chair)

GP: Would you like them to enjoy sea food when they grow up?

BETH(Now a little intrigued): I guess so...

GP: Well, are you aware that in the over fishing of fish such as Tuna, their stocks are going to be depleated, and as a side affect the number of Dolphins and whales caught in the nets is leading them to extinction.

BETH: And where do I come in to this?

GP: By donating £2 a month it will enable us to cut down on the over fishing and help make safer nets to stop the wrong fish being caught.

BETH: and what happens to the Whales and Dolphins?

GP: Well, they're going to be extinct and -

BETH: But what actually happens to the carcasses of the Whales and Dolphins?

GP: Well, err, I erm guess they're or dumped, anyway, that's not the point...

BETH: Well, I think it is really. Why don't we eat the Dolphins and Whales?

GP:(Shocked) Eat... Flipper?

BETH: It seems a double waste that once they've been caught and killed we just dump the bodies. surely if we ate all that we caught, then we wouldn't need to overfish the other species. Why don't we save the cod? Whales are taking up more ocean than they are - doesn't really seem fair.

By this point the Greenpeace chap was backing away clutching his clipboard.

I believe they are putting up posters of my wife around Sale, warning street vendors not to talk to her...

FOR SALE!

No don't worry - I haven't forgotten everything Bill Hicks taught me and finally sold my (worthless) soul to the highest advertising bid - worse than that I'm trying to sell the family house and join the moving chain to pastures new!

People always say how hard it is buying or selling a house, and you think, maybe so, but doing it again now mid chain, I can see what they mean but in a totally different way.

Let me explain... Preparing for a viewing is a nightmare. Whether this is just our house, or across the board I don't know, but our house is not a show home, and we're happy with that, but the thought of strangers coming into your house and "judging" makes you feel that you must make it into one...

We start cleaning areas that have never seen a duster, cleaning the tops of cupboards that no one will see, hiding stuff in cupboards or under beds. No joke - before a viewing today I was stuffing a pile of dirty clothes into the bottom of a wardrobe - and found a stack of un-ironed shirts which had been stuffed there before a previous visit!

Even Wilf, my 3 year old son commented that we ere crazy when he spotted the hair dryer in the washing machine. In fact the reason I haven't blogged for so long is because we lost the PC... or something like that.

Anyway, on to the first visit. Ten minutes before the potential buyers are due to arrive hot water starts pouring through the ceiling in the hallway. For those who know me, plumbing disasters aren't anything that new but I wasn't prepared for this. It was right where people walk, and could very audibly be heard plopping!

After switching off the water and wrapping a towel around the guilty pipe, the viewers arrive wander about and leave.

I don't think anything prepares you for the feedback. "It's a bit small" - it's a two bedroom terrace - what did you expect! At least they didn't mention the wet patch.

A couple more viewings and much the same mad cap running about tidying(hiding) stuff away and still nothing. The last but one viewing, a Mr Lawson. His feedback - "The decor all needs updating"

A fair comment some may say, but the guy was in his 70's! I don't need a coffin dodger giving me style tips! People watch a couple of home style programmes on the TV and they all think they're Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen - I'm not sure how much of this I can take - and where's that spanner gone again!