Ricblog

During a rather boring lunch hour Richard, Benedict and myself invented an amazing stick game, that all the family can enjoy. Here are the rules:

Find a stick that’s about a metre and a half long. Got a stick? Right, make a cup of tea using ONLY the stick. This involves opening the cupboard door, getting the cup off the shelf, putting the cup down on the kitchen work surface, closing the cupboard door, picking up the kettle, turning the tap on, filling the kettle with water, turning the tap off, putting the kettle back on it’s base, switching it on, opening the fridge door, taking out the milk, pouring the milk in the cup, putting the milk back in the fridge, somehow getting the tea bag in the cup, filling the cup with boiling water from the kettle. Remember, you can only use the stick whilst doing this. No hands or legs are allowed to be used. Think it can’t be done? Well, I witnessed Benedict performing this amazing task only a couple of days ago. So why not try it yourself and brighten up those dull tea making moments. Feeling more adventurous? Then why not try the amazing washing line pole game. Got a washing line pole? Right, get drunk and try to get the lawnmower out of the shed using only the washing line pole. This is rather tricky, but I will be trying it again tonight. Changing the subject completely! One of the trainee people, working here today, thought I was 35 years old. Aah, no! As Pete Huxley would say. By the way Pete, we all know you killed Jill Dando, so just own up. Killer!!!!! Hmmmm…….think i’ll have Findus crispy pancakes for tea. Lovely stuff.

Odder – One of my favourite pubs on Oxford Road. Wonderfully decorated and always seems to be full of really fit girls.

Kro Bar – The upstairs is very tasteful, antique style tables and great pictures on the wall. However, the downstairs looks like a school canteen, it’s awful.

Pitcher & Piano – My favourite pub in Manchester. The drinks are a bit pricey, but the decor and layout is superb. The beer garden at the front overlooks some beautiful water features. Also, the staff are lovely and the music is always top notch stuff.

Paramount (Wetherspoons) – Want to snog some cheap tart that’s wasted? Then get yourself down to this place on a Friday night.

Britons Protection – One of the oldest pubs in Manchester. It’s very traditional inside, but it has some very serious faults. The drinks are a rip off!! I can’t read my paper in there cos all the lamps have orange bulbs. The beer garden is a comedy of errors.

Monroes – The place where everyone knows my name. Much like ‘Cheers’, everybody knows everyone else. Very much a regulars pub, the staff are very good friends of mine.

Bull’s Head – You will not find a pub that keeps it’s beers as good as this. The best pint of Guiness in Manchester, by a long way.

Sand Bar – Shit heap!!

Atlas Bar – Very expensive, but has a really nice beer garden. Inside in need of decorating. Looking very 90’s.

Rain Bar – Was a bit of a dive 5 years ago. But I popped in last week and it looked superb. One of the best beer gardens in Manchester, inside looks like a pub should look like with oak tables and antique furniture. Upstairs is not as nice, but often used for functions.

Czech Bar – The emptiest pub in Manchester. However, it has 2 pool tables that are usually empty. Everything is empty about this place.

The Pheonix – Often referred to as ‘The pub of doom’. I actually don’t mind it that much. Always good for a quick game of pool after work. The beer is quite poor, so I always drink bottles in there.

1. What the hell do they do to the beer in there? The Becks I was drinking last night was full of gas. Amstel tastes really odd. The pipes for the Guinness aren’t cleaned often enough, making it taste chalky.

2. There’s no pool table.

3. The jukebox has had the same cds in it for the last 5 years.

4. Someone will always put 5 Smiths songs on in a row. Yes, I mean you Dave!!

5. The toilets are disgusting.

6. The place is a tip. No! Dirty tables, broken chairs, uneven floors and walls that badly need painting does not make a bar ‘cool’.

7. At some point a nutter will come in trying to steal a fag off you.

8. It’s full of pretentious wannabes. I go to the pub to have a good time. Not to overhear some spotty student talkin’ Nietzsche.

9. For some reason Blackwell’s staff seem to get more drunk in the Sandbar than usual. By the end of the night someone will be crying like a big girl’s blouse.

10. When you go for a fag outside, you can’t get back in. Banging on the door making bizarre gestures to a complete stranger seems to be the Sand Bar’s viable solution.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. My prediction that I would be dead before I reached 30 has not come to fruition. And I fully concur with everyone who thinks I only look 19. Bizarre thing is, when I woke up this morning I didn’t give a shit. Maybe because at 12 o’clock last night I spent a good 20 minutes going “ugh ugh i’m 30, fuckin hell Rob, i’m 30 ugh ugh, bloody hell, ugh ugh” Hmmm….just reading that back, i’ve made it sound like I was having sex. Which I wasn’t!! I had one of those bus drivers this morning. You know the one’s I mean. The bus driver that stops at every stop, pulls out his newspaper (and probably something else) and delays everone on the bus, for no real reason at all. Luckily I got an early bus, but it still took nearly an hour. For some reason, on every birthday, I always think that my ex-girlfriends might phone me up and aplogise for being so cruel. Never happens! Anyway moving on, I nearly soiled myself in the staff room before. No, it wasn’t Dave’s french onion soup, but I thought for a moment that David Tennant was switching the lights on in Manchester. Alas, it’s trampsville (Blackpool, to you and I) that is being graced by ‘The Doctor’. Wonder if he’ll arrive in the Tardis. By the way, I got the best chopping board ever off my sister as a birthday present. Also got some Knives to go with it. These Knives must never ever be sharpened!!!!!!! This is true. On the back of the packet it warns me not to even think a about it. I think they should put warnings on everything. I once made a ‘Past N Sauce’ in the microwave. Thinking I had 10 minutes to spare, I went upstairs to have shower. When I came back down the whole thing had exploded in the microwave. Now then, if they’d put a warning on saying ‘Don’t even think about personal hygiene, whilst waiting for this processed crap’ the problem would have been easily avoided. Hmmmm…….think i’ll have pork for tea.

Zippy had a lemon for a head. His lips were actually a huge zip. He was very badly disabled. No legs, one arm and even his remaining arm only had 2 fingers and a thumb. All this was caused by a serious gangland shootout in Jeffrey’s back garden. Sadly George was affected too, picking up the exact same injuries. George was a gay pink hippo, with a lovely range of eye liners. Bungle was a hustler, often found in dirty street alleys. He was also a voyeur and nudist, often refusing to wear clothes. So how did they end up living in the same house? Well,they didn’t. Rainbow was a tv programme and has no connection with reality. sorry.

If there was ever utopia, then surely it would be NETTO. This shop is a work of genius, a masterplan, a momentus achievement. Forget landing on the moon. The man who invented NETTO  is surely bigger and better than that Buzz Aldrin bloke. Who names their child Buzz anyway? As for NETTO, it’s scandinavian for value you know. I do shop at other supermarkets these days, but I always get drawn back to NETTO. As i’m typing this i’m being subjected to the most depressing, self-pitying crap music i’ve ever heard in my entire life. Misery loves company? Fuck Off! Put something decent on, i’m in a bookshop, not therapy. Jesus Christ!!!!!!!!! Anyway,  glad I got that rant out of the way. I was writing about NETTO, but I shall now digress onto the moon landing. I saw a tv program about 2 years ago with this bloke banging on about the moon landings being fake. Y’know he’s probably right. If we could land on the moon in 1969 then why is the 191 bus in the evening always breaking down? Remember that Daily Sport story ‘London Bus lands on the moon’? That was actually true!! . So, it’s 2.30 on a Tuesday afternoon. I’m on my own on the ground floor of the bookshop, being constantly asked questions by plebs that have nothing to do with books. “Can you tell me where the nearest art shop is?” “Is it far to get to the Royal Exchange theatre?” “Can you give me some change for the machine?” What machine? Fruit machine? Condom machine? Life support machine? Go away, i’m busy writing this. And turn that bloody ‘music’ off. Bah…….!

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I’m turning 30 on Thursday. I love that phrase ‘turning 30′ it implies i’ll wake up with a new face and i’ll have arms like Popeye. Sadly this is not the case, i’ll wake up to find my bed full of bits again. Where do they come from? I don’t even eat in bed. I remember turning 20 and being so excited. It’s really not the same at 30. Here is a few things i’ve noticed during the last couple of weeks:

I can remember 1989 week for week, but struggle to remember what I did last month.

I’ve started tutting at teenagers on the bus, usually for no reason at all.

I can’t work out how to use the self service till at ASDA. Last week a teenage girl had to guide me through it, like a was a retarded old man.

Everyone at work talks about TV programmes i’ve never heard of.

I’ve started saying things like ‘ I don’t think that’s really my scene’ and ‘It’s not got a tune,  and he’s not singing properly’

I talk about the 1980’s as if it was yesterday.

When I get out of my chair at home I make sex sounds.

Anyway, as I was saying, i’m 30 this week. Hurrah….but what exactly am I supposed to be celebrating?

‘Well done, you’re  so old you’re not even able to audition for Hollyoaks’ Actually, I made have hit that stage several years ago.                                                                                        Apparently hitting 30 is a false alarm. I’ll wake up on Thursday to find nothing has changed. Half my bed will be full of stuff as usual and at some point in the night I will have caused Rob some alarm that I might be sleep walking. Oh, I will be out for a few drinks on Thursday night. But bloody hell………….I don’t want a party!

1. The first girl I kissed was Rachel Reynolds. As I pulled away from the passionate embrace I dribbled down her chin. Lovely stuff!

2. At Didsbury Road School I decided to stick a piece of Lego up my nose. Laughing so hard I sniffed the whole thing up my nostril. Yet another trip to the hospital!

3. On a school trip to Hawkshead during the mid 80’s Mr Buckley told us all a horror story before we all went to bed. I was so scared I refused to sleep with the other kids, and ended up sleeping with the teachers. This wouldn’t be allowed these days.

4. At Heaton Moor Infant school during assembly I laughed so hard I crapped and pissed myself at the same time. If this wasn’t bad enough the hall was at a slope, so all the other kids got covered in it too!

5. When I was 15 I would buy porn mags from the newsagent. I would then sell them to fellow lady lovers for 20p a page, I made a fortune.

6. I once found a used condom in Mrs Cheethams desk drawer!!!!!!!!!!!!!

7. I nicknamed Mrs Joule as Mrs Turnip Head. She is still at Priestnall school and retained that nickname.

8. During a fashion lesson I started spitting on the iron, cos it made it fizz and jump around. Sadly I got too close to the iron and burnt my face…..quite badly!

9. When I had my BCG injection I later fainted  in the classroom.

10. I was the only person in our year at Didsbury Road School to fail the cycling proficiency test. How ironic!!

11. I once called Lee Booth a fat bastard. As a result he threw me through a classroom door.

12. I fancied Mrs Millward like crazy!

13. During a very cold winter I was given a dare to walk across the frozen school pond. You can guess what happened next.

14. With security in mind I fitted a padlock to my locker. When I came back at the end of the day everything had been stolen, including the padlock.

15.  At Priestnall School I laboured long and hard making an apple crumble. Upon my exit from the school gates a fifth year girl put her fag out in it.

16. For Drama I developed a dance routine to accompany ‘Fame’ by David Bowie. You will never see this dancing ever again.!!!

17. I was in a school play called ‘The Ugly Bug Ball’. I wore a black bin liner and not much else. It ripped during performace and everyone could see my underpants!

18. I loved Catherine Woolley right through school,  1981-1993. A truly special person, I miss you very much Catherine x