Thursday, 28 July 2011

The Revenge of Frankenstein's Dinner, When Polite Conversation Goes Too Far, and Three Piece Suite is a Crowd.

I may have to dash off at a moment's notice. In the Bar of my stomach,  tonight's dinner is causing trouble and is in danger of being thrown out - through either the main entrance, or out the back with the rubbish (if you get my drift). What worries me is that it might try to leave by both exits at once.

 Tonight I finished off the second half of my now infamous "What's Left In The Cupboard" Bolognese - and I'm regretting it. I have a slight cramp, and my stomach is making some very odd gurgling noises. This "Frankenstein" of a meal, made up of individual components that never belonged together, is wreaking havoc. In the 1931 classic "Frankenstein", the monster is chased into old windmill, which is then set alight, burning the creature to death. Maybe a really hot curry would have the same effect on my 'creation', but I'm not prepared to try it.


I did have a nasty taste in my mouth though, so I decided to see if some chocolate might help. In my experience, chocolate can help with most things - sadness, frustration, loneliness, boredom, lack of inspiration, the controversial Evolution vs Creationism debate. You name it - chocolate can fix it.
So I am in Co-Op at the checkout, and I decide to buy some Lottery Tickets with my chocolate.  I don't mean pay for them with my chocolate - I mean buy the tickets as well as the chocolate.
Anyway, as the assistant is getting my tickets, the man queueing behind me says "You're not going to win you know - I am". Now, this is standard procedure. Whenever you are behind someone getting lottery tickets, you have to tell them that they can't win, because it is your turn. It's a kind of un-written rule. So I wasn't surprised when I heard this man say this to me.
Being a friendly kind of guy, I didn't punch him to the floor, but engaged in a brief light hearted conversation. Well it started out light hearted - but then I sort of spoilt the mood somewhat. We were going back and forth about how I was going to win, and him saying no he was etc. and then for some reason I said
"You watch me win. And when I do, I'm going to get publicity and when they give me the cheque on telly I'm going to look into the camera and say 'take that, bloke in the queue at Co-Op!'" And as I said that, I blew a raspberry.

And stuck two fingers up at him.

Right in his face.

I don't know why I did that. I just got a little carried away with the jollity and the friendliness of it all, and ended up insulting a complete stranger.

The smile on the man's face evaporated faster than.......the liquid that evaporates fastest in the whole world (Liquid Helium appears to be a contender), and all he said was "We'll see." I knew that I had overstepped the mark by a good mile or so, so I took my tickets, mumbled the words "no offence", and left as quickly as possible.

I tell you something - at this moment in my life, when it comes to making myself look like a complete git, I'm doing with both my eyes shut and one arm behind my back (metaphorically speaking).

When I moved into my home I bought a new 3 piece suite from DFS. I got a Three Seater Sofa, an Armchair and a Tub Chair. I fully intended to use all three pieces, but have discovered that I am actually neglecting one of them.

The Sofa
This is my sofa. The seat on the left is where I am sitting while I type this blog. It's also the seat where I watch TV, eat my dinner, and scratch myself.
I have actually had four people on this sofa once. Not in the biblical sense. But this sofa is the main seating object in my lounge. The stripy green cushions were purchased by me separately, and they go rather well with the curtains, don't you think?

Tub Chair
The Tub Chair is also in my lounge - but I don't sit on it myself. I keep it for visitors who don't want to sit next to me on the sofa, or for visitors who can't fit on the sofa with four of our already on it. When I recently had friends over too watch the Haye vs Klitschko fight, the tub chair was in prime location to see the action.
I wasn't sitting in it.

Armchair - neglected
 My Armchair is upstairs in my bedroom facing my bed. To be honest, as you can see, I use it as a dumping ground. At the moment it has a washing basket full of clean clothes on it, and the jeans a t-shirt I wore last night. It has only been sat in twice - once by me, and once by my mate Steve who said that one night he would break in and be sitting there looking at me when I woke up the next morning. In  just his pants.
I keep leaving my bedroom window open, but he never shows.

I feel a little bad about neglecting my Armchair - not only because I'm still paying for the Suite and should be getting all the use out of it I can, but also because the Armchair would be a good place to sit and write my blog, write some stand up, and do sign language. In the lounge it's too easy to distract myself by turning on the TV or the Wii

I think I'll try it out over the weekend. Who knows? I might be inspired to write something amazing.....

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