The Sturdy Soapbox

Stay calm everybody

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Old equation : Town centre pubs = gash beer

Not seen the Chalk master for weeks, so this afternoon, we met up down in town, yes that place I like to steer clear of.

Started off in Wetherspoons, the place much favoured by the drunks of the town, cos the beer's cheep.  It's a dark unpleasant place and you stick to the carpet and furniture.  We purveyed the menu, which was also sticky but Charlie liked the beer.

Then we ducked in to the Varsity.  Sounds like the sort of place you should bounce into wearing your tennis gear, sweater round your shoulders.  Beer not very good.  Even a card they gave us for 25% off the next round could keep us there.

Next came Yate's.  Big thumbs down.  Charlie couldn't even drink the beer and I was struggling with my lager.

Problem is, town centre pubs are "kids" pubs.  I don't mean they can drink under age, but you know the youth of today, they are discerning in nothing, as you can tell by their dress, choice of music etc.

So, they will happily pay approaching three quid for a pint of vinegar as long as it's got a brand name on it and not really know they've been sold a pint of vinegar, til they wake up next morning and it's sharing their bed.

So, next time we arrange a meet, methinks it will have to be a bit farther afield.  For the second time in a week I say what a shit tip.

Take heed you Face Buck fans

Frivolity at last

For some time now, my brother has been threatening to do something frivolous so he and Anita can have a little fun in their twighlight years.  They gave up on the Japanese super car mainly because of the cost of spares.  Then there was the motorbike, which would hardly be fun for Anita.

Today, they finally bought a Rover convertible locally via E Bay, but it was not without incident.  You see, my brother knows nothing at all about computers and Anita still believes they are populated by elves who don't like her.

The bidding on the car descended into Anita screaming at the screen and my brother screaming at Anita.  Fortunately Rebecca was on leave from the RAF and stepped in to complete the bidding and win the car.

Speaking to me later, she told me she'd been doing battle planning in her job all week long and dealing with her parent's ineptitude was a lot harder than planning European theatres of war.

The welder made me laugh today.  I was seeing him this afternoon briefly and awaited his arrival downstairs.  As he came down the street, I spotted from some distance, his St. Georges flag waving proudly in the wind from the roof of his motor.

He very kindly took me to see Bob the Butcher, which saves me both an early morning tomorrow and three pounds thirty bus fare.  I called ahead and just asked Bob to sling some of my regulars in a bag.

He popped a couple of burgers in the bag, one of which I put under the grill for tea.  I thought it was a lamb and mint burger til I tried it.  It was utterly delicious and I thought it was some sort of Thai spice.  I had to call and find out what flavour it was.  The verdict, Kofta kebab flavour.  I urged he does a promotion on them at the shop, as they are truly delicious (and believe me I don't go a bundle on burgers these days). 

Seeing how everyone (the welder included) seems to be getting their barbecues out ready for the summer, I reckon if Bob can create a bit of awareness for the kofta flavoured burgers, they could become a firm favourite.

Defies belief

Yesterday, I had to pop over to my local hospital so they could prick my finger and take a sample of blood.  I had to be there for 11:40.  There was bugger all in the house to eat, so I decided I'd have a quick bite at McDonalds on the way.  Bad choice.

I don't know whether to feel sorry for the company or just concede that this is their target audience, fucking lowlife.  Their looks, their behaviour their lack of manners of any kind.  I am quite surprised McDonalds don't have big blokes in uniforms packing guns or electric cattle prods to shepherd or cull this underclass.

I for one was glad to be out of there and won't be going back any time soon. 

It's one of the reasons I go to Asda and to see Bob the Butcher so early in the day, because the scum hasn't got up and began its rabble rousing at that time of day.  I steer well clear of the town at all other times, so when I am forced to expose myself to this unpleasantness, it does make me wonder just what's  gone wrong. 

As for hanging round shopping centres all day where they do have big blokes to shuffle them about, surely they all can't be on a five finger discount spree ?

Then I saw some guy in a dark suit, strutting his stuff, earpiece, microphone etc, looking like a badly dressed secret service agent.  Mid 30's, head completely shaved with a sort of squiggle tattooed on his bonce, a sort of failed Vin Diesel.    I wondered if this was the new "don't mess with me" look for the streets, especially as I saw a van driver a short time later with the same sort of ID marking on his shiny scalp.  It might work in Hollywood films where the guys are dangerous, drive muscle cars and have their bitch on their arm, but patrolling Clinton Cards looking for shoplifting chavs, naah !

And as a fatty myself, I'm not going to run the risk of the pot calling the kettle black, but I don't wear tight lycra like so many young, immensely fat girls who draw attention to their corpulent condition by doing just that.  We should adopt  "I can has cheeseburger"  as our new town motto. 

The gene pool round here could use a shot of chlorine.  What a shit tip.

Happy St Georges Day

Only if you're English, celebrate St. George's day.

May the Morris men of England thrill your Anglo Saxon heart with joy.  Happy St. Georges day.

This message is available in Punjabi, urdu, Polish, Russian, German and I had to edit out the racist bit at the end...

Be healthy and safe in the workplace or you'll end up on You Tube

Also, don't spend good money on seeing gore movies like Saw, when there's masterful stuff like this to see for free.  Remember, will you be here tomorrow ?

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Soon be Easter, have some choccy

Charlie Chalk sent me an Easter pressie off E Bay.  Not only is it nice to get a choccy egg for Easter (or any other time), but there's a huge mug with Daleks on, which is perfect for my treat of frothy sugar free cocoa.

Had a nice little concert with Wally the Welder, his bro Keith and then Growler and Tarn turned up.

Hardly ever see the Big Un these days and our Tarn even more seldom.

After a busy and very frustrating week, I'm starting Easter early today, but I promised the Chalk Master I won't scoff the egg before Sunday.  Unlike the welder who scoffed his curry last night.  Pat sent me a text to say how much they enjoyed it.  I was pretty happy with the result myself, mild but full of flavour.  It was all I could do, to keep back a portion for Bob the Butcher.

I ask you

First words out of the welder's mouth tonight as I got into his car were  "Is that mar tay yo got there"...  Referring to the bowl of curry I had in my hand.

Well there was enough for Pat as well.  What a piglet.