The Olympic Coverage Avoidance Gold Medalist 2012

A phone call from Geoff.
'You watching the opening ceremony tonight?'
'What ... the one for the Olympics?'
'No, for the new brand of Lucozade Toblerone. Yes, of course for the Olympics.'
'Is that tonight then?'
'Yes. Paul McCartney, Kenneth Branagh and Mr Bean, with David Beckham on a speedboat.'
'I'm a bit busy tonight.'
'Why, what you doing?'
'Trimming my beard.'
'All night?'
'Haven't you seen how long it's got?'
'No, I don't buy the Guardian. Why don't you trim it tomorrow.'
'Can't. Too busy tomorrow.'
'Doing what?'
'Clipping my nails.'
'All day?'
'Haven't you seen how long they've got?'
'You just don't want to watch it do you Adrian.'
'No I don't.'
'And you're making excuses because you somehow feel anti-social and a killjoy for not wanting to watch it.'
'Yes, that's right.'
'Fair enough. Bye Adrian.'
'Ta-ra Geoff.'

The Olympics - He's not into it either

Port Eliot Festival – A Religious Experience

Church. It was packed to the rafters. I don't even know what rafters are but if there are rafters in a church - it was packed to 'em. And there wasn't a wedding/funeral/christening/harvest festival/recording of a Sunday night ITV drama in sight. It's Port Eliot Festival and this wonderful festival has its own church as a music stage.

A blue-grass band were cutting bluegrass up at the alter whilst we lounged in the pews supping on plastic pints of ale. We were having a rare old time when ... DISASTERIA STRUCK!

David dropped his full pint all over the floor. God's floor. I felt sorry for David because:
a) He was really embarrassed
b) The poor lad was out of beer

What would God do I thought. He'd tell David to pick up his empty glass and then he'd pour half of his own pint into it. So that is exactly what I did, but then ... DOUBLE DISASTERIA!

David's glass now had a large crack in the bottom and my half pint went right through it to join David's pint on the church floor.

We laughed. Oh, how we laughed! We laughed like naughty school kids playing hooky behind the bike sheds, with our ties ripped off and massive reefers hanging out of out gormless little mouths.

That is until we noticed what was happening on the floor. Our combined spillage had formed into a pattern resembling Jesus – dressed as a referee, holding up two yellow cards. I looked at David, we held out our hands apologetically to the wet floor, hung our heads in shame, muttered a few words and turned back sheepishly to face the bluegrass band.

To be honest, though I thought it harsh at the time, in hindsight, we were very lucky not to get red cards. It just goes to prove that Jesus is indeed a good man and a damn fair referee to boot.

Don't Believe Everything You Read

It's the local beer festival tomorrow. I thought about not drinking beer for a few days before it. I read in Men's Health, or whatever it was, that you should have two consecutive days off booze every week. But sod that. Surely it is more healthy for Men to drink steadily throughout the week rather than suddenly shocking the system by stopping and starting again. The 'system' won't know where it stands. Common sense surely? Last time I read Men's Health, or whatever it was, I tell thee.

Can The Winner Take All?

I've often wondered whether one could make a living on the back of winning competitions. Obviously you would have to win cash prizes to pay for your accommodation – unless you were relentlessly winning holidays that conveniently butted up with each other.

For all the other stuff – food, drink, clothes, ornaments and stationery – it seems a viable option, especially now we have the internet at our disposal. It's a game of percentages. Enter a thousand competitions a day and surely you'll win something, even if it only happens to be a years supply of elastic bands. Every Little Helps.

Today I decided I would give it a go. The plan was the enter around 50 online competitions. However, I soon got sidetracked by a wasp and by the time I'd stopped chatting with him I was starving so had to venture to the Co-op where one thing lead to another and before I knew it I was sitting in the pub thinking what a damn stupid idea it was.