Day 106
For the second successive day I was forced to drive into town and do the shopping.
Even though I have to question the wife’s reasoning (and indeed sanity) for demanding I complete this task yet again, I complied with her wishes and spent a couple of minutes wandering around the food aisles and a couple of hours in the booze section.
However, today’s post does not concern the alcohol I noticed when I was walking around the store but something I became aware of when I left it.
It happened when I decided it would be a novel idea to fortify myself with a swift pint of beer after battling against housewives and kids in the store.
Luckily the pub is only about fifty yards from the supermarket so rather than trying to stagger there with several bags of groceries, I loaded up one of the trolleys and took it with me. There were hundreds of people milling around, all going about their lunchtime business with little concern for either their surroundings or each other…until one of them walked into a massive pile of dog shit, performed a double salco and ended up sprawled on the road with poo smeared all over his back.
With typical English consideration, no one bothered to assist the poor fellow although quite a few did momentarily stop to have a laugh at his misfortune
I can understand the rationality behind this.
After all, who would want to help someone get back to their feet in a show of kindness and humanity only to discover their hands had been covered in crap?
Now, I’ve slipped on shit on several occasions when the cat was roaming around the house but when it happens in a public place where scores of people are able to witness it, the entertainment factor increases dramatically.
I swerved around the accident and entered the pub. The landlord is a friend of mine and was not surprised to see me accompanied with a shopping trolley. I subsequently sat down with my drink and contemplated the situation.
I was born in a quiet rural community surrounded by fields and livestock and never once trod in a turd, so I have to ask the question: why is it that there is hardly any shit in the countryside where animals are everywhere and yet you can’t walk in a city centre without performing a slalom to avoid the numerous piles of crap?
I have therefore come to the only logical conclusion after weighing up all the possible alternatives:
Perverts roam the streets during the hours of darkness and drop their pants every ten yards to take a dump.
If this theory is correct it also means they must have some kind of inside help from the closed circuit television controllers who monitor the cameras overseeing the streets, otherwise the courts would be full of video evidence to convict the offenders; although I’m not entirely sure what the charge would be.
Toileting with intent? Illegal tipping? Dump and disorderly?
Anyway, I finished my drink and went home to find Mrs. Snowman feeling considerably better even though she was still moving around like an extra from “Michael Jackson’s Thriller”. I grabbed something to eat and got down to the serious business of making a fool of myself at the poker tables.
Game One went quite badly, Game Two went a little worse and Game Three was a fucking disaster. After the bad beats over the past few days I decided I would only play premium starters: pocket 10’s or higher, A-K or A-Q suited. This plan worked perfectly until I was actually dealt one these hands. I got K-K in mid-position and raised three times the big blind. I was re-raised twice my bet and called. The flop came down 8-K-6 rainbow and I bet the pot. My opponent re-raised all-in and I called to see him turn over 9-5 off!! What kind of moron bets like that with such a rubbish starting hand? The answer is simple; the kind of donkey that sees a 7 on the river and knocks me out with a straight. Much the same happened in the other two games and my investment of $7.70 soon disappeared into the wallets of other players.
And I use the term ‘players’ quite wrongly.
So all in all the cards were very much like the incident I witnessed after the shopping trip…shitty.
Tomorrow I have to take my brother-in-law to the airport as he has a business trip to Manila; this means I need to leave the house at 9.00am in order to get him there in time. To the vast majority of the population this wouldn’t present any kind of a problem but the majority doesn’t have to sleep next to a wife who snores louder than a jet aircraft taking off. If I manage to get four hours sleep I should be able to get there and make the comparison.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $0.24
Even though I have to question the wife’s reasoning (and indeed sanity) for demanding I complete this task yet again, I complied with her wishes and spent a couple of minutes wandering around the food aisles and a couple of hours in the booze section.
However, today’s post does not concern the alcohol I noticed when I was walking around the store but something I became aware of when I left it.
It happened when I decided it would be a novel idea to fortify myself with a swift pint of beer after battling against housewives and kids in the store.
Luckily the pub is only about fifty yards from the supermarket so rather than trying to stagger there with several bags of groceries, I loaded up one of the trolleys and took it with me. There were hundreds of people milling around, all going about their lunchtime business with little concern for either their surroundings or each other…until one of them walked into a massive pile of dog shit, performed a double salco and ended up sprawled on the road with poo smeared all over his back.
With typical English consideration, no one bothered to assist the poor fellow although quite a few did momentarily stop to have a laugh at his misfortune
I can understand the rationality behind this.
After all, who would want to help someone get back to their feet in a show of kindness and humanity only to discover their hands had been covered in crap?
Now, I’ve slipped on shit on several occasions when the cat was roaming around the house but when it happens in a public place where scores of people are able to witness it, the entertainment factor increases dramatically.
I swerved around the accident and entered the pub. The landlord is a friend of mine and was not surprised to see me accompanied with a shopping trolley. I subsequently sat down with my drink and contemplated the situation.
I was born in a quiet rural community surrounded by fields and livestock and never once trod in a turd, so I have to ask the question: why is it that there is hardly any shit in the countryside where animals are everywhere and yet you can’t walk in a city centre without performing a slalom to avoid the numerous piles of crap?
I have therefore come to the only logical conclusion after weighing up all the possible alternatives:
Perverts roam the streets during the hours of darkness and drop their pants every ten yards to take a dump.
If this theory is correct it also means they must have some kind of inside help from the closed circuit television controllers who monitor the cameras overseeing the streets, otherwise the courts would be full of video evidence to convict the offenders; although I’m not entirely sure what the charge would be.
Toileting with intent? Illegal tipping? Dump and disorderly?
Anyway, I finished my drink and went home to find Mrs. Snowman feeling considerably better even though she was still moving around like an extra from “Michael Jackson’s Thriller”. I grabbed something to eat and got down to the serious business of making a fool of myself at the poker tables.
Game One went quite badly, Game Two went a little worse and Game Three was a fucking disaster. After the bad beats over the past few days I decided I would only play premium starters: pocket 10’s or higher, A-K or A-Q suited. This plan worked perfectly until I was actually dealt one these hands. I got K-K in mid-position and raised three times the big blind. I was re-raised twice my bet and called. The flop came down 8-K-6 rainbow and I bet the pot. My opponent re-raised all-in and I called to see him turn over 9-5 off!! What kind of moron bets like that with such a rubbish starting hand? The answer is simple; the kind of donkey that sees a 7 on the river and knocks me out with a straight. Much the same happened in the other two games and my investment of $7.70 soon disappeared into the wallets of other players.
And I use the term ‘players’ quite wrongly.
So all in all the cards were very much like the incident I witnessed after the shopping trip…shitty.
Tomorrow I have to take my brother-in-law to the airport as he has a business trip to Manila; this means I need to leave the house at 9.00am in order to get him there in time. To the vast majority of the population this wouldn’t present any kind of a problem but the majority doesn’t have to sleep next to a wife who snores louder than a jet aircraft taking off. If I manage to get four hours sleep I should be able to get there and make the comparison.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $0.24