Drink Sangria In The Park...
Well… no… I didn’t, but the rest of the day was damn near perfect…
9:24am Wake after nine glorious hours of peaceful, unbroken sleep and realise I’m still on holiday.
9:25am Have bladder-emptying ritual of biblical proportions because of the whole nine-hour, unbroken-sleep thing.
9:32am Make delicious cup of my tea in my favourite f#ck-work-I’m-still-on-holiday mug.
9.36am Enjoy bowl of Honey Nut Corn Flakes… (singalong now) “they’re tasty, tasty, very very tasty…”
9:58am Postman arrives. No bills. No ‘pre-approved’ credit card applications. No please-save-the-orphan-lesbian-whale charity collection sacks. Just pleasant correspondence from people I actually know.
10:14am Enter shower.
10:18am ?!@~{+}*&^%$£”#;!!!!!!
10:29am Exit shower.
10:58am Pack car with golf clubs and CDs.
11:08am Slide into Dixie Chicks… CD.. select.. stereo.. player.. and.. (Not sure the syntax or grammar is quite right there?)
11:43am Arrive at golf club.
11:58am Sun comes out.
11:59am Launch 280-yard drive effortlessly down first fairway.
2:32pm Tap in final putt for two-over par round.
2:40pm Drive out of golf club as first spots of rain appear.
3:05pm Arrive in Glasgow city centre and find parking spot straight away.
3:23pm Enter Starbucks to find absolutely NO queue. Order four-shot venti caramel macchiato (extra hot) from gorgeous-smiling barista (extra hot).
3:38pm Wander down Buchanan Street and get lured into Apple store by unexplainable retailing tractor beam, so sleek and seductive that I end up wanting to marry every fixture and fitting in the place.
4:01pm Power of fiendish tractor beam broken by God as heavens open and tropical thunder storm of… um… biblical proportions explodes on Glasgow. No sh#t, I have NEVER seen or heard anything remotely like it in this country EVER before. Previously.
4:06pm Defy God and cheat death by running through flooded, electrified streets to my favourite sports shop – Greaves – to look for new Sweden away strip. They only have the home strip and I SO do not do yellow!
4:28pm Return to car just before tropical thunderstorm turns into giant hail storm… what the f…?
4:59pm Arrive at friends’ house armed with lashings of Cadbury’s chocolate buttons, some of which are for them.
5:15pm Chug on ice cold bottle of Corona.
5:58pm Tuck into second helping of delicious home-made lasagna.
7:24pm Leave for home on what turns out to be stunning, sun-kissed evening.
8:24pm Have bath.
8:50pm Get feet up and watch Man U go through to Champions League final.
10:06pm Turn computer on and have nice “chat” with lovely girl thousands of miles away.
10:39pm Wee brother calls from America and shoot breeze about all things golf-related. He’s off to see Goldfrapp in New York tonight. Now is that the one with Sean Connery or Roger Moore?
11:43pm Finish emails and writing.
11:55pm Go to bed to dream of silky golf swing, hot barista girl and what a nice day it was to turn 44 years of age.
9:24am Wake after nine glorious hours of peaceful, unbroken sleep and realise I’m still on holiday.
9:25am Have bladder-emptying ritual of biblical proportions because of the whole nine-hour, unbroken-sleep thing.
9:32am Make delicious cup of my tea in my favourite f#ck-work-I’m-still-on-holiday mug.
9.36am Enjoy bowl of Honey Nut Corn Flakes… (singalong now) “they’re tasty, tasty, very very tasty…”
9:58am Postman arrives. No bills. No ‘pre-approved’ credit card applications. No please-save-the-orphan-lesbian-whale charity collection sacks. Just pleasant correspondence from people I actually know.
10:14am Enter shower.
10:18am ?!@~{+}*&^%$£”#;!!!!!!
10:29am Exit shower.
10:58am Pack car with golf clubs and CDs.
11:08am Slide into Dixie Chicks… CD.. select.. stereo.. player.. and.. (Not sure the syntax or grammar is quite right there?)
11:43am Arrive at golf club.
11:58am Sun comes out.
11:59am Launch 280-yard drive effortlessly down first fairway.
2:32pm Tap in final putt for two-over par round.
2:40pm Drive out of golf club as first spots of rain appear.
3:05pm Arrive in Glasgow city centre and find parking spot straight away.
3:23pm Enter Starbucks to find absolutely NO queue. Order four-shot venti caramel macchiato (extra hot) from gorgeous-smiling barista (extra hot).
3:38pm Wander down Buchanan Street and get lured into Apple store by unexplainable retailing tractor beam, so sleek and seductive that I end up wanting to marry every fixture and fitting in the place.
4:01pm Power of fiendish tractor beam broken by God as heavens open and tropical thunder storm of… um… biblical proportions explodes on Glasgow. No sh#t, I have NEVER seen or heard anything remotely like it in this country EVER before. Previously.
4:06pm Defy God and cheat death by running through flooded, electrified streets to my favourite sports shop – Greaves – to look for new Sweden away strip. They only have the home strip and I SO do not do yellow!
4:28pm Return to car just before tropical thunderstorm turns into giant hail storm… what the f…?
4:59pm Arrive at friends’ house armed with lashings of Cadbury’s chocolate buttons, some of which are for them.
5:15pm Chug on ice cold bottle of Corona.
5:58pm Tuck into second helping of delicious home-made lasagna.
7:24pm Leave for home on what turns out to be stunning, sun-kissed evening.
8:24pm Have bath.
8:50pm Get feet up and watch Man U go through to Champions League final.
10:06pm Turn computer on and have nice “chat” with lovely girl thousands of miles away.
10:39pm Wee brother calls from America and shoot breeze about all things golf-related. He’s off to see Goldfrapp in New York tonight. Now is that the one with Sean Connery or Roger Moore?
11:43pm Finish emails and writing.
11:55pm Go to bed to dream of silky golf swing, hot barista girl and what a nice day it was to turn 44 years of age.
posted by Neil @ 11:48 pm
5 comments
5 Comments:
Good post.
Happy Birthday , young man.
"Sangria in the Park" is like a fancier version of "Buckfast in the Park, byetheway -Isthatnorite?"
Or u goat a proalemb wi' that?
DC
ps - liked the Bond joke.
Soapy,
Glad you enjoyed the Lasagne (note the correct spelling!).
Catch you soon.
Tommy
Happy Belated birthday wishes. Not a bad day at all!
Oh, I can't interest you in a 'Save-the-orphan-lesbian-whale' charity subscription, can I?
Great post. Lovely to hear you had such a good day. Didn't you used to have a yellow Adidas T-shirt with Swedish blue stripes? These are very belated birthday greetings.
Love
Stuart
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