Evening all,
Only two days to go and then the beard will go. Some of you are aware that I have booked myself in at a traditional men's barbers on Monday to have my face fuzz removed. But I'd never really enjoyed going to a barbers until i discovered Poppa John's in Wymondham.
When i was a kid my dad used to take us (me, my brother and my sister) to a place called John Cutter in Sudbury (is every hairdresser called John?). It didn't matter if you were a boy or a girl, Mr Cutter would style your hair the same way...the Lego man crash helmet style. He even had the audacity at the end to ask if you wanted some gel on it!!! "Yes please John, I'm not sure if the bullies will be giving me enough of a kicking with this crap cut, so lets stick some cheap greasy gunk on it so it looks as though it hasn't been washed."
I felt a bit of a muppet when I found out, in my late teens, that John of John Cutter didn't actually have the surname Cutter, but that it was just a play on words. You can forgive me for believing the other three shopkeepers on Gaol Lane had their real names above their door..Barry Butcher, Henry Hardware and Peter Porn all seem like reasonable monikers to me....but John Cutter is a bit obvious isn't it?
Due to my incredibly short attention span, and low idiot threshold, I find it extremely difficult to sit still for more than 10 minutes at a time. But if you then add an overtly happy chap called John, a pair of scissors and some mundane holiday conversation into the mix, I'm ready to become a hippy and avoid any hairdressers for months on end.
I like Poppa Johns in Wymondham because they have you in and out of the chair in less than 10 minutes. If you want to talk about the weather, the economy or Norwich City, you can....but holidays doesn't come up once and if you want to keep schtum, you can. If they are shaving off a beard with a cut throat razor....you're not going to be talking.
Happy Days.
It also conveniently located in between a bookies and a pub...could life get any better? I think I'm going to enjoy Monday.
David
Thursday 26 February 2009
Wednesday 25 February 2009
Day 25 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
Today has been a great day on the sponsorship front...Thank you to everyone's favourite temping receptionist, Ingrid, for sponsoring me on the justgiving site. And thank you to Shazza from the Watton office for her fiver on the form at work. Great stuff.
I also got a fiver from someone called Isla on the justgiving site...and I'm not sure who this is. If it's the Isla I went to Cornard Upper School with, then thank you very much, and I am indeed well and happy. I hope you are too....it must have been nearly 20 years since we last had contact and I'm really not sure how you've found me now. That is spooky.
However, if it's the 'Isla' I met in a Corfu bar back in 1998, you really have to let this go. Whilst I agree that you can barely see the scar downstairs, your Adam's apple is still clearly visible and I just can't see past this (literally). It's over, move on.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, spooky occurrences. Well, if you want spooky with a capital S, then I'll tell you about the time my mum died at Mildenhall Airshow.Don't worry it has a happy ending...
I went to Mildenhall Airshow about 6 years ago with a group of mates...I hate airshows but they served beer and someone had lied about there being loads of women there. The day had gone well (despite the lack of ladies) and I was enjoying a cold beer when my name was called out over the tannoy...of all the names in a 100,000+ plus crowd...it had to be me. I was told to report to the police headquarters on site.
When I got there (via the gents toilet and having bought a packet of mints...I was walking, not driving, but you can't be too careful with the police) I was taken into a little room and told to sit down. They confirmed that I was David Cobb (not just some random bloke who wanted to be a David Cobb) and the policeman put a hand on my shoulder. He then gave me the number of Norwich Hospital and told me to give it a ring about my mother.
The nurse who answered asked me if I was David Cobb (it was a popular question that day) and then asked if my mum was Maureen Cobb. I confirmed this to be the case and she apologised that there was nothing they could do but she had died about two hours earlier.
Naturally, I was in bits, the policeman offered me some tissues and I just sobbed and sobbed. I managed to clear my throat and asked how she had died. The nurse on the phone seemed surprised and then said "Well your mother was 92 and she had been suffering a long time"...........Unless the airshow had been even more boring than i thought, and I had actually been enduring it for 30 years, my mum was way off 92 years of age.
I told the nurse my mum was in her sixties. This started a whole load more questions (not "Is your name David Cobb?") about my mum and five unbelievable minutes later we established that another Maureen Cobb with a son called David Cobb had died of a stroke earlier that day. It took another five minutes for this to sink in, and a phonecall to the Maureen Cobb that created me, before i accepted everything was ok.
The police apologised profusely and after a cup of tea I was on my way. There was a queue at reception when I left and I wondered how many of them were David Cobb's and who the poor one was that was about to get some bad news. I like to gamble, but the odds of that happening to me must have been over a million to one.
I told you it had a happy ending.
David
Today has been a great day on the sponsorship front...Thank you to everyone's favourite temping receptionist, Ingrid, for sponsoring me on the justgiving site. And thank you to Shazza from the Watton office for her fiver on the form at work. Great stuff.
I also got a fiver from someone called Isla on the justgiving site...and I'm not sure who this is. If it's the Isla I went to Cornard Upper School with, then thank you very much, and I am indeed well and happy. I hope you are too....it must have been nearly 20 years since we last had contact and I'm really not sure how you've found me now. That is spooky.
However, if it's the 'Isla' I met in a Corfu bar back in 1998, you really have to let this go. Whilst I agree that you can barely see the scar downstairs, your Adam's apple is still clearly visible and I just can't see past this (literally). It's over, move on.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, spooky occurrences. Well, if you want spooky with a capital S, then I'll tell you about the time my mum died at Mildenhall Airshow.Don't worry it has a happy ending...
I went to Mildenhall Airshow about 6 years ago with a group of mates...I hate airshows but they served beer and someone had lied about there being loads of women there. The day had gone well (despite the lack of ladies) and I was enjoying a cold beer when my name was called out over the tannoy...of all the names in a 100,000+ plus crowd...it had to be me. I was told to report to the police headquarters on site.
When I got there (via the gents toilet and having bought a packet of mints...I was walking, not driving, but you can't be too careful with the police) I was taken into a little room and told to sit down. They confirmed that I was David Cobb (not just some random bloke who wanted to be a David Cobb) and the policeman put a hand on my shoulder. He then gave me the number of Norwich Hospital and told me to give it a ring about my mother.
The nurse who answered asked me if I was David Cobb (it was a popular question that day) and then asked if my mum was Maureen Cobb. I confirmed this to be the case and she apologised that there was nothing they could do but she had died about two hours earlier.
Naturally, I was in bits, the policeman offered me some tissues and I just sobbed and sobbed. I managed to clear my throat and asked how she had died. The nurse on the phone seemed surprised and then said "Well your mother was 92 and she had been suffering a long time"...........Unless the airshow had been even more boring than i thought, and I had actually been enduring it for 30 years, my mum was way off 92 years of age.
I told the nurse my mum was in her sixties. This started a whole load more questions (not "Is your name David Cobb?") about my mum and five unbelievable minutes later we established that another Maureen Cobb with a son called David Cobb had died of a stroke earlier that day. It took another five minutes for this to sink in, and a phonecall to the Maureen Cobb that created me, before i accepted everything was ok.
The police apologised profusely and after a cup of tea I was on my way. There was a queue at reception when I left and I wondered how many of them were David Cobb's and who the poor one was that was about to get some bad news. I like to gamble, but the odds of that happening to me must have been over a million to one.
I told you it had a happy ending.
David
Tuesday 24 February 2009
Day 24 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
It's lucky I'm not one of those paranoid people. Yesterday our receptionist at work said I looked like Gerry Adams and today my (ex) friend Ann said, when referring to my blog, that she couldn't understand why she "keeps reading this crap". Oh and then I find out someone has sponsored me a measly 13 pence on my form at work...their name doesn't get a mention for such a pathetic amount.
Louise gets a mention for sponsoring me £5 and Fliss has doubled her sponsorship by taking up my tea-making challenge, see Day 19(?)....I shall be making her tea all of this Friday.
Today is pancake day but I've been healthy and had a jacket potato with spinach salad followed by yoghurt for pudding. It's all over the news that the country is becoming obese and I was told I was obese only last August. I weighed 15st 3lbs and had a waist of 40.5 inches. Since then I've been to the gym every other day and have lost over a stone and a half. My waist is now 35 inches and I weigh 13st 8lb.
Yay me, but it hasn't always been a case of blobby Cobby, I used to be uber skinny (until my mid-twenties) and the heaviest thing about me was my glasses. If i had grown a beard then I would have looked like a used cotton bud.
It took years of Carlsberg, pizza, crisps and Waitrose cakes to make me the man I am today. I've gone from the appearence of a Romanian to a super-sized American in just over a decade, but things are on the turn again and I found out last week that I am that my BMI is spot on.
I'm off to the gym tonight and I'm the only one there with a beard. Geoff Capes is the only guy I ever knew to work out and have a beard....oh and that Fatima Whitbread.
Anyway, before Ann drops off, I'm off. Enjoy your pancakes.
Happy tossing.
David
It's lucky I'm not one of those paranoid people. Yesterday our receptionist at work said I looked like Gerry Adams and today my (ex) friend Ann said, when referring to my blog, that she couldn't understand why she "keeps reading this crap". Oh and then I find out someone has sponsored me a measly 13 pence on my form at work...their name doesn't get a mention for such a pathetic amount.
Louise gets a mention for sponsoring me £5 and Fliss has doubled her sponsorship by taking up my tea-making challenge, see Day 19(?)....I shall be making her tea all of this Friday.
Today is pancake day but I've been healthy and had a jacket potato with spinach salad followed by yoghurt for pudding. It's all over the news that the country is becoming obese and I was told I was obese only last August. I weighed 15st 3lbs and had a waist of 40.5 inches. Since then I've been to the gym every other day and have lost over a stone and a half. My waist is now 35 inches and I weigh 13st 8lb.
Yay me, but it hasn't always been a case of blobby Cobby, I used to be uber skinny (until my mid-twenties) and the heaviest thing about me was my glasses. If i had grown a beard then I would have looked like a used cotton bud.
It took years of Carlsberg, pizza, crisps and Waitrose cakes to make me the man I am today. I've gone from the appearence of a Romanian to a super-sized American in just over a decade, but things are on the turn again and I found out last week that I am that my BMI is spot on.
I'm off to the gym tonight and I'm the only one there with a beard. Geoff Capes is the only guy I ever knew to work out and have a beard....oh and that Fatima Whitbread.
Anyway, before Ann drops off, I'm off. Enjoy your pancakes.
Happy tossing.
David
Monday 23 February 2009
Day 23 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
I was offered a cat at work today. This got me thinking about the animals I have loved and lost in my life.
The first pet I ever owned was a hamster, and being the deep, insightful person I am, I gave naming him some really serious thought before calling him 'Hammy'. To be fair, my imagination may have been a little off as Hammy had kept me awake for most of the night after Santa Claus had put him and his cage in my bedroom.
Hamsters are officially the most boring pet a kid ,who has to go to bed at 7pm, can get. Hamsters like to sleep from 6am to 10pm and then they like to party, hamster style. When I say party...I mean make as much irritating noise as they can, because they would sooner be out in the wild scrapping for food, than have it hand fed to them in a cage no bigger than a portable telly.
Maybe this was the reason Hammy took any opportunity to sharpen his teeth on my eight year old fingers whenever i went near his cage. All I wanted was to love him, hug him, squeeze him and make his stay in my room the best a hamster could get. Hammy repaid me by biting me every day, stinking my room out with the smell of stale hamster urine and rattling his metal cage at full volume eight nights a week.
Hammy's teeth were his downfall though. During a particularly wild night he managed to open the food bag next to his cage and an avalanche of hamster grub fell in his cage. Unfortunately, it was 4 days until i noticed this by which time Hammy had eaten his own weight (and several other hamsters) in pet food.
I found Hammy at the end of the week stuck inside one of the circular connecting tubes (that let him go from compartment to compartment) in his cage, too big to get through. My mum managed to free him with an old toothbrush and some Fairy Liquid but sadly, mammy couldn't save Hammy as he was already dead.
We buried him at the bottom of the garden with a cassette player playing 'Walking on Sunshine' by KC and the Sunshine Band. Over the following years Hammy was joined by Claudine the chicken, Joey the budgie, Bizmarck the dacshund and 24 unnamed golden medika fish (who jumped out of their tank when the lid was left off and were then sucked up our hoover by Beryl the cleaner - we left them in the hoover bag for simpicity when they were buried) .
So, I said no thanks to the cat today. I've never been a big fan of cats...they seem a little dull to me. I like animals that have character or facial expressions...like frowning or smiling.....cats just have the same expression all day (and it's not a very interesting one)....give me a dog any day.
David
I was offered a cat at work today. This got me thinking about the animals I have loved and lost in my life.
The first pet I ever owned was a hamster, and being the deep, insightful person I am, I gave naming him some really serious thought before calling him 'Hammy'. To be fair, my imagination may have been a little off as Hammy had kept me awake for most of the night after Santa Claus had put him and his cage in my bedroom.
Hamsters are officially the most boring pet a kid ,who has to go to bed at 7pm, can get. Hamsters like to sleep from 6am to 10pm and then they like to party, hamster style. When I say party...I mean make as much irritating noise as they can, because they would sooner be out in the wild scrapping for food, than have it hand fed to them in a cage no bigger than a portable telly.
Maybe this was the reason Hammy took any opportunity to sharpen his teeth on my eight year old fingers whenever i went near his cage. All I wanted was to love him, hug him, squeeze him and make his stay in my room the best a hamster could get. Hammy repaid me by biting me every day, stinking my room out with the smell of stale hamster urine and rattling his metal cage at full volume eight nights a week.
Hammy's teeth were his downfall though. During a particularly wild night he managed to open the food bag next to his cage and an avalanche of hamster grub fell in his cage. Unfortunately, it was 4 days until i noticed this by which time Hammy had eaten his own weight (and several other hamsters) in pet food.
I found Hammy at the end of the week stuck inside one of the circular connecting tubes (that let him go from compartment to compartment) in his cage, too big to get through. My mum managed to free him with an old toothbrush and some Fairy Liquid but sadly, mammy couldn't save Hammy as he was already dead.
We buried him at the bottom of the garden with a cassette player playing 'Walking on Sunshine' by KC and the Sunshine Band. Over the following years Hammy was joined by Claudine the chicken, Joey the budgie, Bizmarck the dacshund and 24 unnamed golden medika fish (who jumped out of their tank when the lid was left off and were then sucked up our hoover by Beryl the cleaner - we left them in the hoover bag for simpicity when they were buried) .
So, I said no thanks to the cat today. I've never been a big fan of cats...they seem a little dull to me. I like animals that have character or facial expressions...like frowning or smiling.....cats just have the same expression all day (and it's not a very interesting one)....give me a dog any day.
David
Sunday 22 February 2009
Day 22 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
Am writing this and watching skinny bears catch salmon on the telly...well, watching them making a really bad job of trying to catch salmon. It made me realise how lucky I was that there is pasta in my cupboard and a jar of pasta bake to mix in with it. Tonight it's tomato and herb flavour pasta bake...it has a metallic taste which is strange as it has come out of a glass jar. It tends to give me a headache as well but that's more tolerable than ordering a pizza tonight...I'm not in the mood for opening the front door.
I've had a good weekend, I hope you have too. I went back to the family home just outside Sudbury. Mum and dad Cobb treated the whole family to a meal as it was the multiple birthday weekend...see yesterdays entry.
We went to the Bulmer Fox, there's a photo that's now my profile pic on Facebook...my sister and brother-in-law aren't in the photo as they were sick...early stages of pneumonia the doc has advised today. Get well soon, Kate and Barry.
I had burger and chips. I like to eat this when I'm out, not only because I'm uncouth, but because you know what you're getting with burger and chips. I could have ordered some fancy pasta dish but then you worry whether it will be twirly pasta, or shell pasta or long stringy pasta and by the time you've thought of all the pasta problems, you're really hungry and everyones waiting for you to order. So I had burger and chips. Lovely!
You could tell it was a posh place because the burger didn't come with a bun and the chips were more than a centimetre thick....and there was no daddies sauce or ketchup....just some funny tasting salsa sauce already on my plate. Lovely though.
I also played Monopoly for the first time since I was a kid. Me and Toby (my nephew) played football and managed to avoid slipping on any of Jazz or Tilly's turds in the garden...Jazz and Tilly are my mum's dogs, not relatives of mine. I nearly won £1000 on the footy...i had a fiver on Ipswich to win 4-1 but they only won 3-1...one more goal and I would have been a grand better off. Nevermind.
Anyways, the bears are now catching the salmon and I'm about to go and catch my pasta bake...metallic taste and all.
Enjoy the last bit of your weekend.
David
Am writing this and watching skinny bears catch salmon on the telly...well, watching them making a really bad job of trying to catch salmon. It made me realise how lucky I was that there is pasta in my cupboard and a jar of pasta bake to mix in with it. Tonight it's tomato and herb flavour pasta bake...it has a metallic taste which is strange as it has come out of a glass jar. It tends to give me a headache as well but that's more tolerable than ordering a pizza tonight...I'm not in the mood for opening the front door.
I've had a good weekend, I hope you have too. I went back to the family home just outside Sudbury. Mum and dad Cobb treated the whole family to a meal as it was the multiple birthday weekend...see yesterdays entry.
We went to the Bulmer Fox, there's a photo that's now my profile pic on Facebook...my sister and brother-in-law aren't in the photo as they were sick...early stages of pneumonia the doc has advised today. Get well soon, Kate and Barry.
I had burger and chips. I like to eat this when I'm out, not only because I'm uncouth, but because you know what you're getting with burger and chips. I could have ordered some fancy pasta dish but then you worry whether it will be twirly pasta, or shell pasta or long stringy pasta and by the time you've thought of all the pasta problems, you're really hungry and everyones waiting for you to order. So I had burger and chips. Lovely!
You could tell it was a posh place because the burger didn't come with a bun and the chips were more than a centimetre thick....and there was no daddies sauce or ketchup....just some funny tasting salsa sauce already on my plate. Lovely though.
I also played Monopoly for the first time since I was a kid. Me and Toby (my nephew) played football and managed to avoid slipping on any of Jazz or Tilly's turds in the garden...Jazz and Tilly are my mum's dogs, not relatives of mine. I nearly won £1000 on the footy...i had a fiver on Ipswich to win 4-1 but they only won 3-1...one more goal and I would have been a grand better off. Nevermind.
Anyways, the bears are now catching the salmon and I'm about to go and catch my pasta bake...metallic taste and all.
Enjoy the last bit of your weekend.
David
Saturday 21 February 2009
Day 21 - Weirdy Beardy
Morning all,
When I was kid all the girls in my class wanted to be a fairy or princess when they grew up. And today, I still have female work colleagues who want to be a fairy or a princess when they grow up.
It's like a fairytale on Oak Street (or 'Nightmare on Oak Street'), I work with two princesses...Princess Loving of Blofield and Princes Vickie of Thetford (I can't believe Walt Disney overlooked Fetfud). I also work with a fairy, Fairy Flissabelle, and a Mermaid....Ms Morgan 'Born of the Sea'. Don't ask me about the Ugly Sisters...they might be reading this.
Anyway, where was this going? Well, it's my niece's ninth birthday this week and we are celebrating her birthday (and my dad's, and my sister's and my brother's girlfriends -they are all different people...it's not a Norfolk thing!) today with a meal out. And what have a I bought my niece?....a tiara? a magic wand? Nup....a hooded top and some bling....oh how times have changed.
I have bought my sister tickets to see Andy Parsons with her husband...it was his birthday recently too. My dad has a got a night at the Wentworth Hotel in Aldburgh...he says he's still deciding who to take....hopefully my mum. I have bought my brother's girlfriend a lottery ticket...but I have bought myself a ticket with exactly the same numbers...i can't imagine anything worse than buying someone else a winning ticket so I always make sure i have the same numbers. It's that worrying habit I have again...
I have ironed one of the two shirts I own and combed my beard....you have to make an effort on these occasions!
Ipswich are on Sky later...I am yet to mention this to the family...hopefully the party can take a detour to a sports bar later.
Have a good weekend y'all.
David
When I was kid all the girls in my class wanted to be a fairy or princess when they grew up. And today, I still have female work colleagues who want to be a fairy or a princess when they grow up.
It's like a fairytale on Oak Street (or 'Nightmare on Oak Street'), I work with two princesses...Princess Loving of Blofield and Princes Vickie of Thetford (I can't believe Walt Disney overlooked Fetfud). I also work with a fairy, Fairy Flissabelle, and a Mermaid....Ms Morgan 'Born of the Sea'. Don't ask me about the Ugly Sisters...they might be reading this.
Anyway, where was this going? Well, it's my niece's ninth birthday this week and we are celebrating her birthday (and my dad's, and my sister's and my brother's girlfriends -they are all different people...it's not a Norfolk thing!) today with a meal out. And what have a I bought my niece?....a tiara? a magic wand? Nup....a hooded top and some bling....oh how times have changed.
I have bought my sister tickets to see Andy Parsons with her husband...it was his birthday recently too. My dad has a got a night at the Wentworth Hotel in Aldburgh...he says he's still deciding who to take....hopefully my mum. I have bought my brother's girlfriend a lottery ticket...but I have bought myself a ticket with exactly the same numbers...i can't imagine anything worse than buying someone else a winning ticket so I always make sure i have the same numbers. It's that worrying habit I have again...
I have ironed one of the two shirts I own and combed my beard....you have to make an effort on these occasions!
Ipswich are on Sky later...I am yet to mention this to the family...hopefully the party can take a detour to a sports bar later.
Have a good weekend y'all.
David
Friday 20 February 2009
Day 20 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
Yesterday's talk about food reminded me of something that happened to me last year.
I had a ticket to see my beloved Ipswich Town play Norwich at Portman Road. I had arranged to meet my mates, Steve and Dom, at the match, but knowing what a couple tardy bastards they are I had posted them their tickets and said I would meet them inside the stadium. It was a midday kickoff and because we were playing Norwich I knew that traffic would be bad. Being a natural born worrier I had set off shortly after midnight (a slight exaggeration) to beat the crowds.
Anyway, it turns out I was right about the tardy twins as I got a call from Dom shortly after I arrived in Ipswich apologising that they were running late...I'm sure I could hear someone ordering a McDonalds breakfast in the background however that's not an issue right now. It was a sunny day but I didn't want to sit on a wall for an hour casting a lonesome shadow so I decided I'd see if I could get in the ground.
The turnstiles weren't meant to open until 10.30am but I tried my luck at just after half nine. Lo and behold the old bloke on the gate just asked for my ticket and let me in. So I wandered into the ground and went in search of a pint. All the bars were shut but I found a very large exectuive lounge giving out free coffees, teas and a large array of cakes, danish pastries, cereals, and fruit, along with some very comfortable furniture.
I stacked a paper plate with a couple of pastries, a few biscuits and banana and then helped myself to a large coffee and mused at how great it was that all this was being laid on for the early-risers amongst Town's supporters. I then rang Steve and Dom to tell them what they were missing out on and suggested they got a wiggle on before the whole lot disappeared in my direction.
I had been enjoying myself and the food for about half an hour when a man in a nice suit stood up and thanked everyone in the lounge for what had been "a fabulous career at AXA and the best leaving present a guy could ask for"...it only took a second for me to realise that the present in question was the free breakfast and football match that i was also enjoying. He gave me a funny look (probably trying to remember which department I worked in....that would be the 'thieving breakfast' department) then raised his glass before toasting his colleagues...and me.
I raised my coffee to his efforts, downed it in one and left quietly out of a side door.
Ipswich beat Norwich 2-1 that afternoon. All in all, not a bad day.
Have a good weekend everybody.
David
Yesterday's talk about food reminded me of something that happened to me last year.
I had a ticket to see my beloved Ipswich Town play Norwich at Portman Road. I had arranged to meet my mates, Steve and Dom, at the match, but knowing what a couple tardy bastards they are I had posted them their tickets and said I would meet them inside the stadium. It was a midday kickoff and because we were playing Norwich I knew that traffic would be bad. Being a natural born worrier I had set off shortly after midnight (a slight exaggeration) to beat the crowds.
Anyway, it turns out I was right about the tardy twins as I got a call from Dom shortly after I arrived in Ipswich apologising that they were running late...I'm sure I could hear someone ordering a McDonalds breakfast in the background however that's not an issue right now. It was a sunny day but I didn't want to sit on a wall for an hour casting a lonesome shadow so I decided I'd see if I could get in the ground.
The turnstiles weren't meant to open until 10.30am but I tried my luck at just after half nine. Lo and behold the old bloke on the gate just asked for my ticket and let me in. So I wandered into the ground and went in search of a pint. All the bars were shut but I found a very large exectuive lounge giving out free coffees, teas and a large array of cakes, danish pastries, cereals, and fruit, along with some very comfortable furniture.
I stacked a paper plate with a couple of pastries, a few biscuits and banana and then helped myself to a large coffee and mused at how great it was that all this was being laid on for the early-risers amongst Town's supporters. I then rang Steve and Dom to tell them what they were missing out on and suggested they got a wiggle on before the whole lot disappeared in my direction.
I had been enjoying myself and the food for about half an hour when a man in a nice suit stood up and thanked everyone in the lounge for what had been "a fabulous career at AXA and the best leaving present a guy could ask for"...it only took a second for me to realise that the present in question was the free breakfast and football match that i was also enjoying. He gave me a funny look (probably trying to remember which department I worked in....that would be the 'thieving breakfast' department) then raised his glass before toasting his colleagues...and me.
I raised my coffee to his efforts, downed it in one and left quietly out of a side door.
Ipswich beat Norwich 2-1 that afternoon. All in all, not a bad day.
Have a good weekend everybody.
David
Thursday 19 February 2009
Day 19 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
I have had a couple of complaints that I am no longer updating you with news of what I am having for my tea. So, tonight, I can tell you that I am having Chicken Tikka Masala from Tesco's, with boiled rice...the rice is Mr Sainsbury's.
When I was single I learnt a lot about 'Lonely Man' meals...you know, the ones that come in a little plastic tray with the instructions 'pierce lid several times and put in the oven for 20 minutes at 200c'...
Warning: These meals are designed to keep you single...heavily loaded in garlic and a guaranteed cure for constipation (keep mints and Imodium close at hand)....it's all part of the Lonely Meal vicious circle.
There are two types of Lonely Meal. One, where you have to pierce the lid several times and then stick it in the oven. The other, you have to remove the lid completely, and then stick it in the oven.
The latter is ingeniously designed so that when you try and remove the cellophane covering only the over-hanging edge (the bit to get you started) will come off. If you're an irritable bugger like me then this delay in preparing your 'fast food' only heightens the whole depressing crapness of your situation. You then have to spend 10 minutes with a sharp knife carefully slicing the remaining covering from your dish like a well-seasoned fisherman skinning a shark.
The other meal (that requires piercing several times) is happy to go in the oven after a quick (therapeutic) stabbing. However, the fun is yet to come. After it's twenty minutes in the oven it is ready to torment the average, hungry, lonely man.
You can peel off three quarters of the film lid....no problem...but the last corner clings on like a koala bear to a tree. You tug and you tug....irritability increasing...before it decides the moment has come to free itself and spring off, spraying your face with any sauce that was attached to it. If you wear glasses...like me...this is particularly fun as the sauce then smears really badly when you try and clean your lenses...your meal is luke warm by the time you get to eat it.
You can then consider these cherished memories when you are sat for the majority of the following day in the company toilet looking at your shoes as the Masala leaves your body faster than Lewis Hamilton out of a pitstop.
Happy Days!
No sponsors today, on the website or the sponsorship form...boo hoo....If I work with and you are reading this...I will make YOU (you can't nominate a recipient) a cup of tea....whenever you want (at work!)...if you double your sponsorship money....all next week.
I will also post an update photo tomorrow. Now for that masala.
Bon Appetite.
David
I have had a couple of complaints that I am no longer updating you with news of what I am having for my tea. So, tonight, I can tell you that I am having Chicken Tikka Masala from Tesco's, with boiled rice...the rice is Mr Sainsbury's.
When I was single I learnt a lot about 'Lonely Man' meals...you know, the ones that come in a little plastic tray with the instructions 'pierce lid several times and put in the oven for 20 minutes at 200c'...
Warning: These meals are designed to keep you single...heavily loaded in garlic and a guaranteed cure for constipation (keep mints and Imodium close at hand)....it's all part of the Lonely Meal vicious circle.
There are two types of Lonely Meal. One, where you have to pierce the lid several times and then stick it in the oven. The other, you have to remove the lid completely, and then stick it in the oven.
The latter is ingeniously designed so that when you try and remove the cellophane covering only the over-hanging edge (the bit to get you started) will come off. If you're an irritable bugger like me then this delay in preparing your 'fast food' only heightens the whole depressing crapness of your situation. You then have to spend 10 minutes with a sharp knife carefully slicing the remaining covering from your dish like a well-seasoned fisherman skinning a shark.
The other meal (that requires piercing several times) is happy to go in the oven after a quick (therapeutic) stabbing. However, the fun is yet to come. After it's twenty minutes in the oven it is ready to torment the average, hungry, lonely man.
You can peel off three quarters of the film lid....no problem...but the last corner clings on like a koala bear to a tree. You tug and you tug....irritability increasing...before it decides the moment has come to free itself and spring off, spraying your face with any sauce that was attached to it. If you wear glasses...like me...this is particularly fun as the sauce then smears really badly when you try and clean your lenses...your meal is luke warm by the time you get to eat it.
You can then consider these cherished memories when you are sat for the majority of the following day in the company toilet looking at your shoes as the Masala leaves your body faster than Lewis Hamilton out of a pitstop.
Happy Days!
No sponsors today, on the website or the sponsorship form...boo hoo....If I work with and you are reading this...I will make YOU (you can't nominate a recipient) a cup of tea....whenever you want (at work!)...if you double your sponsorship money....all next week.
I will also post an update photo tomorrow. Now for that masala.
Bon Appetite.
David
Wednesday 18 February 2009
Evening all,
Only fifteen minutes till the Ipswich match starts so I am going to type like a loon...apologies if there are any typo's.
Some of you have been making comments about the photo I have posted on Day 16...I am still awaiting a positive one. I'd just like to point out that I didn't get to choose my face, like the beard, it just kind of grew on me.
Thank you to those of you who pointed out how big my nose is, I'd never noticed myself, but now I am aware it's something I am thinking about a lot. Yes, the glasses are a necessity, they don't make contact lenses thick enough for my prescription...this is also why my are ears are so big, to support the weight of the two windscreens in front of my eyes. I disagree that the photo looks like someone from an American High School graduation that's released to the press just after he has shot 23 of his classmates. But finally, thank you to my mum who pointed out that the beard was nice, as it covered most of my face.
When I was born my mum said I was an ugly baby...10 minutes later the doc walked in and said how much i looked like my mother. They call that karma.
I have a large bump on my bottom lip that my dad gave me when I was ten. It's not as bad as it sounds...he 'accidentally' tripped me up with the garden hose one summer Sunday morning. It was just unfortunate that he tripped me up as I was walking towards our glass front door and its large stone doorstep. It wasn't all bad, it got me out of church that day and I got to eat Munch Bunch yoghurts for a week.
Happy Days!
However, I blame this bump for my failed audition to be the Milky Bar Kid in 1984. That role was meant for me...buck teeth, blonde hair and glasses...i was a dead cert for a life of leather chaps and endless milk chocolate but the bump did for me I reckon. I still have trouble going in newsagents today.
Anyway, any more smart comments about my face and I'll be posting the second hairiest part of my body on the blog tomorrow.
Come on you blues!
David
Only fifteen minutes till the Ipswich match starts so I am going to type like a loon...apologies if there are any typo's.
Some of you have been making comments about the photo I have posted on Day 16...I am still awaiting a positive one. I'd just like to point out that I didn't get to choose my face, like the beard, it just kind of grew on me.
Thank you to those of you who pointed out how big my nose is, I'd never noticed myself, but now I am aware it's something I am thinking about a lot. Yes, the glasses are a necessity, they don't make contact lenses thick enough for my prescription...this is also why my are ears are so big, to support the weight of the two windscreens in front of my eyes. I disagree that the photo looks like someone from an American High School graduation that's released to the press just after he has shot 23 of his classmates. But finally, thank you to my mum who pointed out that the beard was nice, as it covered most of my face.
When I was born my mum said I was an ugly baby...10 minutes later the doc walked in and said how much i looked like my mother. They call that karma.
I have a large bump on my bottom lip that my dad gave me when I was ten. It's not as bad as it sounds...he 'accidentally' tripped me up with the garden hose one summer Sunday morning. It was just unfortunate that he tripped me up as I was walking towards our glass front door and its large stone doorstep. It wasn't all bad, it got me out of church that day and I got to eat Munch Bunch yoghurts for a week.
Happy Days!
However, I blame this bump for my failed audition to be the Milky Bar Kid in 1984. That role was meant for me...buck teeth, blonde hair and glasses...i was a dead cert for a life of leather chaps and endless milk chocolate but the bump did for me I reckon. I still have trouble going in newsagents today.
Anyway, any more smart comments about my face and I'll be posting the second hairiest part of my body on the blog tomorrow.
Come on you blues!
David
Tuesday 17 February 2009
Day 17 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
Regular readers will remember how much I love kids (Day 3 and Tennisgate)...well today I have been dining with work chums to say goodbye to Vickie, who is off on one of those State-funded-put-your-feet-up-and-watch-telly-holidays....otherwise known as maternity leave. That fella who had a baby in America might be on to something...a whole year off just for having a baby...that's proper nice gravy!
Vickie is better known amongst her work colleagues as the Chav. She hasn't got a clown necklace or a pink Clio with one of those 'Princess Onboard' stickers...she just lives in Thetford.
Anyway, I am taking a trip down Chav Avenue this evening...Vickie recommended I try some Gaymers Pear Cider earlier today and during my weekly shop in Tesco tonight I found they had a deal on buying 3 bottles of Gaymers for £4...so it's pear cider and Miss Marple on BBC3 tonight...what's happening to me?
Tuesday is a nightmare for decent telly. That said, I forgot to report that the Colin Firth movie my girlfriend and I watched on Valentines Day was crap as well. The Accidental Husband was possibly the most pointless 90 minutes I've spent of my life...if you haven't seen it, look away now...but basically this woman (Uma Thurman) gives romance advice on a radio show...her advice causes a woman to dump her fiance (Patrick Sullivan) and Sullivan sets about getting Thurman back for her ruining his life....and guess what....they fall in love...zzzzzzzzz!
Colin Firth appears for about 10 minutes in total...and has a 'hilarious' nervous eating disorder....he eats a lot when he 's nervous....yes, I think fat bastard when I think of Colin Firth. Just before the audience die of boredom Thurman marries Sullivan and Firth has disappeared...probably to Burger King. The Accidental Film would have been a more appropriate title.
Anyway, i would just like to finish with a thank you to Ann Brown for sponsoring me...£10 is better than a knitted flower any day.
Cheers!
David
Regular readers will remember how much I love kids (Day 3 and Tennisgate)...well today I have been dining with work chums to say goodbye to Vickie, who is off on one of those State-funded-put-your-feet-up-and-watch-telly-holidays....otherwise known as maternity leave. That fella who had a baby in America might be on to something...a whole year off just for having a baby...that's proper nice gravy!
Vickie is better known amongst her work colleagues as the Chav. She hasn't got a clown necklace or a pink Clio with one of those 'Princess Onboard' stickers...she just lives in Thetford.
Anyway, I am taking a trip down Chav Avenue this evening...Vickie recommended I try some Gaymers Pear Cider earlier today and during my weekly shop in Tesco tonight I found they had a deal on buying 3 bottles of Gaymers for £4...so it's pear cider and Miss Marple on BBC3 tonight...what's happening to me?
Tuesday is a nightmare for decent telly. That said, I forgot to report that the Colin Firth movie my girlfriend and I watched on Valentines Day was crap as well. The Accidental Husband was possibly the most pointless 90 minutes I've spent of my life...if you haven't seen it, look away now...but basically this woman (Uma Thurman) gives romance advice on a radio show...her advice causes a woman to dump her fiance (Patrick Sullivan) and Sullivan sets about getting Thurman back for her ruining his life....and guess what....they fall in love...zzzzzzzzz!
Colin Firth appears for about 10 minutes in total...and has a 'hilarious' nervous eating disorder....he eats a lot when he 's nervous....yes, I think fat bastard when I think of Colin Firth. Just before the audience die of boredom Thurman marries Sullivan and Firth has disappeared...probably to Burger King. The Accidental Film would have been a more appropriate title.
Anyway, i would just like to finish with a thank you to Ann Brown for sponsoring me...£10 is better than a knitted flower any day.
Cheers!
David
Monday 16 February 2009
Day 16 - Bad David, bad, bad David....
Hi everyone,
I forgot to thank Petra for her donation....a very healthy £10 from my favourite student (I am Petra's mentor at work, she is my mentee)...take note all those who have donated five notes....hehehe...only joking, I am grateful for whatever people give.
As you were....
David
I forgot to thank Petra for her donation....a very healthy £10 from my favourite student (I am Petra's mentor at work, she is my mentee)...take note all those who have donated five notes....hehehe...only joking, I am grateful for whatever people give.
As you were....
David
Day 16 - Weirdy Beardy...I'm sponsored by a celebrity.
Today, my hero, and author, Danny King sponsored me...there is nothing left to do but grin like a nutter. For those of you who no nothing, Danny is the best author around, and if you haven't read The Burglar Diaries or The Bank Robber Diaries then you haven't lived.
You can find out about his work at...
Happy Days!
David
Sunday 15 February 2009
Day 15 - Weirdy Beardy
Afternoon everybody,
Wahey! I have broken the halfway stage of the beard growing extravaganza...I'm in the home straight...well, slightly curly beard phase.
I think this is probably the first time you could call it a beard - the hair finally being long enough to not look like stubble. There is a disappointingly large amount of grey on my chin but there's nothing I can do about that...I've had a hard life.
Well, no, that's a lie, I've just worried a lot about a lot of pointless things in my life and that's reflected in my hair and beard. Being a compulsive worrier is a pretty fruitless occupation...wondering whether a plane is going to crash into your house during Eastenders has few positives....and some would say that refusing to drink out of a red mug because it might cause the world to stop spinning is a little absurd. I've got plenty more but I don't want to start thinking about them right now.
When I was little there were only two questions I used to ask...1. "What time are we going to eat?" and 2. "Why?"....these were enough to get me safely through to my teen years.
Asking "What time are we going to eat?" gave my day structure and purpose and allowed me to build a den in a ditch or perform open-heart surgery on a dead squirrel before dinnner. "Why?" answered all the other stuff I needed to know...
Mum: You remember Mrs Barnes don't you? well, she's coming to live with us for a while
Me: Why?
Mum: Because she doesn't want to be at her home.
Me: Why?
Mum: Well, Mr Barnes has decided he is going to live with his secretary for a bit"
Me: Why?
And so it went on...
Or "Why?" could prove exhausting to those it was directed at...
Bully: Come 'ere Cobby I'm going to smash your stupid face in.
Me: Why?
Bully: Cos you've got goofy teeth and retard glasses.
Me: Why?
Bully: I dunno do I? Maybe it's genetic or sumfink. Anyways, take your glasses off.
Me: Why?
And so it went on until they lost the will to live (or kick my head in).
These days my head is filled with a million questions...most of them completely stupid...like is my mobile phone frying my brain?....can you die of drinking too much tea?....could my beard suffocate me in the middle of the night?...are people actually reading this rubbish?
Each of the little grey hairs on my head, and even the ones sat on my chin, are telling their own little story on the outside, grown from a stupid worrying question that was raised on the inside.
Now that's got me thinking...
David
Wahey! I have broken the halfway stage of the beard growing extravaganza...I'm in the home straight...well, slightly curly beard phase.
I think this is probably the first time you could call it a beard - the hair finally being long enough to not look like stubble. There is a disappointingly large amount of grey on my chin but there's nothing I can do about that...I've had a hard life.
Well, no, that's a lie, I've just worried a lot about a lot of pointless things in my life and that's reflected in my hair and beard. Being a compulsive worrier is a pretty fruitless occupation...wondering whether a plane is going to crash into your house during Eastenders has few positives....and some would say that refusing to drink out of a red mug because it might cause the world to stop spinning is a little absurd. I've got plenty more but I don't want to start thinking about them right now.
When I was little there were only two questions I used to ask...1. "What time are we going to eat?" and 2. "Why?"....these were enough to get me safely through to my teen years.
Asking "What time are we going to eat?" gave my day structure and purpose and allowed me to build a den in a ditch or perform open-heart surgery on a dead squirrel before dinnner. "Why?" answered all the other stuff I needed to know...
Mum: You remember Mrs Barnes don't you? well, she's coming to live with us for a while
Me: Why?
Mum: Because she doesn't want to be at her home.
Me: Why?
Mum: Well, Mr Barnes has decided he is going to live with his secretary for a bit"
Me: Why?
And so it went on...
Or "Why?" could prove exhausting to those it was directed at...
Bully: Come 'ere Cobby I'm going to smash your stupid face in.
Me: Why?
Bully: Cos you've got goofy teeth and retard glasses.
Me: Why?
Bully: I dunno do I? Maybe it's genetic or sumfink. Anyways, take your glasses off.
Me: Why?
And so it went on until they lost the will to live (or kick my head in).
These days my head is filled with a million questions...most of them completely stupid...like is my mobile phone frying my brain?....can you die of drinking too much tea?....could my beard suffocate me in the middle of the night?...are people actually reading this rubbish?
Each of the little grey hairs on my head, and even the ones sat on my chin, are telling their own little story on the outside, grown from a stupid worrying question that was raised on the inside.
Now that's got me thinking...
David
Saturday 14 February 2009
Day 14 - Weirdy Beardy Valentines Day Special
Happy Valentines Day folks,
What a waste of time and money Valentines Day is eh?
I don't want a cuddly bear holding a rose or an over-sized card in the shape of a heart from Clintons Cards. And I don't want to feel like I have to buy my lady some over-priced chocolates or pay for a meal in a cheesy restaurant because everyone else is.
Tonight Norwich will be clogged up with people who only go to a restaurant on the 14th February or Christmas Day (because there isn't a Turkey Tonight version of Chicken Tonight). The kind of people who think it's 'hilarious' to click their fingers and call the waiter "garcon" whilst wearing a cheap shirt from Top Man, and that'll be made of one of the three primary colours.
Nup, Mr Cobb will be dining at home tonight on a huge portion of bah humbug.
Actually, I'll be cooking the other half a meal and then we'll watch a Colin Firth romcom on dvd...it doesn't get much better than that, does it?
But it's taken me a bit of time to learn...
The first girl I ever went out with, Tania Bartlett, dumped me for not kissing her. I should have known that it wasn't going to work out on our first date - a trip to Colchester. No sooner had we got off the bus than a pigeon decided to wish me luck by crapping on my shoulder. I had to waste the popcorn allowance from my date kitty buying some tissues from Superdrug to wipe it off. Gutted.
We then went to see Phil Collins in the Great Train Robbers film Buster at the cinema (without popcorn). Halfway through the film Tania pushed her shoulder into my side as Phil's Groovy Kind of Love came over the sound system and me being a little bit inexperienced didn't realise what was going on, so I assumed she just wanted some more space so I moved further away. Cue a funny look and her looking a bit miffed...how much space does she need? I thought to myself, so I moved away further still...her face didn't improve much. About three days later I twigged what she had wanted...
Tania dumped me when I refused to kiss her in front of my mates...in those days my head would go so red there was a potential that it could explode if it was kissed...so i had to be careful. She ended our relationship on Valentines Day and whilst she never got a kiss from me, she did give me T'Pau's single China In Your Hand to soften the blow. I didn't know which was worse, being dumped or owning a T'Pau record.
But if I can give you any advice on romance...Don't push too far, your dreams are china in your hand, don't wish too hard, because they may come true...
Happy Valentines Day!
David
x
What a waste of time and money Valentines Day is eh?
I don't want a cuddly bear holding a rose or an over-sized card in the shape of a heart from Clintons Cards. And I don't want to feel like I have to buy my lady some over-priced chocolates or pay for a meal in a cheesy restaurant because everyone else is.
Tonight Norwich will be clogged up with people who only go to a restaurant on the 14th February or Christmas Day (because there isn't a Turkey Tonight version of Chicken Tonight). The kind of people who think it's 'hilarious' to click their fingers and call the waiter "garcon" whilst wearing a cheap shirt from Top Man, and that'll be made of one of the three primary colours.
Nup, Mr Cobb will be dining at home tonight on a huge portion of bah humbug.
Actually, I'll be cooking the other half a meal and then we'll watch a Colin Firth romcom on dvd...it doesn't get much better than that, does it?
But it's taken me a bit of time to learn...
The first girl I ever went out with, Tania Bartlett, dumped me for not kissing her. I should have known that it wasn't going to work out on our first date - a trip to Colchester. No sooner had we got off the bus than a pigeon decided to wish me luck by crapping on my shoulder. I had to waste the popcorn allowance from my date kitty buying some tissues from Superdrug to wipe it off. Gutted.
We then went to see Phil Collins in the Great Train Robbers film Buster at the cinema (without popcorn). Halfway through the film Tania pushed her shoulder into my side as Phil's Groovy Kind of Love came over the sound system and me being a little bit inexperienced didn't realise what was going on, so I assumed she just wanted some more space so I moved further away. Cue a funny look and her looking a bit miffed...how much space does she need? I thought to myself, so I moved away further still...her face didn't improve much. About three days later I twigged what she had wanted...
Tania dumped me when I refused to kiss her in front of my mates...in those days my head would go so red there was a potential that it could explode if it was kissed...so i had to be careful. She ended our relationship on Valentines Day and whilst she never got a kiss from me, she did give me T'Pau's single China In Your Hand to soften the blow. I didn't know which was worse, being dumped or owning a T'Pau record.
But if I can give you any advice on romance...Don't push too far, your dreams are china in your hand, don't wish too hard, because they may come true...
Happy Valentines Day!
David
x
Friday 13 February 2009
Day 13 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
Unfortunately Mr Gin and Mr Tonic were waiting for me in the lounge this evening...there will be no news until tomorrow.
Have a great weekend everybody.
best wishes
David
Unfortunately Mr Gin and Mr Tonic were waiting for me in the lounge this evening...there will be no news until tomorrow.
Have a great weekend everybody.
best wishes
David
Thursday 12 February 2009
Day 12 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
Regular readers will be aware that sponsoring me gets you a mention on the blog. So, today I'm saying a huuuuuge thank you to Rimmer (aka Rob), Lou M and the Northern monkeys Vera and Lyn.
On Tuesday I forgot to thank our receptionist at work, Carol, for her donation. For those of you who don't know her and would like a mental image, just imagine if there was a Bond film called 'Miss Moneypenny the later years' then you have a rough idea. Carol, is one of the best people I know; she's incredibly kind, funny and unassuming. She's past retirement age but she continues to work because of her love of the job...that's Carol.
The first job I ever had reduced me to tears. I was fifteen years old and chopping onions as a kitchen assistant for the Countrymen Hotel in Long Melford, Suffolk. Since then most of the other jobs have reduced me to tears for differing reasons....I've sold timeshare, worked on a campsite in France, been an estate agent (insert your own boooo! here) and I nearly managed to work a whole day in a Burger King....I was a student and they put me on fries all day so I walked out.
Regular readers will be aware that sponsoring me gets you a mention on the blog. So, today I'm saying a huuuuuge thank you to Rimmer (aka Rob), Lou M and the Northern monkeys Vera and Lyn.
On Tuesday I forgot to thank our receptionist at work, Carol, for her donation. For those of you who don't know her and would like a mental image, just imagine if there was a Bond film called 'Miss Moneypenny the later years' then you have a rough idea. Carol, is one of the best people I know; she's incredibly kind, funny and unassuming. She's past retirement age but she continues to work because of her love of the job...that's Carol.
The first job I ever had reduced me to tears. I was fifteen years old and chopping onions as a kitchen assistant for the Countrymen Hotel in Long Melford, Suffolk. Since then most of the other jobs have reduced me to tears for differing reasons....I've sold timeshare, worked on a campsite in France, been an estate agent (insert your own boooo! here) and I nearly managed to work a whole day in a Burger King....I was a student and they put me on fries all day so I walked out.
Anyway, I used to earn £20 every Sunday for five hours of food preparation and washing up at the Countryman. I also got to be the butt of all the chefs jokes...oh how we laughed about hiding a cheese grater in the soapy water and locking me inside the walk-in fridge....but I had cash in my pocket and a smile on my face at the end of my shift. Happy Days.
Best of all were the Christmas parties...an annual pub crawl around Long Melford. Being a spotty teenager with the physique of bamboo cane I was happy that it was fancy dress...disguising myself was the only way to get served.
So, the first time I ever got drunk was December 31st 1988 and I was cutting a dash around Melford as Russia's Mr Scary, Mikhail Gorbachev. Ok, not the most exciting choice, but I figured nobody would expect an awkward teenager to masquerade as the former Russian president in a sleepy Suffolk village.
There was just one minor fault with my cunning plan...the only thing anyone would serve me was vodka...all night. Correction, there was actually two minor faults with my plan...I also had to drink everything through a straw that was poking out from a hole I had cut in Gorby's lips. After 15 years of sobriety, six pubs and 12 double vodkas, I was really wasted long before the clocks struck twelve.
I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to all the New Years '88 revellers who saw Mikhail Gorbachev weaving through Melford wearing a police cone party hat and urinating over his shoes on the village green.
i've never drunk vodka since...the smell makes me want to be sick. I lost the Gorbachev mask, most of my memory and woke up in a bath on New Years Day 1989...maybe I should have gone as James Bond.
best wishes
David
Wednesday 11 February 2009
Day 11 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening all,
Someone asked me today if I often did stuff for charity and this got me scratching my head instead of my beard. Then I remembered I entered the Halstead Fun Run when i was twelve with my mate Gary Harding-Payne.
It was during an era when the revered sportsmen were long distance runners like Sebastian Coe, Steve Ovett and Steve Cram....running in those days was cool....and cool meant chicks...or so me and Gary had thought. Unfortunately, we had the appearence of a couple of pencils dressed in trainers, and the only benefit we got from learning to run was that if the women were going to continue going in the opposite direction, we at least had a good chance of catching them up.
Anyway, after a few months training the big day arrived of the Fun Run. I can't remember who I was raising money for, but I do remember that most of the village dived into hedges or drew the curtains at the sight of me crossing the fields with my sponsor form, so i think i ran the six and half miles for about £12.50.
Personally, I think that Fun Runs are just an opportunity for people who don't drink to wear fancy dress. So, Gary and I positioned ourselves at the start line amongst some young mums, with lumps in all the wrong places, purely because they were dressed as the cast of Baywatch. There were at least half a dozen Knightrider's and a poor group attempt at the Ghostbusters crew...what possesses a man who has probably never touched a Henry Hoover in his life to drag one around the streets of Essex? Oh yeah, charity.
Anyway, me and Gary were making good progress (around Halstead, not with the Baywatch mums) when he got a stitch. Ironic that the man with the physique of a needle should get a stitch. So, being a mate, I stood by the side of the road with Gary as we were overtaken by a Womble, Freddie Mercury and three nuns (one with a moustache). I waited 20 minutes for Gary to deposit the last of his Ready Brek on some old lady's front lawn before we were off and running again, but that's what you do for a friend.
When we turned into the home straight, down Halstead's High Street I turned to Gary to give him the old, thumbs up, "We've done it!" but Gary was already thirty yards ahead and determined to finish in front of me. In the last few steps he had shown me a clean pair of heels and a couple of fingers for good measure.
Well, that was the end of the skinny twins running days but I got a date with Wonderwoman (you know, the one with a brace on her teeth and National Health glasses) who was handing out Lucozade in the car park. So, in the end I was a winner as well as a loser. Oh and then there was all that money I raised.
I've forgotten why I started that story but it's got a happy ending and filled today's blog entry. Talking of happy, i added up the money I've raised so far and it currently totals £225.
Whoop Whoop!
Thanks as always to those who have donated.
best wishes
David
Someone asked me today if I often did stuff for charity and this got me scratching my head instead of my beard. Then I remembered I entered the Halstead Fun Run when i was twelve with my mate Gary Harding-Payne.
It was during an era when the revered sportsmen were long distance runners like Sebastian Coe, Steve Ovett and Steve Cram....running in those days was cool....and cool meant chicks...or so me and Gary had thought. Unfortunately, we had the appearence of a couple of pencils dressed in trainers, and the only benefit we got from learning to run was that if the women were going to continue going in the opposite direction, we at least had a good chance of catching them up.
Anyway, after a few months training the big day arrived of the Fun Run. I can't remember who I was raising money for, but I do remember that most of the village dived into hedges or drew the curtains at the sight of me crossing the fields with my sponsor form, so i think i ran the six and half miles for about £12.50.
Personally, I think that Fun Runs are just an opportunity for people who don't drink to wear fancy dress. So, Gary and I positioned ourselves at the start line amongst some young mums, with lumps in all the wrong places, purely because they were dressed as the cast of Baywatch. There were at least half a dozen Knightrider's and a poor group attempt at the Ghostbusters crew...what possesses a man who has probably never touched a Henry Hoover in his life to drag one around the streets of Essex? Oh yeah, charity.
Anyway, me and Gary were making good progress (around Halstead, not with the Baywatch mums) when he got a stitch. Ironic that the man with the physique of a needle should get a stitch. So, being a mate, I stood by the side of the road with Gary as we were overtaken by a Womble, Freddie Mercury and three nuns (one with a moustache). I waited 20 minutes for Gary to deposit the last of his Ready Brek on some old lady's front lawn before we were off and running again, but that's what you do for a friend.
When we turned into the home straight, down Halstead's High Street I turned to Gary to give him the old, thumbs up, "We've done it!" but Gary was already thirty yards ahead and determined to finish in front of me. In the last few steps he had shown me a clean pair of heels and a couple of fingers for good measure.
Well, that was the end of the skinny twins running days but I got a date with Wonderwoman (you know, the one with a brace on her teeth and National Health glasses) who was handing out Lucozade in the car park. So, in the end I was a winner as well as a loser. Oh and then there was all that money I raised.
I've forgotten why I started that story but it's got a happy ending and filled today's blog entry. Talking of happy, i added up the money I've raised so far and it currently totals £225.
Whoop Whoop!
Thanks as always to those who have donated.
best wishes
David
Tuesday 10 February 2009
Charity begins at home..(The Hollyoaks-esque late night special)
I've never really understood the phrase...charity begins at home.
Maybe it refers to the amount of people who knock on my front door during an average Saturday afternoon wanting my money or some religious dedication.
My enjoyment of listening to Ipswich Town on the radio is regularly ruined, not only by Ipswich's perfomances, but by some Tom, Dick or Hare Krishna giving the doorbell a ring, and heartily rapping on the 2m of oak that's stopping them from hearing me muttering "Bugger off".
I've often thought about wiring the toaster up to the door handle and giving my unwelcome visitors a cheery "Come in!" but its been a job enough of late clearing snow off the front path without having to scoop up a few dead Christians and the man from Oxfam.
I once made the foolish mistake of answering the door - i had taken delivery of an uninteresting package (its contents was unclear under the kitchen's strip light...damn that thick brown parcel paper!) for one of my neighbours and thought it might be them coming to retrieve it.
It turned out to be some guy with a big smile on his face. I thought he was about to launch into how God could save me and the sausages he was burning on my cooker, so I thought I'd get in first.
"Did you not read the sign on the door?" I asked.
We have one of those stickers that says "No cold callers...Only invited visitors please...You will need I.D.,...I've got £20,000 on the mantlepiece even though I'm frail and old, so please tell me your from the gas board and I'll let you in, then you can beat me over the head with my poker and steal my life savings..."....well you get the picture what it says.
"No i didn't" he replied.
"Well, it says no cold callers and we don't give money to charity callers" I informed him, thinking about my sausages, and what I could do with a really hot frying pan at that very moment.
"I didn't read it because I'm blind and I'm not after your money" he replied.
It was then that I noticed he was from the Guide Dogs for the Blind...he had a lovely yellow sash over his shoulder that I would have noticed had I not been seeing red.
Anyway, turns out he was right about a couple of things...he was blind and he didn't want my money...however, he was after an argument and proceeded to bang on at some length about how much of a miserable git I was and that giving people the time of day never hurt anybody...well, he was a couple of minutes away from being wrong about that one....then the smoke alarm started to sing about the sausages i had forgotten in the kitchen and I had my escape. I shut the door and made my way back inside through the thick smoke and smell of burning.
I never did find out what he actually wanted, other than to give me a piece of his mind, but I think that was my fault. I have since donated £20 to the Guide Dogs for the Blind after some much-needed self-reflection and guilt. Is this what they mean when they say charity begins at home?
I dunno.
Maybe it refers to the amount of people who knock on my front door during an average Saturday afternoon wanting my money or some religious dedication.
My enjoyment of listening to Ipswich Town on the radio is regularly ruined, not only by Ipswich's perfomances, but by some Tom, Dick or Hare Krishna giving the doorbell a ring, and heartily rapping on the 2m of oak that's stopping them from hearing me muttering "Bugger off".
I've often thought about wiring the toaster up to the door handle and giving my unwelcome visitors a cheery "Come in!" but its been a job enough of late clearing snow off the front path without having to scoop up a few dead Christians and the man from Oxfam.
I once made the foolish mistake of answering the door - i had taken delivery of an uninteresting package (its contents was unclear under the kitchen's strip light...damn that thick brown parcel paper!) for one of my neighbours and thought it might be them coming to retrieve it.
It turned out to be some guy with a big smile on his face. I thought he was about to launch into how God could save me and the sausages he was burning on my cooker, so I thought I'd get in first.
"Did you not read the sign on the door?" I asked.
We have one of those stickers that says "No cold callers...Only invited visitors please...You will need I.D.,...I've got £20,000 on the mantlepiece even though I'm frail and old, so please tell me your from the gas board and I'll let you in, then you can beat me over the head with my poker and steal my life savings..."....well you get the picture what it says.
"No i didn't" he replied.
"Well, it says no cold callers and we don't give money to charity callers" I informed him, thinking about my sausages, and what I could do with a really hot frying pan at that very moment.
"I didn't read it because I'm blind and I'm not after your money" he replied.
It was then that I noticed he was from the Guide Dogs for the Blind...he had a lovely yellow sash over his shoulder that I would have noticed had I not been seeing red.
Anyway, turns out he was right about a couple of things...he was blind and he didn't want my money...however, he was after an argument and proceeded to bang on at some length about how much of a miserable git I was and that giving people the time of day never hurt anybody...well, he was a couple of minutes away from being wrong about that one....then the smoke alarm started to sing about the sausages i had forgotten in the kitchen and I had my escape. I shut the door and made my way back inside through the thick smoke and smell of burning.
I never did find out what he actually wanted, other than to give me a piece of his mind, but I think that was my fault. I have since donated £20 to the Guide Dogs for the Blind after some much-needed self-reflection and guilt. Is this what they mean when they say charity begins at home?
I dunno.
Day 10 - Weirdy Beardy
Hey,
Apologies but just a really quick blog tonight. My old, old man, turned 70 today and I shall be celebrating his birthday tonight....we have to leave a three hour window to give him the bumps...bless him.
Ok, more people have been sponsoring...thank you to Andy and Mandy the Taczynski kids, Maggie my boss, Steph, Linda (who was very rude about my beard but you just smile when someone is giving you cash), and finally, but no means least, thanks to the Muvva of all Chavs, Vickie....there's only one F in Thetford. If I've missed anyone you will get a mention tomorrow.
I'm going to try and get back on here later but time, like the people who haven't sponsored me yet, is tight.
best wishes
David
Apologies but just a really quick blog tonight. My old, old man, turned 70 today and I shall be celebrating his birthday tonight....we have to leave a three hour window to give him the bumps...bless him.
Ok, more people have been sponsoring...thank you to Andy and Mandy the Taczynski kids, Maggie my boss, Steph, Linda (who was very rude about my beard but you just smile when someone is giving you cash), and finally, but no means least, thanks to the Muvva of all Chavs, Vickie....there's only one F in Thetford. If I've missed anyone you will get a mention tomorrow.
I'm going to try and get back on here later but time, like the people who haven't sponsored me yet, is tight.
best wishes
David
Monday 9 February 2009
Friday 6 February 2009
Day 6 - Weirdy Beardy
Morning all,
I would like to start by saying "Thank You" to a few people.
Cressy, Nittai, Anne McC and Laura S have made donations on my justgiving page....thank you very, very much...
http://www.justgiving.com/weirdybeardyman
There is also a form at Julian Housing reception...i have got friends, honest!
I also got a cheque for £10 in the post from my old (young) friend Amanda. I like the business card Amanda...so much nicer than the ones you used to make me put in phone boxes around Colchester.
I would also like to thank Trevor and Suzie from the Hethersett Fish & Chip van for a lovely piece of cod and accompanying chips last night. It's things like that keep me charged up for the challenge of growing a beard.
The beard (heavy stubble) is really, really itchy today. I go through phases of liking it and then strongly disliking it. I am appreciating the extra 15 minutes not shaving leaves me in bed but the waking hours are sometimes an itchy hell
By hey, it's for charity, and what's an itchy face compared to prostate cancer?
On that note I would also like to give another mention to Princess Loving...she was so pleased at her mention yesterday she gets another shout out today...for a moment I felt like Lenny Henry...charity, it's all about putting smiles on faces.
I think I am close to topping £200 in donations....keep them coming though.
more later.
David
I would like to start by saying "Thank You" to a few people.
Cressy, Nittai, Anne McC and Laura S have made donations on my justgiving page....thank you very, very much...
http://www.justgiving.com/weirdybeardyman
There is also a form at Julian Housing reception...i have got friends, honest!
I also got a cheque for £10 in the post from my old (young) friend Amanda. I like the business card Amanda...so much nicer than the ones you used to make me put in phone boxes around Colchester.
I would also like to thank Trevor and Suzie from the Hethersett Fish & Chip van for a lovely piece of cod and accompanying chips last night. It's things like that keep me charged up for the challenge of growing a beard.
The beard (heavy stubble) is really, really itchy today. I go through phases of liking it and then strongly disliking it. I am appreciating the extra 15 minutes not shaving leaves me in bed but the waking hours are sometimes an itchy hell
By hey, it's for charity, and what's an itchy face compared to prostate cancer?
On that note I would also like to give another mention to Princess Loving...she was so pleased at her mention yesterday she gets another shout out today...for a moment I felt like Lenny Henry...charity, it's all about putting smiles on faces.
I think I am close to topping £200 in donations....keep them coming though.
more later.
David
Thursday 5 February 2009
Day 5 - Weirdy Beardy
Hello again beardsters,
You may have noticed on Day 4 that i have set up a justgiving web page where you can now sponsor me online...search for weirdybeardyman and you'll find me...so even those of you in foreign parts can now give a little.
I was disappointed that the web page weirdybeardy (i am weirdybeardyman) had already been taken on justgiving.com, especially when considering The Big C charity is based in the Norfolk area and not a national organisation. So, I did some investigating (of the web page i should of had) and found that this site belongs to a Mrs Brenda Gundall of Diss...and her beard is already twice the length of mine. She must of had a head start.
I had an enjoyable evening down the Golden Star last night....big up to Fairy Flissabelle, Princess Loving, Sarah, Dirty Jean and Kevin the Norwich fan. It was Performers night and there was a mix of bands and comedians. I'd like to make a special mention to Andy the comedian, whose set i enjoyed for all the wrong reasons...i've not heard the "my mother stood on the scales and the machine said one at a time" since 1984...it brought back some fond memories.
I also thoroughly enjoyed the Whispering Blue Rasperries and their 'alternative pornographic blues'..."Come on baby, lets have some fun, let me stick that sausage into your bun" is a lyric I am considering having tattoed on my forearm.
And I didn't get the name of the band (two blokes after the Rasperries) that covered Brittany Spears 'Toxic' with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica, but that was great. I missed the last three acts but it was a fun evening and a good crowd occupying the Star. It certainly beat ITV missing the only goal after two hours of Merseyside misery.
If you're passing the Golden Star, Norwich on the first Wednesday of the month stick your head in, the Performers night is a fantastic night out. If you are passing the Golden Star on a Friday at any point in the month, come in and buy me a pint.
I think i've written enough. Tonight I shall be dining from the fish and chip van in Hethersett and watching Hustle with a couple of bottles of cider...when in Norfolk....
take care
David
You may have noticed on Day 4 that i have set up a justgiving web page where you can now sponsor me online...search for weirdybeardyman and you'll find me...so even those of you in foreign parts can now give a little.
I was disappointed that the web page weirdybeardy (i am weirdybeardyman) had already been taken on justgiving.com, especially when considering The Big C charity is based in the Norfolk area and not a national organisation. So, I did some investigating (of the web page i should of had) and found that this site belongs to a Mrs Brenda Gundall of Diss...and her beard is already twice the length of mine. She must of had a head start.
I had an enjoyable evening down the Golden Star last night....big up to Fairy Flissabelle, Princess Loving, Sarah, Dirty Jean and Kevin the Norwich fan. It was Performers night and there was a mix of bands and comedians. I'd like to make a special mention to Andy the comedian, whose set i enjoyed for all the wrong reasons...i've not heard the "my mother stood on the scales and the machine said one at a time" since 1984...it brought back some fond memories.
I also thoroughly enjoyed the Whispering Blue Rasperries and their 'alternative pornographic blues'..."Come on baby, lets have some fun, let me stick that sausage into your bun" is a lyric I am considering having tattoed on my forearm.
And I didn't get the name of the band (two blokes after the Rasperries) that covered Brittany Spears 'Toxic' with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica, but that was great. I missed the last three acts but it was a fun evening and a good crowd occupying the Star. It certainly beat ITV missing the only goal after two hours of Merseyside misery.
If you're passing the Golden Star, Norwich on the first Wednesday of the month stick your head in, the Performers night is a fantastic night out. If you are passing the Golden Star on a Friday at any point in the month, come in and buy me a pint.
I think i've written enough. Tonight I shall be dining from the fish and chip van in Hethersett and watching Hustle with a couple of bottles of cider...when in Norfolk....
take care
David
Wednesday 4 February 2009
Day 4 - Weirdy Beardy
Evening beard fans,
My friend Sarah has asked me to give some details as to what happened during Tennisgate that I mentioned in yesterday's entry (see Day 3 - Weirdy Beardy).
Well, Madame Football Head, who I discussed yesterday, is under the impression that her little 'Steven' (I've changed his name) is the next Tim Henman and that the best way for him to show the world his talent is to knock his tennis balls up and down our cul-de-sac with his goofy friends.
However, little Stevie has about as much hand to eye coordination as Stevie Wonder after a night in the Kings Head - the little fella can hit a ball anyway but straight and nine times out of ten would manage to hit the bodywork of my Citroen Berlingo. The only things Stevie has in common with Boris Becker is his ginger mop and the ability to ruin an otherwise enjoyable Sunday afternoon.
Anyway, during a particularly bad day on 'Court Cul-de-Sac' our budding tennis starlet managed to destroy our front flowerbed and perfect his Berlingo swing. So, I decided to meet his maker and approached his spherically challenged mother about his behaviour.
Things all got a bit nasty as the other mums and dads came out in force. My girlfriend and I were questioned as to why we haven't got kids...in a tone that suggested we were this century's Fred and Rosemary West and in return we gave footy face a few tips on parenting.
As an Australian once sung....everybody needs good neighbours.
We've not spoken to our neighbours since and we like it that way. Stevie has not made it to Wimbledon yet...and will probably never hit a ball on Centre Court unless I park my Berlingo on it.
Happy Days.
Ahem!
The total of sponsorship is now close to £200 (get in!). The Ocean pie is back with Davy Jones and tonight I am treating myself to sweet and sour chicken with rice. Later I am off to see The Clints play live with some chums in Norwich as I take my beard out on a social.
oh and you can now sponsor me at....
http://www.justgiving.com/weirdybeardyman
see you tomorrow
David
My friend Sarah has asked me to give some details as to what happened during Tennisgate that I mentioned in yesterday's entry (see Day 3 - Weirdy Beardy).
Well, Madame Football Head, who I discussed yesterday, is under the impression that her little 'Steven' (I've changed his name) is the next Tim Henman and that the best way for him to show the world his talent is to knock his tennis balls up and down our cul-de-sac with his goofy friends.
However, little Stevie has about as much hand to eye coordination as Stevie Wonder after a night in the Kings Head - the little fella can hit a ball anyway but straight and nine times out of ten would manage to hit the bodywork of my Citroen Berlingo. The only things Stevie has in common with Boris Becker is his ginger mop and the ability to ruin an otherwise enjoyable Sunday afternoon.
Anyway, during a particularly bad day on 'Court Cul-de-Sac' our budding tennis starlet managed to destroy our front flowerbed and perfect his Berlingo swing. So, I decided to meet his maker and approached his spherically challenged mother about his behaviour.
Things all got a bit nasty as the other mums and dads came out in force. My girlfriend and I were questioned as to why we haven't got kids...in a tone that suggested we were this century's Fred and Rosemary West and in return we gave footy face a few tips on parenting.
As an Australian once sung....everybody needs good neighbours.
We've not spoken to our neighbours since and we like it that way. Stevie has not made it to Wimbledon yet...and will probably never hit a ball on Centre Court unless I park my Berlingo on it.
Happy Days.
Ahem!
The total of sponsorship is now close to £200 (get in!). The Ocean pie is back with Davy Jones and tonight I am treating myself to sweet and sour chicken with rice. Later I am off to see The Clints play live with some chums in Norwich as I take my beard out on a social.
oh and you can now sponsor me at....
http://www.justgiving.com/weirdybeardyman
see you tomorrow
David
Tuesday 3 February 2009
Day 3 - Weirdy Beardy
I've had a couple of people emailing asking for photos of the beard so far....sadly, I'm about as technical as a fish so I had a think about it and I reckon it's pretty similar to the one Jean Reno from the film Leon wore...minus his Harry Potter glasses...
http://www.imdb.com/media/rm4182678272/nm0000606
This got me to thinking about what a great film Leon was and then to who I would like to assassinate...don't worry, if you're reading this you weren't on the list...If, and I mean if, I was given the opportunity to murder some of the people I strongly dislike then i wouldn't have to go far...my neighbours are only just outside my front door.
Some you know the ongoing love I have for the fellow residents of my cul-de-sac following the infamous Tennisgate incident in the summer of 2008 and are aware just how much I would love them to join the worms under our patio. I have gained a little pleasure since July 2008 by giving them all nicknames...the crazy haired woman next door is now known as 'Big Wig', and the fat lady with the spherical noggin formerly known as Lesley is now better known as 'Football Head' and so it goes on.
As I munched on my Tesco Ocean Pie (the sea really is the world's toilet) and peas this evening I laughed at my funny named neighbours but then my unrelenting paranoia kicked in as I realised I am probably no longer "That tosser at number 4" but now "That bearded tosser at number 4"..Damn! I've given them a stick to beat me with...the beardist bastards.
Hah well there are other reasons to be cheerful...I did a quick calculation and the total raised so far for The Big C prostate cancer appeal is currently £140....thank you again to all those who have contributed. I am tempted to display the names of those who haven't on Facebook but that would be mean....maybe in time....tick tock tick tock!
I'm off to the gym now and will find out exactly how much this furry face itches...and maybe I'll check out some sniper spots on the roof later.....Ocean pie and bottom permitting.
David
http://www.imdb.com/media/rm4182678272/nm0000606
This got me to thinking about what a great film Leon was and then to who I would like to assassinate...don't worry, if you're reading this you weren't on the list...If, and I mean if, I was given the opportunity to murder some of the people I strongly dislike then i wouldn't have to go far...my neighbours are only just outside my front door.
Some you know the ongoing love I have for the fellow residents of my cul-de-sac following the infamous Tennisgate incident in the summer of 2008 and are aware just how much I would love them to join the worms under our patio. I have gained a little pleasure since July 2008 by giving them all nicknames...the crazy haired woman next door is now known as 'Big Wig', and the fat lady with the spherical noggin formerly known as Lesley is now better known as 'Football Head' and so it goes on.
As I munched on my Tesco Ocean Pie (the sea really is the world's toilet) and peas this evening I laughed at my funny named neighbours but then my unrelenting paranoia kicked in as I realised I am probably no longer "That tosser at number 4" but now "That bearded tosser at number 4"..Damn! I've given them a stick to beat me with...the beardist bastards.
Hah well there are other reasons to be cheerful...I did a quick calculation and the total raised so far for The Big C prostate cancer appeal is currently £140....thank you again to all those who have contributed. I am tempted to display the names of those who haven't on Facebook but that would be mean....maybe in time....tick tock tick tock!
I'm off to the gym now and will find out exactly how much this furry face itches...and maybe I'll check out some sniper spots on the roof later.....Ocean pie and bottom permitting.
David
Day 2 - Weirdy Beardy
A quiet day on the beard growing front...what with all that snow bringing everything but the hairs on my face to a standstill.
I have, however, noticed there are a scarily large number of grey hairs appearing from the chin area of my beard. Nothing ginger as yet.
I would like to take this opportunity to withdraw my comment that beards are for losers...having been sponsored by a couple of fellow bearders I have seen that they are a lovely group....so thank you beard brothers.
I'm realising that having a beard makes you part of a group, a collection of people with the same dream and I am now beginning to get the urge to wear a thick woolly jumper and sit on a barstool playing the guitar.
Strange.
I have, however, noticed there are a scarily large number of grey hairs appearing from the chin area of my beard. Nothing ginger as yet.
I would like to take this opportunity to withdraw my comment that beards are for losers...having been sponsored by a couple of fellow bearders I have seen that they are a lovely group....so thank you beard brothers.
I'm realising that having a beard makes you part of a group, a collection of people with the same dream and I am now beginning to get the urge to wear a thick woolly jumper and sit on a barstool playing the guitar.
Strange.
Sunday 1 February 2009
Day 1 - Weirdy Beardy
Like most of the more challenging decisions in my life, my choice of growing a beard was fuelled by alcohol. I had been searching the EDP (a local paper) website trying to find out what had happened at the Queens Head pub in Hethersett - there had been four police cars and an ambulance turn up for Sunday lunch. During my search I found the article for The Big C fundraiser and before you could say "beards are for losers" I had emailed for an application pack and downed a whole bottle of cabernet sauvignon....these things happen in Hethersett.
The application pack arrived the following day with a booklet showing just how much they need financial support, plus a sponsorship form and a poster of different styles of beards that made me feel a little uneasy. Beards really are for losers.
I started contacting family and friends for sponsorship. One of my friends, Amanda, emailed me wishing me luck but added that with glasses and a forthcoming beard, I had better be well-endowed or ready to be single again. I immediately tried to think of good looking guys with beards...this is like trying to think of people you would invite to a party called Osama.
On the whole, i think beards are worn by people who need a good smack in their furry chops...Noel Edmonds, Brian Blessed, George Michael and Rolf Harris to name but a few. Then again, some of my favourite people have had beards...Santa Claus, Kenny Everitt, The Twits and ZZ Top. Maybe, it's the man, not the beard. I shall have to wear it well.
I have started to collect sponsors and I think the total is about £65 at the moment...thank you to all those who have contributed so far.
Today is the first day of not shaving...I never normally shave on a Sunday so this is nothing new to me, but tomorrow is another day and a little more growth. I've never gone more than 3 days without shaving and the idea of having a beard really scares me. Cancer scares me even more so it's going to be 28 days of face fuzz for me and amusement for those around me.
There will be pictures posted on here in due course, so the amusement won't be limited to Norwich.
Thanks again for your support to date.
David
The application pack arrived the following day with a booklet showing just how much they need financial support, plus a sponsorship form and a poster of different styles of beards that made me feel a little uneasy. Beards really are for losers.
I started contacting family and friends for sponsorship. One of my friends, Amanda, emailed me wishing me luck but added that with glasses and a forthcoming beard, I had better be well-endowed or ready to be single again. I immediately tried to think of good looking guys with beards...this is like trying to think of people you would invite to a party called Osama.
On the whole, i think beards are worn by people who need a good smack in their furry chops...Noel Edmonds, Brian Blessed, George Michael and Rolf Harris to name but a few. Then again, some of my favourite people have had beards...Santa Claus, Kenny Everitt, The Twits and ZZ Top. Maybe, it's the man, not the beard. I shall have to wear it well.
I have started to collect sponsors and I think the total is about £65 at the moment...thank you to all those who have contributed so far.
Today is the first day of not shaving...I never normally shave on a Sunday so this is nothing new to me, but tomorrow is another day and a little more growth. I've never gone more than 3 days without shaving and the idea of having a beard really scares me. Cancer scares me even more so it's going to be 28 days of face fuzz for me and amusement for those around me.
There will be pictures posted on here in due course, so the amusement won't be limited to Norwich.
Thanks again for your support to date.
David
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