Evening Princess Gemma,
I've stopped growing a beard now.
David
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
Weirdy Beardy - the big Hollywood-style "THANK YOU!"
Evening all,
I'd like to start by thanking my mum and dad for making me...and that's as far as I'll dwell on that one....but also for being the first to sponsor me on my hairy mission.
I'd like to thank my girlfriend, Helen, for putting up with my prickly face for a month and for her words of encouragement...."You have to complete this...you've never finished anything before".
Thanks to my brother and sister for both their donations...Kate, your Christmas present will be slightly larger than Simon's this year.
Absent friends...Maz, Dom, Steve, Andy and Mandy, Cressida, Nittai, Amanda, Laura, Ingrid and Isla (still not entirely sure who this person is...but thank you)....you are friends indeed.
The legend and my mate, Danny King, who can be found here....
http://www.dannykingbooks.com/
The Julian Housing massive...Dee, Caroline, Paul, The Chav, Kevin, Jess, Rita, Carol, Princess Gemma, Maggie, Steph, Linda, Lou, Vera, Lyn, Petra, Rimmer, the one who doesn't get mentioned for donating 13p, Louise, Sharon, Liz, Ann B and Anne McC. The tea's are on me!
A big thank you to Fairy Flissabelle for all her help setting things up and for bullying visitors to reception to sponsor me.
And thank you if you are logging on to find the justgiving site to make a late donation, which can be found here...it's open for another five months....
http://www.justgiving.com/weirdybeardyman
THANK YOU ALL.
David
I'd like to start by thanking my mum and dad for making me...and that's as far as I'll dwell on that one....but also for being the first to sponsor me on my hairy mission.
I'd like to thank my girlfriend, Helen, for putting up with my prickly face for a month and for her words of encouragement...."You have to complete this...you've never finished anything before".
Thanks to my brother and sister for both their donations...Kate, your Christmas present will be slightly larger than Simon's this year.
Absent friends...Maz, Dom, Steve, Andy and Mandy, Cressida, Nittai, Amanda, Laura, Ingrid and Isla (still not entirely sure who this person is...but thank you)....you are friends indeed.
The legend and my mate, Danny King, who can be found here....
http://www.dannykingbooks.com/
The Julian Housing massive...Dee, Caroline, Paul, The Chav, Kevin, Jess, Rita, Carol, Princess Gemma, Maggie, Steph, Linda, Lou, Vera, Lyn, Petra, Rimmer, the one who doesn't get mentioned for donating 13p, Louise, Sharon, Liz, Ann B and Anne McC. The tea's are on me!
A big thank you to Fairy Flissabelle for all her help setting things up and for bullying visitors to reception to sponsor me.
And thank you if you are logging on to find the justgiving site to make a late donation, which can be found here...it's open for another five months....
http://www.justgiving.com/weirdybeardyman
THANK YOU ALL.
David
Monday, 2 March 2009
Weirdy Beardy - Days 27, 28 and 29
Evening all,
I only had my beard 28 days but it was a fantastic month. I actually decided to shave it off last night and save myself the expense of going to the barbers....23 disposable razors later it was finally off my face.
My mate Dom and I went to see our friends Al and Anna up in Congleton at the weekend. It was a chance to toast their new home, their forthcoming marriage and anything else that meant we got to lift a pint of beer or glass of wine to our lips.
I could feel my beard tingling the closer it got to the Lake District but it was a weekend of footy, rugby and pubs that we had planned. We watched Ipswich lose a very entertaining game 3-2 to Preston North End and then watched England lose a dismal rugby match to Ireland.
Deflated but not defeated we headed out to the pubs of Congleton. Short skirts and big heels seemed to be the fashion on the lively streets...but I stuck to jeans and a thick jumper. I remember drinking a Czech beer but can't remember it's name....or was it that I couldn't remember my name after drinking Czech beer? Anyway, it was a cracking night that went on into the early hours of the following morning.
On the way back to Norwich I stroked my beard and sucked my moustache for the very last times whilst thinking about the previous 28 days. At the beginning of February I thought that beards were for losers, but having raised over £300 for The Big C charity I've realised they can be for winners as well. It's not so much about the beard on the outside but the man on the inside.
However, the bit I have enjoyed the most has been the support, comments and financial donations you have all contributed. For that, I am really, truly grateful. I had hoped to raise £100 and that figure has been trebled. I didn't have to do much...just avoid razors...the rest was down to you. So, a very big "THANK YOU" to one and all.
I am going to do a final installment tomorrow...where you will get a final total and Hollywood-style 'thank you' individually...
Oh and I dined on Oxtail Soup and rolls for tea tonight. You can't beat a bit of Bully!
David
I only had my beard 28 days but it was a fantastic month. I actually decided to shave it off last night and save myself the expense of going to the barbers....23 disposable razors later it was finally off my face.
My mate Dom and I went to see our friends Al and Anna up in Congleton at the weekend. It was a chance to toast their new home, their forthcoming marriage and anything else that meant we got to lift a pint of beer or glass of wine to our lips.
I could feel my beard tingling the closer it got to the Lake District but it was a weekend of footy, rugby and pubs that we had planned. We watched Ipswich lose a very entertaining game 3-2 to Preston North End and then watched England lose a dismal rugby match to Ireland.
Deflated but not defeated we headed out to the pubs of Congleton. Short skirts and big heels seemed to be the fashion on the lively streets...but I stuck to jeans and a thick jumper. I remember drinking a Czech beer but can't remember it's name....or was it that I couldn't remember my name after drinking Czech beer? Anyway, it was a cracking night that went on into the early hours of the following morning.
On the way back to Norwich I stroked my beard and sucked my moustache for the very last times whilst thinking about the previous 28 days. At the beginning of February I thought that beards were for losers, but having raised over £300 for The Big C charity I've realised they can be for winners as well. It's not so much about the beard on the outside but the man on the inside.
However, the bit I have enjoyed the most has been the support, comments and financial donations you have all contributed. For that, I am really, truly grateful. I had hoped to raise £100 and that figure has been trebled. I didn't have to do much...just avoid razors...the rest was down to you. So, a very big "THANK YOU" to one and all.
I am going to do a final installment tomorrow...where you will get a final total and Hollywood-style 'thank you' individually...
Oh and I dined on Oxtail Soup and rolls for tea tonight. You can't beat a bit of Bully!
David
Thursday, 26 February 2009
Day 26 - Weirdy Beardy
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
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
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
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