I had a rather fun packed weekend. Well as fun packed as you can have in Great Yarmouth. And of course by fun packed I mean spent in the pub.
On the way down we tried to find our little Brigadoonesque village off the A47 where we stopped off for a pint a few years ago but haven’t been able to find since. We take a random left at some stage along the road and hope we just stumble in to it. This year though with the help of Google Earth and sat-nav we thought we’d sussed where it was we needed to head, but then decided knowing where we were going would ruin all our fun so ignored it and opted to take the eighth left instead and found a nice little pub in the village of Hairy Fadgestick where we got heckled for being crap at pool.
We did do some stuff while we were there, mainly so when people asked us what we did all weekend we had more to offer than ‘pub’. We went bowling, wandered round Trevor Two-Swords Wax Museum*, and played many games of Buzz, all of which I lost because it’s a stupid game and everyone thinks it’s funny to steal your points. And also being able to identify depixelating (Oh, fuck off it’s a word) fruit is not a sign of intelligence if you ask me.
*Might not have actually been called that.
Yarmouth has Pirate Crazy Golf (Capitals - Hell Yeah!)
Sunday was about perfect – sat outside a pub by the river, talking bollcoks/bickering with your pals, followed up by an unusually creamy but rather gorgeous saag panear at the Indian. This is the standard dish I like to have at new restaurants as a sort of comparator. I know someone who does the same with nargis and has a website showing all the nargi (nargises?) he’s had at various restaurants. Nargis is like a spicy scotch egg, should you care.
The best bit of the weekend though had to be the late equaliser by Ipswich against Leeds relegating (barring a highly unlikely result or 2) the sods to League One football! I know coming from Sheffield it’s sort of obligatory to dislike Leeds, but having been there I think the place itself is reason enough. If it could just be wangled now for Sheff United to stay up and Fulham to go down that would be just dandy.
It was the old birthday on Friday, which I tried to ignore, as is my way. I got a birthday cake (and candle) and some silly shit from the boys though which made it about bearable. That and much ale.
I think there might be a fox nest in my back garden. How’s that for a change of subject? I was digging over my (soon to be) vegetable patch and found a big hole in the bank at the back. I gave it a good prodding but didn’t feel anything squishy, but it goes down about 6 foot. Being a clever chappy and assuming foxes have a fondness for eggs I put one near the hole on Monday night and it had gone Tuesday morning. Last night I came over all Hetty Wainthropp and sprinkled a load of flour round the hole, hoping to see either footprints or a Yorkshire pudding this morning. There were footprints in and out of the hole. How exciting.
Chris reckons Foxes kill cats and Lilypie is only ickle but to be honest I’m more bothered about it crapping on my onions. I can’t say as I’ve ever heard of a cat being attacked by a fox. Although a quick search of the internet has shown that it’s not unprecedented as this picture proves:
You can’t see it very well there but my little toe is now the exact same colour (and it makes a funny clicking noise it didn’t make before) as my big toe(nail) i.e. black. 3 to go then I win a speedboat.
Aren’t feet disgusting? Specifically my feet, I know, but most body parts I can sort of be attracted to in some way, but feet – yuck!