On Saturday I had a nice day out in Nottingham. Well, it was nice until just before I left the house in the morning, when I started feeling a pain in my side which persisted most of the way there, eased off for a bit whenever I went to the toilet but would always eventually return, but which thankfully waited until I'd returned home (three minutes after I'd returned home, in fact) to erupt in a big wave of hurty-stomach.
But some of the bits in between were good, especially the bit where I walked the wrong way around a staircase and found myself walking into a wall, and the bit where I came across the bar mentioned in dispatches by various away supporters that I decided not to go in even though I had an hour to kill before the train home because, well, that sort of thing really isn't me.
On the train up, sat next to a girl watching some sort of hospital drama on her Macbook, and with a chap watching an episode of Entourage on his Macbook, and wondering whether I should have brought mine along with me, I decided that this would be a good moment to send an amusing message to the masses (all 14 of them). However, it transpired that in my most recent mobile phone purge I'd managed to delete the number. Later I decided that actually when I felt the urge to send a message I'd just save it and post them in one amusing lump in the evening, except in the evening I had the hurty-stomach and wasn't in the mood for farting about on a computer. So instead, because posting two-and-a-half day old messages to Twitter would be crap even for me, here are my thoughts from my nice day out in Nottingham, cheerfully compressed into 140 character soundbites. This is officially the worst blog entry anyone has ever done ever:
East midlands parkway is possibly the least inspiring spot to put a station imaginable. You couldn't set a brief encounter remake here
Getting a paper cut on a non work day seems outright unfair.
The pitch for this half time under 12 girls game is farcically small
Sat on nottingham station. I can almost see the appeal of trainspotting.
Main advantage of sitting in first class: the dinky curtains for keeping the sun's glare out. (*)
The train manager is astoundingly foxy, even in east midlands trains uniform. Dealt with some choi-oiking daggers well too.
I'd love to go to a game at friar lane & epworth fc.
On the tube home. The couple stood opposite look like something out of phonogram, right down to her human league badge and his half-polished dms (**)
(*) Look, the first class tickets were the same price as the standard tickets, all right? I know, next thing you know I'll be saying that the Daily Mail is right about taxes for rich people and that. I'm sorry.
(**) This one is 144 characters. I was going to do some editing later but, well, sod it.
Monday, 27 April 2009
The pitch for this half time under 12 girls game is farcically small
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2 comments:
I pass Friar Lane & Epworth's ground sometimes, most notably on the way to the Walkers. Never been inside, but it's a tiny reclaimed area next to a public park, opposite some excellent wasteland. They used to be called Friar Lane Old Boys.
Friar Lane & Epworth press so many buttons for me - tiny grounds next to railways lines are always good (particularly when there's a handy sign which tells you who they are), plus I quite like the beautiful futility of having tiny clubs situated near big clubs, and it's an intriguing name as well. The detail about the wasteland only makes it even more appealing.
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