The weekend was shaping up to be a bad case of déjà vu. Or I should say more like a nightmare experience all around, but it ended up being just really tame. It was a holiday weekend here, so that meant it was extra long.
Thursday, also known as (American) Thanksgiving, was a bit a strange to begin with. Usually there is a fair number of family around but this year that seemed to be lacking. I spent most of the day pretending to know what I was talking about when it came to American Football. My mother joked with me and reminded me that I never was a big fan of the sport anyways.
I decided to ditch the family festivity and headed to the pub for a couple of drinks. SlainteLOSC had sent out a message earlier about being down there for the evening, so I decided to drop by and say hi. For as dead as the point looked, there were plenty of punters milling around the pub that evening. No one special, just completely random.
Friday I had a show so kept a low profile most of the day. I made a decision to buy a new bass, but I haven't felt like whipping out the card and actually paying for it. For those who care, 5 string - fretless.
Station had a mediocre show. We got our new singer up to speed, sort of burn or blaze. Our previous singer had caught the baby disease and his (wife) had him on lockdown. For a while, we had two singers which was an interesting dynamic.
There's another show coming up this Saturday, which is ScouseDrummer's birthday show. That should be pretty good, and the new singer should be fitting in much better now that the first jitters are out.
Mentioning Saturdays, this past one was a scare and a half for the boys in red and white. I don't really like this whole going 2-nil into the second half and letting the opposition take over the game. IF Villa had been a better squad then we'd be in some trouble.
I stayed around the pub for a bit, as Sheffield's parents were in town. I hadn't seen them since the wedding and they are great people. Sheffield and I had a bit of a clockwatch going on as well. His club was playing my lower division club, Bristol City. Vinnie had also stopped down and was streaming the Reading game.
It was a great reunion in some ways. Plus we did have a bit of entertainment by way of the MancScum game. The ManShitty game on the other hand, well, I guess shitty about explains it.
I took my leave after the games in order to get some much needed rest. It was becoming a much longer weekend without much sleep. Thank god I didn't try and deal with the shopping stupidity that affects this country. I can't believe what people will do for a 50 cent discount on shit they don't really need.
I'm too annoyed about it to rant at the moment. I'll just leave it.
OH Barça, how I adore you. Not only did one of your crews throw rocks at REAL Facist's motorbus but you did it on the field. BRILLIANT!
~LeChat
Showing posts with label band. Show all posts
Showing posts with label band. Show all posts
29 November 2010
15 March 2010
Porto (CL) and Hull Away
Midweek?
Yah, who cares. A solid trouncing of that big Portuguese club. Did you expect anything less? What was I doing, absolutely nothing. I was working, it was a mid-week match and that's all I ever do when there is a mid-week match, unless I have the glorious luck to be allowed a day off for whatever dead person who probably accomplished a lot more in theirs than I did in my 30 odd years of life.
So in short, I was too in shock to post because Beeker himself scored a hat trick. ArseBob even texted me the result and I was still in disbelief. Yes, my pink boot wearing muppet looking friend scored a hat trick. So I decided to wait and see what would happen this weekend.
Saturday
Life, which this blog is really about, is similar to football. So like football, the game is 90 minutes and the ball is round... those are the only two things that are certain; more or less death and taxes.
The pub, this morning, smelled of wet dog due to it not only being rainy but a large, and by large I mean world cup final amount large, number of St. Patrick's Festivities 5k runners decided to occupy my beloved little space in the world.
However, being the bunch we are, we were determined not to be moved by foul stench of undeodorized runner shoes and sweat. I am coughing just thinking of it. I knew I should have brought that can of oust with me.
Undeterred, I hopped on a bar stool next to one of the Chelski boys and proceeded to elbow the unlucky and very hairy gentleman beside me. I will mention, I did not do it on purpose but he was invading my territory; la Résistance was not going to let it happen again.
(cue La Marseillaise)
The long and short of it, the Chelski boys tried to sing them out of the pub but that didn't work out well enough. The only thing I knew for sure is that they would be gone by the time of the Arsenal match and that was my only concern.
Fucking HULL and their fucking manager, who by the way was put on "gardening" leave for being a complete and utter twat, just like his wanky little midfielder Boateng. I hate to say it but I am glad Cesc was not on the pitch for this stupidity.
The rest of the afternoon went along quite well, had a great conversation with a Rugby supporter, however we talked about everything else except sport. After which, I decided to follow Vinny up to another pub and had a very nice bleu cheese burger, not as good as thebarnextdoor but decent enough.
The night was capped off with me trying to fall asleep, yet my body trying to keep me awake. I blame that Mr. Van Gogh and his espresso. By the way, my superstar player name is seriously going to be Vennegoor of Hesselink. I want my name to form a horseshoe on my back. I should change it to something more appropriate though.
Sunday
I declared Sunday my non-football day. One because I was massively drained from the night before and two, the Formula 1 was on and I can watch it from my bed. Well I can listen to it, as I was way too tired to do much watching. By the way, I believe they have now got some of the worst announcers on television.
There used to be a good team but this one gentleman, of course the American accented one, made me want to pull out my brain. I guess the station does this to try and get more of a state-side audience but those things always fail in my book. Really, that 2 percent demographic in Peoria isn't going to turn to Formula 1, even though Juan Pablo went to Nascar. Say Whaaat?
I took my day of rest and spent it resting as Station (my band) had a show that evening in support of a good friend premiering his video and raising money to get a PA for speaking during his demos.
Matt was diagnosed with diabetes some time ago and has lost sight because of it. He, however, decided to not let it handicap him and has been doing Bike Trials Riding. He has been on NPR and several other outlets speaking for and about diabetes.
(Link to his site)
*Not the actual video but I thought I would share an earlier one.*
I believe he still may need some more donations, but if you have a moment, check out his videos, youtube/facebook blind bike trials and just give a hello. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.
By the way, Liverpool won...
~LeChat
Yah, who cares. A solid trouncing of that big Portuguese club. Did you expect anything less? What was I doing, absolutely nothing. I was working, it was a mid-week match and that's all I ever do when there is a mid-week match, unless I have the glorious luck to be allowed a day off for whatever dead person who probably accomplished a lot more in theirs than I did in my 30 odd years of life.
So in short, I was too in shock to post because Beeker himself scored a hat trick. ArseBob even texted me the result and I was still in disbelief. Yes, my pink boot wearing muppet looking friend scored a hat trick. So I decided to wait and see what would happen this weekend.
Saturday
Life, which this blog is really about, is similar to football. So like football, the game is 90 minutes and the ball is round... those are the only two things that are certain; more or less death and taxes.
The pub, this morning, smelled of wet dog due to it not only being rainy but a large, and by large I mean world cup final amount large, number of St. Patrick's Festivities 5k runners decided to occupy my beloved little space in the world.
However, being the bunch we are, we were determined not to be moved by foul stench of undeodorized runner shoes and sweat. I am coughing just thinking of it. I knew I should have brought that can of oust with me.
Undeterred, I hopped on a bar stool next to one of the Chelski boys and proceeded to elbow the unlucky and very hairy gentleman beside me. I will mention, I did not do it on purpose but he was invading my territory; la Résistance was not going to let it happen again.
(cue La Marseillaise)
The long and short of it, the Chelski boys tried to sing them out of the pub but that didn't work out well enough. The only thing I knew for sure is that they would be gone by the time of the Arsenal match and that was my only concern.
Fucking HULL and their fucking manager, who by the way was put on "gardening" leave for being a complete and utter twat, just like his wanky little midfielder Boateng. I hate to say it but I am glad Cesc was not on the pitch for this stupidity.
The rest of the afternoon went along quite well, had a great conversation with a Rugby supporter, however we talked about everything else except sport. After which, I decided to follow Vinny up to another pub and had a very nice bleu cheese burger, not as good as thebarnextdoor but decent enough.
The night was capped off with me trying to fall asleep, yet my body trying to keep me awake. I blame that Mr. Van Gogh and his espresso. By the way, my superstar player name is seriously going to be Vennegoor of Hesselink. I want my name to form a horseshoe on my back. I should change it to something more appropriate though.
Sunday
I declared Sunday my non-football day. One because I was massively drained from the night before and two, the Formula 1 was on and I can watch it from my bed. Well I can listen to it, as I was way too tired to do much watching. By the way, I believe they have now got some of the worst announcers on television.
There used to be a good team but this one gentleman, of course the American accented one, made me want to pull out my brain. I guess the station does this to try and get more of a state-side audience but those things always fail in my book. Really, that 2 percent demographic in Peoria isn't going to turn to Formula 1, even though Juan Pablo went to Nascar. Say Whaaat?
I took my day of rest and spent it resting as Station (my band) had a show that evening in support of a good friend premiering his video and raising money to get a PA for speaking during his demos.
Matt was diagnosed with diabetes some time ago and has lost sight because of it. He, however, decided to not let it handicap him and has been doing Bike Trials Riding. He has been on NPR and several other outlets speaking for and about diabetes.
(Link to his site)
*Not the actual video but I thought I would share an earlier one.*
I believe he still may need some more donations, but if you have a moment, check out his videos, youtube/facebook blind bike trials and just give a hello. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.
By the way, Liverpool won...
~LeChat
01 February 2010
United Home
Today, as I was leaving the garage where I park at for work. I pulled forward trying to get a jump on the traffic and cross over Howard. As expected, the light was not in my favor. A guy comes walking by and had to walk around my car, as I was trying to get out in to traffic.
After passing my car, he gives me a dirty look and calls out, "Asshole."
I smiled and nodded so that it was really noticeable. Seriously dude, tell me something that I don't know. Do you really think calling me an asshole is going to affect me in any way? Seriously?
Ok, it gave me a good laugh, I know I am an asshole. I mean I played as a forward/striker for the last 20 years. I only know one thing to do, be an asshole. Self absorbed, moody, blame everyone else for their mistakes cause none of it can be my own fault... need I continue?
Well this weekend was a bit of an interesting one for me. I found myself out in the middling state of Wisconsin, hanging out with a friend of mine. We ended up in a place called McBob's to get a gander at the Fulham-Villa match.
It was a good deal for being out of the element. We also ended up doing the Miller brewery tour. Now those who know, are aware I do have a bad reaction to certain mass produced American brews. However, one can not resist a brewery tour, even if it is Miller time.
I will admit the samples that were given at the end of the tour were about the size of half pints. I also believe the next morning, the Miller had a bad reaction with my body the next morning but I survived.
Sunday found me on my early flight back. I wore my colours all through the airport and it is probably why I got the extra pat down by security. What do I care anyways? The gentleman running security happened to spend quite a bit of time in Brasil. So we ended up having a conversation about football, while I was being searched for whatever contraband that I was suspiciously carrying.
By the time I had landed, ACMilan had called wondering when I was going to make it down. I had no proper clue but knew I couldn't miss the beginning. MancScum, they were going to be undone.
I had dropped off my bag and grabbed my bass, as I had band practice due to some odd scheduling, which would see me miss the second half. I don't know when I had ever missed a second half, at least not a good time.
This was definitely not a good time. The Arsenal suffered a breakdown in the back which left them wanting. We had let the MancScum go up on us and it was going to be a hard climb. I couldn't believe it.
At the half I had to go to practice, dejected and saddened by the lackluster display of my club, I took the trip with my score notifier dinging off. Band practice must have taken some clues from the Arsenal that day, as it was way off the mark.
I packed up and headed back down to rejoin ACMilan, MiniMourhino and ChelskiGirl. I had to get some food inside me and enjoyed a fresh pint of Magners. A few Magners later and all the bad things that happened earlier in the day were gone.
My mates are tried and true. Cheers! Slainte! Salut!
~LeChat
After passing my car, he gives me a dirty look and calls out, "Asshole."
I smiled and nodded so that it was really noticeable. Seriously dude, tell me something that I don't know. Do you really think calling me an asshole is going to affect me in any way? Seriously?
Ok, it gave me a good laugh, I know I am an asshole. I mean I played as a forward/striker for the last 20 years. I only know one thing to do, be an asshole. Self absorbed, moody, blame everyone else for their mistakes cause none of it can be my own fault... need I continue?
Well this weekend was a bit of an interesting one for me. I found myself out in the middling state of Wisconsin, hanging out with a friend of mine. We ended up in a place called McBob's to get a gander at the Fulham-Villa match.
It was a good deal for being out of the element. We also ended up doing the Miller brewery tour. Now those who know, are aware I do have a bad reaction to certain mass produced American brews. However, one can not resist a brewery tour, even if it is Miller time.
I will admit the samples that were given at the end of the tour were about the size of half pints. I also believe the next morning, the Miller had a bad reaction with my body the next morning but I survived.
Sunday found me on my early flight back. I wore my colours all through the airport and it is probably why I got the extra pat down by security. What do I care anyways? The gentleman running security happened to spend quite a bit of time in Brasil. So we ended up having a conversation about football, while I was being searched for whatever contraband that I was suspiciously carrying.
By the time I had landed, ACMilan had called wondering when I was going to make it down. I had no proper clue but knew I couldn't miss the beginning. MancScum, they were going to be undone.
I had dropped off my bag and grabbed my bass, as I had band practice due to some odd scheduling, which would see me miss the second half. I don't know when I had ever missed a second half, at least not a good time.
This was definitely not a good time. The Arsenal suffered a breakdown in the back which left them wanting. We had let the MancScum go up on us and it was going to be a hard climb. I couldn't believe it.
At the half I had to go to practice, dejected and saddened by the lackluster display of my club, I took the trip with my score notifier dinging off. Band practice must have taken some clues from the Arsenal that day, as it was way off the mark.
I packed up and headed back down to rejoin ACMilan, MiniMourhino and ChelskiGirl. I had to get some food inside me and enjoyed a fresh pint of Magners. A few Magners later and all the bad things that happened earlier in the day were gone.
My mates are tried and true. Cheers! Slainte! Salut!
~LeChat
04 January 2010
West Ham away (FA Cup) and the New Year.
A New Year and a new blog post!
Thursday (New Year's Eve)
My plans, well there were none technically. I never make concrete plans but I think we all know that. My New Year's usually ends up with me going to the pub and hanging around to watch the fireworks across the harbor.
However, I was blindsided, waylaid, mugged by the most annoying cold that I have ever been on the receiving end of. I woke up and decided it was going to be a thera-flu morning. Which I do highly recommend for all your cold/flu needs.
Now only if I could figure out a way to get paid for my name dropping.
I was finally able to rouse myself from tomb of blankets, as it has been Frostbite Falls cold lately. I am waiting for Boris and Natasha to come ask me if I have seen moose and squirrel. These are the times I miss the husky.
So I kept my profile low and celebrated the New Year with my band mates at the guitarist's home. Quiet, mellow and breaking it down to some good old Michael before he became a shadow of his former self.
Friday (New Year's Day)
Equally quiet. There was nothing happening on the football front. I decided to go join T-Bone at the bar across the way and watch some good old American College Football.
I wasn't good luck for his home team this time. ScouseGrubs came by as well. I think I waited half an hour for some breadsticks but they were worth it. I need to remember when going into foreign territory to order before I think I need to order. There's nothing like a slow ass kitchen.
I headed to band practice after the game. I find out at practice the band that was scheduled first for Saturday canceled out. Between myself and ScouseDrummer, we were scrambling to find a replacement.
Thank goodness for a couple of comedian friends, who just happen to be 35ers (Crystal Palace USA supporters).
Saturday
FA Cup Third Round. I do not know of a more interesting competition besides the FA Cup. It pits the minnows of the lower leagues against some of the big boys. It separates those who have heart from those who are just going through the motions. It is the great equalizer and my this weekend no exception.
Third Round, of course, is when the Premiership squads start playing. This is when you get to see sides like Torquay taking on Everton and the like. Well this year I believe Torquay played Brighton Hove Albion but it could have been Everton on any other day.
So Saturday brings us the glory of mighty Reading taking on the minnows, now known as Liverpool. It was really a lopsided draw in my opinion, now I didn't discount the Scousers but This. Is. READING! It was good to see Vinny out for a bit, plus he had a beautiful winterized Reading team anorak to fight off the cold and protect his wallet.
Let's just say it was a just score line and leave it at that.
Saturday Night (Station Debut)
WELL first of all I would like to thank all my football friends that braved the sub-zero temps and joined me at the Sidebar. It was really wonderful to see all of you out there. Seriously thank you from the bottom of my heart and I do hope you all enjoyed the show.
For those that missed, let's just say it was a good debut. From what I hear, many enjoyed it. GrumpyGooner was even impressed, which is a huge compliment coming from him.
I was getting stick all night from ScouseDrummer for wearing my Arsenal top, since we both promised not to wear kits on stage. I promised that I wouldn't and I had my Who the Fuck are Man United, shirt on underneath, complements of BayernMunich.
When we hopped on the stage, I pulled off my kit as promised. ScouseDrummer on cue started singing very quietly, Who the Fuck are Man United, which made me start in on full chorus.
The singer thrusts the mic in my face, cause I had half forgotten about the mic on stage for me and I was still in the midst of strapping my bass on. All I can say is that I was ready to go now. From the crowd came a shout from the Sherrif to shut the fuck up or something of that sort.
Like I said, it was a good show.
Sunday more FA Cup
I had left out early Saturday evening/Sunday morning after the show. I am not really a hang out person unless there is some football on the television. Plus I had still been feeling rather under the weather from the New Year's cold that was bogging me down.
I woke up four hours later and found myself at the pub staring at an HD feed of MancScum discussing the previous night with HalfArseDean. Must I say, this was a very nice Sunday treat. Leeds, which I am not a big fan of either, taking it to those gits. It was a thoroughly impressive showing and to watch old Fergie's head explode was an even better treat.
I spent the better half of the match chatting with HalfArseDean and trying to help LittleSister do a crossword. ChelskiGirl came in and joined us a bit later as well, let's just say all had a bit of a laugh at the Manc's expense.
My thing is, I want to see some of the CCTV feeds from the streets of Manchester. I know there had to be some running battles. Come on, Leeds v United, classic.
So the real match's time was upon us. Some of the usual suspects strolled in at their leisure. GrumpyGooner, quite a bit better than the last weekend. LilBlondieGooner still with her arm in a sling. So like I said, nothing unusual.
To my surprise though, Jazz pops in, without a jacket, walks over to the bar and orders a Stella from Irish. What is this, a New Year's miracle? GrumpyGooner and I get a few jibes in about Leeds on him, as we all settled in for a heart stopping match.
All I am going to say is that the Arsenal were very lucky to come out of this. They really need to do themselves a little better in the favor department. I know someone might nail me on my subject verb agreements above but it's my blog and I can be ungrammatical if I want to.
Monday the unexpected.
First day back to work. That's not what was interesting.
What was interesting is that I got a message from one of Pretzel's armed forces mates. He was looking him up and stumbled across the blog. He was unaware of what had happened and contacted me to get some details. It made me feel good to give him what I knew and that somewhere a interweb spider has linked me to one of the nicest and coolest people that I have had the pleasure of meeting and then giving me a way to share that information with others.
It also made me think about how temporal everything is in this world. I don't mean to sound cliche but sometimes you must seize the moment without regrets.
Live your life as you will not have any other.
or in my usual tongue...
TAKE THE FUCKING SHOT! BLOODY FUCKING HELL!
~LeChat
Thursday (New Year's Eve)
My plans, well there were none technically. I never make concrete plans but I think we all know that. My New Year's usually ends up with me going to the pub and hanging around to watch the fireworks across the harbor.
However, I was blindsided, waylaid, mugged by the most annoying cold that I have ever been on the receiving end of. I woke up and decided it was going to be a thera-flu morning. Which I do highly recommend for all your cold/flu needs.
Now only if I could figure out a way to get paid for my name dropping.
I was finally able to rouse myself from tomb of blankets, as it has been Frostbite Falls cold lately. I am waiting for Boris and Natasha to come ask me if I have seen moose and squirrel. These are the times I miss the husky.
So I kept my profile low and celebrated the New Year with my band mates at the guitarist's home. Quiet, mellow and breaking it down to some good old Michael before he became a shadow of his former self.
Friday (New Year's Day)
Equally quiet. There was nothing happening on the football front. I decided to go join T-Bone at the bar across the way and watch some good old American College Football.
I wasn't good luck for his home team this time. ScouseGrubs came by as well. I think I waited half an hour for some breadsticks but they were worth it. I need to remember when going into foreign territory to order before I think I need to order. There's nothing like a slow ass kitchen.
I headed to band practice after the game. I find out at practice the band that was scheduled first for Saturday canceled out. Between myself and ScouseDrummer, we were scrambling to find a replacement.
Thank goodness for a couple of comedian friends, who just happen to be 35ers (Crystal Palace USA supporters).
Saturday
FA Cup Third Round. I do not know of a more interesting competition besides the FA Cup. It pits the minnows of the lower leagues against some of the big boys. It separates those who have heart from those who are just going through the motions. It is the great equalizer and my this weekend no exception.
Third Round, of course, is when the Premiership squads start playing. This is when you get to see sides like Torquay taking on Everton and the like. Well this year I believe Torquay played Brighton Hove Albion but it could have been Everton on any other day.
So Saturday brings us the glory of mighty Reading taking on the minnows, now known as Liverpool. It was really a lopsided draw in my opinion, now I didn't discount the Scousers but This. Is. READING! It was good to see Vinny out for a bit, plus he had a beautiful winterized Reading team anorak to fight off the cold and protect his wallet.
Let's just say it was a just score line and leave it at that.
Saturday Night (Station Debut)
WELL first of all I would like to thank all my football friends that braved the sub-zero temps and joined me at the Sidebar. It was really wonderful to see all of you out there. Seriously thank you from the bottom of my heart and I do hope you all enjoyed the show.
For those that missed, let's just say it was a good debut. From what I hear, many enjoyed it. GrumpyGooner was even impressed, which is a huge compliment coming from him.
I was getting stick all night from ScouseDrummer for wearing my Arsenal top, since we both promised not to wear kits on stage. I promised that I wouldn't and I had my Who the Fuck are Man United, shirt on underneath, complements of BayernMunich.
When we hopped on the stage, I pulled off my kit as promised. ScouseDrummer on cue started singing very quietly, Who the Fuck are Man United, which made me start in on full chorus.
The singer thrusts the mic in my face, cause I had half forgotten about the mic on stage for me and I was still in the midst of strapping my bass on. All I can say is that I was ready to go now. From the crowd came a shout from the Sherrif to shut the fuck up or something of that sort.
Like I said, it was a good show.
Sunday more FA Cup
I had left out early Saturday evening/Sunday morning after the show. I am not really a hang out person unless there is some football on the television. Plus I had still been feeling rather under the weather from the New Year's cold that was bogging me down.
I woke up four hours later and found myself at the pub staring at an HD feed of MancScum discussing the previous night with HalfArseDean. Must I say, this was a very nice Sunday treat. Leeds, which I am not a big fan of either, taking it to those gits. It was a thoroughly impressive showing and to watch old Fergie's head explode was an even better treat.
I spent the better half of the match chatting with HalfArseDean and trying to help LittleSister do a crossword. ChelskiGirl came in and joined us a bit later as well, let's just say all had a bit of a laugh at the Manc's expense.
My thing is, I want to see some of the CCTV feeds from the streets of Manchester. I know there had to be some running battles. Come on, Leeds v United, classic.
So the real match's time was upon us. Some of the usual suspects strolled in at their leisure. GrumpyGooner, quite a bit better than the last weekend. LilBlondieGooner still with her arm in a sling. So like I said, nothing unusual.
To my surprise though, Jazz pops in, without a jacket, walks over to the bar and orders a Stella from Irish. What is this, a New Year's miracle? GrumpyGooner and I get a few jibes in about Leeds on him, as we all settled in for a heart stopping match.
All I am going to say is that the Arsenal were very lucky to come out of this. They really need to do themselves a little better in the favor department. I know someone might nail me on my subject verb agreements above but it's my blog and I can be ungrammatical if I want to.
Monday the unexpected.
First day back to work. That's not what was interesting.
What was interesting is that I got a message from one of Pretzel's armed forces mates. He was looking him up and stumbled across the blog. He was unaware of what had happened and contacted me to get some details. It made me feel good to give him what I knew and that somewhere a interweb spider has linked me to one of the nicest and coolest people that I have had the pleasure of meeting and then giving me a way to share that information with others.
It also made me think about how temporal everything is in this world. I don't mean to sound cliche but sometimes you must seize the moment without regrets.
Live your life as you will not have any other.
or in my usual tongue...
TAKE THE FUCKING SHOT! BLOODY FUCKING HELL!
~LeChat
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