So anyway, I set off to Arran with 7 others for a weekend of golf (don't let that fool you...I am as cool as fuck), and general merriment...
One of the slight drawbacks in living in sunny Haymarket is that I occasionally have to park my motor under a row of trees.
As well as the said motor getting coated by a kind of sappy gloop stuff which the trees emit, a group of resident crows use my motor for shitting target practise.
These aren't dainty little 10p size jobbies...no sir...it looks like terradactyl size stools...and my poor Mondeo gets savagely splattered with keech.
I try my best to keep my car clean and meticulously valet it, however all this is outwith my control, and consequently I was subjected to a weekend of constant ridicule regarding the state of my car...
Shocking behaviour....
We left sensibly early and had plenty of time to enjoy a relaxing coffee at Ardrossan before boarding Caledonian Macbrayne's finest to begin our voyage to the Isle of Arran.
The relaxation element was abruptly curtailed when I discovered I'd left my jacket with my wallet in it on Ardrossan Pier at the cafe.
Result!
With 3 minutes till sailing time I ran down the gangway and into the cafe desperately shouting at random officials if they'd seen my jacket.
It turned out it had been handed in and was on the ship...and so with seconds to spare I ran up the gangway and had to leap 15 feet through the air just managing to grab the rail of the boat and haul myself on board, (slight exaggeration, but more or less accurate)...
Had a couple of rounds of one of the best and quirkiest golf courses in the world..Shiskine...just a 12 hole course..but brimming with character...
(don't let this golf talk fool you...I am as cool as fuck, ok?)
Colin obviously felt slightly aggrieved at my headline grabbing stupidity with my jacket, and decided to up the ante by locking Bilbo's car keys inside the boot of his car, (with 4 sets of golf clubs as well)
The look on his face when he disclosed his accident to us will live long in the memory...
I described it as that of a man who was cleaning his shotgun in his house and had accidentally blown the head off of a close relative...
The whole golf element of the weekend was hanging in the balance....
Luckily my RAC membership came to the rescue...
They cover the member not the car (news to me), so a local mechanic came and spent a few hours trying to, and finally managing to open the boot using an impressive array of little inflatable things to ease the door open and allow him to fiddle with the wiring...
A classic demonstration of how the most modern secure cars can be gotten into by people who have the right tools and know what they are doing.
woo hoo!
36 more holes of golf (I am COOL) followed on the Saturday...
I had started off playing quite well, but by the last game had gone into a tailspin and on the last game played possibly the worst game of golf I've ever played in my life...
In spite of this myself and Bilbo came second in the team challenge..won by Colin and Rob...yeah yeah yeah...it's all about taking part etc etc
On the Saturday night we had a prolonged session at the pool table...
We had been joined/invaded by a holidaying female mentalist from East Kilbride who introduced herself as "Ginsie"...
At first I thought she was just a friendly soul, but quickly it became apparent that she had the "Fatal Attraction" DVD at home and had watched it every day for the past 20 years.
I glanced over my shoulder to see her polish off the whisky we had filled the golf trophy with...hmmm...
She then proceeded to expose her cleavage theatrically above whatever pocket on the pool table any one of the innocent golfers was aiming at.
It wasn't something that you saw every day that's for sure.
Over the course of the weekend I argued with the rest of the golfers about the correct terminology to describe melted cheese on a piece of toast (yes "toast"...that word is critical)
I say "toasted cheese", but everyone else in the party idiotically calls it "cheese on toast"...
Bizarre...
It doesn't make sense...
If you were a rock band and you had to choose between two names, namely "Cheese on Toast" or "Toasted Cheese", is there any doubt whatsoever which one you would choose???
No more questions, your honour....
I was also impressed by one of our party being able save on their hotel bill by fitting snugly into a swan vestas matchbox, using a toffo wrapper as a duvet and an acorn as a pillow...
You really had to be there to appreciate it though...
Another impressive moment concerned a member of the party,mysteriously named as "Peanut" taking 2 hours to remove a mattress from a top bunkbed.
He wanted to do this because the person on the lower bunk had decided to remove his mattress to the floor.
Fearing a World Trade Center-esque collapse, Mr Peanut decided to adopt a safety first approach.
You really had to be there to appreciate it though...
1 comment:
Now toast is actually short for "toasted bread"...
By the same token, "toasted cheese" is actually cheese which has been toasted - the words "toasted cheese", therefore, would refer solely to the cheesy element of your meal...
The only logical conclusion is that what you were eating was toasted cheese on toast...
This assumes of course that you did actually toast the bread first before applying the cheese which was subsequently toasted....
If not, then I think we're talking toasted cheese on warm bread...)
I thank you in advance...
Re the golf, you are as cool as Alice Cooper...
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