Gone to the dogs.
Last Saturday, I had a night where I did something for me and nobody else. Yes, don’t faint. I went to the dog racing.
Never been before and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Well, I would have if I’d have done better, but you know my luck.
Let’s begin, shall we. You have fourteen races and I chose my winner for each. Should be simple, but after five races my track record was … Last, last, last, last and disqualified.
Now how, you may ask, can a bloody greyhound get disqualified? Easy, if it’s mine, and especially if despite being in the lead, my dog decides to pick a fight with the one in second place as the race approaches its conclusion.
Still, it was a good night and here is a shot of the action.
You can’t see anything? But what do you expect, it’s a greyhound race. They’re quick. Well, apart from my dogs who went by the name of Pedigree Chum. It did get better, I’m thankful to say. Let’s face it, it had to. By the end of the night and despite having another two lasts, I did achieve a winner and five second places.
Coming in second. Story of my life.
Prince Charming.
No, not Adam Ant, I actually like him. The poncy prince I’m referring to is the current hundredth or so in line to the throne.
Prince Andrew was strolling around Buckingham Palace recently when he was pounced on by security who through he was an intruder. Instead of complying with officers doing their job, the prince uttered the classic, “Don’t you know who I am?”
No, Andrew, or they wouldn’t have bloody held you at gunpoint.
Apparently he gave the officers a right dressing down and is now grateful for having received an apology. What he should be grateful for is having trained staff on the ball in pinpointing a total stranger. Come on, since when has Andrew done anything remotely connected with royalty and no, A Royal It’s a Knockout, doesn’t count.
He spends so much time jetting about from one golf tournament to the next, it’s no wonder the guards didn’t recognise him. They probably forgot what he looked like.
Next time, Andrew should remember some people do a difficult job rather than acting like a pompous prick.
South Staffordshire Water … torture.
It’s always a nightmare trying to collect my from school. The place is situated in a narrow road and due to the nature of the school, dozens of coaches and taxis arrive twice a day to drop off and collect the kids. Therefore, with six weeks holiday recently, you’d have thought that the ideal time to conduct any roadworks.
Not so, South Staffs Water.
There we have it, how to make an already difficult problem ten times worse. So, South Staffs … ten out of ten for making improvements, but minus two thousand for planning.
Deck the halls.
Oh no. No, no, no no, no!
I saw this the other day.
It’s September, for Christ’s sake, and the Co-op have selection boxes and other Christmas goodies on the shelves.
I wouldn’t mind, but they’ll have gone off by December.
Things that go bump.
Went on a ghost hunt on Friday at Warwick Castle. I’d not been on one this year and thought, if I’m going to an event this year, do a big one.
It was good. We had moving objects, voices and all sorts. Although I was disturbed by one criticism of myself. I’m probably not the only person who could flirt with a ghost, thank you. I bet there are many more. Look, it’s not exactly necrophilia, I just like to get into the spirit.
Still, I said hello to a few famous faces but can’t explain the dark shadow to the left of Winston Churchill’s shoulder. And no, it’s not my thumb, unless parts of my body have become transparent and not only that, the shadow was on the next photo taken from a totally different angle.
Love these ghost hunts, though going to bed at 5am is pretty rough for me these days.
Above is also from the ghost night and my pathetic attempt to hide the fact I ate all the chocolate biscuits.
I could get used to this life of leisure activities.
Two weeks running. First the dogs, now ghosts and I have to admit to really enjoying ghost nights, especially when volunteering to sit in cupboards. There’s no spiritual or investigative reason for doing so. I just like sitting in cupboards.
Cheers.
Nick
Antony N Britt - Author 