First it was the Kenny Rogers hair cut, then came the boy band look.
But now???
Please chat amongst yourselves. I'll let you lot decide who he's trying to impersonate this time.
For those that don't know, this sheep impersonator is Loz!
Courtesy of a Jordan F1 team member friend of Simon, we all had an invite into the Jordan pits on race day for the 2004 Italian Grand Prix at Monza. As well as being an incredibly interesting day out, and one that very few people are fortunate to experience, it also had it's mildly amusing moments;
Whilst we're busy posing for the below photo which was being taken by Simon's mate from Jordan, there were people outside on pit lane staring in at us from behind a barrier, taking photos of us! The paparazzi must have thought we were of some major importance. Either that or they fancied us (which to be honest isn't very likely).
From left to right: Tony, Simon, Pete and finally myself.
That's all an F1 car gets for an exhaust, it's no wonder they're so deafeningly loud.
The epicentre. It's just a great big powerful remote control for the cars really.
No wheels and engine? I see the Liverpudlians must have got there first (No disrespect to the vastly law abiding citizens of Liverpool).
I was talking to Simon a few days ago, and just for the crack he's decided to auction a large framed copy of the first picture (the one of the four of us) on ebay. He's trying to prove the theory that some people really will buy absolutely anything. I reckon if it does actually sell, we'll be lucky to get fifty pence for it, however Si's a lot more optimistic thinking he'll easily get 10 quid for it. He's of the opinion that somebody will buy it then hang it on their wall, so that when guests visit and look at the picture, he can tell them the people in the photo are his mates and he was the one taking the photo. Well, it's an interesting if not somewhat bizarre theory. I'll let you know how things go.
Around three or four years after the idiotic car driving era (as seen in the previous post), and prior to any of us actually growing up, Loz and myself went out for a few beers with our friends Chris and his girlfriend who lived in Tamworth. At around pub closing time it was decided we should all go for a curry.
This in itself was fine.
Unfortunately for us, the whole event was slightly marred because of some bloke sitting behind Loz and myself wearing a ridiculous tank top with horizontal stripes made up of pastel colours.
Chris and his sober girlfriend were facing Loz and myself and had a good clear view of Tank Top Man who was quietly sat at the table with his mates.
Upon catching site of the tank top, Chris couldn't contain himself. He was in fits of laughter and desperately needed to share his amusement with Loz and myself. Loz was too busy tucking into his chicken madras to worry about some bloke with a tank top, so I decided to turn round and have a quick peep myself. That's all it took, just that one glance. The pair of us had tears streaming down our faces. But it was a bit like a drug addiction, one glance simply wasn't enough. I needed another fix!!!
"Go on Mike, take another look."
"I can't. The bloke's bound to notice"
With that, Chris hurls a fork over my shoulder, a great excuse for me to get up/turn round, pick it up and steel another glance.
And so it went on for twenty minutes or more, fork flying aplenty, both Chris and myself in fits of laughter, Loz taking no notice what so ever, being too engrossed in the important task of curry eating, and Chris's girlfriend getting more and more embarrassed and outraged.
Eventually Chris's girlfriend, realising that we were taking no notice of her calls for silence, turned to Loz for support.
"Loz, please get them to pack it in, you're the only sensible one here."
Dutifully, Loz gives in to her pleas for help. Slamming his knife and fork down, turning round and pointing in the direction of Tank Top Man, he takes a deep breath, and at the top of his voice, bellows....
"Look, I don't see what's so funny about THAT MAN'S TANK TOP!!!" (Point, point, point point)
As you can imagine, the by now ex girlfriend stands up and storms out the restaurant.
*The End*
Oh dear, we're not painting a very good picture of ourselves are we?
After almost 21 years, Nick's infamous videos from around Burntwood have finally re-emerged and have now gone digital. They can all be found on Youtube by following the links below.
Jeeez, who was responsible for the 1986 hair styles?
I think it's about time I unleashed some of my old videos onto the world.... Watch this space! Oh, the up and coming shame of it all....
Escort Antics 1
Escort Antics 2
Escort Antics 3
Escort Antics 4
Great Old Chestnuts Of The World No 8
Going Down the Nags In A Jeep
Matt's sister Katherine, who's an artist and an incredible dab hand with a paintbrush, recently visited Macchi Moor, Arran, and came away with some absolutely stunning photographs. She's very kindly given me a copy of the photos so I could tinker around with them in Photoshop. I haven't done much to them apart from making them a little more moody and atmospheric. Here's the results for four of my favourites. Talk about the right place at the right time!!!
Oh and Neil... yes you, Mr Ruffle, I know you read this in your lunch break.... Any chance you could get round to sorting out some of your fantastic Dakar photos so we can stick a bit of colour on these pages? There's a serious lack of anything motorcycle happening around here at the moment!
"When we come into the pub, there's no reason why we shouldn't see friggin' logs on the god damn fire!"
Chainsaw Mark isn't happy.
"If I go to the trouble of fetching ba****d logs off the Chase and chopping them up with my chainsaw, whilst Desperate goes through all the sweat and ball ache of splitting them, the least you can do is get off your lazy ass and light the friggin' fire in the afternoon!"
He's still ranting.
"I wouldn't care, but we don't get so much as a thank you, kiss my ass or nothing."
Desperate isn't happy either.
"The other morning at seven o'clock I went around the back of the pub and spent two hours sawing up kindling to be used to get the fire started, and some f****r decided to stick the whole lot on an already lit fire. Do you ever see them getting off their asses to make a contribution? No you friggin' don't. If it wasn't for Chainsaw Mark and myself there would never be a fire in the place."
He continues with foam frothing from the mouth....
"Do you realise, the other day when it started snowing, Chainsaw Mark went via the pub on the way to work to put a tarpaulin over the logs to stop them getting wet because he knew no other f****r would be bothered. I wouldn't care but it's not our b*****d pub, it's yours and you can't be arsed."
Gaffer is mumbling and stuttering his excuses.
My mild amusement quickly turns to frustration.
"Gaffer?"
"Gaffer?"
"For Christ's sake, you don't need a bloody fire with all the hot air you're all spouting. Now can I just have a friggin' pint before I start pulling my own?" (Ladies behave, I know what you're thinking!)
I was driving to work this morning and noticed that somebody had written FFO KCUF in the dirty back window of my car, at least that's what it sort of looked like from my rear view mirror. Now, I fully understand it's an age old tradition for kids (and the odd adult as well....huhumm) to graffiti the rear end of dirty cars and vans, but where has the real tradition gone? What's happened to the good old days of harmless but witty phrases like?:
Please clean me
Also available in white
I wish my wife was as dirty as my car
Your car maybe dirty but your wife's dirtier
How's my driving? www.upyours.whatever (please, for Christ sake don't try the dot com version)
and etc etc....
What's happened to our Great British education system in the year 2007? A plain old simple, none constructive FFO KCUF really isn't good enough!
It went against the grain, but I visited a Drive-thru McDonalds the other day. Please don't judge me for this; it was cold and I needed some hot food instantly. Although I realise the staff really do make an effort to serve up the most god awful food they can possible get away with, I never put them down as the sort of people who are actively trying to out-do Gordon Ramsey in the rudeness stakes.
I'm greeted by a young lady at the window, who unbeknown to me at this point in time, is luring me into a false sense of security.
"Good morning, can I take your order sir?."
After a brief moment battling my health morals, I presented her with my order.
"Umm errr, umm, errr (please note that it was definitely more of a umm errr than a oooh errr. I would hate to make myself sound like some sort of lecherous pervert who ogles employees of The McDonalds Corporation), I'll have a double quarter pounder cheeseburger meal with a diet coke, please."
Silently content with myself for letting pure greed get the better of my conscience, I cheerfully handed over my money with a smile. At this point, I'd normally expect some sort of "thank you". There was nothing like that, not even a "have a nice day"....
"Your meal will be a few minutes, could you drive over there (she's pointing by this stage), and park in the disabled spot."
Disabled spot!!!
Excuse me!!!
Let me introduce you to the infamous Car Crash Lane.
It's bared witness to more casualties than the A&E department of Burton Hospital (and I'm proud to say I joined the club a few years ago when my motorbike decided to hug a tree or two).
On a bright sunny summers day it's nothing short of downright dangerous, but on a morning like today it's a foregone conclusion that it'll claim another victim.
Sure enough, not to be disappointed, today the evil country lane cursed by the devil claimed its latest victim.
Last week I had my car hand washed by the local Polish people that have taken over the local garage close to where I work.
(note: I'm talking about Polish as in people from Poland, not polish as in something you might like to do to your wooden furniture, car, motorbike, penis etc)
Now, you would have thought £3 is cheap for a hand wash on your car. Not so!
By my rough calculations, they've only actually washed 50% of my car. This makes for not such a good deal! But all is not lost. Things seem to be looking up because, when I drove past the garage this morning I noticed they'd put their prices up to £5. Maybe this is because they've now decided to wash peoples entire vehicles and not just half of them. If this is true, I'll now be getting my WHOLE car washed for £5 and not £6 which you'd expect to be paying.
I suggest everybody rushes over and gets their car done at this bargain price before one of them realises they're ripping themselves off.
On Friday, to celebrate my up and coming birthday, which was yesterday, we all piled into the local village pub to watch Dumpy from Dumpy's Rusty Nuts play an acoustic set. Andy, our local village pub barman, who's also the drummer from said band joined in the fun with a bit of bongoing on the bongo (although technically, I don't think the bongo type thing was actually called a bongo).
I have no idea what happened to Dean. I suspect he couldn't keep up with the drinking pace. Somewhere halfway through the evening he starting slowing down, then he disappeared for a while, then he disappeared altogether, never to be seen again.......
......Not too dissimilar to when he's out on his bike with us!!!
Anyway, a good night was had by all (I presume). It's just a shame Saturday was spoilt by a hangover from hell.
(BTW, only joking Dean)
I'd also just like to thank Matt (Joey) for vastly improving my birthday by knocking on my front door and dragging me out for a bike ride, although I didn't really take any dragging.
Our friend Pete has just started his own blog.
Could everyone click here and say hello to him because he's a little bit lonely and has no blogging friends.
You could also take a look at the About ME section of his website (that's the only section finished so far). I have to say, it's very amusing. How many people do you know that have been bullied and tied up by special needs children in wheelchairs with leg irons?
Have a good weekend everyone.
