Happy Birthday to Mrs Wife, who's now as old as her husband.
Showing posts with label Birthdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birthdays. Show all posts
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Thursday, April 08, 2010
It Was Thirty Years Ago Today....
....That I took my first lungfuls of air in Ninewells Hospital, Dundee.This photograph was taken a bit later when I was Christened.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Brass Bands Play and Feet Start To Pound
Today marks the beginning of my 30th trip around the sun, so I thought I'd commemorate the occasion with the video from the song that was top of the hit parade 29 years ago today.
Paul Weller has looked pretty cool throughout most ofhis career (we'll turn a blind eye to the Style Council/Band Aid years). It's just a pity that Bruce Foxton insisted on the mullet....
I would embed the video, but YouTube won't let me - so here it is.
Paul Weller has looked pretty cool throughout most ofhis career (we'll turn a blind eye to the Style Council/Band Aid years). It's just a pity that Bruce Foxton insisted on the mullet....
I would embed the video, but YouTube won't let me - so here it is.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Of Hiccups, Monster Bobs and Visas
The dust is finally settling on a fairly hectic weekend and I'm almost able to keep my eyes open long enough to post, so I'll try to collect my thoughts.
Friday's working day culminated in a leaving night for a fellow employee, and the drink was flowing freely at the start of the evening. My recollections of events are hazy, but I'm told that my Elvis impersonation kept my colleagues amused.
Thankfully, I had the sense to bail out before things got too messy, and instead subjected the passengers on the Aberdeen to Montrose train to a spectacular bout of hiccups that lasted for the duration of the journey. These hiccups were more like sonic booms, and were so loud that I could hear them above Definitely Maybe cranked up full blast on the Magic Tune Box.
Having arrived in Montrose, I decided that food was required, and treated myself to a pizza. The first bite removed removed several layers off the interior lining of my mouth, and in shock I managed to spill molten cheese on both my hands. All in all, a fairly eventful post-pub meal.
After staggering from the pizza shop to Dungroanin', I managed to scare Pepper, Mrs Wife's rabbit, half to death, then retreated to bed.
Unfortunately, Saturday dawned for me at the early hour of 7.30am. Unable to get back to sleep, I settled on the couch, wrapped in a fake fur throw, and allowed my hangover to build up a head of steam.
What I found out later in the day was that a combination of hail, snow, horizontal rain and howling winds, mixed with the standard of football offered up in an end-of-season Angus derby, is enough to shift even the most stubborn of hangovers.
Though the match wasn't dire, the standard of refereeing, in a league renowned for atrocious officials, was honking, and the man in black's performance was enough in itself to deny Montrose a confirmed play-off spot. For a week at least.
And so Saturday night started with me shivering, attempting to restore my core body temperature to something above freezing and preparing for a second consecutive night on the lash.
I believe a good time was had by all, with most of the assembled crowd enjoying their first visit to Roo's Leap. This vast amount of food was washed down with a few civilised drinks....
....Which doesn't really explain how I ended up finally going to bed at 6am, having woken the whole house with an impromptu didgeridoo solo.
My body clock must still be on British Winter Time, because I awoke at 8.30am, unable to do anything but doze fitfully until my lift to Dundee arrived. Why Dundee? To take in the Dundee United v Rangers SPL match, one of the more entertaining games I've been to this season, albeit one in which the final result left a lot to be desired. But no team can expect to go behind three times and still win a match.
A long day at work on Monday was followed by a trip north to Ellon, where Mrs Wife acquired her second rabbit, a bouncing boy now known as Dylan (in tribute to Robert Zimmerman, not The Magic Roundabout).
Introducing Dylan and Pepper has been a high-tension affair. Pepper is no longer in possession of her womanly organs, but Dylan still has a full set of boy bits, and he's eager to use them. So far, as Pepper has investigated this newcomer, she's smacked him around the nose a few times and attempted to give him a warning nibble on the nose. But Dylan seems to take this as foreplay, so there may be testing times ahead.
Yesterday, the 28th anniversary of my arrival on this planet, saw Mrs Wife and I venture south to Edinburgh, with the intention of collecting our Chinese visas. Unfortunately, the Chinese Consulate is an awkward beast, and no amount of discussion or offers of cash would tempt them to process the application in a single day. Which means that I'll have to make a return journey next week.
So, a busy weekend means I'm pretty shattered and looking forward to a few evenings of realxing on the sofa to recuperate.
I must be getting old.
Friday's working day culminated in a leaving night for a fellow employee, and the drink was flowing freely at the start of the evening. My recollections of events are hazy, but I'm told that my Elvis impersonation kept my colleagues amused.
Thankfully, I had the sense to bail out before things got too messy, and instead subjected the passengers on the Aberdeen to Montrose train to a spectacular bout of hiccups that lasted for the duration of the journey. These hiccups were more like sonic booms, and were so loud that I could hear them above Definitely Maybe cranked up full blast on the Magic Tune Box.
Having arrived in Montrose, I decided that food was required, and treated myself to a pizza. The first bite removed removed several layers off the interior lining of my mouth, and in shock I managed to spill molten cheese on both my hands. All in all, a fairly eventful post-pub meal.
After staggering from the pizza shop to Dungroanin', I managed to scare Pepper, Mrs Wife's rabbit, half to death, then retreated to bed.
Unfortunately, Saturday dawned for me at the early hour of 7.30am. Unable to get back to sleep, I settled on the couch, wrapped in a fake fur throw, and allowed my hangover to build up a head of steam.
What I found out later in the day was that a combination of hail, snow, horizontal rain and howling winds, mixed with the standard of football offered up in an end-of-season Angus derby, is enough to shift even the most stubborn of hangovers.
Though the match wasn't dire, the standard of refereeing, in a league renowned for atrocious officials, was honking, and the man in black's performance was enough in itself to deny Montrose a confirmed play-off spot. For a week at least.
And so Saturday night started with me shivering, attempting to restore my core body temperature to something above freezing and preparing for a second consecutive night on the lash.
I believe a good time was had by all, with most of the assembled crowd enjoying their first visit to Roo's Leap. This vast amount of food was washed down with a few civilised drinks....
....Which doesn't really explain how I ended up finally going to bed at 6am, having woken the whole house with an impromptu didgeridoo solo.
My body clock must still be on British Winter Time, because I awoke at 8.30am, unable to do anything but doze fitfully until my lift to Dundee arrived. Why Dundee? To take in the Dundee United v Rangers SPL match, one of the more entertaining games I've been to this season, albeit one in which the final result left a lot to be desired. But no team can expect to go behind three times and still win a match.
A long day at work on Monday was followed by a trip north to Ellon, where Mrs Wife acquired her second rabbit, a bouncing boy now known as Dylan (in tribute to Robert Zimmerman, not The Magic Roundabout).
Introducing Dylan and Pepper has been a high-tension affair. Pepper is no longer in possession of her womanly organs, but Dylan still has a full set of boy bits, and he's eager to use them. So far, as Pepper has investigated this newcomer, she's smacked him around the nose a few times and attempted to give him a warning nibble on the nose. But Dylan seems to take this as foreplay, so there may be testing times ahead.
Yesterday, the 28th anniversary of my arrival on this planet, saw Mrs Wife and I venture south to Edinburgh, with the intention of collecting our Chinese visas. Unfortunately, the Chinese Consulate is an awkward beast, and no amount of discussion or offers of cash would tempt them to process the application in a single day. Which means that I'll have to make a return journey next week.
So, a busy weekend means I'm pretty shattered and looking forward to a few evenings of realxing on the sofa to recuperate.
I must be getting old.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Hell For Leather, Lathered, Drunk, I'm Soused, I'm Pissed, I'm Sunk
I'm four days short of completing my 28th journey around the sun, and to commemorate this inauspicious occasion, a great part of this weekend will be spent in a drunken stupor.
It seems curious that, as I've progressed in age and in weight, my capacity to handle alcohol has dimished almost in direct proportion.
As 17-year-olds, my friends and I would think nothing of drinking a half bottle of vodka each BEFORE going out to the pubs. And then feeling full, fit and mad for it again on Sunday morning, right and ready enough to tackle a game of football.
But, as a 28-year-old weighing two stone more than I did at my fighting weight, it takes substantially less alcohol to send me on the slippery slope to drunkenness and hangover hell.
I'm at a loss as to the reasons for this. I can't now imagine starting a night out with a couple of beers, finishing the best part of a half bottle of vodka and then spending four hours in the pub drinking more vodka. But surely, as I age, my body should be more tolerant of the punishment I inflict upon it?
Anyway, the amount of drink I can handle is beside the point. This weekend, a sociable meal at Roo's Leap in Montrose will be followed by several hours of carnage in Montrose's pubs, with several members of the party new to the excitement of drinking in the town of Gable Enders.
I may report back. If I'm able to write and able to remember what happened.
It seems curious that, as I've progressed in age and in weight, my capacity to handle alcohol has dimished almost in direct proportion.
As 17-year-olds, my friends and I would think nothing of drinking a half bottle of vodka each BEFORE going out to the pubs. And then feeling full, fit and mad for it again on Sunday morning, right and ready enough to tackle a game of football.
But, as a 28-year-old weighing two stone more than I did at my fighting weight, it takes substantially less alcohol to send me on the slippery slope to drunkenness and hangover hell.
I'm at a loss as to the reasons for this. I can't now imagine starting a night out with a couple of beers, finishing the best part of a half bottle of vodka and then spending four hours in the pub drinking more vodka. But surely, as I age, my body should be more tolerant of the punishment I inflict upon it?
Anyway, the amount of drink I can handle is beside the point. This weekend, a sociable meal at Roo's Leap in Montrose will be followed by several hours of carnage in Montrose's pubs, with several members of the party new to the excitement of drinking in the town of Gable Enders.
I may report back. If I'm able to write and able to remember what happened.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Alaska Here I Come
I've yet to break the news to Mrs Wife, but it seems I might be otherwise engaged on the occasion of her 29th birthday.
Birthdays - you get one every year, and once the 21st one is past, they're barely worth celebrating any more.
Therefore, when Mrs Wife completes her 29th trip around the sun, I may be far away from the Scottish homestead, taking my sporting endeavours to a brand new audience.
The occasion?
The ninth World Beard and Moustache Championships.
Unfortunately, a combination of style and inability has restricted my beard and moustache-growing endeavours up until now. But I think that with almost 14 months' notice, I could whip my whiskers into a suitably eye-catching style in an effort to capture the title for the United Kingdom.
I'm open to suggestions - should I be rocking the wild untamed cave man look for the World Championships, or instead spend some time with a tub of warm moustache wax as I twist the flowing locks sprouting from my nose into a fantastic handlebar effort? I'm willing to accept guidance from my readers as to the direction my face fuzz should take.
Though I think some of my fellow competitors will take some beating....
Birthdays - you get one every year, and once the 21st one is past, they're barely worth celebrating any more.
Therefore, when Mrs Wife completes her 29th trip around the sun, I may be far away from the Scottish homestead, taking my sporting endeavours to a brand new audience.
The occasion?
The ninth World Beard and Moustache Championships.
Unfortunately, a combination of style and inability has restricted my beard and moustache-growing endeavours up until now. But I think that with almost 14 months' notice, I could whip my whiskers into a suitably eye-catching style in an effort to capture the title for the United Kingdom.
I'm open to suggestions - should I be rocking the wild untamed cave man look for the World Championships, or instead spend some time with a tub of warm moustache wax as I twist the flowing locks sprouting from my nose into a fantastic handlebar effort? I'm willing to accept guidance from my readers as to the direction my face fuzz should take.
Though I think some of my fellow competitors will take some beating....
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Birthday Meme
Tish over at The Kat House tagged me with The Birthday Meme.
Here are the rules:
Go to Wikipedia and type in your birthday (month and day).
Write down three events, two births, one holiday and tag five friends.
There are five slots in the Birthday Meme. As you are tagged, you have to remove the name in the first slot and bump everyone up so that your name can be added to the bottom.
Three Events That Occurred on My Birthday
217 - Roman Emperor Caracalla is assassinated (and succeeded) by his Praetorian Guard prefect, Marcus Opellius Macrinus.
1820 - The Venus de Milo is discovered on the Aegean island of Melos.
2005 - Funeral of Pope John Paul II.
Two People Who Share My Birthday
1962 - Izzy Stradlin, American musician (Guns N' Roses).
1963 - Julian Lennon, English musician and singer (and God's own first-born son).
One Holiday Celebrated on My Birthday
Buddha's Birthday, the birthday of the Gautama Buddha. Traditionally celebrated in East Asia on the eighth day of the fourth month in the Chinese lunar calendar, is an official holiday in Hong Kong, Macau, and South Korea. The date varies from year to year in the Western (Gregorian) calendar.
Five People I'm Tagging
1. The Tomahawk Kid
2. Big Rab
3. Erica
4. Colin
5. Sho
Previous Participants
1 This is a miracle
2 Mariuca
3 Mike
4 Tish
5 Groanin' Jock
Here are the rules:
Go to Wikipedia and type in your birthday (month and day).
Write down three events, two births, one holiday and tag five friends.
There are five slots in the Birthday Meme. As you are tagged, you have to remove the name in the first slot and bump everyone up so that your name can be added to the bottom.
Three Events That Occurred on My Birthday
217 - Roman Emperor Caracalla is assassinated (and succeeded) by his Praetorian Guard prefect, Marcus Opellius Macrinus.
1820 - The Venus de Milo is discovered on the Aegean island of Melos.
2005 - Funeral of Pope John Paul II.
Two People Who Share My Birthday
1962 - Izzy Stradlin, American musician (Guns N' Roses).
1963 - Julian Lennon, English musician and singer (and God's own first-born son).
One Holiday Celebrated on My Birthday
Buddha's Birthday, the birthday of the Gautama Buddha. Traditionally celebrated in East Asia on the eighth day of the fourth month in the Chinese lunar calendar, is an official holiday in Hong Kong, Macau, and South Korea. The date varies from year to year in the Western (Gregorian) calendar.
Five People I'm Tagging
1. The Tomahawk Kid
2. Big Rab
3. Erica
4. Colin
5. Sho
Previous Participants
1 This is a miracle
2 Mariuca
3 Mike
4 Tish
5 Groanin' Jock
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Monster Bob
Yesterday was Mrs Wife's birthday, so we headed to Montrose's very own Australian-themed restaurant, Roo's Leap, for a celebratory meal.
Roo's is one of my favourite restaurants. The food is always fantastic, and the portions are (big) man-sized.
My usual choice from the Roo's Leap menu is a gargantuan creation called a Monster Bob. The Monster Bob is the emperor of all burgers - two quarter-pound burgers smothered in cheese, bacon, onions and chilli, with a side serving of coleslaw and chips.
Quite simply, the Monster Bob is a burger without equal. In my late teens I was able to clear my plate, but on my three most recent visit to Roo's Leap, I have been struggling.
So I think, as with any sport, I'll just have to practise that little bit harder....
Roo's is one of my favourite restaurants. The food is always fantastic, and the portions are (big) man-sized.
My usual choice from the Roo's Leap menu is a gargantuan creation called a Monster Bob. The Monster Bob is the emperor of all burgers - two quarter-pound burgers smothered in cheese, bacon, onions and chilli, with a side serving of coleslaw and chips.
Quite simply, the Monster Bob is a burger without equal. In my late teens I was able to clear my plate, but on my three most recent visit to Roo's Leap, I have been struggling.
So I think, as with any sport, I'll just have to practise that little bit harder....
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Birthday Boy
Seems I'm just a big kid in everyone else's eyes - for my birthday I received two He Man and The Masters of The Universe boxed sets, PlayStation games and Easter eggs.
Not that I'm complaining, just saying.....
Not that I'm complaining, just saying.....
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