Date Archives: Monday August 2nd 2004

Today I had to make a quick visit to the dentist for some patch up work on my rickety molars. I wasn’t best pleased, because when I usually call to make an appointment they say “we’re fully booked – it’ll be a good two or three weeks…” and that’s fine by me. Gives me time to psyche myself up and get used to the idea.

But when I called in the morning they said “sure… quarter past three today okay?” and like a startled rabbit with toothache I agreed.

Anyhow, I park the car in car park of the Richmond pub in Allerton, and I’m walking up the high street to the dentist. It’s pretty sunny at this point, very warm and humid, kind of thing, and I’ve got my shades on. About 20 yards away I see this pair of legs, and I’m like… wow… that’s a nice pair of legs, so I follow them upwardly to see a face I recognised.

No way I said to myself… that is so not Ali Bastian from Hollyoaks!

And as she got closer… yes way!

Now, I’m kind of a fan of hers – I think she’s pretty hot and all that, but she’s as good an actress as they have on the show. Admittedly that’s not saying much, but she has been pretty decent over the two or three yeas she’s been in the show, so credit where it’s due and all that. And did I mention she’s hot?

The cool thing is, I have my shades on – so I risk looking right at her just to make perfectly sure it is her. But holey crap, she catches me looking almost instantly and looks right at me. By this time we’re only about five yards apart, so I just went with it and said “Hi, are you Ali Bastian?”

“Yes” she smiled, seeming surprised that I’d recognised her. So much so that she actually stops walking and stands there.

“Wow… I cant believe that I’d just recognise you in the street.” I blurted.

Rachel and Andy’s Hen / Stag night took place on Saturday night just gone. No sooner had Fliss and I arrived in York, than Andy was driving me and a couple of his friends into the maze of the town center to begin the evening’s festivities.

After ditching the car we walked for an asbolute age before settling into what must have beent he most expensive pub in York. Still, no matter, the beer flowed as fast as the constant stream of hen night attendees through the front door. What is it with that place? Is there some kind of mass proposal thing that takes place each year in York?

There were loads of them – mutton dressed as lamb, for the most part, in all shapes and sizes. Mostly large sizes, to our horror.

As the night wore on the girls met up with the guys at some pokey pub somewhere in the town center, a bit of a break from tradition, but Andy and Rachel are hardly the most traditional couple – and that’s the way I like them!

From then on the rest of the night for me is pretty much a blur. It did include the bizarre and exceptional occurrence of Fliss taking me to get a kebab to try and soak up the drink. Sadly I was a bit too drunk to appreciate the uniqueness of the situation at the time (Fliss hates me buying kebabs – something about them being unhealthy), but not so drunk that the kebab came straight back up, which is always a bonus.

Anyhow, I got lashed to the extent that I spent all of Sunday paying for my endeavors – it was five in the evening before I felt well enough to drive home, and when did get back I spent the rest of the evening watching the Indy Racing and sipping water.

Mental note: take it easy at the wedding on Friday.

With our vacuum cleaner recently making good its departure to the great vacuum cleaner skip in the sky, Fliss and I went out in search of a new one at the weekend there.

Fliss wanted a Dyson, naturally, the creme de la suck of vacuum cleaners and the bane of the once mighty Hoover. I, however, didn’t want to shell over ?200 on something that Fliss would probably thrash into the ground within a year, so there was a bit of give and take to be had.

The “give” was a reasonable ?195 for a Dyson DC07, the “take” part of the deal was my very own kick–ass, chrome–panelled, undisputed power house of the four–slot bread browning arena — the Tefal Avanti Deluxe 4 Slice!!11!

Now, for some reason, I’ve always wanted a four slice toaster. I don’t know why, to be honest, but to me a four slice toaster just says “No… I’m makin’ breakfast” with authority that a two slice toaster couldn’t even dream of. You know what I’m saying? Like, a grill… not happening – the chances of it being clean in the first place are slim, so your toast ends up all flavoured with some shitty burger you made a month ago. And then you have to turn it over mid way through the toasting process, which is just a chore we can do without in this day and age.