Tag Archives: barbeque

Some shit about barbeques, or something

I completely forgot to do any kind of blog yesterday, meaning I have to do two today. Problem is, I have absolutely no idea whatsoever what to write about. As such, I’m going to blab on about nothing in particular for this first of today’s entries in order to simply fill some space and pass the time. Cynical? Moi? Perish the thought.

At least I’m up front with you about what I’m doing here.

Went to a barbeque yesterday for a workmate’s birthday – first one I’ve been to this year. Fun times, lots of booze, I betrayed how drunk I really was on many occasions by suddenly losing the ability to Use My Words halfway through a sentence (I found it particularly difficult to say “pure testosterone”) and I did drop my glasses in the toilet. Pre-flush.

Hot water cures all.

I used to have barbeques all the time at my little basement flat in Leeds, it was really good fun. Start having them about, oh – February? And just use them as an excuse to get people (and girls – they’re not people, remember) round to my ‘pad’, as I never called it, for burnt meat, booze and my choice of music.

Then when it gets late and I’m tired and cranky I would just demand everyone pissed off and go to bed. Great days.

I’d probably get evicted for having a barbeque here. Either that or my awful housemates would have to join in, and they’re awful. Or they’d whine. Plus it would mean people would have to see my pokey little shithole of a flat that seriously needs a proper tidying (I can’t be bothered/am not capable).

Yeah, whatever. I’ll try and think of something real to blather on about for the second blog.

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It’s officially barbeque season! I say this in full knowledge that many of you have already been to BBQs this year; fully taking advantage of that one sunny day we had two months ago. But I’ve called it now, and we all know I am the Master of Ceremonies when it comes to barbequeing, so shove that in your pipe, naysayers.

Anyway, what this means is we can now look forward to the slightest hint of sunshine being greeted with a mass flocking to the nearest supermarket to fleece the poor blighters of all their meat and assorted snack products. At least I’m fairly safe this time around, unlike in Leeds where the nearest Co-op was frequented by 90 per cent students, thus meaning everyone who shopped there had the same idea. And there were never enough burgers. No, this time around I’m in a half-real place with half-real people, so the mad meat rush shouldn’t be as frenzied.

Anyway, today is my first barbeque of the year. I say this and I don’t actually know for a fact if there is to be a barbeque at the party I’m off to. I’ve seen the word used somewhere at some point and I’ve just assumed the best, so off to Morrison’s (yes, I’m in the north) to buy a selection of crappy meats to shove in shitty baps.

Haha: “shitty baps”.

I will likely not report back with the success or failure of this barbeque mission, as I likely want to forget this entry ever existed. It has been written under severe duress as I prepare to leave the house for the day: something I never like doing. Wish me luck, children. (I’ve made myself hungry writing this)

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