Saturday, January 14, 2006

A Day in the UK

I'm back home in England and so thought I'd share with you what I plan to do today.

Saturday, January 14th, 2006

9am: Turn on the telly and watch all three Sky Sports channels while drinking unlimited amounts of tea. Follow this up with a full English breakfast consisting of two cumberland sausages, two rashers of bacons, two eggs and a slice of toast. Oh, and a glass of orange juice as this makes it all healthy.

10.30am: Go straight to Coop and buy any six pack of beer (get two free) that's over 3.5% abv. Because I can.

10.35am: Go to the Coach and Horse pub in Whitstable High Street. There I'll meet a guy called Jeff sitting at the bar and we'll have a conversation that goes exactly like this:

Jeff: (in a chirpy cheerful voice) Hullo Darren! Haven't seen you for ages!

Me: That's because I've lived in Sweden for the past five years Jeff.

Jeff: Well bugger me sideways. Still, the weather must be quite cold up there I should think.

Me: You're quite right Jeff. It's bloody cold, and will stay that way until May.

Jeff: Ruddy hell. Rather you than me old boy. Still, I suppose the fact that there must be lots of blonde-haired, blue-eyed Swedish girls with big tits running around asking you for sex all the time more than makes up for a bit of cold weather, what!

Me: Actually Jeff, that's something of a stereotypical myth. The reality is that not all Swedish women are blonde and big busted, and very few of them have ever asked me for sex. In fact, even if they were to ask me I'd turn them down immediately, as I'm very happily married to my beautiful wife who occassionally reads this blog.

Jeff: This What?

Me: Nothing Jeff. Would you like some pork scratchings?

3pm: Go back home and watch Match of the Day with an extremely cheap wine box.

7.30pm: Pop into the East Kent pub on Whitstable High Street for a quick pint.

11.30pm: Stagger out of the East Kent after several quick pints and head to the Donar Grill Kebab shop for a sweaty lamb handbag.

11.45pm: Drop into the 24 hour Tesco supermarket on the way home to buy another six-pack of beer over 3.5%. Because I can.

12.15am: Lie on sofa and wash down a couple of elephant-strength paracetemol with three pints of water.

12.17am: Turn on the telly and start watching re-runs of the A-team on the Bravo channel. Fall asleep with my head at an alarming angle.


At 6:56 pm, Anonymous Sofia said...

This blog is hilarious! You write so well and your observations are spot on. The idea of writing a book is great, do it! From someone who was born and bred in Lagom-land, but have ended up in Nowhere-near-lagom-land and misses her peculiar Swedish roots sometimes. Thanks for a great read! :o)


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