Munter

Its my favorite word at the moment.

Munter: Disagreeable. Often ugly. Person with no style. Visually and perhaps mentally inferior to your current state. Possibly grubby. Possibly wasted or drunk. For wasted, see munted below. Source currently unknown.

Example use: Look at that munter!..."

Munted: A state of muntedness. Can self describe without the derogatory meanings ascribed to others. Drunk, stoned, wired, wasted; Munted.

Example use: That night in Ibiza I was well munted!

A quick google will show that Munter is an old surname dating from Kent (A county in England) circa 17th century. Kent is not considered the best place to hail from though there are worse. Try Walsall for instance the part origin of your author.

It is possible though that Kent could be its origin as Kent is also where (I believe) the word 'Chav' was coined to describe some of its more socially challenged inhabitants. See this site and watch the videos for the idea...Chavscum.

Tired Me

Crikey!. Another feature packed weekend has left me looking forward to a good long sleep tonight.


Rollerblading Road Ride

On Friday night I thought I'd try something a little different for a change. So instead of piling into the nearest bar I popped to shop on Friday lunchtime and bought myself a pair of shiny rollerblades. On Friday evening assisted by my good friend the Duke I assembled, if one person can 'assemble' on Park Lane by Hyde Park for an organised Friday night skate. There was about 100 people. Most of whom where obviously accomplished skaters, and one chap riding a recumbent bicycle with a very large pair of speakers strapped to the back and an amp in a trailer.

At the stroke of 8 o clock the skate marshals who were wearing safety first fluorescent jackets piled into park lane and stopped the traffic. We took to the roads like a Tour De France peleton. Only with more wheels per person obviously.

I'd chosen a bit of an extreme event for a first time skate outing as this was a 3 hour epic 20 mile hack through central London.

It was fun and at times it was fast. It was also quite scary, particularly on the downhills. The traffic didn't like it as we took over the roads but the tunes were banging out of the cycle stereo and at the end, happy but knackared The Duke, a friend of his and myself found a nice boat moored in St Katherines Dock and relaxed with a well earned beer.

I had only wiped out once. At speed. Skating backwards on the pavement over Tower Bridge. No damage was done, I just rolled spectacularly along the concrete and got straight back up. I'll pretend it was a stunt fall.

So, all in all, I am quite pleased to report that my early mid life crisis is progressing from strength to strength.

Next week: Base Jumping.

Saturday

A quiet one with Slinx and a DVD evening.

Sunday

A trip to Cambridge was quite nice but I have to report that for an ancient town, and one that is packed to the gills with students, it is very very short of pubs. Though I did note that it has a healthy population of wasps. It was an early night in preparation for a big bank holiday Monday.

I did buy a T Shirt though. I'm not normally one for witty slogans but I liked this one. It says.

I can only please one person a day
Today is not your day
Tomorrow is not looking good either

Thames Boat Trip

Some friends had organised a river booze cruise from Surbiton. We had to be there at 10AM and picked up a boat that fitted 12 people. This was good as there was 11 of us. As soon as we were aboard we cracked into the beers and this was to be the theme of the day. We cruised up river past Hampton Court and it was a little like being on holiday. If you get the chance to do something like this I recommend it. The homes on the river banks are often stunning and there are a lot of houseboats that look like great places to live. Especially I would imagine in the summer, should we ever have one.

We stopped at pubs and pootled about. A lot was drunk and we delivered the boat back at 6PM before weaving home.

All in all it was a top flight wheeled and ruddered social smorgasboard.

Hence my tiredness.

The Good Times Are Back

Friday

Saw me with the car. This was intentional as I hadn't planned to go out. In the end I did but due to my rattling car keys was responsible to the point of vicardom. Ended up in the Bunker Bar in Covent Garden. We liked it here. Good beer brewed on the premises, funky music and quite funky clientele. A new haunt I think.

The reason that I had bought the car to work on a Friday is that Saturday was going to be a big event day out and I knew that my will power alone would not necessarily get me home at a time suitable for an early start come the morn. In the end I made it in with time for bed.

South West Four, Clapham Common

Its an innocuous sounding title that isn't it? It sounds like a postcode. It is. It could be the name of a rubbish boy band or perhaps a bus company? What it doesn't sound like is an afternoon party in the park with 10,000 people. A main stage playing host to world famous DJ's Sasha and Erick Morillo amongst others. A tent stage of uplifting house music from the infamous Bora Bora beach bar in Ibiza and another tent of harder stuff. In short it was a serious party fest.

The weather has been crap this summer. It has rained nearly every day and I was dreading the rain for this day. Luckily it held off and for most of the time the party was in sunshine. We danced and partied hard through till close at 10PM and I can't remember such an enjoyable day. There were some sights to be seen. Most noticeably the smiles everyone had. I didn't see a policeman in sight nor any trouble but I'm sure the unlicensed pharmacies had done a roaring trade.

Day time clubbing is the way of the future. It might sound not quite right but to be getting up on Sunday morning around 10 rather than getting home on Sunday morning after a night out at around 10 makes a big difference to the rest of your weekend. And what's left of your physical state.

It wasn't like the England I know. I hope its on again next year!

Other News

Rain, rain, rain, rain and more rain. I'm a busy lad. I don't have that many gaps in my time and keeping on top of the garden is always tricky. The problem this summer has been that every time I have a gap it chucks it down. Its been so bad that water cress that was growing in the pond has migrated 20 yards to the veg patch. Its handy to pick I grant you but If I wanted a watercress farm I'd hardly have planted tomatoes, runner beans and gladiolus. Would I?

I got burgled this time last year. It sparked me into writing this blog. Its my anniversary then. Cards and gifts please.

Wasps and the Leaflet

Good Mooorning Vietnaaaam!

Oh *ahem* sorry. Wrong script and I don't have a hairy enough back.

Waspish Wasps

What is it about these creatures? They really are the football thug of the insect world aren't they. They share the same intelligence are just as randomly aggressive and if they could, I bet they would wear Burburry caps, chav like jewelery and have their knuckles (if they had hands) dragging along the metaphorical ground.

Even The Duke has been victim. At the weekend he was on a fact finding mission to Cambridge. Whilst taking a breather he phoned me up and laughed at me for saying how the bloody wasps were making my garden time a nightmare.

He soon stopped laughing however as unbenowns to him, whilst he had been enjoying mirth at my expense, a couple of the aforementioned yellow and black troglodytes has slipped into his cool can of beer.

Oh yes. I said "Told you it was no laughing matter" as he later hove into view with a face reminiscent of John Merrick due to stings on the inside of his lips.

A state of emergency

It was with great excitement that I received the booklet from our beloved government entitled "Preparing For Emergencies, What you need to know". I nearly missed it completely as it was shoved through my door along with double glazing leaflets, pizza delivery menu's and stanahh stairlift adverts but I digress. I also tell lies, as there ware actually no pizza delivery leaflet. That's just one of my fantasies. Can you believe that I live somewhere within 40 minutes of the very center of London (on a good day driving very fast) and no one will deliver pizza to my door. Its no wonder I'm not eating at night properly...

Where was I? Oh yes. The "Preparing For Emergencies" booklet. I am afraid I must report that it does no such thing. There is no sections entitled.

"Its a week before pay day and you really need a big night out, ring this number and we will give you the money"

or.

"The girl / boy I love doesn't fancy me"

or even (for some)

"Which shade of blond is the right blond for me, right now"

In fact as an emergency handbook it ranks in usefulness terms along with 'Where's my kippers' a story of a lost Scottish fisherman's struggle to cope with divorce on Shetland, and 'Lassie'.

You will get one to, you will see. The really hilarious thing about it are the photographs of the people that are responsible for reassuring you / us / me that all will be fine providing we stay in doors, watch the telly and wait for them to sort it all out, The lady at the top is named "Debbie Spargo" and she is the "Chief Executive of the emergency Planning Society"

Take a look you will see what I mean. She looks like she would be well at home in the WI meeting of Frinton on Sea. She doesn't look anything like the person I want in a crisis. She doesn't for instance look anything like Bruce Willis in Die Hard or any James Bond, nor even steely like the retired Paddy Ashdown. In short I want some grit and determination.. not a nice cup of tea. And I love the fact that she obviously musn't be calledd 'Deborah' lest we think shes a bit up market. Ahh the joys of writing something to appeal to everyone. Dammed impossible if you ask me. Oh you didn't?

I think what I don't like much about our current administration.. (oooh did I say administration? Sorry *cough* government. They think we wont notice anything if we all have a nice cup of tea down at the WI and stay in.

I think I'll keep going out and looking around ta.

Other News

My cat seems to be worried I may not be eating enough and for the past few weeks been trying to feed me mice, at night, usually at around 3 AM. He shouts in cat voice "look what I have for you". Its not nice, he keeps getting blood on the sheets.

Even worse I returned home recently after a heavy night out to find that he had, with precision, dropped a mouse into a glass of water by my bed. It had obviously drowned there unable to climb out. Nice!

Going to this this weekend.. \o/

South West Four

The Apple Tree

Cycling to work one day last week I was just crossing the tow path from the Lea River to change over to the metropolitan canal which would then take me on through Victoria Park in Hackney.

I was in an industrial estate in Bow where the waterways (strangely enough) look at their most industrial. As I crossed the bridge over and threaded my bike through the gates to then continue down the slope back onto the other towpath I noticed the tree. In fact I passed under it as you have to there. I had passed under it before of course but this time, for some reason I looked up.

There, a good 8 feet above me was an apple. I stopped for a minute and pondered, and looked again. It was still there. So I thought, here, at the top of a canal bridge in the middle of an industrial estate is an apple tree. I wonder how old it is? It certainly looks old. 100 years? More?

When I have time I will look into this and find out the story of the old apple orchards of Bow.

Circle Line Tube Party

On Friday afternoon at about 4PM someone emailed me this link..

The Cirle Line Tube Party

Its different now as it says "You missed it".

In short it was invite to a spontaneous party to be held on the last 4 carriages of the 8.04 circle line east bound underground train from Liverpool Street. We were urged to bring drinks and sweets and our best smiles.

The Duke and I turned up on the spur of the moment and the whole of the platform at Liverpool street station was crammed full of people waiting for the off. The allotted train pulled in and we clambered aboard and as soon as the train pulled away it went wild. There were musicians, sound systems, streamers and crazy people as far as the eye could see. Which incidentally wasn’t very far as in fact the shout had gone up perhaps a little early and there were so many people it wasn't really practical. It was also sauna time. Despite this is was quite good fun. At each stop we tried to be quietish as bemused London Underground staff and indeed bemused ordinary passages looked confused. The train kept lurching on in a cacophony of banging, strumming, laughing and pole dancing.

We made it as far as Sloane Square. There were to many people really and I suppose they didn’t know what to do with us. Apparently the train behind was also crammed with spontaneous party goers, and the one behind that. When it bacame clear that we would be getting no further we all slowly trooped with glittery strings in hands out of the station to Sloane Square itself. And there, everyone had a party.

There was music and dancing and it was great fun. It went on a bit late. We then somehow ended up at a carry on in a park near Spitalfields and even later I bizarrely ended up on a sofa in Victoria.

I do have photos of all this weirdness. Part of me wonders if it was really appropriate behaviour for a gardener like me but I think it needed doing.

The Weekend

Its finally been proper summer for a few day or so and its been scorching over the weekend. I haven’t done very much. As you may imagine Saturday was something of a write off and if the Japanese, or any one else for that matter had decided to invade at that point I wouldn’t have offered strong resistance.

Sunday however was more civilized with a stroll and a contemplate along the South Bank. I was armed with a Sunday Times and fortified with a couple of beers. In between all this I watered the garden and worked on my tan.

I have been pondering my purpose lately. It's a tricky one. The possibility is beginning to occur that I might not actually have one. This is not entirely comfortable, as my ego being what it is, I have always assumed I did.

I'll keep you posted.

TG

The Apple Tree

Oooh, I meant to write about the apple tree last night. In all the excitement I forgot. I shall try to in the next post. This might not be until the weekend though.

We shall see.

A Suitably British Event

Sunday saw a visit to some corner of London Docklands to watch the London Triathlon. I wouldn’t normally do such a thing but it was a nice day and The Duke was taking part. Cripes! I never realised he was fit, though I had noticed he doesn’t smoke that often. He fairly shot round the course. First the swim which saw hundreds of chaps bobbing about in the docks for a while before they thrashed off for a mile and a half. Spectating this part wasn't to exciting as they can't hear you and you don't know who is who as all competitors wore the same blue hats. We cheered all the same.

Then the 40 kilometre bike race. This was the reason I was there really. He was using my bike as his bike was built by hand in a barn in 1945 to celebrate the end of the second world war. I think it was built from fossilised baguettes in France by a soldier with one eye and the last time he took it out the front wheel amusingly fell off (as did he) at traffic lights. My bike on the other hand, actually works.

Most of the field were professional / serious type athletes. This didn’t deter the man himself though oh no! We saw him go past, legs flailing and elbows at regulation postman height as he didn’t dare change gear as the last time he had tried that on his bike the handlebars broke. It was all very British. Not to much sweat and get there in your own time. Even better he spurned expensive kit and for this part of the race wore a very visible pair of black Calvin Klien underpants over his shorts to stop any "flapping about" as he put it. He said later that a very fit and attractive female triathlete had slowed down slightly to give him a playful smack on his arse whilst shouting "Come on Calvin". Knowing him I bet he managed to get her number before she disappeared into the distance. All very excellently Chumly Warner.

Then they all had to run 10 kilometers. A kilometer I am informed is a little less than a mile but faster in a continental way. The Duke was in his element in this part and breezed around.

We. For there was indeed a "Team Duke" saw him come in past the crowds at the finish. We thought it was only fitting that he crossed the line grinning and puffing on a large cigar.

He romped home a very credible 273rd out of 306 competitors in a shade over 3 hours and 15 minutes.. Well done that Duke!

Team Duke and the support team then retired to the pub.

I might try it myself next year. You never know.

Spurred on by this I again cycled into work and back today. I'm starting training early.