Friday 08 June 2012

Many of the American TV shows I watch have just finished a season/series. Or finish soon. This generally means some kind of conclusion and closure to existing storylines and maybe a revelation or two, generally as part of some cliffhanger to make sure everyone tunes in to the start of the new series. I have contemplated doing a series finale blog in a hilariously post-modern pastiche style. Only my life, and thus this blog, has no storyline. Moreover it has no characters for the reader to care about – and very little merit or interest to its content.

Also the next one would be the day after. Hardly the summer spent wondering who shot JR (or eternity wondering what Lost was about).

Maybe I can use Thursday’s blog to do this now I think about it as I’ll be doing the catching-up-on-a-few-blogs at once when I get back from the stag weekend in Munich. Should I be detailing the events of the trip? ‘What goes on tour stays on tour’ is the saying and perhaps the only reason there is any intrigue about what goes on (on tour). Were it not for that phrase there would be little intrigue and the correct assumption that there is nothing to tell. Now everything everyone does is on Facebook anyway, so people can see the seedy truth: people spending money to go and get drunk somewhere in Europe where one of the party, normally the one lacking the imagination to remain unmarried*, will be pictured in a mankini or women’s clothes.

And I already did detail the events of a stag do last year anyway so it’s not even an issue. Why are we still talking about this?

*Apologies to all my married friends, I respect the sanctity of all your marriages, honest, it’s just all the others I am disparaging.

Hero

There is little doubt who my childhood hero was. Bryan Robson. No doubt.

So, when I read on Twitter tonight that he would be doing an autograph and photos session at Salford Quays I instantly wanted to go. I’ve never met him you see. My uncle got me his autograph when I was about 9. And the other year he walked past me near Old Trafford but I was enjoying a can of lager too much to even shout ‘Robbo!’ imaginatively at him. (It was the day we got hammered 4-1 by Liverpool trivia fans.)

But I consulted a couple of people, keen as ever to accept that my own thoughts and feelings were incorrect. There was a mixed response. Ultimately, though it seems like the Facebook profile picture of my dreams, it’s not (the Facebook profile picture of my dreams). The picture I want is of the 10-year-old me in a full United kit with Robson stood at the side of me – not a haggard looking man who drinks too much…..stood next to Bryan Robson. Sorry, that’s a great gag from me. Fuck it, can’t even be arsed with the rest of the blog that gag is so good (and it’s not that I nothing else to say). Whatevz

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