Stumpy Rider ponders the white trash life whilst playing the single dad for a week
As Arkwright often used to say in the final scene of most episodes of Open All Hours, It’s Been a Funny Sort of Week. Mrs Stumpy has been away on a course at RAF Cranwell so I’ve been in sole charge of the Stumpy development squad. In a cunning twist on the usual Sausage Rollville domestic drama, dad had custody of the weans. This has also meant that my plan to have at least one evening bike ride every week has been thwarted in week 3.
I did, however, get a couple of decent runs in this week, what with – cough – working from home, which is really a euphamism for doing 3 hours work in 3 days. I did also make several trips to the local Morrisons which depressed me thoroughly, and one to the local GP, which depressed me even more. Little Master Stumpy was the patient and, while causing mayhem in the waiting room, still managed to exude more class and dignity than the assembled masses seeking assistance from the NHS. And he was better dressed.
However, while outwardly sneering at what BMFW once called ‘Livvy Man’, I faltered very slightly on the line between dignity and the daytime TV desperation that is Carmondean Centre during working hours. During one of my trips to Morrisons, I purchased… no, wait for it…. A PACKET OF CHEESEY PASTA! I was looking for something less embarrassing, you know like VD cream or a copy of Escort, but it caught my eye and I was instantly pulled in by its enticing retro looks and the promise of some cheap E number whizz.
And, by God, it were grand, even down to the chemically aftertaste. ‘Serves 3′ it said. Bollocks. I had 2/3 of it watching Road to Roubaix last night (served with a hefty side portion of irony) and then ersed the remainder today after my run with BMFW. Paraphrasing Christopher Brookmyre, it’s like laughing at the spazzy bus as a kid – great at the time, but you feel slightly ashamed afterwards. You know the scene from the Crying Game…?
Brought to you by any Barenaked Ladies song you care to mention!
Hats off for making the connection between "Kraft Dinner" (as mentioned in "If I Had $1,000,000") and Cheezy Pasta.
I saw BNL at King Tut's and packets of Cheezy Pasta were being thrown on stage – rock'n'roll indeed.
I'm glad it was only Cheezy Pasta that caught your eye as I am fairly sure that in most Livi supermarkets, Cheezy Pasta is in the same aisle as Methadone & Highland Spring bong water!
Which reminds me of the poetry that is Cypress Hill, "Goes down smooth when I get a clean hit of that skunky, funky smellin' green shit"
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