My efforts at playing badminton recently have, I'll be honest, been decidedly lacklustre compaired to my badminton-ing prime of, say, five or six (maybe more) years ago. I'm putting it down to a combination of things:
• I've been doing free-weights about three or four times a week, and I think - surprise, surprise! - I've actually built up some muscle. Years ago I had just about the right amount of strength to whack the shuttlecock and send it literally to the back line of the court. Now if I whack it it sails out of the court and bangs into the back wall. Oops.
• I always used to keep track of the score, regardless of whether anyone else was, because some of the people I play with are (looks both ways, whispers) a little fruity with the truth. But recently I've fallen behind with my ability to do this, and usually end up standing in the middle of the court saying "duuuuuh, wots der score?"
• My knee. Yeah, I know I've gone on about this before, but it's annoying, and it makes it difficult for me to scurry around the court like the racquet-wielding weasel of old.
• Being able to hit the shuttlecock with any degree of accuracy. I used to be able to send the shuttle anywhere I wanted with little effort - the back corner, just over the net, someone's groin. It was easy.
So as much as I've enjoyed going back to the old club over the last few months, I sort of felt like a highly-regarded rock star making a big, high-profile comeback, only to get on stage to find he can't sing anymore. Rather like Bob Dylan, or so I've read.
That is until last night!
Admittedly I started off all spacker-tastic, but after finishing the first game I realised that there was, by that time, six of us - and there was a spare court. So I dutifully announced that I was sitting out the next game of doubles, grabbed the guy who I enjoy playing against most, and dragged him onto the other court. We didn't play a game, just knocked it amount a bit, but it gave me the opportunity to better judge the size of the court, get used to moving about a bit and finding my knee-based limitations, and working out how hard I should hit the shuttle, which was just what I needed.
Then, after the next game finished I announced that I'd sit out again - and this time grabbed the son of one of our players who is a wily little devil at badminton in his own right. "Watch him," I was warned.
We played a game, and I won 15-10. Close.
So then we played another game, and I won again. 15-01.
And then I turned to the other players, held my arms out wide, and said "bitches - I'm back, who wants me?"
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I'm reading an awesome book at the moment. And by book, I mean a proper paperback novel; I realised that I've read sooooooooo many graphic novels recently that I actually kinda needed to read a book with words all over the page, and not just scattered around in little bubbles.
So the book I'm reading is called The Average American Male, and it's all about some dude shagging his way around L.A. It's really good, and very funny, although maybe not if you're a girl, because it's written in the first person and kinda really delves into the male psyche, which is pretty much all "ooo, ooo, she's hot," and "ooo, ooo, I'd do her." In the first 25 pages the main character eyes up a girl on a plane, cheats on his girlfriend at a party, and has dirty thoughts about Marie Osmond.
Perhaps the only downside is that the cover is made of really thin paper, and the book keeps flopping about while I'm trying to hold it open. Unless… unless, perhaps, it's me… Maybe I've forgotten how to read a normal-sized book?
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The most fascinating email of Friday came from someone called Vickie:
Since the ancient times men were trying to enlarge their dicks. Today we created Penis Enlarge Patch especially for you.
With Penis Enlarge Patch all your underwear will be too tight for you.
She's not backwards in coming forwards, is she?
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I need some new trainers. I've worn out my Kingpins because I wear them pretty much every day. (And before anyone raises the point about not buying shoes off t'internet, I know that I take a size 8 in Etnies trainers, so don't worry!)
Thing is I'm not sure which ones to go for. I've seen two pairs I like, which probably means I'll buy both eventually, but in the meantime let's put it to a vote!
Pimpy white or Secret Squirrel camouflage?
YOU DECIDE!
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12 comments:
Personally, I'd go for camo over white, just because it wears better and won't look as dirty.
Plus they look cooler.
Hmmm… I tend to agree. I had a pair of Nike camo trainers that I love, but I use them for sport now.
On the flip-reverse, a pimpy pair of white trainers would go well with a tux.
yeah, but white goes with anything..
Glad you were able to whoop some 10 year old kid's ass in badminton, snaps for Mit! I should really start playing squash again, but I'm just so damned laaaazy...
I miss playing badminton and tennis. The summer is approaching, I should start those up again, just for fun. I have a slight grasp of how to score for tennis but don't even pay attention to scoring for badminton. Is that how to spell it? I'm thinking there's an unnecessary "n" in the middle of that word. Just like the middle "c" in Connecticut.
I like both pairs, so I'm no help at all.
Skillz - I like both. They both have pros and cons, I think. I think I'll probably end up buying both.
I used to play squash, and really liked it. Unfortunately I was playing against some mate's boyfriend, and when they split up I would've felt bad for her that I was still playing with him.
Tara - I'm *rubbish* at tennis. I like playing it, but I can't control the ball to save my life. And yes, that is how you spell it. Crazy spelling, innit? I'd not noticed the extra 'c' in Connecticut before, but now you've pointed it out to me I can't help but think it needs to be removed...
Dinah - You're not indecisive, you just don't know!
Can I say "neither"?
Wow! Look at that! I can!
So: Neither.
But, if you must... The camos.
No, no you can't say 'neither.'
Unless you can come up with a viable alternative!
What the hell's wrong with them!?
Well, the white ones look too small - like baby shoes. And the camo ones look like someone barfed on them.
And they look a bit chavvy. Although it could be that the pictures don't do them justice.
Besides, once they're on your feet, in use - so to speak - how could they not become awesome from your reflected glory.
Mmmmmmmmm... * drools * Reflected glory...
Oh, well when you put it like that…
I'm still torn between the two, though, and with one vote for each, one abstaining, and one 'they're both gross,' I need a casting vote!
Oh, OK then: Camos.
Ker-ching!
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