Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Whupass. Can of. Opened.

I'm feeling a bit weary at the moment. Well, that's the polite way of putting it that preserves a bit of my dignity. 'Sore' is the other way.

I went to Badminton on Friday evening (just because I couldn't face another Friday post-work trip to the cinema after the train-wreck that was Shrek the Turd), and was kind of expecting a reasonably nice, somewhat sedate evening of genteel play and witty banter. But no, because in my absence of about six weeks the others only went and assimilated another club, and now we've got shitloads of new people whose weaknesses I don't know. After a little "humphing" and rolling of eyes (in a decidedly emo-esque fashion) I played a match and soundly whupped the opposing team. This might not be so bad, I thought. But then:

Oh sweet lord of all that is good and honest - we appear to have been infiltrated by two freaking pros! A father and son tag-team, no less. I knew we were in trouble when they started assuming scary looking pre-arranged postures as they prepared to receive serve (it was like something out of Karate Kid), and then literally smashed *every* shot while I smacked myself in the leg with my racquet (I have a scab to prove it) and made various witty comments; at least they couldn't fight back on that front – ha, losers!

As the evening wore on I did start to figure out their strengths and weaknesses, which bodes well for this Friday (crazy foo' that I am, I promised to go again), and I almost whacked the shuttle into the son's head, so that was a well-aimed bonus that sadly didn't win me the game.

Saturday, then, I felt *really* worn out, but in that nice way where you feel like you've done some exercise but it kind of hurts a bit when you, well, try to move in any way, shape, or form. That being the case, you'd think I would've learnt my lesson. Sadly not.

Sunday afternoon I decided to go out for a bike ride. A usual bike ride for me takes about an hour and a half. I went out for well over two hours. Lord almighty I felt it when I got home; seriously, I went all radio-controlled and zombie-like. I got a text from Yaz about five minutes after I got back that said something like "hey how's your weekend?" and my reply was something like "yeah, blue." I was completely out of it. And to make matters worse, I had a sneezing fit as I was getting in the shower and I was all "Ow! my aching abs!"

I'm still feeling it a bit now, but I'm totally going out for a run in a while.



I saw something amazing at lunchtime. It was a family of chavs. Well, I say family - it was actually just the male members; a shaven-headed middle-aged bloke, a shaven-headed teenager, and a shaven-headed little kid. They were like chav versions of those Russian dolls - and I don't mean Communist Barbie and Perestroika Ken - y'know, those ones that go inside each other - Matryoshka dolls! I would've asked if I could've taken a photo, but chances are they would've kneed me in the groin and taken my phone.


Tara said...

I have some of those dolls, but never knew the actual name for them! I just called them Russian dolls. Makes you wonder if that family even had a mother..Maybe someone just took the guy apart, then first found the teenager, then found the little kid. Weird.

Good luck with the next badminton match, and beat the father/son team soundly.

Tim said...

Ha ha - neither did I - I had to google it!! I thought they were called babooska dolls, then I remembered that was a Kate Bush song.

Thanks for the vote of support - although I might have to throw my racquet at those two next time. "Oops - it slipped!" Heh heh…

Inexplicable DeVice said...

I wonder about you Timothy... A well aimed 'cock in the face?!

I'm sure it's perfectly innocent. Isn't it?

I never got along with Perestroika Ken - His cap was too big and I didn't like his economic reforms...

Tim said...

Filth. *Just* filth. I can't say anything these days without someone twisting it - and you're the worst!

*rolls eyes*


You might not've (is that even an abbreviation?) liked Perestroika Ken, but Communist Barbie was a bitch. She wouldn't let any of the other dolls into her Kremlin playset, especially not Chechyna Cindy.

T-Bird said...

Chernobyl Cherry was always a sure fire way to clear the doll house.

Also, you are entirely too healthy. Almost like Craig from A Night at the Roxbury!

Inexplicable DeVice said...

* scoops up Tim's rolled eyes from underneath monitor and graciously hands them back *

::indignantly:: I haven't twisted anything - you haven't let me touch it, yet!

Oh Gods! WV is on to me! It's: amhoe

missy&chrissy said...

i've never read a more exciting recap of a badminton game!

i think you should go as 'perestroika ken' when on the badminton court (court? field?) -- that nickname could strike fear in the hearts of your opponents!

Tim said...

T-Bird - I think we should put together a whole range of USSR action figures!

I'm not familiar with Craig from A Night at the Roxbury, so I don't know whether you're taking the piss or not. Are you taking the piss?!?!

Inexplicable Device - Thanks.

*pops eyes back in*

Again with the filth! And I don't know what you're taking about!!

WV *knows* the truth.

Missy&Chrissy - I should broadcast my badminton on the tinternet, but then that would be embarrassing because I was whupped. I think I will go all perestoika tomorrow night. My economic reforms will rule the court!