Things

Watched Room 101 on friday, it were quite good. That square-headed comedy dude Marcus Brigstocke put in Lynne Truss and "grammar bullies" (quite right too), it made me want to compile my own list of irksome things. Not terribly original, I know, but at least it keeps me busy. And I like lists. Without further mucking about, here are a few of my least favourite things:

Stag weekends
Golf
Party games
Squash ladders
Arrogant Australians
The Daily Mail
Jeremy Clarkson
Fancy dress
Campaigning cyclists with 'one less car' t-shirts
People who tell you when your face has gone red
Alex Ferguson
Weird, icky marzipan
Oxford United
Dirty, expensive London
PlayStations and all games consoles
Football managers who moan about referees
Ryanair

Oh, I have so much more to give than that. This isn't the end of it, believe me.

Stags

Today's rant: why are stag dos so over the top these days? Time was (admittedly not in my time) when a few beers down the pub, followed by something suitably embarrassing involving dressing up / stripping / dodgy nightclubs would suffice. Now people want a whole weekend, usually abroad, with water sports, karting, shooting and all manner of expensive shenaniganery on top. I've been invited on one today and I really I want to go to see the ol' blighter off in style, but I just can't afford it (Berlin, flights, hotel, nightclubs etc). Ho hum.

If I ever get married, my stag do would look something like this:
(all times subject to change)
12.00 pm: meet at the Swan for initial round of Guinness, whisky and singing
2.00: epic game of football with the Street and mates on Sandy Lane
4.00: epic rendition of Hail Hail in the Lane showers
4.30: retire to the Swan to see how the Town got on
5.00: pub snacks (cheese, bits of lukewarm pie) provided by Dick
6.00: more Guinness, whisky and maybe even some Limoncello
7.00: pizza and tiramisu
8.00: get the badger costumes, banjos, guitars, harmonicas, triangles, maracas and child drum kits out
9.00: sing, shout, dance, boogie
10.00: amusing round of drunken speeches
11.00: maybe get that rough stripper from Martin's 50th to do her, err, bit
12.00 am: run down Cowley Road in badger costumers, jumping on nearest available post box
2.00: epic group-performance of Golden Slumbers involving aforementioned instruments
3.00: stumble down the high street, frightening students with ferocious singing and badger impersonations
3.30: arrange traffic cones in amusing shape on Carfax
4.00: pass out in neighbour's garden, cheesy chips on lap, very drunk and very happy.

What more could you possibly want? Eh?