The unmistakeable stance and attire gave it away. I was being stalked by a ninja. Stealthy – almost feline – movement as he crept towards me, dressed in the trademark tennis shorts, lime-green 2018 Nigeria World Cup top and wellingtons.
POW! THWACK! BAZOOMERS!
Take that ninja! No one messes with Bob.
This is like one of those old public service broadcasts – don’t talk to strangers or cats; don’t ever go swimming; do visit old castles. I guess I am just trying to say be careful. There are ninjas out there. Other threats too like Dick Dastardley, Jamie Oliver and Garth Crooks. Please. PLEASE. Just. Stay. Safe.
I hope this detailed theoretical example of a pre-emptive strike against a modern=day Essex ninja helps you. As I have said before, I aim to educate.
I remind myself of the Guardian Angel dudes who ride / rode the subway in the US of A protecting the public. I am just like that, only I don’t do that, but in my head I could if I so wanted to (but I don’t).
So last week me and Bob Junior (female) were in France. I won’t cover that in detail here as it is not appropriate for this Boblog. We did manage to go into Paris for two rapid forays between connecting trains.
My young minion did all the tourist things – pics by the Eiffel Tower; listening to a variant of my ‘jokes’ about pushing mad people ‘in Seine’; seeing Notre Dame; smoking a Gitane and eating a baguette whilst pretending to be Sacha Distel.
It was my idea for her to enjoy a crepe by the Seine. Clearly I was not seeking a toilet humour scenario as that would be childish and unbecoming of a role model like myself. She did have one though and found it both enjoyable and liberating.
National stereotypes? I kid you not, there were a lot of stripey tops. No berets though.
One stereotype dispelled for us in Paris, and particularly in North East France where we stayed, was that of rudeness. We were treated wonderfully – supermarkets, food outlets, boulangeries, cafes, stations, you name it they were lovely. Friendly, wanting to help and just interested in chatting. Shame my French consists of phrases about monkeys in trees and the word ’embouteillage’ (traffic jam). I like to think that in return I was equally lovely and that in years to come they will still be talking about the ‘Beau Dieu anglais’.
As for the Great War cemeteries, memorials and battlefield sites. Just visit. The futility of a pointless war unfolds as soon as you see the first of these. Tragic.
Now tragic is a word I tend to associate with England and World Cups. I actually watched the Nigeria game at the weekend though and amazingly I enjoyed it. No expectations this time makes viewing so much easier. Did you know that England are the only competing nation in Russia where all the players play in their country’s own league? That may sum up some of our problems as a national team. I still have no idea why Southgate didn’t select Salah after the amazing season he has had.
I hope to have the Bobcave TV ready for the World Cup and already have my flag out. That is not a euphemism by the way. My tinkywinky does not resemble a flag. It does billow in the wind though. Actually billow is too much. It flutters.
Plenty of activity the last week or two in the garden. Our carpenter neighbour asked if we minded if he took down the garden fence and erected a new, straight (and higher….) version. No problemo.
I said I would try and help if needed but let him know that I am not the most DIY bloke ever. He did trust me though at one point and asked me to use his whirry drill screwdriver thingy to get two screws out of the fence on my side. By the time I had screwed them in so tight that he had to break the panel off, he didn’t seem to need my services anymore other than to break up old fence panels. Odd that.
Mrs Bob has been making the garden look lovely. Not just by being in it, which works by the way, but by putting plants and shit in the ground. Not literally. Well yes literally plants in the ground, but not ‘shit’; that’s just my cool street talk. Dank. I cuss to sound cool and it works. Dogdirt.
Talking ‘street’, whilst in France I became an overnight sensation with my 21st Century restyling of 2 Unlimited’s ‘No Limit’. Here is a taster for you. I plan to release a (nearly) live album in September and will be touring at the end of the year, supporting Wheezer and sponsored by Benylin Cough Syrups. If you would like singing and / or dancing lessons then write to me c/o Bob’s Street Dance and Urban Free Running Academy, Bob’s Back Garden, Essex.
On an unrelated note, me and Mrs Bob went to Ikea at the weekend and started with breakfast. It occurred to me that rather than going to the till and them having to look at what is on your tray, and you thinking ‘I might have wanted more than this’, there could be an easier way.
If we had glass fronts built into our stomachs then you could eat what you wanted at Ikea, and before you leave you just go past a cashier who looks in your stomach portal and adds up the items and then you pay. Simples! I actually thought that in my own head when I was in Ikea and also used a filter so that I did not trouble Mrs Bob with my idea.
Surprisingly when you Google ‘glass fronted stomach’ no such pictures appear but instead you get a picture of Gerard Depardieu drinking wine. That’ll have to do then.
Been a busy few weeks working, thus the lack of Boblogs. I have been doing a lot of my work in the Bobcave like a modern day troll. It’s not difficult, it’s like a troll in the park for me. Ha ha. I just made that up. I am multi-talented. Like Bradley Walsh or Sinitta.
I need to sign off now as I have work to do and need to move it. Like Cliff Richard did. Probably still does. I wonder if he is still Wired For Sound? I assume he is but it is no longer a Walkman he uses. I reckon he still has an iPod though but uses one of those docking pay speaker systems. Maybe he has a CD player. Like me I don’t reckon he streams music. That would be deng.
Have a wonderful Tuesday. Like Deputy Dawg would say ‘Dag nabit!’.