Adverts

Monday, August 19, 2013

One Wedding, Elvis & A Hangover


My Dad said before my weekend away – “The local pub are doing 2 steaks and a bottle of wine for £20, are you up for it?”.  Hell yes was my obvious response.

He then proceeded to advise me of the Elvis tribute act.  Thankfully there was a second room to this pub where I could escape to thrash my sister at pool for the 4th consecutive time.

Even my Dad said he was the worst Elvis tribute act he had ever seen.  It was my first.  And hopefully last.


Ahh entertainment in Hull (actually Cottingham to be exact).  Apparently Hull now has a museum of club culture.  Could be interesting – yet another reason to go to Hull on holiday.  That and the world’s only submarium, an excellent bridge that Jose Mourinho approves of and the smallest window in the country.

My reason for going to Hull wasn’t just the steak, which by the way was very average at best – oh and how did I nearly forget – it came with fucking peas on the plate.  I asked what it came with and they advised mushrooms, chips and salad.  I assume they mixed up the chips for peas as they were no chips.


Do you see any salad on there?  Or chips for that matter?

It was to attend my cousin’s wedding.  It was a lot of fun.  My cousin’s are very loud, confident and funny people – a Winfield wedding is never too quiet.  I don’t remember leaving, apparently I fell asleep.  I can only guess at the amount of wine consumed.  I think I told my staunch trade unionist uncle that I went to Thatcher’s funeral.  I couldn’t help myself aafter hearing loads of shite about ‘Tory cuts’!  Oops.  I wore a horse’s head mask at some point.

Oh and my phone reckons I spent several hours on the other side of the river.  Thought I would have remembered the mile-long bridge crossing.



The wedded couple were also blessed by a fair proportion of the Hull City team who clearly popped by just to give their approval to the marriage.  Who said footballers have no heart?

 
I would advise what I did on Sunday but it is a state secret.  However I can advise that Sunday roasts of a large size actually have sufficient meat unlike the tight sods that run pubs down here.  And extra gravy is no problem at all – real gravy too!  None of that poncy shit.