2017 is already a crazy ride!

Before I start……Happy New Year!!!!!

It’s New Year’s day and I’m working.

My shift started at 4am, so I had to leave the house around 3am.  This meant driving through post-New Year crowds and traffic….in Las Vegas.

This is what I encountered:

  • A mere 45 seconds into my drive an oncoming car veered into my lane for about 10 seconds before realising they were on the wrong side of the road.  I had to stop the car otherwise I would have hit them!
  • A multitude of cars were drifting between lanes without any indicators [turn signals] or awareness of others around them.
  • A few cars straddling lanes for extended periods of time.
  • Lots and lots of red lights.  Seriously, I was at a set of red lights for almost 5 minutes, with no other cars going through the green lights on the cross street!
  • A truck stopped in the middle of the road, blocking everyone.  No reason that I could see.  Also, no driver that I could see.
  • Lots and lots of cars cutting each other up/off.  One driver was so impatient at a red light that he moved into the ‘Right Turn Only‘ lane and then when the lights went green he went straight, cutting up the driver to his left just to get in front.  He pulled over and parked 100 yards later.
  • Lots of loud, drunk people teetering on the edge of the pavement [sidewalk] threatening to walk out in front of my car.

Now, this was the first time I had EVER had to drive to work on New Year’s day in Las Vegas.  I couldn’t believe the experience compared to my normal commute…..

It was no different.

toystorybaddrivers

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Literally?

2014 is upon us and, so it seems, is some of the worst weather England has ever seen.

On this lovely Monday morning all the trains were either delayed or cancelled due to severe flooding from the deluge our fine country is relentlessly being twatted with.

There were buses being operated between certain parts of the route which meant the stations were getting very crowded, very quickly.

So, to hear a guy on the train tell some uninterested bastard on the phone that “there was literally a million people on the platform” left me to conclude that he was “literally an arse”.

Fat, hairy and spouting nothing but shit.

Happy new year everyone!

Breakfast At Tiffanys

The new year has come and gone, and for most of us all we have to show for it is a perpetual hangover and a distinct sense of fatigue that simply wont bugger off.  

Not me.  

Having shared in excess of 12 bottles of proseccco between four of us I should’ve been, by rights, a fucking mess. Instead I woke up as bright as a button and felt great; much to the chagrin of one half of the couple we’d celebrated with.

He was simply struggling to function properly.

In fact he spent a majority of the morning concentrating on difficult tasks like walking, talking and breathing (very gently).  

It was on his recommendation that we find somewhere that does breakfasts, or a “dirty fry up”as he called it. Works for me; I was frigging starving!  

We were in the middle of Brighton so we knew there would be plenty of places to eat. Although having said that, it was mostly bloody fish and chip shops. Our slowly dying friend pointed out there was a great cafe that he’d eaten at before called Tiffany’s. This was met with a snort of laughter from me as it was either a bad pun or a happy accident.  

Please be the latter.
Please be the latter.  

It was the former.  

Bum.  

Oh well, not to worry. We entered and ‘bagsied’ a table like a stereotypical German with a towel before approaching the checkout to place our orders.  

“There’s a 25 minute wait for food” we were told.   We didnt care, just take our order, bring us buckets of orange juice and tea and we’ll be happy.  

It took 35 minutes for our drinks to arrive which meant that we were so dehydrated we resembled a table of tortoise scrotums. It then took a further 20 minutes for our food to get to us. By this time we’d started gnawing the table and licking other customers as they came in.  

The food was good though; truth be told. I had sausage, egg, bacon, beans and chips. I did wonder if it still counts as breakfast if it had chips with it, but figured it must do as it was on the breakfast half of the massive chalkboard menu behind the counter.  

Whilst we waited forever for our sustenance my brother called me to wish me happy new year.  

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“Having breakfast in a greasy cafe in Brighton” I replied.  

“Good man! What are you having?”  

I told him.

He then said the exact same thing about the chips.  

Seriously, why do chips turn a breakfast into lunch?  

Anyway, we finally left about 2 hours after we’d arrived.

When it said ‘All Day Breakfast’ we didn’t realise that meant the time taken to serve it.

A picture perfect New Year

Happy New Year!!!!

Welcome to 2013.

Today I signed up for the 365project (after much coaxing and persuasion from a friend)

The idea is to upload a photo every day (Shyeah right!  Like THAT’LL happen!).

But, if any of you already do it, or you just fancy having a look….please do.

http://365project.org/dansortino/365

And feel free to comment or leave feedback….

Thanks muchly and look out for my next blog entry.

Dan x

Dress for less? I doubt it…

Yesterday I had the joys of going dress shopping with my girlfriend to find something for tonight’s New Year celebrations.  To be honest, I didn’t really mind as I needed to buy a shirt for myself, or at least something smarter than a t-shirt and jeans.
 
Fortunately for us the entire town and surrounded villages had decided to do the same thing.  This made the experience all the more exciting and enjoyable.  Oh how we adore shopping with hundreds and hundreds of people.
 
There were a few things I observed whilst swimming through the crowds and punching my way through chavs, children and slow walking couples…
 
1. The January sales were most definitely on, with posters promising ‘Up To 70% off’, but in reality nothing seemed to be discounted more than 20%.  I know that legally these stores have to sell some items at 70% off, but I failed to find them.  Maybe I wasn’t looking in the right places, like maternity clothing or guns and ammo.
 
2. The sales areas seem to take up half the floor space of every clothes shop; festooned with posters and hanging boards offering massive discounts.  It’s only to be expected.  In fact, this is the reason why you couldn’t slide a credit card between people as they jostle and fight for discounted items you wouldn’t be seen dead in at regular prices.  That said, the menswear departments in these stores have a sale area as large as one rail.
 
Yes…ONE rail. 
 
In H&M the sales posters and livery stopped at the menswear section!  How is that fair?  To be honest, New Look did have two full rails of sale clothing, but there are only so many peach coloured paisley shirts and green jumpers with leather elbow patches a man can take.  And forget looking for a shirt in these stores; it’s all jumpers, jackets and t-shirts.  If you want a shirt you have go to somewhere like Burtons and buy a shirt at full price.
 
Which I did.
 
3. Finding a dress that my girlfriend liked was an undertaking as she isn’t built like a skinny 12 year old boy.  This means that 90% of dresses don’t fit.  She is in no way fat or unsightly, but instead is cursed with lovely curves and things called ‘boobs’ (which seems alien to most high street designers).  This meant that finding a dress that suited her figure was difficult.  Thankfully when she found a dress she liked it was in every size except hers.  Oh how we laughed each and every time that happened.  In fact, we were pretty much laughing all day long.
 
On the rare occasion we did find a dress she liked, AND it was the right size, we then ventured to the fitting rooms.  This in itself should be an easy affair, but the queues are longer than the Post Office on pension day and the location of these curtained cubicles are questionable.
 
You see, the fitting rooms are always located right next to the lingerie section of the store.  This means that, whilst my girlfriend is trying on her potential purchases, I’m stood amongst the bras and panties looking like some kind of dribbling pervert.  There’s nothing more awkward than having a woman say “excuse me” because I’m obscuring the intimate lingerie she’d like to look at, or getting those looks from women who clearly want to peruse the underwear  I’m sat next to.  I suppose they feel a bit self conscious about looking through the thongs and g-strings that are inches from my face.
 
Maybe I should’ve started thumbing through the bras, occasionally holding one up against me as if I’m buying them for myself.  Then again, I’d rather not be arrested this close to new year.
 
So instead I do the only thing I can do to disassociate myself from the whole debacle; pretend to be texting. 
 
Which leads me to my next point…
 
4.  It’s interesting to see what blokes do outside the fitting rooms whilst waiting for their other halves to appear wearing something they don’t want to be told their bum looks big in.  The activity of choice is play with their phones, be it Angry Birds, texting, surfing the web for Blu-rays or blogging about shopping with the missus.  A lot of us share that knowing look of camaraderie whilst stood there holding several shopping bags, a coat, scarf and a handbag; none of which belongs to us.  On one occasion I saw a guy sitting there, between the bras and the shoes, reading a Wolverine comic book.  Here’s a bloke who knows he’s there for the long haul.
 
Kudos.
 
5. Lastly, the in-store music.  It seems there is an agreement to play the same CD or radio station throughout every single shop in town.  No comedy comment here or smarmy quip.  Just stop it.
 
Stop it now.
 
So all in all, a long afternoon spent traipsing around hot and stuffy shops full of idiots and pushchairs.
 
Oh, and she didn’t buy anything; instead deciding to put something together with what she already has at home.  And then, upon returning home, remembering she’d bought a dress the week before that would be perfect.
 
C’est la vie.
 
I’m sure whatever she wears she’ll look fabulous in it.  And if she doesn’t, I’ll be too drunk tonight to care.
 
Have a great New Year people!!