I decided to push on with sorting out the house and give Rasputin a rest for the weekend. And we made some progress with getting the house into order but it's still a tip and I still don't know where half my things are. I think it might take another week to get to a completely liveable state. We might as well have moved house and in some ways it feels like we have.
I attempted to follow the York City vs Oxford Utd football match as I worked. I had had yet another football dream in which York had been winning 3-1 with 2 minutes to go, having been 3-0 up at half-time. I hadn't set too much store by my dream prediction - on the night before the first game of the season I had dreamt that York City had won 9-0 and that I personally had scored a hat-trick. In actuality York lost 3-1 and I didn't even make it on to the subs bench. So much for dreams being able to see the future. Also 3-1 was the score in the last game York played against Oxford (when we lost by that score-line in the Non-League play-off final in 2010), so maybe my subconscious was trying to create some justice.
But weirdly York had scored three goals by half-time (admittedly one of them was in their own goal, but that is the way dreams work - they can't tell you the whole truth) and with two minutes to go were 3-1 up. If only I'd put a tenner on it. But knowing how tricky my dream had been already I became fairly convinced that the last two minutes would have some surprises in store (I had woken up before the dream game had ended). Were Oxford going to get three late goals?
As it turned out, no. It was an exact reversal of the play-off final (even down to the own-goal - Oxford had scored one for York back then). This was an utterly brilliant result against what had been the unbeaten top team in the division. Maybe York City are going to stay in the football league this time round. Maybe they might even get promoted. But let's not get too excited, I believe they won the first four games in the season they were demoted to the conference. But for the moment we can dream. At last they seem to be using their magic powers for footballing purposes.
And this seems like a good time to mention for all those people filling the intersection on the Venn diagram of fans of York City and obscure comedians - I wrote the forward to
Bicycle Kicks - the story of an insane Minstermen fan, Simon Hood, who decided to attempt to cycle to all of the club's matches in the 2009-10 season (so I have just spoiled the end for you by revealing the final result). You don't have to be mad to support York City, but it just turns out that everyone who does, is.
Meanwhile I had found an old box of unopened condoms that had passed their sell-by date at the end of July 2012. It's a great comedy staple, though even in the often sexually barren years of my early 20s I don't think I ever owned a condom that went out of date. This was a box of 12 too - ah hubris, thy name is Durex. But actually this now useless box of prophylactics (to be honest I think they'll probably still be OK and might be the perfect gift for someone who gets off on taking very minor gambles) is a testament to me being successful at maintaining a relationship, for almost five years now - that's like 40 years in any normal human being years (I am not saying I am dog - actually yes I pretty much am). And I must have got more mature too because I didn't even think about getting the condoms out and blowing them up like balloons or filling them with water and throwing them out of the window or even having a posh wank. I just binned them. Let the rats at the dump use them to prevent unwanted pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases (rat syphilis is prevalent as I am sure you know). It's an artefact from an ancient time and a different person and a foreign country that I don't want to go back to. I don't think I'd be allowed in anyway. It's a resort that only Club 18-30 provide access to. And you really should make sure you visit it between those ages. I sneaked in until I was 40, but I wouldn't be fooling anyone now.
Look at me in my big grown-up house, not even throwing condom water bombs out of the windows at passersby. How would the man who started writing this blog nearly ten years ago view me? I think he'd think I was as much of a prick as I think he was. Why did you start doing this stupid blog you fuckwit? Didn't you realise you wouldn't be able to stop and that eventually you'd be too old to think of anything interesting or funny.
This condoms are still unopened in my bin if anyone wants them. Though if you ask for them I will know that you are sexually aroused by slightly enhancing your chances of contracting clamydia (surely no one is sexually aroused by the idea of accidentally getting someone pregnant). The condoms are Elite by the way. Oh yeah, I was pretty classy back then. Though for something elite they didn't seem to mind where they ended up.
All right, enough now. I apologise.
