Beans and gravy (KFC again!)

So, about a week ago my wonderful wife decided to send me on another great adventure to your Ely restaurant, boy how I love that place!

As I approached I began to hear a distant voice, I slowed the car down and opened the window, I could still hear the voice but couldn't see anybody. I soon enough realised that it was coming from inside my head, and it was repeating the same 2 words over and over, get chinese, Get chinese, GET CHINESE, GET CHINEEEEEEESE!!!!!

But the wife had insisted I take what little is left of my soul and pick her up some chicken and recycled chips (fries for the American folk) so like a devoted (read as slightly terrified) husband I closed my window and drove up to the speaker.

To save time I have decided to abbreviate the KFC employee to FCO (Fried chicken overlord) and this, this right here, is how it went.

FCO: Hi, welcome to KFC Ely how can I help you?
Me: Hi, can I please have a LARGE fillet box meal.
FCO: What side and drink would you like with that? <---IMPORTANT -------<<<
Me: Can I please have GRAVY and a Pepsi max cherry
FCO: Not a problem, would you like to go large with that meal?
Me; (What I wanted to say) Well duuuuuh, I asked for a large meal, so no make it a regular.
Me: (What I actually said) Yes please, that would be super!
FCO: Anything else?
Me: Yes please, can I also have a LARGE boneless banquet meal. (Note LARGE!)
FCO: What side, dip and drink would you like with that?
Me: May I please have GRAVY, sweet chilli dip and a Pepsi max cherry.
FCO: Would you like to go large with that?

At this point I considered banging my head against the steering wheel, but my car is held together with prayers and best wishes so I decided against it.

Me: Yes please. 
FCO: That will be blah blah blah, please make your way to the next window. 

I arrived at the window and paid, I was asked if I wanted a receipt but thinking of the impact on our environment (Good old Greta Thunberg) I said no, and therein was my mistake.

I pulled up to the collection window and was handed two MEDIUM cups of drink, yes MEDIUM, now I'm siding with you here, I'm really hoping that customer care are compos mentis and you'll see where things are starting to unravel. I didn't ask for MEDIUM sized drinks Betty, or whatever your name is, I asked for LARGE!

Betty: Are you sure you asked for large meals Sir?
Me: yes, yes I am.
Betty: Well it says on the screen that you ordered 1 large and 1 medium meal
Me: I ordered two large meals, but hey HOLD ON A MINUTE! If I ordered two medium meals according to your screen WHY are you handing me 2 x medium?
Betty: Oh yeah! oops.
Me: (In my head) Yeah, ooops indeed sweetheart, now maybe you could concentrate on getting my order right and not dancing around the kitchen like you're having some form of taser induced seizure.

She then proceeds to hand me 2 x large drinks without a cup holder!

Me: Do you have any cup holders please? It's really difficult juggling 2 drinks whilst driving.
Betty: You need a cup holder?
Me: Yes please, if it's not too much trouble.

At this point I pulled away from the window and began my journey home. Therein lay my second mistake. I DIDN'T CHECK MY ORDER....... Now, a lot of friends have told me that I should ALWAYS check my order before I leave, but you know something? I believe in treating adults like adults, I mean after all, these staff members are entrusted with sharp implements such as knives and scissors, and I presume they also have to fry the chicken in boiling hot oil.

But no, because I'm an idiot I trusted these people not to get 2 simple meals wrong.

I got home and sat on the sofa weeping softly and rocking back and forth like some kind of escaped psychopath while my wife got the food out of the bag and handed it to me. This is where it went even further tits up.

Wife: No gravy again?
Me: Yeah, they had gravy.
Wife: So why have we got two pots of beans?
Me: Probably because a lizard with concussion is more likely to get my order right than the evil chicken overlords at that absolute den of stupidity.
Wife: Sorry, I know you prefer funerals than going to get KFC but I really fancied it.
Me: That's ok, can you pass me my sweet chilli dip please?Wife: No dip

                                                                    Picured: beans



I grabbed my phone, looked up the number for the restaurant and dialled it, the phone rang about a dozen times and I hung up. I'm glad they didn't answer to be honest, because had they picked up that phone I'm not sure that they would have survived the verbal armageddon I was about to bring down on them.

PLEASE don't insult me by saying you'll send in the area/regional coaches to teach them the difference between gravy and beans, if they can't tell the difference by now may I suggest you fire them all and put some of your chickens in charge for the future? My cat is 17 years old and currently licking her own arse and I'm fairly sure that even she could spot the difference between beans and gravy.

When are you actually going to take care of this restaurant and get them trained to a standard where they are equipped to notice subtle differences between oooooh let's say night and day, or maybe hot or cold.

Really it is an absolute joke of a place to get food from, and if my wife continues to send me I can see three potential outcomes.

1) Divorce, I end up living under a bridge in sarf london and strangers buy me KFC so I don't end up on drugs or alcohol.

2) My wife's murder. I'd hate to kill her, she's mostly a nice person, but she's pushing her luck by keeping on sending me.

3) I lay in the drive thru lane in a chicken suit screaming 'KFC is murder' until the nice men in the padded ambulance come along, scoop me up and let me wear the nice jacket with the buckles and straps.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FIX THE PROBLEM! I don't care about compensation, I don't care about the fact that yet again I went without the food I ordered, but I do care about my mental health, and I am about one missing or incorrect side away from going five alarm wibble again, and that wasn't very fun for me.

No it'SNOT!

If you know me then you'll know I am a very calm, logical and carefree kind of guy. And you'll also know that what I just said is a MASSIVE fucking lie!

EVERYTHING irks me lately, since my hairline started heading south to relocate in my nostrils and ears I have been getting increasingly cranky. I'm not lying either, all of you young thundercats will end up having similar issues, where you look like you've eaten a hedgehog, sneezed and its fucking bristles have popped out of every orifice leaving you looking like an angry sea urchin with a pot belly.

Let me first start by talking about a fucking magical incident that happened at my unnamed place of work today.

I was stood there minding my own business ensuring people could go about their daily business when a customer approached me at a rate of knots. He was clearly in a right mood so I braced myself for the upcoming tirade.

It went a little something like this:

Me: Good morning Sir, is there anything I can help you with today?

Captain lycra: Yes, yes there is! Did you know that there are no plastic bags by the vegetables?

Me: Yes Sir I did, we are trying to help save the environment from its impending death, we are cutting the amount of single use plastics we have in store. 

Captain lycra: Well that's fucking ridiculous! How am I supposed to transport these carrots home?

Me: Well, and here's just a suggestion, maybe you could put them in that bag on your back? It's only 3 small carrots and I am pretty sure you could fit a 3 bed apartment in that thing.....

And it was at this point I noticed something dreadful, the man had a droplet of clear snot hanging off of his septum and the more bothered he became the larger it got.

I decided that this was the perfect opportunity to see if I could make this shiny globule touch the floor. I began talking to him again.

Me: Greta Thunberg told me us that we need to save the environment so that future generations can enjoy the joy we experience from snowball fights and building a giant snowman complete with a carrot nose.
Captain lycra: Well I think it is fucking stupid! 

Me: And can you imagine how hard it will be to scuba dive with your view obscured by tons of plastic?

Captain lycra: I don't go scuba diving......

Me: Neither do I Sir.

Captain lycra: Then why are you bothered?

Me: I'm not.......

Captain lycra: but..........

With every word I spoke he got redder, and the snot drop got bigger and heavier. Gravity began to play its part and it was soon hanging precariously above his top lip.

Me: And don't forget all the dolphins that are eating carrier bags thinking thinking they are jellyfish!

Captain lycra: Jellyfish???

at this point he turned slightly and the snot became truly mobile, it swung around like some kind of crystal ball on a chain, and this is where it got really bad.

It connected with his chin! It formed a liquid crystal arc from nose to chin, and I figured he was till unaware......

Until he licked it! That was it, I was retching inside and in danger of throwing up on his bicycle clips and hiking boots, and then he did it again! I have never been so revulsed in my entire life. I felt so ill at the sight that I didn't eat breakfast for at least 20 minutes.

Bloody grim.

I'm never drinking again!

What's up fuckers?

Yes, I know I have been a little bit absent again, but it's not my fault! Nothing really interesting has happened to me for a while, so I figured I'd go back a few years to a company party, and the reason I barely drink any more.

This is the story of how I pretty much gave up alcohol entirely.

I used to be a BIG drinker, I mean fucking silly amounts of alcohol, and it has led me on all manner of adventures, from wheeling a Christmas tree around Cambridge city centre to nearly getting arrested for all kinds of stupid fuckery.

I figured that seeing as it was Christmas I may as well push the boat out and have a couple of pints of cider while I waited for my colleagues to arrive at the restaurant. Well this proved to be mistake number one, because if you know me I tend to drink rather quickly. I'll down a pint in around seven seconds and used to drink 4 pints of lager straight from the jug in around a minute (I never claimed to be clever)

Well, those 2 pints of cider were gone before anybody had arrived so I figured I'd go the same again. I was now 4 pints in after maybe 30 or 45 minutes. People began to arrive and we sat down to eat, being the greedy fat fuck that I am I ordered the biggest mixed grill you have EVER seen. There was enough dead animal on that plate to feed a starving wolf pack.

I drank more cider and a few beers as we ate, and at this point I should have slowed down. When I'm headed towards drunk my gums go numb and I start talking more shit than I ever imagined possible. I was starting to slur my words, and people were beginning to ask me if I was ok......

OK? I'm fucking invincible!

After the meal we moved on to a bar and I vaguely remember ordering a tray of 20 various shots. I believe it consisted of bacon flavoured vodka, jagermeister, goldschalger and a bunch of other random shit. I also kind of remember drinking most of them myself in rapid succession.

It's at this point I get a little bit hazy.......

I think* I walked off, somebody had told me that there was a meteor shower happening that evening so I went and laid on my back in a puddle as the rain fell by the bucket load. I gazed up at the sky, the clouds peppering my face with droplets of icy cold water, and as this was going on I don't think I even questioned why I couldn't see any meteors.

I took a slow walk home, I think I was walking sideways, because it took me a good 45 minutes to complete a 5 minute wander. When I walked through the door I was full of Christmas cheer, but unbeknownst to me, a chemical reaction of epic proportions was taking place in my guts.

Kelly happened to comment that my T-Shirt was on inside out (How? Not a fucking clue) and told me that I was more drunk than she had ever seen. No problem I thought, I'll just sit on the sofa and let the effects wear off. Well I suppose I may have fallen asleep with my head facing the ceiling, because the next thing I heard was "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaave!!!!" and I opened my eyes with a startled jolt.

What's that above my face? Was it some form of spirit? Was it a portal to another dimension?

No, no it fucking wasn't, it was vomit, a lot of fucking vomit, and gravity was about to teach me that what goes up truly does come down.

SPLAT! The fucking rainbow yawn crashed down on my face with the force of 2 Hiroshima bombs, I had bacon, lamb chop and black pudding lodged in my eyes, and it burned like I'd been pepper sprayed by the police.

Bluuuuurgh! The second launch was released, I tried to move my head, but it was no good, it crashed down on my face, went up my nose, in my ears and coated the sofa and wall.

I stood up, bits of my dinner fell off me like body parts off of a leper and dropped to the floor.

'Dave, don't FUCKING move!' was Kelly's command, but I wasn't mentally or physically capable of hearing what she said, so I ran. I made it to the bottom of the stairs before the next wave of nausea hit me, I held my hands out like a fucking hungry orphan and attempted to catch the contents of my stomach as they spilled out of me, but even my massive bucket hands wasn't enough to do the trick.

I dragged myself up the stairs as quickly as I could, but it was painstakingly slow progress, and the new carpet was taking the brunt of it..... (Did I mention that the carpet was less than a week old?)

I got into the bathroom and put my head over the toilet bowl, I sat there shell shocked for a good hour before I realised I'd eventually have to move. Kelly had already told me to fuck off if I thought I was getting in bed so I came up with a genius idea.

I slept in the bath, the only problem was I'd not finished puking, there was still gallons of beer and mushrooms, sausage, chips and some form of green slime that to this day baffles me as to what it was.

Every time I did another rainbow yawn I'd turn the shower on, wash the chunks off of my clothes and go back to sleep. I did this all night and through the following morning until maybe lunchtime. When I could finally move I slowly made my way downstairs, Kelly gave me a dirty look, and refused to speak to me for two days.

I swear to god it was bliss, but the feelings of guilt knowing that she must have had to clean up all of that mess while I about died in the bathroom haunts me to this day. So, the moral of the story is this......

Don't be like Dave.

Cheers!

'KFC Ely, you'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy'.

Stick the kettle on, make yourself a nice cup of tea and have a couple of biscuits (yes cookies you American oddballs) because I'm about to blow.

Pond dribble: Welcome to KFC drive thru, can I take your order please?

Me: Why yes, yes you can my good man! I'll have the following.

1 x Large fillet box meal with a thigh piece, gravy and cherry pepsi max.

1 x Large boneless banquet meal with sweet chilli dip, gravy and cherry pepsi max

1 x Fillet tower burger

1 x Large cherry pepsi max

And finally some corn.

Pond dribble: No problem, please come to the first window.

So I drive forward 10 fucking yards, my heart already dropping out of my ass because I know that my happy day is about to be murdered by imbeciles.

Me: Can I just check both meals are large.

Pond dribble: Neither are large sir, did you want large?

Me: Yes please, that's why I asked for large meals, it was the very first thing I fucking asked for!

Pond dribble: "Oh right........ and there's a 15 minute wait for chicken"

Me: Oh, fucking joy!


I drive round to the collection window and am confronted by the most impossibly cheerful cunt I have ever met.

Happy cunt: "Here are your drinks, we have plastic straws!"

Me: (to myself) I bet you have fucking plastic scissors too you fucking clown shoe. "Can I have a cup holder please?"

Happy cunt: "We only have the holders for 4 cups, and you only have 3 drinks"

Me: "Well I have 3 drinks......."

Happy cunt: "But this holds 4 teeheehee!"

Me: "CUP. HOLDER."

Happy cunt: Have you tried our new supercharger dip? Teeheehee!

Me: No I have not, I just want sweet chilli please

Happy cunt: Are you suuuuuure? Teeheehee!

Me: SWEET. CHILLI.

My food arrived in less than 3 fucking minutes, they said 15 minutes, how long has my chicken been fuckimg hanging around for? I reckon I got the reheats from yesterday fucking lunchtime.

I swear if I wake up in the middle of the night with the shits I'm going to squeeze some of my runs out into a fucking tupperware box and leave it on their fucking doorstep!

And they forgot my fucking corn, the absolute fucking wankpuffins!

KFC twitter feed, get fucking ready!

Men's mental health

So let's talk some more about men's mental health. I'm saying this because us guys find it very hard to show what we have been taught is 'weakness' when that couldn't honestly be further from the truth.

- Ever feel lonely even though you're surrounded by colleagues, friends and family?

- Ever feel like you don't deserve to be happy and that you're worthless?

- Ever cry without any idea whatsoever as to why?

You do? Well allow me to let you into a little secret........

ME TOO!!!

But you know something? It's not just you and I, no no my friends, there are millions of us out there. We're there fighting back the tears in public, we're putting on a brave face and we're trying to fool people into thinking that we're the stereotypical macho men that don't have a care in the world all in the name of being the 'alpha' sex.

Well you know something, the only person we're kidding is ourself. We're not weak because we cry, we're not tragic because we are drowning in our own thoughts, not even close.

We are HUMAN, and some of us are tricked into the inky blackness of depression, others are just dropped smack bang into the middle of an ocean of despair, but it's not the end of the road my friends, all is NOT lost, in fact I want to tell you that it is the exact OPPOSITE!

Depression is the beginning of a huge journey of self discovery! At first it will make you feel like you can't win, it will make you doubt yourself, it will make you paranoid but at the same time not give a shit, and it will make you believe that you can't ever escape, but you CAN and you WILL!

Depression and mental health issues aren't the boss of you, they aren't in control, they are merely an obstacle that we need to overcome.

There is no shame in raising a metaphorical hand and saying with confidence 'I NEED HELP' it is perfectly ok to not be ok, but you know what isn't ok? What's not ok is leaving yourself not being ok, because you deserve better.

Everybody battles this disease differently, some people get a Doctor's appointment and are put on medication, others are offered counselling and the opportunity to talk to experts that can help you to process your emotions, to file away your triggers one by one, and some people need all of the above!

Along the way you'll suffer knockbacks, you'll cry because the wind is blowing in the wrong direction, and you'll wake up wondering what the point of anything actually is. This too is ABSOLUTELY normal for your situation, depression will try and trick you into hating yourself, but that's all it is! It is a chemical imbalance in our brains that exaggerates negativity, it causes our happiness to be shrouded in a primordial fog, but we never leave, we are still there, completely intact and ready to be rescued.

Please remember that it's NOT forever, please understand that you're NOT alone, if you're feeling awful drop me a message and I'll be there right by your side, if not in person then in spirit, and I won't abandon you.

There are some amazing support services out there, ranging from the Samaritans to family members, friends and GP's

Use them, lean on them for support and they will lift you when you are feeling like you're losing.

It took me a long time to understand that my tears and sorrow didn't make me less of a man, and once you understand that you'll be on the right path and headed for better times.

Much love,

Dave.

Gullible fools!

So, a lot of you know that I don't tolerate stupidity very well, it ranks right up there on my 'go fuck yourself' list. I'm just not good at hiding my disdain when people do or share stuff that is so clearly bullshit that I want to repeatedly bash them in the head with a fucking coconut.

From viral posts telling you what percentage Hobbit you are, to not understanding basic app permissions, it all makes me want to drown you in a bowl of chicken and sweetcorn soup, but it's not just me, there is a queue behind me a mile long willing to do the same.

So without any further fuckery, and no further fucking ado let us take a look at a few of my favourites.

1) 1 like = 1 prayer.

Dave says: Don't be a fucking soggy biscuit. I'm pretty sure that God DOESN'T EXIST, but if he does happen to then I'm pretty sure he's not going to save a child because Barbara and her mates gave a post the fucking thumbs up! In fact I would imagine that God is probably face palming at your stupidity. I mean it's a noble thing to click a button to notify a deity that there is a child in mortal danger, but no, just fucking step away from the device.

2) The facebook starting to charge for usage post.

Dave says: Even though Mark Fuckerberg has repeatedly told these lemmings that he's NEVER going to charge the user for accessing Facebook you still get these fucking oxygen thieves dropping some copy/paste bullshit that will make them exempt from paying the weekly/monthly/yearly fee. Don't be a fucking dingbat, all you're doing is spreading lies and dimwittery.

3) The let's see who reads my wall post.

Dave says: No Betty, just fucking NO! Please copy and paste this message and drop a reply saying where we met. Oh Betty, you poor fucking deluded fool, do you REALLY want me, one of the most awkward, devious, shit stirring bastards in history telling your friends and family where we met? I'm obviously not going to say 'work' so it's either going to be a brothel or the local STI clinic, take yer fucken pick you dickhead!

4) The Facebook spring clean!

Dave says: Oh, that's great news! I survived the culling of the knuckle draggers and now I will continue to be subjected to your fucking waffle about the price of bread, the fact your girlfriend is so beautiful (I have news for you, she's a fucking swampdonkey) Am I supposed to be grateful that you want to continue spying on my life? Fuck you tarquin you nosey cunt.

5) The I'm deactivating my Facebook account next week post.

Dave says: Yawn, this is the 47th time this weekend you've threatened to go away and leave me in peace! Stop making empty promises you fucking tease!!! I know you're going through a tough time since you lost that £5 off pizza hut voucher, but let's not get carried away, you're going to make it through, in fact if you shut the fuck up I'll give you a few quid and you can gorge yourself on a large stuffed crust with Tuna and Skittles. 

6) The quick! MESSAGE ME! post.

Dave says: If you have a serious problem then by all means ask people for help, we've all been there and could do with sharing some good or bad news, but don't just say 'I give up' and then not reply to Cheryl, Mavis and Julie's comments saying 'Oh babe, what's wrong?' and definitely DO NOT say 'inbox me' you fucking lazy piss stained tramp's shoe, if you want to talk to me then you fucking message me you lazy cunt.

7) The hard man post.

Dave says: Ok Gary we get it, you're sick of ISIS murdering people, we are fucking upset about it too, but I'm pretty sure that you being outraged on Facebook is not going to bother them for the following reasons.

- You only leave your parent's basement to go for a piss or to visit the job centre.
- The most powerful gun you've ever held, let alone fired is a fucking light gun on your PS fucking 3. 
- You don't own a passport, so the closest you're getting to Syria is the front door of your parent's house. 
- You're a fucking 6 stone coward who breaks bones when you yawn, so get back in your fucking box, ok Gary?

8) The MLM 'friend'

Dave says: Oh, Hi Barbara! I haven't heard from you in 15 years, how are you doing? Oh riiiiight, you're now selling the sweat from the ass crack of bumble bees, and you want me to become part of a highly successful, super motivated team of like-minded people who want to earn £50000 a day and by only working 3 days per week! I've seen claims that the products of these fucking MLM companies can cure CANCER, yes you read that right it can CURE CANCER! No healthcare professional, no research chemist and no hospital have ever found a definitive cure, but if I eat 3 spider legs dipped in moose shit 5 times a day for three months my tumours will be gone and I'll be competing in ironman triathlons? SIGN. ME. THE. FUCK. UP. Orrrrrrr, you could just fuck off and leave me alone.

Thanks for sticking with me thus far, but I want to close out with an extra special fucking moron that I encountered a few years back, I won't be telling you her name because I feel it is unfair to single out somebody for being so wonderfully stupid that she'd lose a game of scrabble to a brain injured weasel, isn't that right Sue?........ ooops.

9) The Facebook messenger conspiracy.

Dave says: I was told that Facebook are taking over the world. They are infiltrating our home day by day and will eventually control our every waking moment.

Sue: Dave, you shouldn't install facebook messenger, I fucking won't be.

Me: Oh right........ Why not?

Sue: They ask for access to your microphone, camera, contact list and gallery, they do it so they can see everything you see and hear everything you say.

Me: What makes you think that?

Sue: Well why else would they need access to all of those things?

Me: Well Sue, and I'm just guessing here....... Maybe, just maaaaaybe it's because you can make voice and video calls via messenger, that's why they need access to your Mic and Cam, and they need access to your contacts so you can errrrrrr contact them I'd imagine. Oh and finally I would imagine they'd need access to your gallery so you can send 300 fucking selfies a day of your fat ass to your friends.

Sue: Eh?


Honestly this shit drives me insane.

Just a couple more things, no you don't look 18 years old, you are not 140% awesome, you won't die aged 303 years old due to eating deadly nightshade and I am pretty fucking certain your name doesn't mean heroic unicorn in fucking sanscrit you absolute stark raving cuntburger.

Love you all really, but if I kill you it is probably due to shit I have covered above.