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.

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