As I wandered through the centre of Hull today, with Shaun of the Dead still fresh in my mind, I thought how much this dull city would benefit from a bit of cartoon violence. And then a man got off a bus right in front of me with a garden fork. And I thought, hey, any minute he’ll start swinging it at people’s heads and running it through unsuspecting OAPs. But he didn’t. So I wondered if I should go and buy me a cricket bat and make my own fun but then, when I was exiting the pub after eating Chinese Chilli Beef and was nearly ran over by one of those electric vehicles driven by a disabled woman in a duffel coat wearing an eye patch I was glad I hadn’t, because she’d have been wearing a cricket bat instead. Films can do that to people, can’t they? My equally violent alter-ego found himself defending Quentin Tarantino on Not BBC today. Not only do I like Shaun of the Dead, but my alter-ego also likes Kill Bill Volume 1. He reads a bit too much Bret Easton Ellis for my liking though, but I daren’t tell him not to in case he gets nasty…
Sam came soooooo close to scoring a really great try in his u8s rugby league game last night. He ran half the length of the pitch but, within 4 ft of the line and with thoughts of what he would have done with the money from a proud dad that his try-scoring would have brought him running rampant through his tiny head, a child half his size stripped the ball away. And the moment passed by just as quickly as it began. It’s hard standing on the touchline sometimes.