Cod Almighty | Diary

Cereal offenders

26 March 2014

It's your London Diary here today and this is the third iteration of the diary I have written already. My first diary was angry; we lost last night and I was mid-diary cursing all and sundry when, to make matters worse, it turns out I had run out of milk so couldn't even have my breakfast. What woe is this? I then stubbed my toe on the radiator on the way to put my socks on to go and get some milk, which escalated the anger. My language was more blue than an Eiffel 65 one-hit wonder.

I walked to the shop to try and vent this morning's frustrations and upon arriving at the dairy aisle at my local (metro/local) supermarket, it turns out they had run out of milk. Who runs out of milk?! Not so super now, hey?! More like standard market. Am I right?! Actually, even a standard market would have milk, come to think of it.

Anyway, I drink the green stuff and refuse to drink the red stuff, as you may as well put water on your cereal (I have fruit and fibre to keep it all regular, FYI) and if you put water on your fruit and fibre then you may as well move to Glastonbury Tor and call yourself 'Kitten'.

The manager of the store (who I occasionally natter to: he's a Brentford fan and he once recognised my GTFC pin so we now have stilted lower-league chat) suggested that I try soya milk. Now, I've never had soya milk before, well, not that I'm aware of and so I thought I might embrace the opportunity to glaze my flakes with this mysterious dairy alternative. Hey – it's 2014, let's welcome change with open arms, don't look back in anger, etc etc.

So, I headed back to my abode with soya in hand and carefully selecting more calm prose for the Wednesday diary. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Town after all. We lost to a team who are clearly going to walk away with the league.

Yes, we played well and yes, it may have been a fairytale had Scott Scotty Scott Scott scored the winner against the club he dated for two months. But he didn't, we lost and it's time for me to calm down. Seems last night's performance was the polar opposite of what John Tondeur described Saturday's performance as. Last night was more of an 'all fart and no poo' performance. Why aren't our strikers scoring? Great farts, guys, but we need more poo. Fruit and fibre, that's all I'm saying.

I sat down, laptop on lap, typed away at what was a very Guardianesque diary and was about to embark on the last paragraph when I started on my cereal. Sweet Jehovah, what holy devil's muck is this? Soya is absolutely bloody disgusting. Awful stuff. Minging. I'm fully aware that tastes are objective but Gordon Bennett, this stuff is pure shit in a cup. So up yours Luton, up yours soya and double up yours Brentford.

Have a great day, guys. Love you all.