Happy Saturday to you folks. Except it’s not really a ‘happy’ Saturday at all, is it?

In fact, it’s all a bit, well, shite if we’re honest and yesterday evening the Prime Minister here in the UK confirmed that all the fun social things in life have to be stopped. Immediately. No bars, no pubs, no gyms, no restaurants, no cinema, no theatres. That’s it. England is closed. No more boozing it up in your local watering hole. So to add to the fact that there’s basically no sport, we have little else other than each other to keep company. I’m so glad for The Management. I’d probably have gone insane by now had I not have her and my thoughts genuinely go out to those people in isolation on their own. If you are isolated but you can still go out, do it; go for a walk, run, etc. Do the whole ‘keep your distance’ thing but make sure you get out.

I’ve been taking an hour to run every day and it’s actually helping my waistline, believe it or not, so I have to take small pleasures where they can be found.

And they can also be found on the social media community. I’ve seen some great videos of people entertaining themselves by trying to bring in humour. Some people might take a video of a dentist doing a Vanilla Ice “Ice Ice Baby” as insensitive, or of a guy making up a story about giant lasagne as in poor taste, but in this time of doom and gloom from the media we all need to find a little bit of joy or fun in our lives. So I’m down for it. Let’s have a counter balance to the constant doom mongering in the press, eh?

At least Arsenal are doing their part. The social media team are still going strong and are dropping content of old goals, games, etc and if you want to have a gander just scooch on over to the official site and have a gander at some of the great volleys we’ve seen in the Emirates era. The two that will always stand out for me – mainly because it was up where my seats are at and they were utter rockets, are the Poldi Champions League goal against Montpellier and the van Persie goal against Everton. Screamers. Loved it.

And given there’s still no other news about The Arsenal going on right now, I’m delving into my Facebook account to ask people what they want me to write about. At the beginning of the year I decent my new years resolution was going to be: Sourdough bread. Somebody asked me “Making it? Eating it? Talking about it? Worshipping it?” and to them I did say:

Yes.

All of the above.

Sourdough bread is elite level bread. It’s the creme-de-la-creme of breads. It’s like the genetically supercharged, got stuck in a gamma-ray blast and turned into a super hero, bread.

And to think when I was younger I hated white bread. Mainly because kids in my Primary School used to eat the disgusting Mighty White bread and it used to get stuck in their teeth as they would talk at you at lunch. Eurgh, just thinking about that makes me recoil a bit. I even used to get my mum to make me crackers – genuine, Jacobs Crackers, with a bit of ham in the middle so I didn’t look like one of those kids with their disgusting bread in between their teeth. Grim.

But Sourdough breaks down all of those memory barriers for me. If you drop a bit of smashed avocado and a poached egg on top of a nice piece of white bloomer then you’re laughing. In fact I’ve just had to throw one piece out for the birds in the garden because it was slightly on the turn. You have no idea how much it pained me to break up that tiny piece of combined flour, water and salt, all for some ungrateful pigeons just to stab at it with their scabby beaks. They wouldn’t even taste the difference between sourdough and norml, boring, cheapo-expresso white bread. It’s criminal. How I long for a pigeon with more discerning taste. One that perhaps could leave me a note saying “rather grand white bloomer old boy, but I don’t suppose you have any reduced salt spreadable you could include, do you?”

I’d do it as well. All for more refined avian guests in my back garden.

But anyway, I’m digressing, because we need to focus on the Sourdough. Did you know there’s a national sourdough day? It’s on 1st April which is an unfortunate day to be celebrating it because of April Fools, but I kid you not dear friend, it exists. I wonder how you have to celebrate it? Some kind of ritual sacrifice to the god of sourdough?

He can have the pigeons in my back garden.

Anyway, off to mow down some shoppers in search of the one, true, bread of breads.

Laters.