The Traditional Rob Z Tobor End of the Year Post . . . .(well it is Now)

I know this is what I wrote last year but it is now going to be the new, New Years Eve traditional post until I forget that I have one, which may be next year or next week......

So here we are on the last day of 2014 and we all know what that means, it means folk standing out on street corners shouting and letting off fireworks hugging strangers as they pass and singing that old traditional Scottish song that no one knows the words too. But luckily most folk are a bit merry and will not be aware that instead of singing the correct words they are singing

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never mmmmm to mmmmm?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll mmmm  o' mmmm mmmm,

For auld lang syne.

which sort of shows that folk don't really know the words

Then everyone will repeat this until they get bored and spot an urban fox chasing a pigeon, where upon the masses will abandon singing Auld Lang Syne staggering about in a mad linked hands sort of dance and chase the fox shouting

I’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX MY DEAR,

IN A DUSTBIN AT IKEA

I’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX I BET,

PUT BUTTER IN HIS EAR

BUTTER IN HIS EAR MY DEAR,

PUT BUTTER IN HIS EAR

We’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX AND THEN WE’LL GET

SOME BUTTER IN HIS EAR

O yes they all know the words then

So I have left a message with the foxes to avoid large crowds of people who look happy and not to spend the night raiding the Swedish meat balls in the bins of IKEA. And don’t go anywhere near people with tubs of butter

I would like to wish everyone a jolly happy new year and if you live in the UK I believe New Years Day is due to be stormy,  not sunny like this year (was it sunny I better check)

If you do need to sing and chase urban foxes then here are the words to Auld Lang Syne rather than a foxy based one which would be a bit of a give away…..

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!

And surely I'll be mine!

And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

We twa hae run about the braes,

And pou'd the gowans fine;

But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,

Frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!

And gie's a hand o' thine!

And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

All the best for 2014.

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A Rolling Stone and a Gutter Full of Moss.

There is an old saying that goes . . . .  A rolling stone will gather no moss . . . . . Well yes, but that is a bit vague, surely it would depend on where it was rolling, how fast it was rolling, how big it is, weather conditions and all sorts of other stuff. So as a saying it is like many others I have used in my diary, rubbish. However the saying . . . . A north facing roof gutter gathers loads of moss  . . . . .  is far more to the point, particularly when used as a saying in the UK.  And can be used with some effect if you are told to get the ladder out and someone points at a gutter and says . . .      A north facing roof gutter gathers loads of moss . . .  followed by time to get up that ladder Rob and sort it ouT. So I spent part of the day clearing a very blocked gutter but it no longer has any moss in it, I have glued the moss to a large round stone which I plan to roll down a hill in front of a crowd of people and point out that a certain old saying needs to be removed from the encyclopaedia of old saying, pronto.

The Ghost Writers car is back at the garage, I was sent with him so that he would be nice to the mechanics and smile when they implied that the reason the clutch has failed again was due to a build up of moss in the moving parts, due to a period of wet weather. And of course it did not help that one of the mechanics quoted the old saying . . . A rolling Firestone Tyre . . . .  Although after my experience I was able to add that only if you don’t drive in the gutter of northern roads, which lead to much pointing and scratching of heads with the occasional knowing nod at something mechanical.

Anyway I am off drumming tonight, the last session before the end of the year so we will be summoning up the Micro God of Years ready for the big event……. I will return later (and still this year).

I have returned but I have also forgotten what I was going to add so I will go again. It appears the year is going to end in rain, but why does it end now (well at the end of tomorrow) I need to find out, because it not the most significant day of the year really. 

By the way have you ever wondered what happened exactly 

one year ago  

I did

Time and Geometry waits for no man

It is very late and I do not have much time to write because as I said it is very late so efficiency is of the upmost in order to make the best use of the time I have to write my diary entry, DAMN I appear to have got off to a rather bad start now . . . . .  Dawn (sorry DAMN) Ok to the point or it will be dawn before I get to the days events. Today’s first news appears to be that the Ghost Writers car, the one with the new clutch which has now done all of twenty miles has a problem. He is not entirely sure, but when he tried to use it this morning the new clutch failed and was doing what the old clutch did, this is not good news for the Ghost Writer who said DAMN and other stuff which is best not repeated here as this is a child friendly diary……. However when he tried it this afternoon it worked OK, this is what happened before and the key fact is that the car is freezing in the morning and warmer in the afternoon. Again this is what was happening with the old clutch . . . . How can a clutch not work when it is cold and be fine when two or three degree’s warmer. All he can do is try it in the morning and see if the same happens tomorrow.

We went to see Mrs E’s new charity shop she is manager of, and took some clothes for it and I have said I will make some Valentines Day Stuff for the window  . . . . . . First thought was to make a large robot Al Capone with huge machine guns shooting at a box of cute kittens, but I was told this is a rubbish idea. I did say it would look dead cool but I was told I was an IDIOT. Apparently there is a fine line between madness and genius according to the Ghost Writer but neither of us have found it yet, I guess the fact it is a fine line and our eye sight is a bit rubbish means it needs to be drawn a bit thicker.

I have eaten the second half of the rather yummy homemade chicken pie so that means there is no pie left. Therefore in short with no pi and a thin line we can’t see, Geometry is now just a case of clutching at straws, and even that is a problem as the clutch is not working and the straw has blown away in the wind.   

Now look at what you made me do I have run out of time . . . . . . . DAMN.

OK but at least everyone knows I ate half a pie.  . . . . . . ..  and some peas. 

OOOOOoooooo and deleted a person from the Group of Doom on FB  . . . . . 

Long arms and Geckos

We are lucky here in that life is still fairly chilled and in Christmas holiday mode, yes we are very lucky indeed what with a myriad of jolly presents and lots of food and everything going sort of to plan I am pleased to say all is well. Well I say all is well as it appears the rather interesting Steam Powered Gecko has been a bit of a pest having run about on the PC monitor for a while and has taken to eating Santa pictures. However many in the UK have been having a tricky time over Christmas with a complete lack of power so that in order to eat their Christmas dinner it needed to be wrapped in clay and cooked in a bonfire like they use to do in the old days with hedgehogs. This was in the old days when there were loads of hedgehogs and it was not regarded as bad form to eat them; things changed once the hedgehog became a cute beast in children’s books although it has not stopped their decline in numbers. Anyway to get back to the point you can’t cook a turkey in a bonfire when there is a flood, but there does seem to be a modern trend to build houses on flood plains in Britain which ruins the habit of hedgehogs and makes it impossible to cook a turkey in a bonfire (or an oven) during a flood.

The only thing useful I have done today is try old clothes on to see what can go to the charity shop, run my Mrs E in Newtown. This however has revealed that something strange is happening because I have noticed a lot of my old clothes appear to have shrunk by just sitting there in a cupboard for a long period of time. I know for sure that it is the clothes shrinking rather than me growing because of my arms; you see arms get to a certain length and then stop getting any longer, but clothes that had arms that were the right length once, now have arms that are to short. I pointed out to the others here that my arms are not growing, but everyone insisted that my arms are getting longer and I may be turning into a large ape. In fact there is a so called scientific theory that says if a man writes an infinitely number of words he eventually write the complete works of a large number of monkeys.  It also appears that arm length is directly proportional to the distance you sit from the keyboard while typing.  I have been told that one of the reasons the iphone and tablet style devices are so popular is the fact they do not have keyboards and folk believe this will avoid the risk of their arms growing in length.

I do have one question though I can’t answer and that is . . . . . If my arms are getting longer as I get older why is it getting harder to reach my feet. . . . . . This is a paradox and that is for sure…..

You will notice most of what I have written tonight is rubbish; however I am not going to let writing rubbish get in the way of completing my best selling Blockbuster Diary. 

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Boxing Day, Sparrows and Wrens

We have arrived at the end of Boxing Day here in cyberspace, I am not sure if everyone has a Boxing Day or not, but I believe it is also known as St Stephens Day where some folk dress up in old clothes, shambolic fake straw hats and wave fake wrens at passer’s by, as you would expect the day after Christmas Day.  Anyway it got to be called Boxing day more recently after everyone started turning up at the recycling skips with all the boxes that all their Christmas presents were in, before they rush off to the sales to buy more stuff in boxes.

Strangely after Christmas day where everyone gives gifts to folk so that folk have loads of stuff and are pondering where to keep all the new stuff given as gifts, many people are compelled to think I know I will rush off to the sales and buy more stuff.  The very time when the masses don’t actually need more stuff, it is a strange ritual with its origins back in the early days of mans history when this time of year was tough for us in the northern hemisphere. However back in the Neolithic days boxes were thin on the ground and generally made of stone and sales were like hens teeth, AH apparently back then hens had teeth so that saying is rubbish.

Here at home it is tradition for the family to turn up and we eat food wave arms about wear demonic wrens hats (or dog hats if you cant find a wren hat) play games such as who killed the wren with the iron bat (sorry bar) in the Library and tell stories of much interest and wisdom and then eat more food.

I think everyone had a good time and I had planned to take pictures of them all for posterity only they all said NO and who is this posterity chap anyway. Sorry but that means it is pictures of an empty table instead (very exciting).

They have all gone home now and we have just said farewell to Santa who has also just left (no he really did, heading off in his sleigh in the direction of North), although he said he plans to turn up next year with a fresh supply of wrens. . . . . .

Talking of wrens I am getting a little annoyed by a sparrow hawk that keeps nicking the local sparrows, we have a good flock of sparrows here or we did until this critter turned up. Nature as I have said many times before is not nice I may be forced to make the Micro God of Sparrows and possibly Wrens too. 

      

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The shock of Santa and the Elf and Plagiarism

Here we are on Christmas Eve

When Santa he rolls up his sleeve

And checks the sleigh

The reindeer too

So many things he has to do

And if he’s hungry he eats an Elf

And checks the presents on the shelf

And gets his coat out

And cleans his boots

And . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Hang on a bit . . . EATS an ELF

 What is going on here then no one told me Santa eats Elves that’s not nice. All that Ho Ho Ho smiling and being friendly and underneath the Mr Nice Guy exterior is an Elf Eater…. Well if that’s the case it is time to do something about it.

No wonder Santa keeps singing that jingle  . . . . . .An Elf a Day helps your Work, Rest and Sleigh . . . . and complaining about plagiarism   

So to save the Elves . . . . . Christmas is now officially BANNED ... Sorry everyone but it’s the only way.

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Edgar Allan Poe vs Christmas . . . . A poem of Christmas cheer (AH. . .Well)

The Ravens as they headed home tonight in the sunset

Once upon a Christmas Eve dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore’s.

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chambers doors.

'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, is it the curse of Santa Claws.

Marching severed hands oozing sweat from their pores.

The constant scratching and demonic clip clop of cloven hoofs on my slated roof.

A demonic Red Nosed Reindeer loosening roof slates by the Score.

And while I’m Knotting and neatly Wrapping presents, there is still a tapping.

It must be the curse of Santa Claws the cursed hoards rapping rapping at my chambers doors.

But what if it is a friendly visitor entreating entrance at my chambers doors.

Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas I can hear. It is the cursed multitude of SANTA CLAWS.

Shouting shouting out into the night.

Poe Poe Poe . . . .  Merry Christmas.

HA HAH HA HHAH HAH AH HAH HAH HAH AHhah ah ah ha ha aha ha ha haha hah ah ahah hahah ah ha ha ha hahah 

Thanks to Mr ESB for his comment last night which planted the seeds of an idea . . . 

.

Santa and the Wolf . . . . . (more poetry from Rob Z Tobor)

Santa he is big and Round

Lives in a cave deep Underground

But each Halloween he snarls and bears his Pointy Teeth

And Howls with the Wolves on the Heath

AH . . . . . Mum says that is not Santa but Uncle Fred, and its time I knew the truth. . . . . . . .  

The diary, the Turkey and the Christmas presents

Hello all I am here with a diary entry as it has been a few days since I told you all the news, but as it has been a few days I have forgotten most of what happened. You see this was one of the main reasons for starting this diary in the first place, and one of the reasons I write it most nights. So now I am going to have to remember sort of what has happened.

I do know that we took Miss Jane from one place to another place and one of those places was home as Mr Charlie had gone to France to do important things. Then other stuff happened like………………. It has been windy and wet, seriously windy and wet round here and some of the trellis that was put up in the summer started to lean a bit so is now secured with a couple of props. You can’t beat a bit of triangulation to stop a thing blowing over in the wind, it is rather windy yet again.

Mr P who had been in hospital for an entire year finally made it home and he gave us a ring to say he was home and everything finally worked; that is in his house not in him, as bits of Mr P do not entirely work as designed by nature, or as some would have it, the Micro God of human bits. In fact a Christmas card from Mr P arrived this morning.

I have also finished my Christmas shopping; I always have serious problems Christmas shopping because I buy things and then hide them so folk will not find them, but then forget what I have bought and where they are hidden. Or worse still entirely forget I have bought them which is fine until you find a present for someone in June wrapped in snowmen paper  with Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas written on it . . . . And I am serious about this I have done it more than once.

I have done loads of other stuff but I can’t remember what so that will have to be that. . . . . .     OOOOOoooooo yes, just to say the Ghost Writer got his car back yesterday and it had to have a new clutch and stuff, well that sounds expensive I am glad I don’t have to pay for it . . . . . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN apparently I do, it appears that he says it is due to excessive ghost writing due to me rambling on about stuff no one is interested in like the three headed Seagull I chased away from the pond the other day or was it a Heron. I can remember but it did have three heads, or was it three legs

Oooooo I also saw a frog the other night too

I will now end with another Christmas Poem to cheer you all up

The Christmas Turkey has dug a tunnel

To avoid its terrible Fate

That goes under the perimeter fence

And under Bernard’s Gate

But the Turkey is a greedy bird

And now a huge big Beast

And will not fit into the hole it made

So will be our Christmas Feast

YUM

HAH HAHAHHAHHAH AH HAH AHHAH AH HAHHAH AH HA ha hah ah ha ha ha ha ha ha  

   

And finally Hello Charles and Quentin at GCHQ, you have done it again chaps, made the news yet again; I notice I don’t get a mention on the BBC typical and me your friendliest snooped upon cyber-person, there is no justice. 

Santa is a Zombie . . . . (the Poetry of Rob Z Tobor)

Santa is a Zombie

Or so it has been said

He went to bed for a nap

And woke up a bit Un-Dead

So when he sneaks down your chimney

Or through your sewage drains

He will not want mulled wine or pies

He wants to eat your Brains

And when you wake up on Christmas Day

As one of the Un-Dead

You will find your wearing stockings

And a pointy hat that’s RED……..

AH HAH HA Hahah ah ah ah ha hahah hahah ha hah ah ah ahha hah ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ahh ha ha ha ha ha hah

The Addman Interview (The Pre Ebook Pre lunch (sorry launch) Interview . . . . .

Welcome to the Addman Interview (part one), an in depth interview by me ROB Z TOBOR of fellow blogger Mr Addman about Life the Universe and Everything, getting the answers to the questions that we all need to know. Questions like who is this masked crusader AH I forgot to ask that question, but I have asked loads of questions and he has responded with loads of answers. Well I hope so as this is a cyber interview, not an eyeball to eyeball interview, so if he has not responded then this interview is rubbish.  Although I can make up answers if I need to (only kidding Mr Addman) . . . . . . . . . Phew got away with that one.

Qu 1                 Well Mr Addman here we are and many of my readers will be keen to hear about your forthcoming efforts to produce your very own Ewok. With all this talk of a new Star Wars film I can see why you have decided to do this, a clever move indeed.

I'm glad you think so.  I first had the idea when I witnessed an explosion that happened in a wig factory.  The resulting hairs blew all over a group of passing school children, and it was then that I realised there was a small, hairy gap in the market.  Unfortunately, the adoption agency wouldn't give me enough children to start my Ewok production line, so I decided to release an Ebook instead.  

Qu 2                 So what you are telling me is that you are not producing an Ewok, not even a small Ewok.  I think you may have to explain yourself. This so called Ebook thing of which you talk I assume it is not a cute hairy thing from a Star Wars film. So what is it then. . . . . 

An Ebook is pretty much the opposite of an Ewok.  They are furless, comprehensible, and have never brought down an evil empire.

My particular Ebook is called Muppets For Justice.  It is a collection of posts from my long-running Blog of the same name, plus a lot of bonus new stuff written specially for the book.  It's roughly 50% new content.  I consider it to be a Greatest Hits album, but with loads of bonus tracks and b-sides that people won't have seen before.

Qu3                  I think you need to explain more about the metaphysical aspects of your work; the deep underlying urges that have brought you to conceive your plan and give us a little glimpse of the real Addman, the one hiding behind that frail façade of hate lust and cold soup.

I would love to talk to you about my deep, underlying urges, but that might frighten off any potential readers.  I don't know about the metaphysical aspects of my work.  It's just there to entertain and hopefully make you laugh.  It is a series of short comedic articles with no real agenda or over arching theme, and most of them are completely unrelated to each other.  It's perfect to pick up and read in short bursts.

 Qu4                  There is an old saying . . . . Not for the Faint Hearted  . . . . Well to me this is a silly saying, lets face it if your heart did faint it would be called a heart attack and you would be rushed off to hospital proto, sayings like this should be banned from this interview. Bearing this in mind Mr Addman are there any questions you do not wish me to ask you . . . . .

Well I'm a bit nervous of questions about my heart now.  In fact, I feel a panic attack coming on.  Open a window or something!  Get me a hot towel!

Qu5                  Well having thought about your answers so far I note you have a Faint Heart when I thought we agreed about not discussing it further, with that in mind I think we should discuss this Hot Towel. Is it one you have stolen yourself or is it one you bought cheap from a man in a pub who knew a man who stole it from a bathroom in a wig factory.

Wait, we're discussing a towel now? This is a papparazzi style invasion of my privacy. Do you want to know the colour of my cream towels? What about the zig zag pattern on them? I will never tell. My towels didn't ask to be part of the limelight and I will keep them separate from my public life, thank you.

Qu6                  Your blog although rather good does sometimes use rude words and discuss naughty things and for a young middle class eccentric like myself I am forced to shut my eyes while I read it. Will your new Ebook contain naughty things and naughty words? You may be interested to know the lack of anything naughty in my blog has made it one of the least read blogs in the world, but it is child friendly although they don’t understand it, silly children.

I'm afraid that the Ebook will contain several naughty words and themes. I try not to be needlessly vulgar and try to mainly use strong language purely for comic effect rather than distaste. I hope I get the balance right.

Hmm, that makes the Ebook sound like it's just a few hundred pages of filth. There's a lot of optimistic topics in there too. In fact, there is an entire section on the wonders of cuddling, so there's a whole spectrum in there.

Qu7                  To be serious for a bit I notice you have blogged for some time now Mr Addman, do you have any advice for those new to blogging some inspired words that will keep them going where thousands have said sod it I’m off to the pub and abandoned their blog for ever. (NO blogging in the pub is not allowed as an answer).

Without wanting to sound like I'm some sort of social media guru, one of the biggest parts of Blogging is building a community for yourself. Find a group of Blogs you enjoy reading, contribute and leave them comments, and some of those people will reciprocate. Also, try and stick to a regular, acheiveable schedule. Unless you're a superhuman (like you Mr Rob), don't expect to be able to Blog every single day.

Qu8                  You have also experimented with Pod Casts, there is an old saying (from the bible I think) that goes . . . . He who Pod casts the first Stoat shall ferret about in rubbish bins and pass through the eye of a camel . . . . .  I was wondering do you have any old sayings that you hold dear to your heart. Sorry I mentioned that dodgy heart of yours again.

Sayings that I hold dear? My Nan always used to say "never shave your legs on a Tuesday", although I've yet to experience a situation in which it has proved useful.

I am actually partial to the saying "only a true wit can play a convincing fool". If that's the case, I strive to look like the biggest idiot to ever grace the Internet.

Qu9                  What inspired you to start a blog, and does this new adventure mean you have grand plans, something cunning and devilish that will astound us all with its brilliance and yet simple genius. Something that will bring gasps of amazement and make folks hearts pound (AH DAMN sorry I mentioned pounding hearts  . . . . Sorry).

I started Blogging to practice my writing. It started as a sketchpad for me to try out new ideas. I'm releasing the Ebook because I think it has blossomed into something bigger. I'm proud of Muppets For Justice and I want to show it off. Also, this is a good test to see what self publishing an Ebook is all about. In the future, I may publish a bigger project such as a novel, who knows?

Qu10                WHY WHY WHY do you eat Jammie Dodgers Mr Addman WHY???????

Because they have hearts on them. Argh, now I'm mentioning hearts again! Ack! 

Well thank you Mr Addman I had at one point planned to ask many more questions but looking at what we have done between us I have to say I think it is an excellent interview and I am pleased it has gone so well.  We have really got at the heart of the matter (DAMN I mentioned that word again).  Before I entirely rewrite your answers (HAH HAH AHHAH HAH HAH HAH HAH Hha ha ha ha ha ha ha) I wonder if you would like to add a few final words, Maybe you have a date you hope to get your Ebook published by, although I am sure we will hear more from you as things progress.  I wish you luck and will leave you the final word (I of course will not restrict you to the one word), once again many thanks for taking part.

The Ebook is scheduled to go up on the 3rd of January, and will be available in all good retailers, provided that retailer is Amazon.

I've thought long and hard about the final word, and I've decided that "bus" might be a suitable one to end on.  It's a very nice word if you say it often enough.  Anyway, thanks for the opportunity, and I'll leave you with bus.

Well Mr Addman I had planned to finish with your final word but it has given me the opportunity to say . . . . . . . You wait for a bus for ages and a whole load of them all turn up at once.

Bus Bus Bus Bus Bus Bus Bus Bus Bus . . . . . . . . . HAH HAH AH HAH HAH AH HAHHAH AH HA HA HHAH hah ah ha hah ah ha hah ah ha hahah ha haha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Bus. . 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Muppets for Justice Blog is available at the following link please have a read, After all there are millions of blogs out there and it is good to work together as a small flock. Which allows us, like a flock of crows to raid the farmers field and eat all his corn…….

MUPPETS FOR JUSTICE

Please note this is my first collaborative effort and interview on this blog, but I am happy to interview other folk in a similar fashion should you feel a desire to be interviewed by me, bearing in mind I am a bit rubbish at it.

Christmas Rooms and the achievement of not achieving great things

Mrs E and Mr S called in today to say hello and collect some things and I ate food and drank tea, in fact looking back on the day as a whole I think I did not achieve a great deal, something that I appear to be very good at. I am sure someone once told me that if you find something you are good at it is best to pursue it and get even better at in. However being good at not achieving is not seen as an achievement by the masses who will throw rocks and pointy sticks at me and my fellow non achievers as we achieve our goal of non achievement.  Luckily few of the rocks and pointy sticks ever hit us as those throwing them fail to achieve the satisfaction of hitting their target, proving that they too would be far better pursuing a life of non achievement too, after all it is one of the great truths of life that non achievement is a goal that can be achieved by all, we all have things we cant do and this makes us all equal and that is a truly great achievement . . . . . . .DAMN  that was not meant to happen…….

 I sprayed a bit more green on a thing today and put up a few more Christmas lights and sort of avoided the funeral of Nelson Mandela. I know that sounds rotten as he was a great chap and did much for South Africa and his people, but he did his bit and kept faith over the years fighting his cause. I do wonder as he was a modest chap whether he would have preferred to have a quiet funeral with a few friends and family without all the hype of the media companies chasing him to the grave. You can’t help but wonder if he will become a tourist attraction like Elvis as various folk look to make money one way or another. This you see is the down side of being one of the world’s great achievers, something us great non achievers manage to avoid, which many of us think of as a great achievement, which just goes to show the world is full of paradox’s and Elvis impersonators.

Christmas is getting closer. . . . . So things sneak out from the attic.....

Today was an interesting day because it was windy here seriously windy with stuff blowing all over the place and the house and the trees getting a good old battering (not as in a fish supper). That is fair enough there have been a couple of storms lately, and so far we have been lucky and missed the worst of them, only there was no talk of storms today on the BBC weather so it was a bit of a surprise. I think because we are sort of out in the sticks means the fact it was windy enough to blow the cat off into the distance, which it was not happy about, so is now hiding in a box next to the Christmas tree is not news of interest to the masses. I bet if it was the queen’s cat or even the queen that was blown off into the distance it would be an entirely different story.

Did you notice a certain two words in that last paragraph  . . . .Christmas Tree . . . . . Yes it is that time of year again; we got the Christmas tree out again, and yes we have a fake tree but it looks real enough and it is overall far more eco friendly than having a real one. No it really is, after many years of buying trees with roots on and planting them outside afterwards we discovered that they really hate being inside and have a habit of sulking for the next twenty years, and anyway most folk buy trees with no roots which sort of die.

Sorry I will try to get better pictures tomorrow

So today we decorated the Christmas tree and remade the home-made Christmas Chandelier, something I think everyone should make. On advantage in doing this today was that there was no need to venture out into the wild winds too far although I was sent off to hunt for the fairy lights (we have loads of them) as they were in a safe place in the garage. I am not sure it was that safe in the garage at the time of looking for them as it was a bit bouncy, still the wind has subsided a bit now and I am about to go off and eat food. Actually although I have written this before I eat my tea I will be posting after I finish eating so as far as you lot are concerned I have eaten, Hake and spicy potato wedges . . . . . YUM which returns me right back to where I started with the wind battering the house….. So I will go.

As it happens when I said I will go . . . .  that was ages ago now, but I really am going now….

I am

The Christmas Jumper, the News, and the World

I was watching the news on the BBC a bit earlier in order to be up to date with what is happening in the world. I am not entirely convinced that we actually get to know exactly what happens in the world because news is only news if the various media companies decide it is news worthy. This would explain why a bunch of Zombies protesting outside the local college today chanting WHAT DO WE WANT . . . . . . . MORE BRAINS . . . . . . . . . . WHEN DO WE WANT THEM  . . . . . . .NOW while the college principle tries to explain that the colleges slogan of  . . . . . We have some of the Best Brains in the Country does not refer to the student canteen; is in fact not a  news worthy story. Those Media companies can see no legs in it . . . This does not mean there are no legs in brains (AH YES there are no legs in brains), it refers to a story that might run for a bit and keep the punters interested. . . . You see the link legs and run.

Anyway what I was heading towards before you lot distracted me yet again with your thoughts on what I am typing was the fact that on the news there was a story saying that the Christmas Jumper; you know the things, Santa or a Reindeer on a sledge eating elf brains while a Zombie Snowman looks on in horror realizing his dinner has been stolen from under his very nose (a carrot carved to look like the Eiffel tower) with a small child setting fire to a Christmas tree in the background and a hardy fisherman repairing his nets that are being destroyed by a large Sea Serpent called Sven on the back in fluorescent  double knit wool in tweed colours.

Hang on where was I . . . . . . AH Yes  it appears the big Christmas present this year is the Christmas Jumper and it is plainly clear why that is. You see here in the decadent West everybody now has everything, leaving almost nothing for folk to get other folk for Christmas . . . . Well almost nothing, you see the one thing no one actually has is a terrible Christmas Jumper like granny would knit back in the old days, a time when there was still loads of stuff to buy folk for Christmas, before everyone had everything.

 For a short while we use to buy folk a goat in Africa or bees in India or adopt a frog in Brazil but the thing is we cant unwrap them on Christmas day, so the idea never really caught on, as I have already said we are the decadent west and we need our bling (or Christmas Jumper as it is known this year).

All I am worried about is what happens next year YICKS.

Oooo I sprayed a thing green today and wraped a Christmas present (not a jumper) and ate some cheese and in a very short time will be heading off to the Indian Restaurant . . . 

Careers, Monsters and Master Chef

As the slightly eccentric child of cyberspace today was the day when I had to face the School careers officer (again possibly, but it was a long time ago) where he was asking us all what our plans were for the future.  I told him of my cyber diary and my life as a blogging diarist and said that I planned to live on the royalties from the film rights when that nice Steven Spielberg finally gives in and makes the block buster movie. Lets face it if they can make three films out of a grumpy Hobbit then quite frankly those film producers should be queuing up on mass to get hold of the film rights to me.

Once the careers officer stopped rolling about on the floor in hysterics he said I needed a plan B as plan A was rubbish (DAMN). But I did remember that the Ghost Writer has always said that to get any unemployment benefit you have to leap through all kinds of hoops these days, so in order to be prepared for this as us young folk (don’t snigger) stand no chance of finding jobs, I said I would become a contortionist. It makes sense because it will be dead easy to get through any sort of hoop then, however the careers officer said both I and the Ghost Writer were IDIOTS and I should consider Plan C. Some folk are never satisfied.   

Plan C is easy as I can fall back on the old family business of spying starting as a straight forward spy, but once I have the hang of that, become a double agent as it is far more exciting and involves spy rocks, meeting with incognito sort of people in incognito sort of places and saying My seagull has eaten your friends Pekinese, I will call a taxi.   The advantage of a career as a spy is that working undercover means you get to do all sorts of things and apparently if you say you are a spy if you have to sign on as unemployed, and you are working undercover as an unemployed person they get all confused and leave you alone. Particularly if you then say My table has been taken by a walrus I will eat your hat for breakfast tomorrow.

It was at this point the careers officer told me to go away and asked to see the next pupil who as it turned out was Esmeralda who said she was planning to become an anarchist. I don’t think that the career officer realized that Esmeralda is an Anarchist already (it is a vocation rather than a career you see). Well he didn’t but does now and once he recovers he will not be asking anyone else for a Plan B.

Freddie says he plans to be entrepreneurial and make a fortune with his performing ferrets who I must admit are well cool tap dancers and fire eaters although sadly he never made it to see the careers officer.

In other news I ate bacon and glued panels onto a wall, a kitchen wall using glue and used a jigsaw (the cutting thing not the assembly thing)….

And I watched the final of Master Chef  . . . . . . Yes yes yes I know but we all need to chill . . . . . . . I don’t think the right one won myself but that is just me……….