We have reached the END again . . . . (Volume Four)

We have reached the end of Volume Four of the Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor and all I can say is it has not gone well.  Many of the main characters have vanished and it has sort of metamorphosed into me rambling even more than ever.

Ironically while on the subject of metamorphosed I was attacked only a few minutes ago by a Vampire Moth which was trying to suck the blood out of my hand. Luckily my hand was slightly protected by a sweet sticky coating, the result of eating gooey cake. This gave me time to take the moth outside and put him on a solar light to confuse him, allowing me time to get back in and lock the patio door before he turned up with all his mates. No one wants to be attacked by Vampire Moths.

Anyway as I have said already this is the END of, The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor (volume four) and so I thought I should go and hunt for the ant that brought about the end of volume one, two and three, again I did not find it so I am now sat on the patio pondering the grand finale . . . .  Ooooooo guess what a small ant has wandered across the patio and it appears to have found a small red button saying DO NOT PRESS. This sounds very very very familiar, ants are curious creatures so I think he is going to try and press the button  . . . . . . ..

OH No he is not going to get away with it this time I will stop him by putting my foot on the button so he can't press it. . . . . AH DAMN I think I may have been a bit enthusiastic doing that . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Professor Brian Cox, the Muddy hole and the Haynes Zombie Survival Owners Manual

As yesterday was my birthday it means that today I am an entire year older than I was yesterday, now that’s a lot but its OK because as we all know now by eating Bacon Butty’s I have proved conclusively that I will live to the approximate age of 3489.2 years old.  OK it may not be conclusive because lots of folk here have said my maths was rubbish and it was like trying to understand Einstein written in Chinese backwards while riding a unicycle blindfolded. 

As a special Birthday treat I have been allowed outside to dig holes and hunt for Zombies, this is always a good way to pass the day, sliding down the muddy banks while some sort of monster or the like snarls at you. All I can say is never enter a muddy hole without a pointy stick, interestingly this is not  a useful tip I have seen in the Haynes Zombie Survival  Owners Manual (a grand book) that I received yesterday as a present from Mr F.  I have a feeling the reason it is not mentioned may be to do with the fact I spend more time in muddy holes that the average chap. It was never my intention in life for this to happen, but life is like that, you look into the future, see a mountain to climb, set off on your quest head help high full of ambition and enthusiasm and then all of a sudden you slip into a muddy hole.  Anyway I quite like them now they are bright warm cosy places (sorry I mean cold dark wet places), a small and interesting mini world of things (worms).

While I was sliding about in the muddy hole fending off Zombies and the like I noticed that in real life Zombies are a little less stereotypical in appearance than many publications would have you believe.  And I am still not sure if the one with a bolt through his neck was a Zombie or not, but he was definitely not friendly and said he wanted to eat Brian’s. . . so I was able to send him on his way a bit confused, but happy with the instructions to get to Brian’s house. I sent him to see that nice Professor Brian Cox, he is always doing experiments with electricity and the like on folk. I’m sure he will be interested in a chap (monster) with his head held on with a bolt. . . . . . . . . 

  

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The all seeing eye of Mr Google. . . . . .

It has been a busy sort of day in cyberspace and means my diary not been written today. WHY I hear some of you say, although many others will be aware as I do pop up all over the place in cyberspace at times. Well as you will notice from the picture today has been my birthday, in fact it is also the birthday of the Ghost Writer and his is bitter and twisted because he has to watch Google telling me it is my birthday also. But is this good, I am not entirely sure I like the fact Google tells me its my birthday or that the cat wants more food or that the Zombies have been active in the woods today (they have as it happens. . . very noisy).

I have received many useful presents and I will discuss all this more another time as it is getting late and very soon it will no longer be my birthday, so sadly it is time to go again. I'm sure it is not meant to rain on one's birthday but this is Britain and the law of averages would suggest that in most cases it will rain on your birthday 99%.of the time . . . just as well we only have the one birthday a year (unless you are the queen then you get two). . .  

Oooooo yes Happy Birthday Ghost Writer  

The incredible health benefits of the Bacon Butty (the New Superfood)

It appears that the humble Bacon Butty is extremely good for you, not something I was expecting to learn as folk tend to say that they are bad. In general over the years what I have discovered is that almost any food that tastes really good, folk always say is bad for you. This can not be right, just look at nature, in nature birds, bears, rabbits, hedgehogs, snakes, in fact almost every other creature on the planet eats what it likes and does extremely well. This is how nature works life is programmed to eat the food we need by making it taste desirable, there is a simple and understandable logic to this if any critter is to thrive in the environment it lives in.

And this brings me back to the simple and humble but rather delicious Bacon Butty, you see I tend to eat a couple of these a week. I would eat more but I am not allowed so I make the most of the ones I have.  Now here in Britain there was some chap on the television who said that eating processed meat was not good for you and that eating a Bacon Butty meant you lived an hour less.

The thing is last week I had two Bacon Butty’s and at the end of the week someone said that as a result my life had reduced by two hours.  But I thought to myself . . . . Hang on I have been alive for the entire week and instead of my life reducing by a week it is only two hours shorter than it was at the start. That means if I eat two Bacon Butty’s every week it will take twelve weeks to reduce my life by 24 hours so a year is equal to 12 X 365 (weeks) or roughly 84 years. And as I have planned to be about for another forty years at least it means that I will in fact reach the staggering age of 3430 years old. Well that is amazing and it just proves that Bacon is jolly good for you and we should all eat more of it.  

Of course if any pigs are reading this I would just like to say it is not my fault, it is not good to evolve into a creature that makes such nice sandwiches and that extends our lives by more than three thousand years

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The Latest trend in Selfies . . . .The Shelfie

Are you fed up with all those selfies that folk insist on sticking all over the internet well now is you chance to get in early and help create a new trend the up and coming new and far more exciting SHELFIE 

Yes with the help of an IKEA shelf unit and a wood saw I give you my first Shelfie

AH DAMN I have a wobbly IKEA shelf unit now.   

Sir Richard Attenborough. The Creature from the Black Lagoon and the Loss of a Library

Sadly Sir Richard Attenborough died yesterday just before his ninety first birthday and although sad one has to say 91 is not a bad age to get too. He was rather famous but I can’t help but think that some folk are going to get him confused, because folk are not always as well informed about stuff as they should be. In order to alleviate this possible error I would just like to say I was really impressed when he did that documentary where he got to sit with all those Gorillas in the Jurassic Park out in Borneo or the like. He even once taught a Phoenix to fly, how cool is that.

And who could forget his directing in the film Gandalf, where the peaceful wizard leads his people to freedom despite the terrible ways of the Imperialists led by the terrible Darth Vader or was it Queen Victoria?

But my own personal favourite was his appearance as the Creature from the Black Lagoon in The Great Escape, Just for a short time I thought he had the German guards fooled too.

In other news the office is not the office (thats at home not work) any longer what was the library is now the office and we no longer have a library.  And what was the office is now an empty room with some stuff in it that has not been moved yet.

Ooooo and I have been playing drums to scare the grey and rain away, it might work who can tell.  

The UFO. The Mushrooms. The Sofa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and no Steven Spielberg.

I have removed half his name to protect the innocent 

Things can get very strange round this part of the world and that’s for sure, as I was about to type my diary entry for the day a faint bleep started up, not often but every five minutes or so. And it has varied in tone two or three times now. I have checked mobile phones and to be sure it is not them they are now with me as I type. . . . Say hello phones. . . HELLO. . .  What makes this a bit odd is that I have just taken a picture of a headline in the local newspaper, remember the last one I took was of the dancing sheep. Anyway the headline is  . . .  UFO SWERVES OVER POWYS . . .  so could it be they are closer than I think. . . . . .WELL COOL.

Last night we went off to the Indian in Monty, the food is usually really good but for some reason things did not really go that well and food had to be sent back to be heated and no one likes a chewy After Eight Mint (OK I quite like chewy after eight mints . . . . a bit sort of). And all in all they did not seem themselves. In the light of the headlines in the local newspaper and the strange bleeping maybe they were not themselves at all, but ALIENS. . . . WELL COOL (AGAIN). . . .

Interestingly we had battered mushrooms tonight with chilli sauce and rice because friends locally had been out in one of the fields where they said there were hundreds of mushrooms which had formed a large bizarre shape in the field. They ended up with so many that they have supplied most of the village with them.

Oooooo yes yesterday I moved a sofa, it is all part of a grand master plan to clear enough room to make a large model of a mountain, OK an extinct volcano with a secret route up to the top. Well it is one of those things we all need to do sometime . . . . . . . . .

And that bleep has vanished and I still don’t know what it was.  Where is that nice Steven Spielberg when you need him . . . .?      

Politics and Religion and the Islamic State

Every now and again I get all serious and have a little rant about the world and its weaknesses and today is one of these days.  As we know an American photojournalist became the victim of what was called revenge by the people that killed him, who are part of the so called Islamic State.  What this has done is highlight the barbaric nature of what the group say is a religious quest for their own state.  However by saying that the death of the American was revenge says much. Revenge is not high on his list of aspirations for mankind by any god even a strict Sunni Muslin one I suspect.

I am no expert on religion but the most successful ones are those that have tolerance of others fairly high up the list, and I have long said that in my own opinion the world of Micro Gods offers the best option to a better world. The Sunni jihadists of the so called Islamic State are probably the least tolerant bunch of them all.  I suspect in the end the total lack of compassion and tolerance will be their downfall.  It amazes me that they have been able to get  funding,  but the general opinion appears to be that it comes from some of the Sunni ruled gulf states who are playing tactics with the Shia Muslim ruled Countries.  This in turn has just helped to further destabilise most of the Middle East, and as I have said before these events can not be managed they are subject to the principles of Chaos theory.  The West itself has found that out when intervention in these countries has only made the situation more complex and more violent.

It appears as far as I can tell that the Sunni jihadists of the so called Islamic State are very likely the puppets of people with their own political agenda using the religious fanaticism of this group for their own political ends. It is just very sad that the feelings and lives of the ordinary people are lost, and a man who did his bit to help the ordinary folk of this region is killed in revenge or as I suspect more in a case of spitefulness. The only thing I can hope is none of those involved in the financing or fighting of this group will ever meet their Gods.  In fact I'm fairly confident they will not.

So what is the solution, well to tell the truth I have absolutely no idea? . . . . . .But the world would be so much better if everyone showed some respect for their fellow man and tolerated the views and ideas of others.    

Sun, Showers and Grumpy Cats

Today much like the last two or three days has seen many many showers most of which have been quite heavy, but it has been lovely and sunny in between the showers. This is not great as it makes it difficult to get out and do things such as hunt Zombies and the like neither Zombies or myself like to keep getting wet when we attempt to venture outside. 

Still I am better with the weather than Heavy Harry the Cat who loves the sun and hates rain and cold. Heavy Harry gets depressed when it is cold and wet and will attack us the other cat and anything in his way and demands food until the sun comes out. This has resulted in him lying in the sun looking content until the next shower when he suddenly gets in a grump trips us up demands food and threatens to kill us. But the weather has been such that by the time he has eaten his food the sun has come out again and so he rushes off and lies in the sun again until the next shower. It is worse than fighting Zombies; they are far more predictable than cats. . . And I have noticed from more than one source in cyberspace that it appears cats may have mastered the use of laser beans (sorry beams), I can think of nothing more dangerous than a grumpy cat with a laser beam.

Anyway I finally got rid of him by letting him sleep in the car although it means no one can use the car now until he gets up and stomps about a bit in a strop waiting for more food.

I did not do a great deal today myself much like yesterday but I did manage a fit a curvy bit of wood to the wall in our utility rooms utility room, yes we sort of have a utility room for our utility room, its a funny house (Bungalow).

What is always odd is now even when you don’t achieve huge amounts you still run out of time to do it. Time is not friend, I have a feeling that time should not be linked to the movement of stuff and should be based on something else entirely.

I wonder what the speed of thought is. . . . . . Apparently twenty to thirty milliseconds. . . . . . 

The IDIOTS Timeline of scientific discovery and a piano.

With a quiet day to write about I think it might be best to skip the basic details about sharpening axes, doing a little IT and pointing at the piano and saying those white keys are called notes and those pedals are the accelerator and brake. It appears most pianos are Automatics; well actually they are not only the electronic ones are in general, allowing you to get on with other stuff as they play away to their hearts content. It makes practicing so much easier. 

All this is a distraction because it was a quiet day and I have decided to consider the bigger picture of things or Science or in particular the frontiers of science.  Yes the frontiers of science do not progress in a linear way they sort of make sudden little skips and then fizzle out for a bit and then skip forward again. History shows us many of these little leaps and I think we should look closely at them.

Step one . . . . . . . Tools (3 million years ago)

This is where man parted from the other critters on the planet he started to use tools such as clubs, pointy things like sticks knifes and axes.  This was a seriously major step we still use all these tools to this day.

 Step two . . . . . . Boats (10,000 years)

Folk forget about boats but man would never have colonized the entire world without boats and they are still a key part of the global economy

Step three . . . . . . . Wheels (7 thousand years ago)

Man has always liked to move big heavy things about and it started with rollers and ropes but then some bright spark fixed the roller to the heavy thing and created transport. Where would we be today without transport, it is the backbone of almost everything.

Step four . . . . . .  Smelting (6 thousand years ago)

Yes the production of metals such as iron and Bronze are so critical to mankind that we even have an Iron Age and a Bronze Age and yet again without metals modern life would not exist.

Step five . . . . . . . Engines (1698)

The invention of the steam engine meant that us humans could do loads of stuff more than we could ever do by hand or using animals or slaves without the steam engine the industrial revolution would not have happened.  The steam engine sort of lead to the oil based engine and allowed us to make transport that could go anywhere.

Step six . . . . . . . . Electricity (1800)

Electricity took a while to get going but just look what happens when we have a power cut. . . . . Enough said.

Step Seven . . . . . . Electronics (1950)

This has led to the computer, the internet, my blog and all sorts of clever stuff as long as we still have electricity.

So that’s it that is everything covered and shows the key steps man has taken in the last three million years or so, If you think I have missed something important please let me know

Pianos, up-cycling, Skip Diving, trendy city folk and Kristy Allsop

OK I can't draw piano players or piano's (its a time thing) 

Today was a quietish day except for one thing. You see here in Britain among the trendy city folk it is very popular to go scurrying off hunting down the rubbish of others and leaping into Skips (Skip Diving) finding old battered stuff.  Then with your pile of old battered stuff you do a bit of rubbing down and painting and a quick change of use such as that old bicycle wheel becomes a useful lamp shade.  You can then set up a stall down the market and sell your up-cycled items for loads of money or show them off at a  posh dinner party as your guests struggle to drink champagne from the modified old Chrome hub caps from a 1953 Morris Minor (Chrome Hub Caps, those were the days).

Even television in recent years has taken to this idea with much gusto with all shorts of shows where folk such as Kristy Allsop (who is OK I think) make sheds,  decorate homes and stuff out of old stuff. Although sometimes on the TV I feel they cheat, when someone says we found this old submarine periscope and grandfather clock in a skip, you just know things are going on that we are not being told about. This is the way of television no one wants to watch a chap make a model seagull out of a broken damp and mouldy chipboard shelf from a 25 year old bookcase that is knackered.

Of course us folk who live in the Country have rather mixed views about all this, some think these city folk are Idiots . . . .  I’ve got a whole barn of old rubbish if the want to buy it. And then there are those of us who have spent most of our lives picking up free stuff and using it for one thing or another and we tend to call it scavenging and folk look at us and say . .  He’s as tight as a ducks ****** . . . .   No one sees it as trendy up-cycling.

Which sort of brings us back to today and the arrival of a Piano from Chris and Chris, which was abandoned in a carport for a short while as the house it has been in is being sold. Luckily the piano is in fairly good condition and it’s main issue is it is a bit sun bleached as it has been in a sunny location for many a happy year.  Anyway it is a C. Bechstein piano (and an old one I think) so it’s one of the better makes, and it almost certainly will need the magic hands of our good friend Mr Ian the Musical Hat Maker to come and tune it at some time.  

Now you may be wondering what we plan to up-cycle this into, well our plan it to turn it into a piano and leave it exactly as it is.  I know us country folk are fools . . . . . 

A look back to events three years ago. . . .Things change

Today I have managed to draw a picture but have not had time to write a single word for the blog so to get round this terrible event I have decided to repost the events from my diary from the 16th August 2011. A time when it was not read much and I still lived with the Dream that the very nice Steven Spielberg might turn up. This was before the very nice Steven Spielberg dashed my hopes against the sharp rocks of disappointment and stabbed me with the pointy sticks of failure and obscurity.  . . . . . . It's OK I bounce back everytime much to the annoyance of the very nice Steven Spielberg.

It has been one of those non days yet again this is not good near the end of book one. But it’s what happens in real life, it has moments like that. Quite a lot of moments like that as it happens. One thing I have learnt from the Ghost Writer is that exciting lives are not exciting all the time and some perceived exciting lives are actually somewhat pedestrian. Particularly if you are in fact a pedestrian.

Mercedes has spent the day in the woods leading a protest group against Jims filming. The group which mainly consists of a rag-tag collection of slightly uninteresting mammals are demanding equal rights in the docu-film and say it is unfair that the vast majority of their appearances so far have been as dinner for something a bit bigger; or more interesting.  She has been a little disappointed so far by the lemmings who she said seem to follow anything and who stupidly followed a rock over the edge of the cliff face. Jim said if was great action movie material all the little lemming clutching their protest banners and screaming as they fell into the abyss. Which was entirely the opposite effect of what Mercedes wanted?

 Mum has explained to Mercedes that left wing politics is full of such dilemmas and the idealist principles of left wing philosophy always go wrong for some reason, history is full of such events from the early days of communist Russia and China to the commune society of the sixties etc, to Uncle Franks revolutionary march on the tea shop in 1974 which ended in broken tea pots and Uncle Frank’s picture on the front page of the national newspapers wearing only an old university tie. Uncle Frank still insists on showing it to the nurses at the home

Pirate Pete is collecting together all his belonging for his new epic adventure at sea and we have had a message that a Pirate ship has anchored in the bay by the Spy Glass Inn on the island in the lake in the park in town. if by any chance you are thinking where, what etc, it’s a long story and best if you return to page one of the book again and take notes. To tell the truth I should have done that as I really don’t know what’s going on anymore, which is what the Ghost Writer says when he returns from his grey office. 



Back to now

Sorry half of you are well confused now but three years is a long time stuff happens.

A life in the sky is fraught with peril

No1  . . .Chocks Away

No2 . . . Roger

No1 . . . Who's Roger

No2 . . . What?

No1 . . .Who is Roger

No2 . . . He's not real, its what a chap says

No3 . . . Has Roger got the chocolates

No1 . . . What?

No2 . . . What?

No3 . . . Who has the chocolates

No1 . . . No one has any chocolates

No3 . . . You mentioned Choc's

No1 . . . NO not choc's. Chocks they are those little wooden wedges in front of the wheels on the airfield.

No3 . . . OK. . . Roger

No4 . . . Yes

No1 . . . Sorry No4 what are you asking

No4  . . . Someone said Roger

No1 . . . I thought we have established Roger is not real and he does not have any Chocolates

No4 . . . But my name is Roger

No1 . . . But No2 told me you were not real

No2 . . . Roger means OK I have understood your message, not Roger.

No3 . . . So has Roger got any Chocolates

No1 . . . NO ONE HAS any Chocolates

No4 . . . Yes I do

No3 . . . What kind of chocolates Roger

No4 . . . Milk Tray

No2 . . . I dont like Milk Tray, thats a bit unfair.

No1 . . . Does it matter, we are all in different aircraft sharing is not really practical.

No4 . . . I dont mind sharing

No1 . . . OK Roger I'll have the one in the gold foil.

No4 . . . AH DAMN I have just eaten that one.

No 3 . . . Roger has started eating the chocolates

No2 . . . I dont care I dont like Milk Tray so he can eat them all as far as I'm concerned.

No1 . . . OK look I'll share my ice cream then

No2 . . . WHAT?

No3 . . . WHAT?

No4 . . . Tally Ho

No1 . . . What? no its just a plain vanilla wafer. . . .

Plane . . . . . HAH HAH HA HAHAH HAhah ah ahah ha ha ha h ahah hah ah ahha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah a ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha ha haah ah ah ah ah ahaha ha

    

A new colourful theory about Neanderthal man and the origin of Art

Last night as I struggled to draw something interesting like a mad dog eating a Vampire Lemming that had been distracted by the arrival of Mechanical Zombie Aliens riding giant Goats. The thought went through my mind that where did all this drawing stuff start. The reason I thought that was because my drawing was taking on a distinct prehistoric image, more dinosaur (the Fidosaurous) than dog. The earliest drawings of course being those of strange beasts on the walls of caves by Stone Age man some ten thousand plus years ago.

As I pondered this thinking why would they suddenly do this (draw and paint on cave walls), after all Lions and Bears don’t, I had this sudden flash of genius. You see if you look at the last few ancient tribes that live in the world today, one of the things they like to do is dress up in costume and paint their faces and bodies.  Most folk even now like a good party or carnival and will paint their faces and dress up in fancy dress and feathers at the drop of a hat.

So it is a small step from covering yourself in paint and leaping about with your mates to using the paint on the walls of your cave to cheer it up a bit. . . . . This may not sound very exciting but it is, because what it implies is early Neanderthal man was not just a hairy club carrying grey sort of chap, but was a colourful and bright chap with each tribe doing its own distinct thing to distinguish it from its rivals.

Now some of you will be saying that is all well and good but so what . . . . . Well I am letting the world know of my theory of the origin of Art and the shock news that the very early ancestors of mankind were in fact a jolly colourful bunch. . . . By announcing this now I should be in time to get some sort of award before the end of the year, something shiny with my name on it is large letters. . . . . A Nobel Prize for History would be good, to go with the one for Science. . . .   

Diaries and other words

So about this so called diary that you have not been writing lately, I can hear you all think. What sort of feeble excuse are you planning to palm us all off with this time with your rubbish pictures and so called paradoxes.  Which looking from our point of view just looked like an excuse not to write anything?

Well I can tell you are not happy since I have stopped writing reams of total rubbish that makes little sense I have noticed that the page views on the blog have plummeted like the Great Mechanical Zombie Bird itself. There I was boasting to the cats that the blog was just a tad fewer than 10,000 pageviews for the month of July and at the present rate it will be back down to a couple of thousand at best in August.  Of course I did mention my concern about the fact I would no longer be covering major world sporting events as my Football  World Cup coverage was very popular (particularly with folk who don't like sport).

Anyway back to the point excuses, I have been busy and I think I have reached that point where I am suffering from writer's block again. I have a feeling this is because I have written loads, 560,000 words not including comments and drawn loads of pictures. In fact last nights picture drawn last night was a right old game and I was far from happy with the result so I am worried I have Artists block now as well. Even the poetry was a bit iffy and bad nonsense poetry is normally dead easy.

So I need a plan something to revamp things in a good way but not an exhausting gosh this is hard work sort of way, something that will make people think Oooooo this is an interesting diary this chap should get that very nice Steven Spielberg to turn this into a film.  Luckily I do think I have a plan one that I hope people will approve of, one which will keep the basic structure of my diary intact so I don’t lose my loyal followers (you know who you are).

So what is this plan I hear you now thinking in a slightly excited way. . . . . . .Well I thought I might introduce more Zombies, Aliens,  Mechanical things, Goats, ferrets, Lemmings, Pointy Sticks and ice cream and do some drawings………

WHAT DID YOU SAY

What you are fed up with    Zombies, Aliens, Mechanical things, Goats, ferrets, Lemmings, Pointy Sticks and ice cream and rubbish drawings done with a ballpoint pen. . . . . . . . .

AH DAMN. . . .

What about a nude alien hunter and a Grumpy Ghost Writer.

O God you lot are hard to please, OK I will add some science and stuff from time to time if you insist and maybe some real news. . . . . . But that’s it. 

The Great Mechanical Zombie Bird . . . .The poetry of Rob Z Tobor

The Great Mechanical Zombie Bird

Has never been seen

And has never been heard

With its pointy talons

And its scary beak

It is a beast of which folk do not speak

Yet in the shadows in the dark

It’s waiting lurking

Like a shark

And as you drift off into sleep

Out of the shadows it will creep

And bite your head off in one go

Just to ensure that you do know

That the Great Mechanical Zombie Bird

Although it has never been seen

And never been heard

Is very real

Although quite absurd.

Because it’s the Great Mechanical Zombie Bird.

Whose a Pretty Parot-dox  

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 4

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 4

1. . . . One Small Step for Man One Giant Leap for Mankind

2 . . Oooooo I dont like them let's fire this big rocket at them

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 3

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 3

1. . . . . . . . . . .  Never Pander to the Whims of Others

2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Save the Panda



3 . . . . . . . . . . . . .Zombies are  Masters of Disguise 

4 . . . . . .  .Zombies never choose the right Disguise

Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 2

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 2

1. . . . . Everyone should stand up and be Counted

2 . . . . . . . . . . . . .It is easier to count, sitting Down

Great Paradoxes of Modern Life

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life

 1. . . . . Never go to a Fancy Dress Party Dressed as a Coral Reef

2 . . . . . . . . .  Never Go to a Coral Reef Dressed in a Fancy Dress

The Devil is in the Detail and a Huge Hole

I could write loads but I have decided that tonight I will not, because I have been busy busy busy cutting chopping and moving stuff in the garden in readiness for the arrival of Chris the Digger and his Digger. I have plans to dig another hole because I like holes and it is all part of a great master plan, we should all have master plans and mine involve  huge holes where I will hide my secret base so I can take over the world in a coo-less pigeon (sorry a Political Coup).

Anyway I still have to fine tune my plans and as someone once said The Devil in in the Detail..

Yes sorry tonight picture was drawn in 10 minutes max so is a bit iffy. One could even say the Detail is not in the Devil. . . . 

     

Its Accountancy Jim but not as we know it. . . . . (OK I'm suffering from writers block at present, so its not my fault)

Today the Ghost Writer was in his office, the one with the grey walls. I know what you are thinking, you are thinking hang on didn't he move out of that office into a new office ages ago. Well that is correct but the new office is identical in many ways to the old office and has grey walls. It is where a very unknown writer got the idea to write. . . .  One Shade of Grey, a Tale of Accountancy . . . . .  a book that to this day is the worst selling book on Amazon. And one that the very nice Steven Spielberg would not even give a second glance at where it not for the recent realization that Roger from accounts is in fact an Alien.

Well that’s just typical you look for Aliens high and low in the Woods, Death Valley, Mars, Venus and the various moons of the various planets as well as pointing radio telescopes out into Interstellar Space. And it turns out that Roger upstairs is an Alien all along, I guess the fact that his wife is called Stella is a bit of a clue, well that and the arms.

This is good though because that Mr Douglas Adams chap wrote a successful book where the hero is an ordinary chap in the street, much like myself who ends up in space with a load of Aliens. Well this is exactly what keeps happening to me, well OK I don’t end up in space, more the supermarket. I have even been told the inside of spacecrafts are very similar to supermarkets, they both have a cold bits full of frozen bodies too in order to survive the long journey to the new planet. One Small Step for Man One Giant Roast for Mankind. In fact Roger says that he was lucky, he had just left his cryogenic chamber when a large gang of confused old ladies ran off with the rest of the crew for a barbeque at the old folks home convinced they were in Tesco.  He has worked ever since to reap revenge by making sure the pension of little old ladies is reduced so much they can’t afford a decent frozen Alien anymore. And to insure this will never happen again he was secretly worked on increasing the retirement age to a point us humans all keel over before we get to retire. 

See what happens when we start eating folk from other planets, they don't like it.  

Ooooo and remember Vote YES . . . .  I will be returning to this subject again  . . . . .soon 

THe Ghost Bi-Plane, WW1 and the Mole

Yesterday I mentioned that I had put a load of moth balls down into the Moles run in order to shift him out of our lawn. It is said that Moles hate the smell and will head off to pastures new, well it sort of worked, it did move all of three or four feet further into the middle of the lawn. However luck was on my side because after a quick trip to the Castle of the Bishop to get provisions I noticed on our return a new mound in the lawn since we had been out. So I grabbed a spade a pair of gloves and the hose and leapt into action. First I dug in behind the new mound and then turned the hose on to full blast to fill the Moles now limited run. 

Within a few seconds the Mole appeared on the surface of the grass to escape the flood where I grasped it in my gloved hand and put it in a plastic container. It was then transported to a place where Moles can run free (dig Free) . So it is one happy Mole . . . . . I say happy but do Moles do happy?

We also had a visit from Miss Vicky then we had a visit from Miss Jo and Charlie Junior who hid under a pile of large umbrellas.

Then after everyone left and we were clearing up a very strange thing happened, an old Bi-Plane flew over head, but rather than head off into the distance it turned round two or three times and then proceeded to do a fancy aerial display.  So we stood outside for a while watching the Bi-Plane doing loop the loops and barrel rolls and the like before it eventually headed back to where ever it can from. What is particularly strange is that it is exactly 100 years to the day since the start of world war one (WW1) and why a Bi-Plane would do such a display over a tiny village in the middle of nowhere is a mystery. I am assuming it was probably a Ghost Bi-Plane and will return again in one hundred years time.

Ooooooo yes I will be drumming tonight too.

.

I would also add, I was not impressed by the closing ceremony of the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow. . . .Typical Glasgow Night Out had so much scope and they did a packet of chips and Whatshername singing. . . .