The Greatest Harry Potter Halloween Story Ever Told. . . . .Starring The Wicker Man

Once upon a time when it was trendy to send young wizards off to Hogwarts Academy, before the incident in the long hall with the cat and the large jug, a young farmer arrived from the mountains of Transylvania called Frankie Moon-star (yes it was the sixties the days of silly names). He was just an ordinary chap not a wizard so was mocked and laughed at by the pupils of Hogwarts and told to go away.  So he set up a smallholding on the outskirts of the magic forest growing organic vegetables and suitable canes for wands.  He was quite successful in business and this was resented by the young wizard pupils of Hogwarts because he was what they called a muggle. And they really thought he should not even be there.

He was left alone most of the year but at Halloween every pupil at Hogwarts would turn up as dusk fell and make his life hell. In particular a Mr Harry Potter and a Miss Hermione Granger would shout and scream all sorts of stuff at him (like Mimiosso Ayucky poous) and do stuff like turn his courgettes into pigs, tomatoes into bananas and turn all his clothes pink. They did this because they said Frankie Moon-star was a very silly name.

Then one year Frankie made a huge Wicker Man out of Willow from the Magic Forest in a desperate effort for a quiet time, it was dead scary to look at and he placed it at the entrance to his small holding.  What he did not know was that because it was made out of willow that came from the Magic Forest the young Wizards were unable to pass. O yes they tried all sorts of spells and stuff but the Wicker Man stood his ground. Every year after that Frankie Moon-star would make a new Wicker Man and no matter how hard the young wizards tried they could not get past.

The years passed and Frankie got older and older, but he was happy now because the young wizards never came and annoyed him ever again.  Frankie often passed the time with Lord Voldemort who also complained about the young Wizards and said they were ruining his reputation as a Magic act for children’s parties and it was all that Harry’s fault.

Then one day just before Halloween Frankie died, but he was very old and life had been good, however all the pupils at Hogwarts led by an ageing Mr Harry Potter and a Miss Hermione Granger decided to take revenge. With no Wicker Man to stop them they set off through the Magic Forest (chanting Gump Gump Gump Gump) all the way to the house and formed a ring round it (The Wizards Ring of Fire), and then sent fireballs into the house using their wands, setting it alight. They laughed and laughed in a mad wizard way, but never noticed all the Wicker Men slowly creeping up behind them. By the time they did the Wicker Men had linked arms meaning no one could escape. All the young wizards screamed and shouted and ran about and Harry and Hermione hid in a water barrel but it was all futile. The Wicker Men slowly shuffled towards the house and as they did got hotter and hotter and started to burn.

The following morning there was nothing but a large charred patch of land all the Wicker Men, the Wizards, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and the house had all vanished. Hogwarts of course never really recovered from the loss of all those young wizards and after the incident in the long hall with the cat and the large jug it had to close. It has been turned into a theme park now and it is perpetually full of muggles pointing at fake wizards much to the amusement of the Ghost of Freddie Moon-star who likes to pop by every Halloween to snigger at the waxwork of Harry Potter. Who unable to move says . . . I sugose you gink gats gunny. 

A hint of Harry Potters Terrible end. . . . Its the Wicker Man

Look out Harry Potter its coming to get you

It's the Wicker Man

HAH AH HA HAH AH HAH AH HA HA HAH AH HA H

a ah haha ha ha ha ha ha h ah ah ah haha

a ahah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha 

a ha ha ha hah ah a ha 

a ha hahahaha ha 

a ha hahaha h

a hah ah a

ha ha ha 

ha ha 

h a

ha 

ha

h a

ha

ha ha 

ha ha ha 

ha ha ha 

ha haha h a 

HA HA HA HA HA 

ah ahah h ha ahah ha h

a a ha ha ha hah ah ah ha ha ha 

a ah ha ha hah ah ah ah ha hah ah ha ha hah 

a ha hah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha hah ah ah ha ha hah ha 

Fantastic Beasts that do not eat Harry Potter

Is this the terrible Beast that finally eats Harry Potter and all the Wizards

Well NO

(I have to draw my own fantastic Beasts not like some)

Sorry I have been very busy and  will be busy tomorrow but after that 

I WILL BE BACK

Ok I may be back before that who can tell.

DAMN all this Exciting stuff and I have no time to tell you about it.

When I say exciting I am not entirely telling the truth.

Did you know Harry Potter hates Kippers

JUST SAYING 

Catching up on things and stuff. NOT Harry Potter

We have almost come to the end of my own short Harry Potter season of posts and only have the big finale to go for Halloween which will be posted the day before because I suspect I will spend Halloween chasing horrible small children. Well I will if they turn up dressed as Zombies or the like shouting Trick or Treat. I find once you have a long pointy stick covered in blood and run after them shouting kill the Zombies they have a habit of shouting We are not Zombies we are small Children of course my response to this is That is what a Zombie would say but you cant fool me. . . . . Kill the Zombies.   But in recent years I have seen fewer small children at Halloween or any other time as it happens.

Yesterday I attempted to make a fake stained glass window and hammered some nails into some wood and sorted out some fairy lights for the fake stained glass widow (sorry Window). It was a long day and ended with an Indian takeaway . . .  A chicken dhansak, pulao rice and a huge king prawn butterfly.  The India always gives you huge amounts of food so tonight guess what I plan to eat for my evening meal.  I may have eaten it by the time this is posted as I have a drawing to do also. Today I have removed a bit of wallpaper with a steamer, this wallpaper is the most stuck on wallpaper I have ever come across, it is seriously stuck and has a lining paper which is just as bad. . . .PHEW. . . . Oooo I also moved some leaves but many leaves are still falling from the trees in the garden.

And last night at two in the morning the clocks went back an hour so two o’clock became one o’clock making today the longest day of the year in Britain by an entire hour. I hate this clock moving it just makes me jet lagged without being on a jet and for some time I will wander about like a Zombie groaning and pointing at clocks in a sort of angry looking way. I am already yawning and it is still early evening but pitch black outside.

Oooo I forgot to say yesterday I saw a lifelike Mechanical Hooting Owl that hooted most of the day until someone ran off with it in a bag saying . . . who’s a pretty boy then and Polly wants a rabbit. . .

I need to get back to my Professional Blogging and answer some of those Big Questions that folk are asking me, but I think that will be post Halloween now as I need to kill off Harry . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . DAMN I have ruined it for you all now and told you I kill off Harry and all his mates. . . . DAMN . .  Yes they are all goners and Hogwarts has to close . . . . DAMN . . . . I better go before I mention the cat and the large jug again. . . . . . . . . . . .DAMN. . . 

HARRY POTTER meets EDWARD LEAR and it ends Badly

Ron Weasley and Miss Granger went to sea

In a beautiful pea-green boat,

They took some honey, and plenty of money,

Wrapped up in the hand written curse of the goat.

Hermione looked up to the stars above,

And sang to a small guitar,

"O lovely Ronnie! O Ronnie, my love,

 What a Gingery Wizard you are,

            You are,

            You are!

What a gingery Wizard you are!"

II

Ron Weasley said to Miss Granger, "You elegant fowl!

How charmingly sweet you sing!

O let us be married! too long we have tarried:

But what shall we do for a ring?"

They sailed away, for a year and a day,

To the land that Gandalf knows

And there in a wood Voldemort stood

With a ring at the end of his nose,

             His nose,

             His nose,

 With a ring at the end of his nose.

III

"Dear Voldemort, are you willing to sell for one shilling

 Your ring?" Said Voldemort, "I’d much rather kill."

So they both ran away, and hid deep in the hay

By the Turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;  

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,

Voldemort killed them by the light of the moon,

             The moon,

             The moon,

Killed them by the light of the moon

DAMN another sad ending

HAH H HAH AH ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah hah ahah ah h hhaha hah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha h ha ah ha h ha ha h h hah a hah ah ah ah ha ah ah ah ha ha ha ah haaha hahah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha. 

You know who and the dilemma of popularity

As many of you will know (I say many I mean almost no one), I have been making up Harry Potter Halloween Poetry as a bit of a jolly before I post my Harry Potter Halloween Spooky story at the end of the month.  We are old mates from way back from the days when Harry was knee high to a grasshopper, he has never let me play with his wand since (if anyone sniggers or thinks rude thoughts then I suggest you go and stand in the corner). But of course he was allowed to head off into Hogwarts to become a wizard and become the hero to a whole generation through books films and various other media and the like. Where as I vanished into a small dark corner in the huge voids of cyberspace living on cake and hot chocolate and waving pointy sticks at Zombies and Seagulls, you see I am not a wizard.

So I have written several poems now about my old mate on my blog and it has had a rather interesting and profound effect, one I was not expecting. Now people think I write all sorts of mad stuff in a random fashion, but all is not what is seems, you see I use guile and cunning in an attempt to help each post stand some chance of being found by folk searching Google. Lets face it if I am heading towards the one million words mark it would be nice if it was read by as many as possible, although the small hardy group here do keep me going, and when that nice Mr Spielberg makes the film they will all get a mention and sneaky parts in the film like what’s his name did. . .  Alfred Hitchcock. 

Anyway back to the point, since I started my Harry Potter based theme it appears that pageviews on my blog have plummeted like a large rook (sorry rock). Yes rooks do sometimes plummet but not as well as rocks.  SO why has this happened. Have I lost my touch, are my witty words now just boring, has my typing finally completely fallen apart, am I a grumpy bloke lost in the dark of cyberspace and nobody cares. . . . Well clearly NO. This means it must be a Potter based effect and he is much less popular that I anticipated in fact he is now less popular than my first theory about the rise of the World Social Economic Structures and their connection with the insect colonies of the world.

This means that Harry Potter must be very unpopular indeed. . . It’s a shock for me but when I phone him up later in his posh house dragging him away from his ice cool drink by his swimming pool he is going to be gutted. I can imagine he will be in contact with that Sue Townsend (sorry JK Rowling) sharpish suggesting a new book and film where he returns to Hogwarts in order to restore faith after the incident with the cat and the large jug (AH DAMN that’s a spoiler from my Halloween story). . . . . .

Anyway as I have said it is a terrible shock that poor all Harry Potter is so unpopular and I feel it would be bad of me to linger on this point . . . . the one about Harry Potter being less popular than World Economics so I will go and think about a poem on a far more popular subject such as maybe a cat and an owl in a pea green sailing vessel with a plentiful supply of money and honey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

AH DAMN

Harry Potter and the Halloween Poem . . . Part Three

Back in the days of Witches Banshees Ghouls and many an old warlock

A famous young wizard called Harry Potter roamed tuning keys in many a door lock

With his trusty wand and spells he did rid us of all such scary and villainous beasts

And everyone then celebrated with fires, lots of cake and big feasts.

Everyone did cheer and shout at this task in which Harry did succeed

Although one tiny voice did speakout  not noticed and not listened too, and no one did take heed

But what of Halloween the tiny voice did said questioningly who will now came and call

When all those strange and scary beasts have been killed off by Harry one and all.

So at Halloween when small children call in rubbish plastic outfits shouting Trick or Treat.

Remember whose fault it is that all these annoying children scamper about on your street

It is that damn Harry Potter and his mates and all their heroic film hero wizardly ways

Because there are no more decent man eating monsters and Halloween has seen much better days.

Harry Potter meets the Three Witches of Macbeth . . .Who said culture was dead

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,

 In Hogwarts caldron boil and bake;

Eye of Potter, and toe of frog,

Wizard’s hat, and tongue of dog,

Ron Weasley’s hair, and blind-worm's sting,

A wizards leg, and owlet's wing,—

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

"Mad-Eye" Moody’s hat; tooth of wolf;

Witches' mummy; maw and gulf

Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;

Boot of Malfoy digg'd i the dark;

Liver of Mister Sirius Black;

Gall of goat, and horns of yak

Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;

Nose of Turk, and Miss Grangers lips;

Finger of Albus Percival Brian Dumbledore

deliver'd by post, from the Argos Store

Make the gruel thick and slab:

Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,

For the ingrediants of Hogworts caldron.

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Cool it with Harry Potter’s blood,

Then the charm is firm and as much use as mud. 

HAH AH HA HAHah ha hahah ha ha h ha h hah hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah hah ah ahah aha hahahahha ha ha hah ah  HAH AHAH AHAHAH AH AHAHAH HA HA HA AH AH AHA HA HA H AHA HA H AH AA  

The Harry Potter Halloween Poem Part Two

Tonight I should be writing about the social Economic status of humans at a global level and why our present structure started. Plus a short history of why we are where we are, and all in about 500 to 600 words.  I also have to work out which animal to include for reasons that are too long to explain if you don’t know. But time is not on my side so instead I am writing a second Harry Potter based Halloween poem, because I know Harry secretly is a big fan (well he flaps about and folds up under pressure. . .HAH hahHAh ahHAHH AH hah HAH AH HA HAH AH haha ha ha ha ha).

Scratching Scratching at my front door

At Halloween a sound I do deplore

Those wizard kids with their friendly smile

Harry Potter and all his mates so vile

O be a sport do let us in

We would love some candy . . . And a glass of gin.

Scratching Scratching with a madman’s grin

Scratching Scratching in the black of night

Scratching Scratching in the dark, just out of sight

But we are only wizards and very nice

And would never turn you into little frogs or mice

But that Harry Potter is mad you know

With his odd scarred forehead . . . And his Smarmy glow

Scratching Scratching as the wild winds blow

Scratching Scratching like a demented Claw

Scratching Scratching at my front door

Oh that Mr Potter is very clever, pretending to be nice

But we all know he has a heart of ice

And that Miss Hermione Granger is just as bad

She buried her parents in the sands of Budapest

In an oak lined steel multi-locked Pirate Treasure Chest

Scratching Scratching. . .  You can let us out now Herminie

Scratching Scratching. . .  HELLO . . . Are you there

Scratching Scratching . . . HELP

Oh Dear

HAH HA HAHah ha hahah ah hah ahha hah ah ha hahah ah ah ah ah ah ah ahah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ah ha ha hahh ahah ha ha ha haha h ah a ahahahha haah ah ha      

Mankind's Past and Mankind's Future . . . . The SHOCK Truth

The other day someone said to me hey you are a professional blogger don’t you answer all those tricky questions about stuff. . . . To which I said yes and that is the easiest question I have ever had to deal with, but then they said well I was wondering why the social economic structure that mankind lives within is so complex when say a duck messes about, eats grass and maybe heads south for the winter.  I did try and explain that I normally only write about 500 words per post and we have already used a whole load up and have not ever started to deal with his rather complex question.

So in order to deal with this I will answer it in two bits because there are in fact two very different answers to this, one very long answer and one much shorter. Tonight will be the shorter answer. Both are equally valid and have their supporters within the scientific community at large.

So consider the dilemma of being a super intelligent lifeform keen to colonise the universe, but also aware of the issues involved. I have previously explained it is as good as impossible to do this. However there is one way it could be done and recent discoveries in space support this theory, you see the basic building blocks of life have been found in space and we need to ask ourselves why it is there. Well it is likely it was put there by a super intelligent lifeform and represents the key genetic data of their own species at a micro biological structure level, where it (the building blocks of life) drifts through space. Once encountering a planet gravity ensures it covers its surface. And because of the microscopic size it does not burn up as it falls through the atmosphere.  Once on the planet it then interferes with the process of Evolution in the most suitable species and gradually turn the DNA of the host being into the original (alien) lifeform.

Have you noticed how Mankind suddenly headed down an entirely different avenue of evolutionary process to other apes and we now have a lifestyle closer to that of termites and ants. Just look at how folk move about in IKEA and large shopping centres, the Great Apes just sit about or chill in trees and never build large towers like termites.  If you add to this to the question of what sort of super lifeform would put the colony and species before the individual in order to colonize the universe; and the answer is clearly an insect one such as termites or ants.

We are not ants we lack the required number of limbs but viewed from a great height our cities are very similar to that of the termite and insect colonies. And we have ever increasing laws and regulations to control us, pressurizing us to conform to the will of the masses. Something clearly changed us from being apes, and it is very likely we are in the process of becoming pre-programmed alien beings.

You may laugh but just think about this next time you are following the little arrows around IKEA without question picking up large fluffy termites for the kids to play with. . . . . . . . . . .     

Harry Potter and the first Halloween Poem of 2014

It will soon be Halloween

A time when Monsters and Vampires will be seen.

When huge hairy scary spiders scratch at front doors

And beasts with pointy teeth and talons on their paws

Whisper through your letter box

Let me in I’m very nice

I might just lick you once or twice

And maybe suck a little blood

That will run from your neck into the mud

As you are dragged deep into the wood

By a Zombie in a Big Black Hood.

Because at Halloween Monsters like to eat

And they much prefer some human meat

And all those children shouting trick or treat

Are all happy until they meet

A Monster with a terrible screaming howl

That smells of rotting rats and things most foul

 Which whispers gently I’m very nice?

And if you let me lick you once or twice

And maybe nibble at your fresh young brains

 You could live with me in the drains

Then next year you’ll emerge as a terrible rotter

And we will all feast on the Brains of HARRY POTTER

HAH HA HAH HA hah ah ah ah ah ahah hah ha ha

A a ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah

A  ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ahah ha hah ah

A ajaah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ahha

Ah hha ha hahaha ha Ha hahah

A HA HAHA H AHA HA

A HAHAHA

AH HA HA

HA HA

HA

HA

HA 

The Origin of Halloween . . Big Questions Answered

Halloween what’s that all about then, is definitely one of the big questions of the moment and it is time someone answered it properly. If you search cyberspace you will be bombarded with loads of stuff, but it will all be a bit wishy washy (no not as in Pantomime but as in vague).  This is what always happens when paganism meets religion, but not here no, you will get to know exactly what’s going on.

Firstly it is important to take note of the time of year, and the weather, this year in Britain is a classic to explain why this all started up. We had a fairly good summer and the sun sort of held on over September and then October arrived and the weather has crashed big time, it is dull, damp and getting cold.  So way back in the days when we were all tribal and waved sticks and worshipped the sun and the like (the good old days) what did folk do to get themselves through the long hard winters, remember there was no central heating unless you were a Roman. Well they had parties or as we like to call them now Rituals, yes everyone likes a party but in general we need a reason for them stuff like birthdays, passing exams, catching your first crocodile and the like.  Back in the old days folk would associate these events with their local god and Halloween also got linked to celebrating the dead. Things were different then, death was not all gravestones tears and flowers, it was big fires feasting and dressing up.  Remember the old ancestors did not vanish they were and are still about and it was good manners to show some respect an maybe burn a huge effigy of an Elk and wear a big mask and go and visit all the locals, eat, drink, dance, cheer and wave pointy sticks.

However main stream religion got involved and said it was a Christian event in a cunning plan to get rid of all these other gods and effigies. But old customs are difficult to get rid of and before you know it small children were doing trick or treat all over the world. In particular the whole event appealed to the USA having arrived with the Irish and Scottish way back (they were good at this stuff) and the spirits of the dead were turned into monsters, mummies, vampires, huge things with pointy teeth, witches and the like. This allowed the corporate business world in the USA to make a killing (no pun intended) by selling all sorts of gruesome characters made out of China’s very best genuine recycled plastic. As well as packets of dodgy sugary things that are needed to give to the swarms of trick or treat children that turn up at your door sort of saying things like . . . . .give us stuff or we set fire to the rabbit hutch. . . 

These days with it all being witches and monsters and the like religion has got all funny about it and say it’s the work of the devil. They really should have just left it alone and let the pagans have a party for their long lost ancestors round a big fire and eating and generally having a good time, much like they do at Christmas. . . . . . . AH.

Anyway there you have it that is the Origin of Halloween . . . . sort of        

A repeat of the post from 14th Oct 2012 (Yes OK its lazy I know . . . BUT).

I have been very busy yet again today although strangely it allowed me to draw a cat and a Zombie so I have two pictures in reserve WELL COOL. But because of this busyness I have decided to repeat the post of exactly two years ago on the 14th Oct 2012 just so folk can get a feel of how the old blog has changed with the passing of time.

A repeat of 14th October 2012

Today has been as much about catching up as actually getting anything done so for example I am still writing up my adventures in the underworld; OK not really so much the underworld as the world underground, as they are not entirely the same thing, as my very good friend Napoleon Beelzebub has pointed out. Although they are both in the same direction, it is more the fact they are not in the same dimension, much like myself and the Ghost Writer. In fact while on the subject of different dimensions I discovered that the old medieval castle that we stayed near which I will mention when I finally get things all written up (you lot are just going to have to wait until I am organized a bit . . . . . . . . . AH); OK yes this castle exists in several dimensions also. It has a real existence so exists in the world of the Ghost Writer; it has an existence in the real world of Rob Z Tobor (me) because as far as I'm concerned I'm real. And then I discovered it has an alternative existence as a French castle in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  So I have now discovered that not only did we miss a chance to get all the gold from the centre of the Earth we have also missed an opportunity to find the Holy Grail and possibly the odd autograph……

Anyway the farmer has now filled the tunnels created by the cows, so they are a bit dispirited and are chewing grass in despair, roaming about in the fields in a sort of random fashion as if their goal in life has been taken away from them. However the sting in the tail for us was that one of their tunnels has resulted in the main road being closed and we were forced to undertake a huge detour in order to get to the birthday party of Miss Elle tonight who was seventeen while we were away in the depths of the subterranean caverns. It appears the road will now be closed for at least three weeks because cows make large tunnels but are not good at engineering the supports . . . . . . . 

It was a bit of a shock all that frost and sunlight this morning I had to wear sunglasses at breakfast and a woolly hat although it did turn into a really lovely day. OK I better go it is getting on as I have been at a birthday party and had to go and return the long way. . . .

Oooo I saw two of those powered parachute things going over the house today and an Austin Maxi. I thought all Austin Maxi’s were well dead, ironically on the way to the birthday party we did pass the Austin Maxi again and it appeared to be dead with people peering into the engine. Such is life. 

A Cautionary Tale of Knitting . . . A Repeat of Halloween 2013

It will be halloween again soon I think so I thought I would be lazy tonight and repeat last years Halloween story. Yes I know no one likes repeats but they do it on the TV all the time and get away with it so YA SUCKS BOO is what I say. Anyway I am thinking about writing a new Halloween Story for this year, although just at present the mind is a bit blank, it would be fun to kill off Harry Potter and his mates in some sort of terrible method . . . . . Nothing personal Harry with your multi million pound film franchise, Potter world and smug ways; while me the Eccentric Child of Cyberspace find myself trapped in the head of a grumpy old scruffy bloke who complains a lot.  

A Repeat of Halloween 2013 

A cautionary tale of Knitting 

Once upon a time, in a smallish town in the heart of the big forest lived a little old lady, she lived in a funny rickety house near the forest edge pottering about in her garden and knitting. She was a very quiet little old lady who wore a big black knitted witch’s hat. She would always smile at passers by say hello and then continue to potter about in her lovely quaint garden which was full of strange little knitted cats and dogs and crows and butterflies and all sorts of things which seemed to move about almost every day to a new spot in the garden.

But come the evening of Halloween each year she would put scary life-sized knitted children in her garden that would make odd little squeaks and whines and jiggle about. They were very very scary looking knitted children, so scary that none of the children in the town would go trick or treating at the little old ladies house because they were frightened of the scary looking knitted children that squeaked and jiggled all night long. Then in the morning as the sun rose, all the knitted children were put away again in a large shed with a big padlock at the bottom of her garden until Halloween the following year.  

Then one year a small group of children who were dressed up particularly scarily thought to themselves . . . . . .We are very very very scary, even more scary that the knitted scary children in the garden of the little old lady, so they decided that they would go and see her and shout TRICK OR TREAT. They knew she would be surprised and were hoping that their very very very scary costumes would frighten the little old lady and they would get a really good treat.

So as it got dark the children sneaked into the garden and up the path towards the front door past the knitted children who squealed and jiggled and made lots of strange little noises. Then as they were about to run off in fright the front door opened and the little old lady smiled and said OOOOOOOOOOO TRICK OR TREATERS . . . . . WOULD YOU LIKE A TREAT and the children all shouted YES. But to get their treat the children had to pull a long loose thread from the nose of each or the knitted children. As the children pulled and pulled the threads, the knitted children squealed and jiggled even more until they were just a huge pile of wool on the ground and the sound of the squeals vanished into the wind.  In the middle of each pile of wool however was a large box of candy sweets, the children cheered and ate them, but it made them feel very sleepy and before they knew it they were all snoring. 

  

The following morning as the sun rose the people of the town were out franticly hunting for a small group of children who had all vanished. This had happened in the past a long long long time ago apparently; once during a previous Halloween all those years ago a small group of children had all vanished never to be seen again, but it was so long ago it was now just an old fairy tale that folk would tell on Halloween.

As the towns people rushed about they stopped to ask the little old lady if she had seen the children, she shook her head pointing at the knitted children and said I AM JUST PUTTING MY KNITTED CHILDREN BACK IN MY SHED. The knitted children squealed and squeaked and jiggled at the town’s people, who thought they looked even more scary than normal and also strangely familiar, but they turned to continue their frantic hunt for their own children.

They searched and searched but no matter how hard they hunted they never found their children ever again. And as the little old lady put the knitted children into the shed she looked at their little eyes blinking with fear and smiled and said I DO LIKE A GOOD TRICK; before going back inside to sit and knit, and spend all day laughing hysterically with a slightly mad glint in her eye, while stroking a large knitted black cat that almost seemed to purr . . . . . . . 

Why do we never seem to have enough time in the day. . . . The Big Question.

How come we never seem to have enough time to do stuff? Yes I think this is a Big Question for many of us.  OK I may be a bit disorganised at getting stuff done and I guess that can't help one bit, but the fact is even organized folk will often say things like I have all this stuff to do and I just DON'T seem to have the time.  As far as I can tell this is definitely a problem of us decedent imperialist westerners because if you watch things on the TV where some celeb is trekking through the wilds in some exotic country they often seem to pass folk sat at the side of the road looking chilled and saying things like . . . . . .  OOOoooo look its him off the tele the chap with the parrot and the ray gun who travels through time in that ICE CREAM van eating jellied eels. . . . .  They seem to be able to sit for days on end, just sitting and being chilled as they watch the world pass by.

But how come we can’t sit about it must be due to the way we live and think. I have realized for a long time now I think I can do more than I can, and by that I mean I often think stuff like . . .  if I cut this old bicycle up and weld the engine of this knackered mower to this I beam and use the gearbox from a Model T ford to fix a Box Brownie to the Grizolme Bevel thrust plate I can toast bread rolls. . . .  The truth is I don't have the time and by adding such ideas to the other ideas already on the list of stuff that needs to be done it results in overload as the list also contains stuff like remove wallpaper from old office walls, remove old office walls, cut grass, plant grass, feed cats, chase seagulls, wash hair, stick mancky clothes in big pile in dark corner of room.

I know this is normal most people have exactly the same issue I often stop people in the street and ask them if they are busy and they always say Yes I’m off to find a  Grizolme Bevel thrust plate.   OK the men say stuff like that for reasons I may discuss another time, women seldom have any interest in Grizolme Bevel thrust plates   but none the less seem very busy.   They often say they are so busy because their partner is doing something stupid with an old bicycle and the lawn mower and someone has to sort the house out, pay the bills and go to work and cook dinner.

Anyway I have to say this is probably the hardest question to date I have dealt with so I need a break and have a round metal thing I might put pointy bits on so I can hang it from a tree to attract Woodpeckers to scare off the Zombies. All we can do is prioritize stuff so that’s it I'm off to hunt for that round metal thing right now.

Ooooooooo look a Seagull.    

Are you going to meet an Alien. . . The Big Question Answered.

It is time to tackle one of those big questions which I now do as part of my life as a Professional Blogger. It a grand life being a Professional Blogger now that the money is starting to roll in, it’s a bit of a surprise and beats working for a living. I did not realise my fellow bloggers were on to such a good thing. . . . . .

Anyway I had a thought the other day; I have yet to meet an Alien as in a real one. Yes I know Mr Jones has met loads but I think he tends to think anything that moves in the woods at night is an Alien particularly if it’s tall silver and has flashing lights and a death ray.  But the reality is most rational folk don’t see Aliens, and one needs to ask the big question WHY?

The first question we need to ask is are there Aliens out there in the vast voids of space that are intelligent enough to make spacecraft and therefore give us a fighting chance of bumping into one another. Well Yes there are loads of them, however there are other issues involved that make what should be a reasonable thing to happen, actually happen. Two great civilizations from different planets meeting shaking hands, legs or tentacles and then attempting to kill one another (its what intelligent life sort of does).  

So why has it not happened and the incredibly boring answer is pure and simply down to maths, physics and distance.  The Universe is big very very big. We as in planet Earth are out on the outskirts of it in a rather boring bit of the Milky Way which in itself is not that exciting. The Milky Way being just another Galaxy among millions of the things. If each Galaxy contained just one super intelligent lifeform there would be millions and yet the chances of meeting are as good as Zero.

There is yet another issue time (you know what I said about time) well the Universe is said to be 13.8 plus billion years old so far and let’s say has at least another 1000 billion years to go before you know what happens. . . . . . YICKS.  So the odds of two intelligent lifeforms turning up at the same time on different planets close enough for them to meet are so remote that we can say it amounts to Zero. So we now have Zero times Zero chance of meeting an Alien.

And its gets worse because the distances involved mean that even travelling at the speed of light it would take longer that any sort of Alien is likely to live. This is not helped by the fact that a spacecraft could not travel at the speed of light or even remotely close because space is full of dust and stuff. And at those sorts of speed one tiny grain of dust would destroy the spacecraft.  So the chances of an Alien lifeform making a suitable spacecraft are almost Zero. . . So Zero times Zero times Zero . . . .  In other words Mr Jones’s Tall Silvery creature with wings, flashing lights and a death ray is not an Alien but something else.  

Ooooo I worked out how the Earth will be destroyed the other day. That is I thought of the idea the other day not that Earth was destroyed the other day.          

Llandudno. The Zombie Seagulls and The George Hotel

I have returned (OK yesterday afternoon) from my expedition North by what some would say was the pretty route or as the more rational among us like to call it, the long way. So where did we venture in our search for the source of the large great thing that folk have not found the source of yet. Well Llandudno a place where explorers seldom go hunting for things, which logically makes it a prime target to explore, logic dictates that you are more likely to find new things in a place where no one has looked for them. And it is plainly very clear that it has been some time since man looked for new things in Llandudno. 

Our first new discovery was a new breed of seabird; it was a seagull, not just any seagull though but one with very specific eating habits. It hammered away on windows until it was given Ginger Nuts which then appeased the ravenous beast who flew off only to return the following day at the same time.  We have officially named the new breed of bird Seagullious Gingernutium Esmeralda after Esmeralda as it was a fearsome and scary beast that given half a chance would bite half your arm off, and it shouted a lot.  We assume that it might be worshiped by the local Llandudnoians as we did notice they sold three Zombie Gingerbread Men for a pound and had many images of Zombies in Shop Windows.

Our search for the source of the large great thing did not go well until the second evening when a huge ship was hauled through town on a big caterpillar tracked device accompanied by men in orange seafaring equipment. We would not have noticed had it not been for the fact that all the buildings shook and there was a loud low rumbling that sent little old ladies scampering in all directions for cover. There are many little old ladies in Llandudno.

Having concluded that this strange ritual must be connected to our search we set off the following morning in our final bid for glory after a hearty breakfast at base camp (the George Hotel . . . Well Posh) following in the tracks (in more ways than one) of the huge ship. As we did we noticed many little old ladies heading towards M&S and discretely followed as they looked like they could be heading towards the source of the thing we were seeking and interestingly none of the windows  of M&S were full of zombies or skeletons which was suspicious. As we followed this lost tribe of little old ladies up the escalator to the first floor they spoke in a strange tongue, some sort of strange Welsh language.

Following them through the 50% sale rails and towards the café we suddenly found ourselves in a clearing and at the elusive Source of the Aisle. We cheered and raised our flag, a skull and crossbones purchased in a local shop and made of genuine plastic. Our mission complete we returned to base camp and ate afternoon cream tea and watched Zombie Seagulls pecking at the heads of passing joggers on the promenade. It’s their own fault there are signs saying beware of the seagulls.

This is very funny indeed if you have not seen it.