Monday, 31 August 2015

Poetry for the Apocalypse and Haiku for Harry Potter and Things

I live on a Post Apocalyptic Earth
Charred End to End
Right Round its Girth
With just a few Fish
Swimming about in the Sea
Some Insects and Beetles
A Fat Parrot
And ME

AH . . . . I Ate the Parrot

Haiku for Harry Potter

Harry Potter Likes His Cheese
Flying About
And Nesting in Trees

Poetry for things

A Pointy Thing
A Sharp Thing
A round Thing
A Piece of String
A Flat Thing
A Lumpy Thing
A Tiny Thing
A Cart Spring

And an odd Thing
That goes

Batteries Not Included 

Saturday, 29 August 2015

Poetry for Rooks

Rooks are Happy
Rooks are Sad
Rooks are Good
Rooks are Bad
Rooks like Flying
Rooks like Cake
Rooks don’t Ask
Rooks just Take
Rooks are Noisy
Rooks can’t Sing
Rooks keep Gin
Hidden under their Wing
Rooks are cunning
Rooks will attack
Rooks like Witches
Because Rooks are Black
Rooks in the Darkness
Rooks in the Night
Rooks getting Grumpy
Rooks in a Fight
So if you see a Rook
And wonder what to Say
Just wave and smile a Bit

Then Quickly Run AWAY.

Friday, 28 August 2015

Blogging, Free Speech, and Reasons to keep your Blog Active

Has the world of blogging ever got you slightly frustrated as you try to encourage a few visitors to stop by and go Oooooooo I might read this from time to time and make the odd chirpy comment? As we all do our best to increase the profile of our blog among the 200 to 300 million other blogs around the world. Well I would be lying if I said that every now and again I do question the point of it all and what I am doing, Lets face it mine is a bit of a quirky blog and of acquired taste, much like myself really. And the world of blogging seems to be rather quiet at present (or it is for me).

I have to say I don’t think I am the only one who has these little moments when I question my reasoning for doing this after all I am not someone who is trying to make an honest crust out of my blog so the incentive of loads of money is not one I am pursuing (much). So should I give it all up and return to the real world full time to make more arty things and give up all this writing into the black voids of cyberspace. . . . . . . .Well NO.

YES the answer is NO and here is why, you see us folk in the decadent West who are moderately well off such as myself (OK it does not always feel like that but the truth is I have a fairly pleasant and chilled life) have the choice to have a blog. We also have the choice to blog about most issues we choose. Yes I think if I was telling you all to up rise and attack sheep with AK47’s and then tell you all how to make a nice bomb several chaps in suits would batter my door down and ask me questions.  You see one of the great paradoxes of free speech is that in order to maintain the values of free speech you need to act against those who are against free speech. They in turn then say they are being suppressed and that our society does not allow free speech because they are not allowed to put forward their views against free speech.  It is all very complex indeed.

In some countries bloggers have died because of their views and in many cases the views they are supporting and blogging about are moderate such as Women’s rights, Equality for all or the right to have a different religious or political views to that of the majority or the state. These bloggers are brave indeed and the minor concerns of some of us in the West that our blog is not as popular as we might have hoped may seem a little trivial to them.  So  I will do my bit for free speech even if its mainly gibberish that almost no one reads or cares about and carry on blogging and point two fingers up at all those who think that only their views are right.  Once you think that only your own views are right then you know for sure that you are wrong, . . . and I know that is right.         

Thursday, 27 August 2015

The origins of well known sayings. A new occasional informative series of posts

Ah yes I knew I had taken a picture of a rookish sort of bird ages ago while at the beach

In order to keep my diary(Yes I think it has sort of drifted from that a bit) and blog lively and interesting, I have decided to add yet another occasional little themed series of posts to it, explaining the meanings of some of those rather bizarre sayings that have become associated with the English language.  Many of them originate from that chap Shakespeare who I’m sure will be sniggering away in the afterlife knowing that he has confused at least Half the worlds population. I mean who has not heard someone at a party quote . . . . An Ass your yoghurt eyes drool in Hell. . .  And we all nod knowingly and agree while thinking WHAT does it mean? Nobody admitting they don’t know either because they think everyone will call them an IDIOT.

So today I will start by explaining one of those sayings that used to be said loads, but has like many sayings gone out of favour.

Yes we start with. . . . TOO Many Rooks spoil the Moth. . . . 

At first glance it looks like complete nonsense but when looked at in the rational light of day (another one of those sayings) does in fact make more sense that it might appear to.  You see Rooks are much larger than a Moth and although they have a mutually beneficial relationship in the world of nature, Rooks can also lead to the downfall of many a moth. Rooks as we all know are the rouges of the bird kingdom, stealing stuff drinking and having wild parties into the night taking illegal substances. Now for a Rook that’s fine they are large enough to handle a few drinks and dodgy drugs, but their mates the Moths are small, one drink and a few puffs of dope and they are away with the fairies (yet another saying to be dealt with later). The moths then get confused and fly about erratically confusing every single light in the world with the Moon, going round in every decreasing circles until they burn up on something hot such as a street light or a security light or similar. Those that don’t then fall prey to Bats, Spiders and Rabbits that find them strangely addictive (well we all know why that is). 

So what this saying is actually telling us as humans, is that some of us are Rooks and some of us are Moths and one or two of us are either Bats, Spiders or Rabbits. I think it is worth giving this some thought and you can always let me know which one you think you are. I have had a long think myself and because of my grumpy unsociable nature combined to the fact I do not drink or take substances of a dodgy nature, but do like Fish and Chips by the seaside I must be more of a seagull. . . . Sadly I can’t remember any well know Seagull sayings right now but give me time I will come up with one yet.     

Wednesday, 26 August 2015

Poetry for a Haunted Café.

There is a café not far Away
Where Mummies and Vampires like to sit all Day
Discussing poetry and the forbidden spells of the Dark
Then they walk their panthers in the Park

And a Ghastly Gruesome Giant Ghoul and a Ghost
Eat small children on bits of Toast
Which they have mid-afternoon with a cup of Tea
With frog spawn paste spread quite Thinly

Where Werewolves serve in their best Sunday Suits
And Banshees fly about while playing Violins and Flutes
And the Living Dead eat the Earl Grey’s Brains.
Drinking tepid water from the putrid Drains

You see . . . . .

Big Bills Greasy Fur Ball Café is the place to Die
But is rather exclusive and you will need to wear a tie
And Tuesday’s are half price Pensioners Day
Where you can eat roast Pensioner . . .  IN
Or have it as a


HAH HAha ha ha hahah ahah h h ha ahah ahah ah hahah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah hah ah ahha ahah hahha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ha

Tuesday, 25 August 2015

Poetry for Fairy Tales

Once upon a time
Dragons breathed Fire
And Knights were noble
And Princesses locked up, in a tall pointy Spire
(It was for their own good, and should be reintroduced).

Where serfs and servants
Had to walk about in the Mud
And Kings hit round tables
With a positive Thud.
Pursuing adventurous tasks
Hunting fleeces and Gold
Fighting huge one eyed monsters
Or so we are Told
And genetically modified beanstalks
Grew high up into the Sky
And up at the top were giants
Who said we are all doing to Die
(Not as in the End of the World on the 21st September 2015, more planning to eat us)

And wizards did spells
Getting swords stuck in a large Stone
Which once pulled out
Would let you sit on a Throne.
And pigs made houses
Out of straw wood or Brick
Annoying hungry honest wolves most intensely
To the point of feeling quite Sick

But those days have all gone . . . . . .  (although not on this Blog)
And folk now poke away at smart Phones
Annoying hobbit's on trains with rather irritating

Ring Tones.

The END. 

Monday, 24 August 2015

The Final enthralling Part (part four) of Boris and the Spider Man . . . all is revealed

Boris was up early the following morning, he needed to be in the office. Since the announcements of the official closure due to government cutbacks things had already started getting packed up, and fast.  He usually walked or used the bus most days but today he felt he was being watched, he got a flash of an elderly guy on the bus, then in a shop window, and then two old chaps on a park bench. He shrugged it off, after all he is a spy and spies are paranoid and they were all old men, but he doubled back and took a taxi anyway. Once a spy always a spy.

 As he entered the department it was a shock, it was half empty and even as he looked around he saw his own desk being loaded up into a van. . . . ITS LIKE THE LAST DAY OF THE CLOSING DOWN SALE AT WOOLWORTHS he said to one of the men sifting everything . . . . SORRY SIR, YES SIR BUT ITS ORDERS FROM THE TOP was the reply. Boris was angry he needed to find out what was going on. He made a few phone calls, but was told he was old school, field agents were not needed anymore it was all desk jobs now, monitoring social media and reading email, Boris was a dinosaur and was being pensioned off. It was a big pension and he should not rock the boat or else.

As evening fell Boris headed to the Zoot Suit Jazz Club alone, he was confused and very angry. He and Irene were a good team and he could not understand how she could be working for someone else. As he entered the half light of the old jazz club he heard a voice saying WELL THANK YOU ZELDA AND THE ZODIACS THAT WAS A GREAT SONG. . . . . WE WILL HAVE A SORT BREAK AND THEN IT WILL BE TONIGHT’S SPECIAL GUESTS THE ZAMBEZI ZITHER QUARTET FOLLOWED BY OUR VERY OWN BLACK WIDOW AND THE SPIDER JAZZ BAND 

As Boris looked round the club he saw the old men he had seen in the morning, alarm bells rang in his head and in the gloom he checked his revolver. As he did so a voice behind said YOU DON’T NEED THAT BORIS . . . He turned, it was Irene  . . . . . . WHATS GOING ON he said I THOUGHT WE WERE A TEAM. . . . . WE ARE . . . LET THE GENERAL EXPLAIN she said smiling.


Later in the early hours Irene and Boris drive back to Boris’s home in a black Mercedes passing an old man, he watches them as they drive past; bending down and carefully sliding a small spider into an old matchbox. As he does so the owner of the Italian coffee shop opposite shouts across the road . . . ANOTHER JOB DONE . . . . The old man nods and turns into the park and through the undergrowth to his forest shack deep in the Patagonian rain forests.


Ooooooo some of you will have noticed that part one was W, part two X part three Y and part four Z from a previous A to Z challenge. . . . .well spotted 

Sunday, 23 August 2015

Poetry for Witches

Witches Witches Everywhere
Over here
And over there
Under beds
Without a care
Waving wands
To try and scare
Witches Witches on Witches brooms
Fly about in darkened rooms
Black cats watching as they play
As the Witches
Fly past . . . . . All night and day
Cauldrons bubble on the fire
As the Witches
Make the spells they desire
Turning princes
Into big green frogs
With eye of newt
And tail of dog
Grumbling other folk say their very bad
Have a warty nose
And might be mad
So sometimes Witches just for spite
Turn the milkman’s milk very pink instead of white
Or tell small children
They are very nice
Before turning them
Into tiny mice
Which the black cat will then Promptly eat
Because as we know
Cats like a bit of furry meat
And so it seems
We have reached the Time
When Witches
Have decided to end . . . . . .  This Rhyme
And some would say


just fine

With one more short and poetic line . . . . . such as


Saturday, 22 August 2015

Part Three of Boris and the Spider Man

It had been a terrible week for Boris, of all the things that could happen the one thing he had not planned on was government cutbacks, and the decision to close his whole department. WHY he thought as he sat on a bench in the park; WHY do this, the department is key to national security. His years of loyalty just dismissed in an instant by an admin man behind a fancy desk.

But WHY now, WHY when he was so close to revealing the true identity of The Spider, could it be coincidence.

As he sat watching the evening sun reading the official papers explaining the closure, an old man sat on the bench and looked up into the oak tree branches above, where a small spider was spinning a strange and complex web.

Boris looked across and thought, WHY do I know his face? I have seen this chap before at the café. . . . . DON’T I KNOW YOU said Boris . . . . The old man turned and SAID NO, BUT YOU MUST BE BORIS. Boris was a bit taken back and just said YES. . . . .  The old man then went on to say YOU ARE SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE, I THINK YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO JAZZ FM TONIGHT TO THE SHOW TRANSMITTED LIVE FROM THE ZOOT SUIT JAZZ CLUB, IT WILL HELP YOU A LOT. Boris was about to ask questions like WHY, but before he could, the old man said . . . . THAT SPIDERS WEB IS AMAZING . . . . . Boris looked up trying to work out why a spider’s web should look like a Seagull holding a saxophone.  Then as Boris turned the old man was gone like a ghost in the mist.

Later back at his flat he turns on the radio and tunes into Jazz FM and hears the following

Tonight we have the new up and coming star of the Jazz scene Miss Ie Ree Ni  Van-Dagraph who’s father was the saxophone player with the well known Dutch jazz band  The Seagulls.

Well Miss Ie Ree Ni I believe your Mother was apparently a well known double agent working for the Chinese military and MI6, you must have had an interesting childhood.

 Yes I must admit I learnt many skills over the years that have come in handy from time to time. . . . . and please call me Irene it is much easier.

I also have been told you were nicknamed The Spider by you parents which is where the name for your band came from. . . . . The Black Widow and the Spider Jazz Band.

Yes that’s true, although I don’t think my boss would approve really . . . but he tends to be too busy to listen to Jazz.

Would you like to say hello just in case he is listening?

Hello Boris sorry to hear about the department, can I keep the car . . . . .

So what’s the first song then

I thought we could start with   . . . . . Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz  . . . It’s a sort of in joke.

With that Boris turns off the radio and phones the florist. . . I NEED TO SEND A ROSE URGENTLY . . .  TONIGHT . . .  TO THE ZOOT SUIT JAZZ CLUB.



Friday, 21 August 2015

Boris and the Spider Man (Part Two)

Well this is part two of the spy thriller now being repeated by popular demand (O Yes It Is. . . .sort of) so if you missed part one then you will be as lost as granny with a Sat-Nav. . . . 


Boris and the Spider Man (Part Two)

It was fast approaching summer, but for two days the rain had fallen relentlessly, folk scurried about with their heads down doing what they had to do paying no attention to the old man as he slowly walked up the street and into Big Bills Greasy Fur Ball Café.

A waitress says HELLO,  he replies IT’S A TERRIBLE DAY, she says YES but is puzzled that his clothes are bone dry CAN I GET YOU SOMETHING she asks.  . . . BACON AND EGGS AND TOAST THANKS . . . . But she is confused DID YOU SAY X  . . .  NO EGGS he says as he slowly slides open an old matchbox in front of him on the table.  As the waitress turns round she is confronted by two men . . . WE ARE HERE FOR THE X the shorter one says in a strong Russian accent. The waitress laughs and says YOU WANT X AS WELL, DO YOU WANT THEM FRIED, the Russian now confused says WE WANT THEM IN A PLAIN BROWN PAPER BAG  . . . . . . . . .  SO A TAKEAWAY THEN, A FRIED X SANDWICH MAYBE said the waitress.  . . . The Russian still confused says TO TAKEAWAY YES, WE WILL WAIT BY THE DOOR.

As they wait impatiently looking at their watches, they fail to notice the Black Mercedes pull up, driven by Irene Van-Dagraph the singer from the night club; Boris sat in the back busy talking on his mobile.

As they get out the car into the constant heavy rain Irene turns to Boris and asks DO WE KNOW WHAT THIS X IS YET, he shakes his head, but gestures at the café window where the Russians are collecting a plain brown paper bag.  The Russians turn and head out leaving without paying, the waitress shouting HANG ON YOU HAVE NOT PAID FOR THOSE X YET.  But the Russians only get a few paces before several men surround them. Boris smiling and saying I THINK THIS TIME WE HAVE YOU. HAND OVER THE BAG.

The Russians have no choice and Boris slowly opens the plain brown paper bag hoping to see X . . .   the secret which has brought two superpowers to the brink of war.  They all peer into the bag in anticipation of its contents, but as they do so the waitress arrives and shouts I HOPE THEY PLAN TO PAY FOR THOSE EGG SANDWICHES, Boris looks up and says DID YOU SAY X but the waitress laughs and says NO I SAID EGGS, I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS UP WITH EVERYONE TODAY AND THAT’S FOR SURE.

Boris looks into the bag at the Fried Egg Sandwiches and says DAMN THAT SPIDER, HE HAS DONE IT AGAIN.

Meanwhile the old man has eaten his breakfast and has decided to take a walk along the docks. Where a young navel cadet is shocked to see the periscope of what appears to be a Russian Nuclear submarine moving slowly in the water, the ripples of the tide forming a definite X marking its position.  X MARKS THE SPOT says the old man amusingly as the young cadet rushes past in panic. 

Thursday, 20 August 2015

THe Big Question. . . . Jeremy Corbyn and the Labour Party Leadership Contest

Every now and again I enter the world of politics, and I am also well known for answering Big Questions of our time, so today (if I manage to get this written in time) I will merge these two themes and deal with the upcoming Labour Party leadership Election.  As it happens I have no say in this as I am not a member of the Labour Party or any other party for that matter due to my bitter cynicism of all things political.

Now everyone here in Britain is well aware that there are four people standing for the leadership one of whom is called Jeremy Corbyn, but in other countries this news may not be important and therefore unknown. If you live in the USA where politics is generally a lot more to the right than in Britain then you might see Mr Corbyn as the child of the Devil and President Putin, this is not correct. He is it appears a rather principled chap but on the left of the political spectrum. The important point as far as I can see is that he is man of principle and stands up for what he thinks is right, OK I don’t know for sure if all his ideas are right, but he says and does what he believes is in the greater interest of the country.

Now it is interesting to ponder why he is standing for leader but I have a theory, you see Labour being Labour likes to be seen as fair, so there are four candidates for leader two women and two men.  Of these four, three are fundamentally main stream, a couple politically in the centre of the Labour Party one is to the right of the Labour Party (remember this is the part of the left. . . I think) and then there is Mr Corbyn on the left of the party. It has been said he was only proposed as a token candidate to keep the left quiet and that no one would support him and he would vanish into obscurity again as an old idealist maverick with his foolish ideas. Sadly for the establishment of the Labour party everything has back fired big time.

Yes you see society has been steadily getting more unequal over the last few years and although some will say the poor are not any worse off than they were; the point is the rich are getting much richer and gap between rich and poor continues to widen.  Well many ordinary folk who are not well off have seen a chance to vote for someone they can relate too, so many have paid their three pound to join the party in order to vote for Jeremy Corbyn the idealist left wing Maverick, which has now made the rest of the party who are all for maintaining the status quo in order to woo the middle classes and business to vote for them come the next General Election. One could argue at the cost of the principles of the Labour Party, but they say it is important to be in power or principles are pointless.  However thousands of ordinary folk are saying HANG ON if power is more important than principles then exactly why should we vote for you, I think we will all vote for that  Jeremy Corbyn the idealist Left wing Maverick.

We appear to now be getting to a point where suddenly certain folk are saying Mr Corbyn is a devil worshipping android monster from the planet Mars and keeps bees in jam jars. And once met a man who ate fish from Harrods.  So far the efforts to discredit Mr Corbyn have back fired and looking at it all from a long way off, it is not doing the Labour Party any good.

My advice is everyone stick to principles and tell those who will be voting what you stand for rather than worry about being in power, that will happen if you are a decent person and folk believe you.

Don’t politicians realise folk just don’t trust them to look after the masses rather than themselves. . . Well it appears at present there is one politician folk are prepared to trust. . . .     

Wednesday, 19 August 2015

Spies, Spiders and Intrigue and a Man called Boris . . . . (Part One)

Because of my business in the real world I am revisiting an old tale of spies, spiders and intrigue because I know that you enjoyed it so much last time that you are all keen to read it again. I know I did and I wrote it, although I did not write it twice I just used the modern delights of copy and paste. Just think once a poor monk would have to write this out loads of times and not make any errors. where I can copy and paste my errors loads of times.

So here we have it . . . Part One of the Four Part thriller called

Boris and the Spider Man

Every child in the World has heard of the Tangerine Flea of New Guinea and it's amazing skills at fishing, but not so many are aware of the equally amazing Intrigue Spider of Patagonia (Spius Thrillerum Suspensos). Yes this little spider gets its name from its web, the so called Web of Intrigue. A web so complex that any critter foolish enough to succumb to the underlying plot will be sucked into it, only to find they are baffled and confused when they discover that the man in the raincoat is not the husband of the woman in the café. And that the old man watching the shop once played the piano in a bar in Berlin back in the days of the cold war. This of course is all just too much for a humble fly or beetle, and as they try and escape they find themselves just a side dish in the great scheme of things where Boris having agreed to a spy exchange walks slowly down a wet alley and climbs into a black Mercedes driven by Irene Van-Dagraph the singer in the night club.  Irene turning to Boris to say . . . . THE FLIES DEAD BORIS, HE HAD HIS BRAINS SUCKED CLEAN OUT. . . . Boris smiles and replies . . . THAT SPIDER IS GOOD, DAMN GOOD, BUT ONE DAY SOMEONE IS GOING TO STAMP ON HIM HARD. As the car vanishes into the mist a small spider can be seen spinning its web on a plain brown paper bag left discretely near the third window from the right on the old MI5 building, a small microphone protruding from the top.

Two young botanists from the local college stop and look intently at the bag and one says GOSH I’M SURE THAT’S THE AMAZING INTRIGUE SPIDER OF PATAGONIA (SPIUS THRILLERUM SUSPENSOS). His friend looks startled and shouts . . . .  RUN . . . . . . But it is too late, they are bundled into the back of a white van which drives off into the night at speed.  The only witness an old man who tells the police that he once played the piano in a bar in Berlin back in the days of the cold war. . . . .

As the old man walks home he bends down and carefully puts a small spider into an old matchbox, and as he does so the owner of the Italian coffee shop opposite shouts across the road . . . YOU STILL HAVE IT THEN . . . . The old man nods and turns into the park and through the undergrowth to his forest shack deep in the Patagonian rain forests.

Tuesday, 18 August 2015

Kitchens, Ducks, Swallows and the Creature from the Black Lagoon

Today has been a big day in the revamped kitchen where much plastering and tweaking has taken place as we battle to try and finish everything. I am not that good at plastering OK I can get away with it in a house with wonky walls but not in a house with flat walls for fairly obvious reasons. So today Mr Chris the builder came to do plastering and between us we removed and adjusted some wiring. 

To add to the interest our little pond at the front of the house had a visit from a female mallard duck and her duckling that spent a bit of time stuffing themselves with pond weed. They were then joined by a large flock of swallows on the power cables in the field next door. Seeing swallows on mass is not a good sight because they tend to do this a week or so before they head south and they head south because they think Autumn is due, it seems a bit early to me but swallows know stuff.  So is nature predicting an early winter, I am not planning on predicting anything more this year after the Queen did not die and the Conservatives won the election. I know I did mention sort of mention the world is due to end on September 21st 2015 at 8.30am GMT, but I like to think of this as more fact than prediction. I mean all that conflict between diametrically opposing dimensions in space and time can only end in the end of something and after the election and the Queen it has all gone seriously wrong and that’s for sure.

Anyway I am rather knackered now and the rest of the night will involve being chilled followed by my re-enactment of The Creature from the Black Lagoon in the shower later where I will scare the glow in the dark plastic duck. I usually try and scare the Elvis plastic duck but he has worked out it is not the creature from the black lagoon but me, so he just thinks I Quackers . . . . . . HA AHAH ha hah ah ah a ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah h ahah ah a ha ha ha hah hah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

I have another very busy day tomorrow where I need to look like I know many things and will be nodding and pointing at stuff in a very knowing way while others nod and look like they know what I’m doing. When the reality is no one will know what’s going on but no one is going to admit that. So very much like the government really only none of us get paid loads of money (well I don’t although the others never say what they get).

Oooooo yes the solar panels manages 1540 kilowatts this quarter so impressive stuff.

Well that’s it for today I need to think of some big questions again and write something interesting, I can feel boredom creeping into the minds of the readers even as I type.    

Sunday, 16 August 2015

A Post from the Past and the End of the World

Back a long line ago on the 21st Dec 2012 I wrote a tale of the End of the World. And I have just read it again as someone had looked at it today. . . I do not know why  anyone would look at one of my old posts, very odd. Anyway I thought I know I will repost it and save myself a load of thinking and writing tonight. When I say a load of thinking the truth is I dont think about any of the posts much, I sit down and just write and hope that the spirits of old writers see the opportunity to feed a few thoughts into my head. It seems to work although It would be nice if the more successful writers turned up rather that a Red Indian called Sitting Bull who cant type and keeps shouting Buffalo in my ear and White man type with forked tongue. Sorry the picture is one of the very early ones before I had worked out how to get them into cyberspace a little better. Anyway this for most of you is how the world ended. . . . . 

So here we are the 21st Dec (AGAIN) only a few short weeks after the predicted End of the World on the 21st December, well what a day that turned out to be  a bit of a surprise for the masses when the first cheese slices started landing across the world. Sadly my diary is not as well read as it should be; and instead of going into hiding large numbers of the population were nibbling cheese.  I think the majority of people in Britain first realized all was not as it should be when David Cameron (the Prime Minister) gave his television statement to the public directly from outside No 10, assuring them it would to be sensible not to panic. His speech was going quite well right up to the point when a huge space gull bit his head off, well that was not expected and the crowds looked shocked, only Nick Clegg seemed to perk up at the opportunity to be Prime Minister but as he stepped up to say a few words to a now bewildered and shocked public he too was plucked off the ground by a space gull and promptly swallowed. From that point onwards mankind was doomed, all that screaming and running about just attracted more Space Gulls. Luckily for us and a few friends dad had anticipated events and had built a large Trojan Space Gull in the garden which we hid in.
It was several days later that the aliens turned up who then set about turning the entire world’s population into DNA bar codes filing everyone away on hard drives. Slowly but surely working their way across the planet until almost everyone was merely a simple barcode, luckily hiding in a nesting (Trojan) Space Gull appeared to the perfect place to avoid detection.
As time passed the weather remained dull wet and cold in Britain as it tends too and the Aliens started to get sore throats, cough and show signs of Man Flu, then they all took to their spacecraft and were heard groaning. From the safety of our Trojan Space Gull we could see several of them staring out of the windows of their space craft looking like Alien Zombies complaining about the cold wet dull weather and Man Flu (apparently the worst illness in the universe). The next thing was they were off; gone; vanished, along with the Space gulls, who by then had eaten all the huge intergalactic cheese slices and French Fries in McDonalds. We waited a few more days but it was safe to leave the Trojan Space Gull then.

Luckily for all of you three things were working to the worlds and your advantage.

1 The aliens appear to all be men and therefore rather more susceptible to Man Flu
2 The hard drives with the world’s populations Barcoded DNA were safe, as they had been accidently left behind by an Alien with Man Flu who had well sort of lost the plot and returned to his spacecraft to go to bed, but left all the important stuff outside.
3 The Ghost Writer was alive and well and hiding in the Trojan Space Gull with us. As you know the Ghost Writer is a genius at IT, and many other things, so he quickly worked out how to reverse the process and return people back to a state of being people again. Well almost as I'm afraid you are all virtual people living in a virtual world created from the networked memory of your barcodes so although it may not feel like it I am afraid you are all living in the hard drive of an old Dell computer under the bench in an orange room which has had the date turned back to the 21st Dec for you to avoid confusion and keep continuity.

 So there we go the world did end for most of you but of course you don’t know that it did because you are in a new virtual world inside an old Dell computer so as long as I don’t press this little button you are fine . . . . . . . . . . . . .AH . . . . .DAMN sorry about that everyone, I will go and have a word with the Ghost Writer

The Ghost Writer says  . . . .IDIOT.

Saturday, 15 August 2015

A Grumpy Old Man, A Fly and Godzilla (Poetry for the Common Man)

A grumpy old man is holding a Pen
Which he waves about
Every now and Again
He’s holding a Pen

A Grumpy old Man has drawn a Fly
A couple of folk
Might just know
He has drawn a Fly

A grumpy old man writes his Blog
And they say he once
Drew a strange little Dog
It was
A dog for the Blog

A grumpy old man drew Godzilla
To write a post
Folk said was not really a Thriller
The appearance of Godzilla

A grumpy old man has just had a Thought
His Pen has run out
And a new one he has not Bought

It’s the End

Thursday, 13 August 2015

A Very Strange Blog Guest Interview

Hello Rob

O NO what do you want

I have come to help with this blog post

What blog post I’m not writing a blog post

I think you will find that you are now


Look we can do one of those guest interviews that folk like to do

OK but keep it sensible

What, really don’t you trust me I mean I will just ask a few simple questions so the readers get to know all about you . . . . . sort of, a bit.


Well Rob All this writing you do here what is all that about, I mean you do realise its all futile and that no one is remotely interested in any of it don’t you.

Hang On that’s a bit of an aggressive start for an interview

Well I thought I would do a political one, folk like politics

Are you sure. I thought they preferred cute cats on YouTube.

Now dont change the subject Mr Tobor you need to answer the question YES or NO.


No not what that tells us nothing we need to know exactly where you stand.

I stand on the floor although at present I am sitting at a desk typing.

I think we can all see that. . . You once  operated a machine called a UFO didn't you. You were called a UFO Pilot.


Exactly an Unidentified Flying Object. . . You are in fact an Alien aren’t you

No I’m not and UFO stands for Underwater Flying Observer it was one of those ROV’s (remotely operated vehicles) it was a submarine and I didn’t go in it I just operated it from the surface.

And you were a tea blender at one time

Yes but it was a terrible job, No one wants to be a tea blender in Dante’s Inferno, so I ran away and hid.

And you stopped a runaway truck once didn’t you.


I was an ace skateboarder when no one else was interested and I was sort of passed by a truck with no driver so I leapt into it all heroically and stopped it

And what happened

I got lots of angry looks from passing pedestrians who thought I was the driver so I ran away and hid

You have been run over by cars once or twice too, surely after the first time you would take more care.

Yes but sometimes it is not easy to leap out of the way particularly when various bits are slightly faulty and you go round in small circles when moving too quickly. A result of folk attacking you with a car.

The punters are bored now so time to go.

OK yes thanks for your help. . . . . I think

And you are looking a bit off colour Rob.                

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

The terrible tale of the Worlds Deadliest Bird

Back in 1871 when Caruthers Kipling was searching for rare Birds of Paradise in Papua New Guinea for his extensive collection of stuffed Animals, he heard from one of the local tribes of a strange bird that was feared and that they had been forbidden from even looking for, It was said by the tribe to mean certain death and they called it the Ohno bird as this is what folk generally shouted if they saw it.  Caruthers of course was keen to find it and once he started to look found it rather easily. Making note of its location he made notes and decided to have a good nights sleep before capturing the bird the following day.

Sadly the following morning he was found dead having had a heart attack in his sleep. A couple of years later the famous naturalist Sir Flyby Knight read of the bird in Caruthers Kipling’s journal kept in the archives of the Natural History Museum and set off to find the small bird.  Again he found it very easily at the location as described by Caruthers Kipling.  He set up a hide to monitor the birds but a tragic accident with his gas lamp meant he sadly died in a fire within his own hide.

This made the bird rather famous and several expeditions set off to find the small bird but all ended in tragedy when an unforeseen storm hit the area where the small bird lived.  The Ohno Bird then became known in Britain as the Grim Reaper Bird and for a while no one ventured to visit its habitat.

In 1905 an American team visiting Papua New Guinea looking for oil and mineral deposits decided to look for the bird and again found it much easier than they anticipated the small team of mining executives were rather underwhelmed by the plain little bird. We know this because they were speaking on their transmitter when a huge herd of Forest Rhino stampeded through their camp. Apparently spooked by soldier ants. It was said one of the members survived for a couple of days and did give a rather detailed description of the bird.

Over the years several adventurers attempted to capture the bird but alas all ended in terrible accidents or illness. Eventually in 1953 the flamboyant American Billionaire Harry Ramjet Jefferson decided to blow up the entire valley where the small bird lived in order to rid the world of this terrible doomsday beast. He set up an entire series of explosive charges over a range of several miles although he never saw the bird during this process,  his wife Jenny Jefferson later said he was concentrating on setting the charges and never thought about the bird. However when he hit the button to set the charges off nothing happened.  He was then forced to enter the valley, which in the interest of safety; he did alone to check the cables and igniters.  His wife later told the Press his last words were. . . . . Its all sorted Darling I'll be back in a minute . . . . . What  . . . . . Ohno. . . . . There was then a huge explosion and that was that.

It was thought this was the end of the Ohno Bird, but in 1975 three well known naturalists making a wildlife programme for the BBC entered the valley and were never seen again. And in 2002 a Japanese camera crew were somehow strangely all electrocuted by their own equipment in the monsoon rains.

A Russian team in 2013 hunting for the bird with AK47’s, antitank weapons and several crates of Vodka also all tragically died but it is thought this was not related the Ohno Bird as they were in the wrong valley.

Look Folks dont make me write any more that is three days in a row I have had to draw a picture and make stuff up on the spur of the moment.  I just cant keep it up . . . . . . . . No wonder these stories are getting a bit dodgy . . . . I mean PHEW. . . I have many other things to do you know. . . .

OOOoooo look what's that. . . . .. OHNO.