Wednesday, 30 September 2015

Poetry for Roald Dahl

I was once in a café with that chap Roald Dahl drinking tea

When he peered inside my teacup to see what he could see.

And then he told me of the strange things that among the tea leaves were going to be

Like Matilda and Witches, a Big Giant, a Fox and a little vampire Bee? . . .

And that one day he would sit on the shelves of a very posh library.

Well that was plainly mad so I said, I must go.

So we both went home

And Roald Dahl wrote of the things the tea leaves seemed to show

As well as many others things while his enthusiasm was in full flow

Meanwhile I was at home trying to sit on my IKEA bookcase shelf

Which I think I proved was impossible, unless I was a rather small tiny elf.

Then blow me if Roald Dahl did not acquire some well deserved fame.

While I fell off my thin bookshelf into obscurity, which was really not my quest or aim

But life is fickle and can be a bumpy ride

And when Roald Dahl now sees me

He will




I threw a Giant Peach at him once just to annoy him

I don’t know why he runs away and hides I mean I congratulated him on his film with that snowman and a small child in, who spent a lot of time annoying folk by singing in a high pitched voice for ages. I have even been round to his house a few times and sung . . . . I’m walking in the air. . . . . .  Though his letterbox. Apparently the police said he would appreciate it if I did not turn up at three o’clock in the morning, and he has even denied having anything to do with snowmen . 

Well he cant trick me with his cunning unexpected tales, telling me he has a ferocious vampire bee guarding his house. And I was told he even has a secret hidey-hole which he accesses though a secret door which involves climbing over his bookshelves.       

Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Poetry for the UNDEAD (and folk called Dave)

If you lie on the ground
Worms will sneak up on you without a sound

And then in your mouth they will play
And if you do not wake up, will stay there all day

Then fungi will slowly grow on your toe
As signs of decay start to show

And as you sleep even deeper and longer
You will start to smell, and the smell will get stronger

All your friends will then avoid your stare . . . (not easy when the cat is playing with your eyeball on a stair)
Except Dave who will stick a moustachio on your face for a dare

(Because this is what your mate Dave tends to do)
But even the moustachio will finally fall off, when you twitch about and sneeze and cough

Then bits of you will fall out of your skin
And folk will discuss throwing your remains in a Wheelie bin

But by now you are not so nice
As your slimy bits are eaten by mice.

The good news though. . . . Well it was Dave that said
You are now one of the( rather popular with children)


HAH AH ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah haah ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ahah a ha haha ha ha ha ha ha 

Monday, 28 September 2015

The Red Planet (Mars) DNA Programming and the Great Martian Quest

OK not great pics of the Blood Moon but I was quite pleased 
bearing in mind my dodgy telescope and camera

Have you noticed an interesting trend towards Mars based stuff, even as I type this those clever chaps at NASA are telling the world of the discovery of water still appearing on the surface of Mars in recent times. And it is worth considering that recently there has also been growing talk of trips to Mars. And even the private sector has talked of such things in the future, telling folk to book now for a window seat.

But is there more to all this than meets the eye is it possible that us humans are just part of a cunning plan by Martians. You see long before man was running about and pointing telescopes into space it was said that Mars would have probably had an Earth like atmosphere and environment. If life on the planet developed in the same way as it has on Earth then it is possible that millions of years ago Mars might have had highly intelligent life, long before Earth was even capable of supporting any life as such, even at cellular level

It is also possible that this intelligent life was aware for what ever reason that their own planet was doomed for many millions of years as far as any form of reasonably sized critter was concerned. So what they did was seeded Earth with the DNA of their own species knowing that one day an intelligent creature would eventually evolve that would be programmed to return to Mars and re-inhabit it.  So rather that Man going boldly into space it might be man is genetically programmed to return to Mars because that is our original home. A bit like we all like to go to the sea and watch it for hours, when the reality is its just water splashing about. But its sort of in our DNA we came from the sea, the point is did the critters that evolve in the sea start as a genetic engineering project by Martians.

Look at what happened last night at 3:00 am here in Britain, we were all out looking at the Moon . . .  A Red Moon. Now we are all told it was red because the Earth obscures the sun and the resulting effect is a Red Moon, but maybe not.

Mars is called The Red Planet maybe this Red Glow is some sort of strange beam from the Planet Mars enhancing mans desire to go to Mars, even the background glow of the universe is called The Red Shift.  You see it is all adding up, just how many films have been made about Aliens from Mars, OK sometimes they make films with aliens from other planets but they are few in number in comparison.
I think in a few thousand years the remains of Mankind will be looking towards Earth from Mars and laughing hysterically about us, finally knowing we were merely a stepping stone in the great Martian plan to return to their own planet to recolonize it. Mankind will no longer be Mankind by then, they will be 100% Martians and there is nothing we can do to stop it.

Except maybe. . . . . . . . . . No I’m sure you don’t really want to know. 

I bet that Professor Brian Cox is a Martian.              

Sunday, 27 September 2015

A Fairytale involving Fate, Wizards, Wisdom, Perilous Journeys and the voice of the enchanted Fleezleboo

Once upon a Time (yes its fairytale time again) there was a famous wizards conference, held every couple of years in the Great Kingdom of Eek, in the Province of Illuminations near the famous cursed lake known to all as The Black Pool in the town of Rowlingside. A popular location for conferences among wizards, witches and various other groups ever since that Harry Potter was seen scurrying about near Rowlingside fish and chip shop, before he became all religious and vanished forever into the Holy Wood.

Now as is always the way in fairy tales the journey (to the conference) is very perilous and wizards sometimes do not make it, due to attacks from the dark witches, monsters and various evil spirits. It has even been know for wizards not to go, but this is frowned upon, as it is seen as a rite of passage to prove the worth of the wizard and his skills at wizardry and cunning guile.  And it means they generally all have a great tale to tell during evenings at the bar.

There is no easy route as each has its own hazards, from the terrible Angry Mountains of Fear to The Plains of Madness.  However our tale is of two wizards, the wise Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table and the foolish Professor Hamish Pikefish Flounder who decided they would travel together.  They had decided to travel through The Valley of Mystical Mists, a strange world that when the sun shines can be an easy passage for a wizard travelling to conference. But once the mists appear them it is said it is best not to move and that you need to take cover, and under no circumstances listen to the voices of the enchanted Fleezleboo. The voice of the Fleezleboo is very convincing and will tell wizards many things in order to trick them into fatal errors of judgement, which is why it is best to be a wise wizard rather than a foolish wizard.

Our two wizards travel fast and easily make it most of the way through the valley during daylight, but as sunset arrives so does the strange Mysterious Mists. Spotting a large Oak tree to spend the night in they climb high into its canopy, knowing that high up in the branches of the ancient oak they are safe. And so it is that they sleep peacefully until morning when they conjure up bacon, sausage and eggs and Scotch pancakes with maple syrup and smoked kippers. Happily eating their breakfast until the mist clears and they can complete their journey.

As they chat and ponder the vast sea of mist below them from their vantage point in the oak tree a serene voice from below calls to them. . . . It’s safe now you can come down and go to conference. . .  Well the wise Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table is not going to be fooled by the voice of the Fleezleboo and shouts down we are not fools we know that if we do we will be bitten by a huge centipede turning us into Zombies and then earwigs will bore into our brains and eat them and then the Toe-dy Beast will nibble our toes and finally our bodies will be eaten by slugs.

Then the voice says. . . .  No No it is me, Miss Granger from those films, I am guest speaker it is quite safe. . . .  Well the foolish Professor Hamish Pikefish Flounder says . . . . OOOO I always wanted to meet her . . . and leaps to the ground. Well I think you can guess what happens. . . . He is bitten by a huge centipede turning him a Zombie and then earwigs bore into his brain and eat it, and then the Toe-dy Beast nibbles his toes and finally his bodies is eaten by slugs.  Well the wise Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table shakes his head and says he was a foolish wizard to believe such a lie.

He waits patiently in the tree watching the mist slowly burn off in the sun until it is almost gone, when the faint voice of the Fleezleboo says look out for that dragon I would get out of that oak tree if I was you, but  Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table is very wise and laughs. Then the very next second a huge Dragon swoops out of the sky and eats him.

Which just goes to show the hand of fate does not look upon the wise or foolish any differently and you just can’t tell what is going turn up out of the blue. . . . .  But it is very unlikely to be Miss Granger.     

Saturday, 26 September 2015

A short list of What I did not do today, and things that did not happen

Over the many years I have been writing my blog I have told you of the many things I have done, as well as write the odd fable, fairytale and poem. But tonight I plan to do something entirely new. You see tonight I will not be writing about what I did but will write about what I did not do today; amazingly there are a lot of things I did not do today far more that I realized, so this is just a small list merely scratching the surface so to speak

I did not actually scratch the surface (despite the old saying which implied I did)

I have not watched a small snail travel across a large stone

I did not sneak up on the international space station and shout BOO at the astronauts

I never waved a pointy stick at a group of little old ladies who were chasing swans

I never ate a large snake

I did not run about shouting QUACK

And I never stood on my head on the ridge tiles of a very tall building

I did not wear a very very bright pink leopard print cowboy hat (AH DAMN actually I did do that today sorry)

I did not draw any pictures

I never spoke to a strange Zombie like creature who juggled mice and laughed in a hysterical manner

I never climbed a large mountain in a wet suit and slippers

I did not mutter under my breath at a load of cyclists on the road (AH DAMN sorry I did that today)

I was not caught leaping over the moon in a superman outfit

I never bought a superman outfit

I did nothing what so ever that had any link to anyone remotely resembling superman

I did not pretend to be a chicken and try to rob a bank

I never fixed a broken pen (OK I tried but it was futile)

I never did anything futile (AH DAMN AGAIN)

I did not see a submarine or a seagull

I did not sing old sea shanties at passers by

I did not deliberately avoid the cracks in the pavement (well not today)

And I did not sell any snow to penguins who might have been hanging about

I did not hang about

I did not write anything that might be considered remotely sensible by either that very nice Steven Spielberg or Mrs J K Rowling who its starting to think I'm mad

Neither Steven Spielberg or J K Rowling phoned me up to say . . . Nice Blog Rob, sorry about the injunction but you know what its like. . . . 
I was not bitten by a vampire bat or a Zombie

I never ate the tortoise. . . .Honest

I did not get wet

Anyway this as I have previously said is a very short abbreviated list of what I have not done today and I may tell you again at some time about what I have not done or I may not.

Friday, 25 September 2015

Poetry for Sea Monsters

There is a beast deep in the sea
That they say looks a bit like me
With its long tentacles with suckery things
Which it can coil up like coiled springs
And it has a strange and scaly head
But has no face or so it has been often said
And its fins are fine and look like lace
And can completely vanish without a trace
And in the gloomy dark it will start to glow
With an iridescent and green fluorescent luminous light show.
Long talons and rows of sharp pointy teeth
Will catch its food on its favourite reef
It has big black eyes that number twenty five
So once it spots you then you will not survive
And it will often howl and let out eerie moans
And in times of famine can live entirely on small rocks and stones
Strangely though it looks rather regal
With it majestic horns and beak like that of an eagle
And it lays eggs on the shore buried in the sand
Which it makes quickly with a hideously deformed hand
And its body is blue
And it can swallow a whale
But it is just possible
This poem
Is a slightly exaggerated tale
Which is something seafaring folk tend to do
And fishermen
And Astronauts
And others 

like Poets too 

Thursday, 24 September 2015

Houseflies . . . . .What is their cunning game

As you know I live in the countryside with the woods to one side of us the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence behind us and rolling fields full of cows and the local village. I say village it is almost a village it is not big, but we do have a village hall which has its Friday market due to a twist of fate, and a rather good health food store that has been here for almost ever.

Now being rural with cows peering over the hedge at us and water (sort of) behind us means we do see rather a lot of flies in the summer, yes even the rural ideal has its little annoying issues and flies are a bit of a pain at times. But for reasons I have assumed must be connected to some sort of long term change in the world order or even linked to alien invasion, this year the flies have mutated. Yes they still look like your average housefly being blackish with six legs and wings but they are now ferocious and aggressive. 

I mean flies have always been a bit annoying but not actively aggressive dive bombing you and hitting you in the face. Flying directly at you rather than thinking OOOOoooo is a huge human I better get out the way. So why has this happened it is not something I have seen before. As I have said it must be something like aliens or the like.  I know aliens are a long shot but just imagine if insects coordinated their attack on us poor unsuspecting humans with our soft sensitive skin. I heard that once on a TV advert so it must be true, not that the insects had coordinated their attack on us, but that we have soft sensitive skin.

Another thought was maybe this is a global warming thing because insects can adapt much faster to environmental change than other critters which is why some beetles moths and other insect critters from warmer climates have been seen in Britain but not larger things such as Panthers, wallabies, porcupines and pterodactyls . . . . . AH DAMN. . .   No the point is all the big ones have been brought here by folk who then get bored and let them go, where as the little insects have made their way here by choice.

Still I may not know exactly why the flies are so aggressive (its aliens for sure), but they are; which is why we have a big glowing flyzap in the kitchen.  Finally I will say you can not but be impressed by a fly sat on the edge of a very hot frying pan like it has not got a care in the world trying to work out how to steal my bacon as it cooks. 

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Did Volkswagen (VW) cheat . . . . . The Big Question Answered

It appears that poor old VW, (Volkswagen) have fallen foul of American car emission laws by doing a sneaky, but it may not be quite as bad as it appears at first. And as far as I can see Volkswagen themselves may have fallen on their sword a little too quickly, and I will explain why.

You see the world has pointed at them, well American have and shouted cheats cheats cheats stand in the naughty corner. . . and Volkswagen has slumped off stuck the naughty hat on and are feeling very down about it. Well they would do this because in many ways they are the equivalent of the school swot within the world of car manufacturing, something some of our American friends have always resented a bit what with one thing and another.

Now imagine you are the school swot and in an exam you are asked the question. . . . What do you know about the effects of Blue shift when dealing with light refraction in neon. . .  You think a second and then answer . . . I know nothing about the effects of Blue shift when dealing with light refraction in neon. . .  It is not the answer that is wanted but it is a right answer and you get your ten points for getting it correct. No one else thought about that and so did not write anything. Then afterwards the teacher tells the whole class what you did to make you feel bad, but was it wrong or was it a way of getting the points by giving an answer that complied to the question. . ????

You see this is at the heart of what Volkswagen did. They did not set out the test that the car was subjected to, in order to test the emissions of vehicles on roads in the USA, that was done by the American authorities. But back in Germany a rather clever software geek who looked at the test realised that the software that controls the emissions could be set to give a really great answer to the test, because the test conditions were fixed and rather predictable.  Now to me that is a bit cynical and underhand maybe, but not cheating, all it means is the test was wrong, in the same way the question. . . . . What do you know about the effects of Blue shift when dealing with light refraction in neon . . . . Is phrased wrong so that an answer can be given that is not actually the one required.   

A couple of years ago in Britain there was a huge scandal where politicians could manipulate their expenses to claim all sorts of stuff from duck houses to soft furnishings and posh televisions and the like. The politicians did not all put their hands up and say. . . .  sorry we cheated. . .  No they all said. . . we did not break the law. . . . in other words they were morally dodgy and corrupt, and may well still be for all I know, but it was not what might be called cheating more creative accounting.

And this is the key issue with Volkswagen have they really cheated or have they just made their vehicles fit the rules in a rather immoral way. It might seem a small point, but can you fine a firm for doing this . . . .  I suspect not, they have not actually broken the law.

One other point is that the emissions tests are a little pointless anyway because drivers all drive differently; do they have any relevance to a boy racer, granny, a commuter driving through the city each day, or a farmer sticking red diesel in his car or the man locally who ran his van on old chip shop cooking oil. . . That was one smelly van.  I think we can say No. Few folk drive their cars in a technically efficient manner.

If Volkswagen would like employ me to defend them in the American courts I will consider the offer although I am not cheap and don’t have a passport, so would need plenty of warning. . . . And I am very scruffy and don’t drive a Volkswagen but will if they give me one.

OOoooooo one other small point. Had Volkswagen supplied rigged non production cars to be tested in order to comply then that is cheating, but it appears all their cars have this cunning bit of software so that may not be right but it is not actually wrong (Legally speaking).

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

How to Write a very Traditional Old School Fairytale Starting with Once Upon a Time

The trick to. . .  How to Write a very Traditional Old School Fairytale Starting with Once Upon a Time . . . is very simple indeed. Just go for it. . . A bit like this one

Once upon a time in the far distant past in a land ruled by a fairly typical King and Queen as often seen or read about in fairy tales, there was a young princess. Yes you have guessed it she was in fact the daughter of the King and Queen and was very beautiful. Now being a princess and also young and beautiful made the wicked witch of the woods very very angry. Partly because she was not young and beautiful, but also because wicked witches in fairy tales are generally grumpy and always end up having a rotten time. Some would probably argue this is their own fault and if they were nice to folk all would be well. But they are wicked witches and that would be silly and ruin a good fairytale, and witches do love a good fairytale and will often turn up for no good reason what so ever.

Now it just so happens that one day the Wicked Witch of the Woods met the princess as she was riding through the woods heading no where in particular and the witch told the princess she had put a terrible spell on all the handsome princes in all the kingdom. And that if the princess wanted to meet her husband to be (as princesses have a habit of doing in fairy tales) she would need to kiss every frog she saw . . . .  (Obviously because the wicked witch had turned the handsome prince into a frog). Only it was a lie; the wicked witch had not turned any princes into frogs and the witch left laughing hysterically as witches do.

Well from that day onward the Princess went around looking for frogs kissing every single one she found much to the embarrassment of the King and Queen who kept introducing all the best princes to the princess as prospective husbands, but to no avail as she was convinced that Mr Right (the prince) was in fact a frog.

In the end out of desperation the King offered half his kingdom to anyone who could stop the princess kissing all the damn frogs, by now she had started a breeding program and there were frogs everywhere. Well on hearing this, a passing minstrel said he could do this that very night, but he insisted that he also got to marry the princess. The King agreed as by now many many wizards, knights, mathematicians and every prince in the land had tried and failed to stop the princess kissing frogs.

As night fall arrived the young Minstrel slipped into his Pantomime Frog outfit he used for his Christmas play and went and sat among the bulrushes at the edge of the royal lake. So it was that a short time later the princess on her nightly quest to find frogs spotted him. . . . OOOOOoooo you are big. . .  she said and gave him a big kiss, as she did so the minstrel unzipped the Pantomime frog suit and leapt out.  . . . OOOOOoooo you are big . . . . Said the princess and the very next day they were married and lived happily ever after

O NO they didn’t

O yes they did

O No they Didn’t . . . (continuing the pantomime theme a bit longer).

So . .  O yes they DID.

Well actually they did not, you see the princess it appeared rather liked kissing frogs all the time and insisted the poor minstrel dress up as a frog each night. The pair of them then leapt and frolicked about in a large lake chirping and croaking and various other things that should not be mentioned in a children’s fairytale.   Well this was all very exciting for the princess, but the poor old minstrel now a prince decided it was all a bit strange so he ran off and was never seen again. . . Although it is said he got a job as a pantomime dame in the west end and married Peter Pan (who is a woman. . . Yes I don’t know why Peter Pan is always a woman either).

As for the Princess she is happy in her palace breeding rare frogs and still kissing them just in case. I will not got into the details of Bath Night . . . . 

And the Wicked Witch of the Woods lived happily ever after, well someone has too this is a fairy tale its tradition

O No she didn’t

O Yes She did. . . . . . You see it’s my fairytale so . . . . YA SUCKS BOO.    

AH NO. . . . actually she didn’t


Monday, 21 September 2015

A Cautionary Tale of Love and the Curse of the Living Dead


Once upon a time in the land of Britainium was a very very posh wizard school where all the really wealthy folk sent their young wizards to learn how to be a wizard. The problem was the young wizards were in general a bunch of spoilt brats who did not always listen to their teachers and would mess about and shout hoorah henri a lot at passers by.  Then one day a certain young wizard called David Volderon fell in love with a young Zombie from Denmark who was one of the walking dead who helped to feed the posh wizards in the Kitchen. He knew she was from Denmark because she had a huge tattoo saying Danish right down one side, It was something the young Zombie had always regretted but at the time it was a bit of a trend among the Danish Walking Dead.  Anyway our young hero and the love of his life who he called Miss Piggy, due to the fact she would squeal rather a lot during their love making . . .  The details of which I will not go into as this is a child friendly blog.  

The trouble was Young David was an ambitious little wizard and knew that a relationship with one of the living dead would not be looked on favourably with the masses and so he dumped his young Danish partner and left her to rot in the kitchens where she was left to serve bacon, pork pies and various other cuts of meat to the pupils. She eventually vanished but not before it was said she cursed David Volderon; telling him she would return one day to haunt him like a decaying full English Breakfast and that he would never be able to eat a bacon butty ever again without hearing the sounds of wild bores every day in his vast office and his place of work, and that the disgrace of what he did to her would live on forever.

At the time he and his friends mocked her and laughed thinking who does this foolish person think they are with their piggy ears, piggy nose, piggy mouth and a small curly tail and large tattoo. But as we all now know the terrible curse has risen from out of the dark and poor David Volderon has even been deserted by his faithful pet (all wizards have pets) Kermit the Dog.

I said it might be the End of the World today and it appears for one poor chap it sort of has been. I suspect sleeping on the sofa tonight might be on the cards.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Poetry for Parents Driving Cars and Poetry for Music Lovers

Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD
No No there is a long way to go
Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD
I just said we are not, and the traffic is quite slow
Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD
No I have just said, why don’t you play I Spy
Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD
No, will you stop asking or I will hit you with the cat and that will make you Cry
Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD
Look up there in the sky it’s a large Vampire Zombie Rook.
That eats small children that ask stupid questions
Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD
Just keep quiet and read a book
Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD
OK that’s it I have had enough

DAD. . . .Why have you locked me in the Boot I cant see.
Are we nearly there yet . . . . . . . DAD


DAD. . . . . . . . . The Cats Dead.

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

I do love some of that Franciscan Funk

And a bit of Hip Hop from Thelonious Monk

Plus a bit of Opera from those chaps at Motown

Or the famous Water Music by that chap Arthur Brown.

Or even that song Nineteen Ninety Nine by Arthur C Clark

And the Star spangled Banner as played at Woodstock by Johann Sebastian Bach

Who as we all know played saxophone with the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band . . . . just for a lark.

Although these days

I do have a problem remembering who plays and sings what

And folk say I am loony and have completely lost the plot.

Mind You

I once played the Bermuda triangle in the band at School

But I was told using a violin bow

Made me look like a fool.

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Gardens and Motivations . . . . and the thoughts of the Jabberwocky

With the kitchen Diner fast reaching a point of completion and the prospect of a sunny weekend, I was sent into the garden to do battle with the ever impregnable vastness of it. Phew it has grown somewhat in the last month or so since I last took some serious notice of it. So it was a good opportunity to test the newly refurbished Steam Powered Strimmer, a device with a history of great fickleness and the ability to sulk for days on end. But today it was in a chirpy mood indeed and we set off in perfect harmony into the lush greenness of what was once called a Lawn.

Now I was not really so keen on this at the start of the day but was talked round with the prospect of something exciting for our evening meal such as slow roasted Japanese Godzilladom with crispy fried Welsh Dragon Scales and Wizards Balls. . . . NO NO not those balls, this is a child friendly blog you lot, but truffles and Saffron covered in the gold leaf and crushed fairy wings and sprinkled with the unknown thoughts of the Jabberwocky and a bit of maple syrup. Followed by Ice Cream covered in fresh Double Cream and Walnuts and a bit of Strawberry Crumble.  It’s one of those recipes from that book . . . Fantastic Feasts and How to Eat Them . . .  Written by that well known author  . . . . . . . . . . Ah . . . . thingy. . .  what’s their name?  Apparently it has been rewritten and all those recipes for wizards like roast or barbecued beasts and dragons have been removed as it was making small children cry. So the new book has no recipes and its name has been changed a bit, and have you ever tried to buy fresh eye of newt and wing of bat in Sainsbury’s, its not easy.

Anyway I have cut the grass at the front today and if all goes well will set too on the jungle round the back of the house tomorrow. . . . . AH yes that meal, well due to certain issues and not actually having any Welsh Dragon Scales at present we had Pizza, and the cat ate the fairy, I warned them not to flap those wings near the cat.  Still it was a rather tasty Bat Wing Pizza with a bit of spiced Jabberwocky so I was quite happy.

I am well knackered though so will go and chill for a while.

AH the cat has been sick . . . . . . YUCK.       

Friday, 18 September 2015

Poetry for Scotland . . . . Plus a Porpoise And a Tortoise

If you find that Scotland
Is in your Soul and Heart
You may travel many Miles
But you will never Part

Across many Mountains
And many wild wild Seas
But no matter where you Travel
You will hear Scotland on the Breeze

And when at last you find
You leave this Mortal Coil
Your Heart and Soul will once again

Return to Scotland’s Soil

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

 What is the purpose of the Porpoise?
And his close Cousin
The Giant Tortoise
As neither seemed to like me much
When I tried to breed them
In My Rabbit Hutch

No No I know what you are thinking, I am not a fool I kept the rabbit hutch in the bath which was full of water.  My experiment only failed because it appears the porpoise did not eat lettuce leaves and did eat Giant Tortoise. Well it never said that in my book . . . Fantastic Beasts and How to Breed Them . . . Written by that well known author  . . . . . . . . . . Ah . . . . thingy. . .  what’s their name?

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


I saw a Porpoise
And a Tortoise
Walking Hand in Hand
And on the beach 
In the sun
They wrote
Mathematics in the sand

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Kitchen Floors, Strangers, and the End of the World

Today we had strangers in the house not as in sneaking in but as in expected, but they were folk I did not know and I don’t like having folk I do not know in my own house. To make matters slightly worse they were doing work in the house, I do not like folk doing work for me if I don’t known them, particularly in my own home. Just before they arrived in their van they phoned and a rather chirpy Jack the Lad sort of chap explained they would be arriving soon in a rather chirpy Jack the Lad sort of way.  They were on their way to lay the new vinyl flooring in the kitchen diner. I had laid ply down removed the skirting boards and filled any gaps so that all was nice and easy so they were dead chuffed when they realized all that had been done. It also meant they were able to complete the work much quicker than they had planned and left a couple of hours later still chirpy and smiling well ahead of schedule so that they could get another job done before heading home.

So it means the kitchen  diner is starting to take shape and is just starting to look a bit posh which is all a bit odd really because I am not posh and very very dishevelled and rickety. So there is not a great deal left to do, a bit of electrics and I have to remove all the plastic film from the IKEA units so that instead of a dullish mat red there will be a high gloss shiny red allowing folk to see my reflection in all the units glowing red at them in a scruffy dishevelled fashion. . . A bit like a shabby devil with unkept hair and a grumpy disposition.

I heard from a friend earlier who was having a bit of a family issue with a member of his family clutching the lawn in a vice like grip and refusing to let go. I think they were trying to talk the person off the lawn, but last I heard they were still fixed fast to the ground.

Now if you remember I did say 21st September was the End of the World and I was just wondering if this was the first stage. One of the things you might expect to happen if the End of the World does occur is folk clutching the ground and refusing to let go. It is entirely logical because if the world is going to vanish the best chance you have of being a survivor is to be hanging onto it as best you can. . . . . I am at present hedging my bets because I have just had a posh new floor put in the kitchen diner so if the world does not end I will be able to eat in a posh room although still looking a bit tramp-ish in my own general appearance.     

Wednesday, 16 September 2015

Geese, Cats, Fame and the Workings of the Mind

To Write Right
Can be Rotten
If you start to Write
And Find


Well that about says it all it a sort of short poetic and lyrical way, or does it . . . . .

AH yes it appears it does. 

Have you ever found this . . . It happens to me all the time, I will be somewhere doing something fairly everyday like maybe hunting for the cat who has decided to eat next doors cat because he does not like it. And . .  As has just happened about five minutes ago had a large flock of Canada Geese in a huge V formation shouting their heads off fly right over the top of you at about thirty of forty feet high (OK it was rather awesome to tell the truth). But the thing is while hunting the cat I was pondering an interesting tale about stuff, and maybe in fact without any doubt the best poem I have ever thought of. .. . NO its true it was the one that would have finally propelled me into the spotlight of stardom with millions of folk going OMG or ME or other such comments on Twitter every time I tweet as happens to that Mrs J K Rowling when she tweets, which must be a bit annoying, but I enjoy doing it 3589 times or so to cheer her up. Actually I think she might be avoiding me again, and the fake JK Rowling has gone into hiding too. 

AH sorry I got distracted a bit. . . As I said I had the poem and tale to tell (type) but then after the distraction of the geese I could not remember how it was all going to actually fit together and when I sat down it all turned into a mush of foolish words, total nonsense in a sea of nonsense which made no sense like much my typing and tales at times. 

So now I have to consider if seeing a rather awesome flock of geese shouting at me flying just over my head as I shouted AWESOME back at them waving, was worth the loss of all that fame and fortune from my totally brilliant post tonight, which is now lost in my mind forever. . . . . . . I have given this much (30 secs) thought and what is fame and fortune anyway in relation to the wonders of nature. . . . So tomorrow I will be waiting with a large pointy stick HAH HAH aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha . . . . .  Goose for Christmas dinner me thinks      

Tuesday, 15 September 2015

How (NOT) to respond in important meetings

I spent today at an important meeting, well sort of important, I will admit right now that unless I have some paper to hand to make notes on I am not good at important meetings. Unfortunately I did not have any paper today to make notes on, so all was not well and I got a bit distracted and started to join in the meeting. Sadly the acoustics were extremely bad and much of the time folk could not hear what people were saying so some of the meeting was confused. Apparently my Indian war chant did not help matters or pointing out that the battered chicken things on the lunch buffet looked just like deep fried rat. 

Then the man next to me started complaining about the fact he could not hear the speaker so I said . . .  HALF PAST SEVEN BUT I THINK IT STOPS IN BIRMINGHAM AND YOU WILL NEED TO TAKE A CLEAN TEA BAG. . . .  He did not speak to me after that and thought I was a mad man. I did explain I did not have a piece of paper to take notes, but by then the meeting was well into the afternoon so even if I did get some, time was against me. 

To tell the truth I don’t actually take real notes at these meetings I draw Zombies and the like and pretend to take notes. Generally I find no one is that interested in what I am drawing and assume I need to take notes, and I do look up at key moments and nod and look at folk in a knowing way saying. . . . I QUITE AGREE . . . . WELL SAID. . . and then carry on drawing. But not being able to do this means the little devil sat on my shoulder whispers stuff like . . . GO ON SING SOME RED INDIAN SONGS. . . . I am rather good at Red Indian; I think I may have been one in a previous life which would also explain why I like pointy sticks and one of my favourite saying to say (not Write) is . . . WHITE MAN SPEAK WITH FORKED TONGUE . . .  No I really love that saying because it is so often true.

Once it was all over I managed to assist in slightly breaking part of the display, I was not the main person involved I merely pointed out that if they took it apart in a certain way in might not work, and I was right it didn’t.

I think the next important meeting is in December so I will make sure I go with paper next time rather than assume it will be supplied.

OOOOo I found a dead moth tonight on the patio, I hope his mates don’t think it was my fault that might be a problem. It is getting dark very early these days, I think summer might have vanished for the year with plans to stay in warmer parts of the world for a while. . . DAMN