2014 Brazilian World Cup The Final Conspiracy

I did not watch the world cup match between Argentina and the Netherlands last night as I was rather tired, but knew that my trusty Androids would easily defeat those Argentinians, after all, the German Androids had done the very same thing just the day before against Brazil. However I woke up to discover they had lost and on the penalty shootout. I then heard on the BBC News that the first two Androids asked to take penalties had panicked and said NO, unnerving the entire team. They have ruined my plans now and I will not be the ruler of the entire World forcing the very nice Steven Spielberg to make the blockbuster film of the book of the blog diary of me Rob Z Tobor.  I have since received a telegram from the very nice Steven Spielberg that read . . . . . . .  HAH AH AH AHAH AH AH AHHA HAHA HA HAH AH AHAHHAH AH Ha So I will not be making the film after all. Now I suggest you stop annoying me and go away. . HA HAHAH AH HAH AH HA HAH AH hah ah ah ah ah ha hah ahah hah aah ha hah  . . . . . . . . . . . .  Its OK I known he does not mean it and will come round to the idea very soon. 

I have realized though that the final is a fix, the Netherlands were doomed even with my Androids playing. You see the Germans as we all now know have been infiltrated by the Androids of the Knights Templar who are after the Holy Grail (world Cup). And as we all Know, who do they see as their head man, none other than the Pope and where does the present Pope come from, Argentina. Add to this the fact that the previous German Pope resigned to let the Present Argentinian  Pope take over in time for the world cup and we have one seriously big conspiracy theory, after all where is the one place on earth that you could hide the World Cup (Holy Grail). . . . . . . Yes the Vatican. No international police of any sort will get into there.

So it appears that the German team and the Argentinian  teams are in it together, I bet some of the Argentinian players are Androids of the Knights Templar and that would explain why my Dutch Androids were a bit off form.

However just so they know who the boss is I have reconfigured the two Androids who refused to take the first penalty for the Netherlands as a warning not to do such things again.    

OOooooooo and those compromising pictures of the Pope I planned to Blackmail the Argentinean Manager with were fakes planted by the Knights Templar to lull me into a false sense of security. They have turned out to be an Elvis Impersonator called Dave from Wolverhampton. . . .  Well He will have some explaining to do tomorrow to the press.

If Argentina win the World cup all I can say is it’s the hand of God and the whole match is rigged.  

The True Story of Father Christmas and Elves (sorry Elvis).....

Once upon a time there was a large jolly rotund chap with a big white beard and red fur lined jacket who carried a large sack about known to all as Father Christmas (that’s the rotund chap not his sack). He was a generous chap who would rummage about in his sack and give passing small children presents and the like shouting Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas.  He was very popular much like Elvis and like Elvis it was not long before everywhere he went folk you run up to him screaming asking for autographs and asking him to sing the ever popular Be-Bop-A-Lula I don’t like Gravy, a sentiment all folk with large white beards will whole heartedly agree with no doubt. 

As he became more and more famous and popular it got harder and harder for him to go anywhere without folk turning up demanding stuff out of his sack or making him sing that song again or trying to book him for parties or saying he was the father of their love child. When it was plain to all that super gluing beards onto small children was never going to convince anyone.

So as time passed Father Christmas became more reclusive and hid away up north in the snow only venturing out in the middle of winter a time that became known as Christmas time because he was never seen any other time of year. He still went Ho Ho Ho a lot but now sneaked into houses at night as it was the only way he could avoid being asked to sing that song.  Of course by hiding away there was an opportunity for those Elvis impersonators who were not doing to well (put bluntly they were rubbish at Elvis), having fallen on hard times they became dishevelled and unshaven ending up with long white beards allowing them to become Father Christmas impersonators; it was cheaper too all you need is a big red coat and a sack, not a white sequined suit like Elvis and there was no need to be able to play the trombone either.

Over the years the real Father Christmas has got even more reclusive but the Father Christmas Impersonators or Santa impersonators as they are known now for legal reasons are all over the place. And it is easy to see why they all had to give up being Elvis impersonators, the closest I have ever seen one looking a bit like Elvis was when he was bitten by a large Hound Dog one Christmas Eve and screamed Im all Shook up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .HAH HA HAH HAH HA HAH HA HAH HA HAH HAH HHAH HAH AH hah a hha ha ha ha ha ha

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The Art of Sarcasm, Loosing Ones Mojo . . . . . And Wasps

As I said yesterday I have lost my wit and humour, folk have tried to reassure me that I am still witty and write in a way that only I can write (well me and the Ghost Writer) due to a unique skill in being able to string total rubbish together in such a way that as a whole it is total rubbish (the whole greater that the parts so to speak). I know that’s true,, that very nice Steven Spielberg has told me many times that he finds it hard to believe anyone could write such total rubbish. It is words like that that make me realize I am indeed unique and thanks to such encouragement I will persevere with my tale (not tail as I don’t have one of those).

It was a strange morning because I woke up to grey skies and the wind blowing all the blossom off the tree in the front garden, that and the as yet still small young leaves on the trees made it look and feel just like autumn. I told everyone in school it was autumn and that summer is now over, and one or two folk thought this was slightly amusing, this I put down to the possible sarcasm of the remark, so I pursued  this idea further as a way of recovering my mojo (wit). So I explained that summer really was over (enforcing the sarcasm) and that their lives were entirely futile and that in the great scheme of things they are meanly ants, small insignificant ants. I appeared to get a bit of nervous laughter from one or two pupils so thought I would push the point a bit further, so having told most of the girls they were merely girls destined for a life of drudgery, babies and fighting in the aisles of the supermarket, while there partners get drunk in the pub and fight and get locked in a cell for the evening. I thought I would go for the jugular and told the headmaster he was rubbish and that his sense of dress was worse that that of a Japanese Elvis impersonator wearing a giraffe outfit and a straw hat.

It appears sarcasm is trickier that I thought as I spent much of the day tied to a tree covered in honey below a wasps nest with a tub of itching power poured on my head. It is a difficult decision between staying perfectly still and not being stung or having a good scratch and getting attacked by wasps. I don’t think telling the wasps they were rubbish and had a pathetic buzz that was not worthy of grannies door bell with flat batteries fitted helped much,  apparently wasps don’t do sarcasm and have no sense of humour what so ever.

I noticed that on my return home Sooty the Cat was practising sarcasm by lying perfectly still on the bed and not being stung by wasps.

Mum said I am an IDIOT, but agreed about the headmasters dress sense.

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The Pope, God and Elvis

It is a strange world we live in there I was wondering about what to write about when in general things have been normal-ish (excuse the bad typing I have cold hands and cant type at the best of times) and as predicted the world was covered in snow and ice outside but not nice snow and ice, so no snow zombies today.  And as I have complained endlessly about weather I will be good and not mention a word about it today . . . . . . AH DAMN.

So just for a change I thought I would look at the news because one of those little events has happened today that does not happen very often, in fact roughly about once every six hundred years I think; yes Pope Ben has resigned. This is a tricky thing to do when you are as they say the number two after the big man himself God, putting your resignation in writing to God is seriously tricky. It reminds me of that very popular song often played at funerals “Return to Sender” by the King himself, ELVIS . . . . WOW it is not often I get to talk about The Pope, God and Elvis all at the same time…

So Why you are thinking has this happened, as I have already said to my good friend Mr H, God moves in mysterious ways and as we get old so do we, it is well known that the elderly do all sorts of strange things; in fact the point comes where God moving in a mysterious way is less mysterious than the elderly moving about in a mysterious way, not an ideal position to be in if you are a Pope. And the result of all this is the Pope and God end up moving so mysteriously that they never get to meet. So the Pope has probably thought to himself where’s that God gone I'm sure he was here earlier.  

I was also somewhat bemused by the BBC news feed on their web site that said “Live: Pope resigns”  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Surely it is not just me who thinks hang on if he was dead he would not be able to resign.

While I was reading the BBC news web site I also saw the following . . . . .  Beef products 'pose no health risk', well we all know that, what most people wish to know is whether horse products are safe. Actually while on the subject of those dodgy food items I noticed they showed one on the TV yesterday after it was cooked and to tell the truth it looked awful. This you see brings us to a rather important point about the meat in these cheap convenient foods, the meat in them is that reconstituted stuff and may not be meat as such, more eyeballs, ears, bits of skin and various other things turned into a sort of slurry and then made to look like meat as you and I think of it. So some sort of real meat even in the form of a horse may not be a bad thing unless of course you are a horse…

I better go its somehow got late not sure how But I was drumming earlier and jolly good it was too.

Oooooooo yes I was able to take a photo of a tree this morning but not the Pope God or Elvis  . . . . .sorry.

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Floods and a house in harmony with its Environment. . . J K Rowling, Harry Potter and The Casual Vacancy.

Britain is in something of a mixed situation at present because there are many who have had to abandon there homes as great volumes of water cascade down streets and taking interesting little short cuts through houses. It is not nice but luckily for us our classic seventies bungalow was build by a man who knew exactly where to put a bungalow when there has always been an outside risk of zombies (sorry flooding) not too far away. 

So we are lucky and our little house is in harmony with is environment unlike many of the recent speculative building schemes of recent years where houses have been built on flood plains or next to rivers. There is nothing quite like having your own fishing rights in the kitchen. You see mankind is no longer in harmony with nature in the same way as it used to be which brings me back to today and my sort of friend, I say sort of because Esmeralda is like a pet Puff Adder; you don’t get in its tank and play chess with it, or say whose a pretty boy then with it perched on your shoulder. I did warn George it was not a good move and he proved my point very succinctly.

So all the rain meant Esmeralda was going in circles again and so was placed back into the wheelie bin; she was far from happy and was screaming  exterminate exterminate exterminnnnaaaaaaaaaaate much like yesterday.  Trevor has learnt his lesson and did not snigger this time, not after being pummelled half to death by beetroot yesterday afternoon. And the day sort of settled down and was OK, although who ever put L plates on the wheelie bin is in for it once Esmeralda finds out who it was, apparently it was Dave but I promised I would not tell . . . . . . . . . . . AH Sorry Dave.

I was listening to the wireless this morning and that J K Rowling was talking about her new book called ‘The Casual Vacancy’ I assume about a part time B & B, anyway I took note because as we all know J K Rowling is responsible for Harry Potter who I fell out with ages ago because of all that stick waving and shouting Hystoriously Thrumpostious scaring all the banshees and most of the wildlife in the woods. Anyway Harry Potter is not in this book so HAH HAHAHH HAHHAH hahahah hah hah hah hahh ahah ah hahh hah hahha  sorry Harry only kidding . . . . . . . . . . . .HAH HA HA HAH HAH AHHAh hah hahah ahh hahah hhaha ha.

 The book we are told is for adults not children because it is full of naughty words and rude stuff (OK not sure if there is rude stuff). But surely Harry could have told Miss Rowling that most school playgrounds are full of much worse words, I have told the teachers loads of times it is not good to swear but no no they don’t listen, hiding behind the bike sheds so the headmaster cant see them before sneaking back into school to teach English and Maths again all innocent like.

Ooooo Yes, Miss Rowling also said she had not thought of another interest story line for Harry so he probably will not be in any more books, HAH HAHAHH HAH HAHha hah ah hahah ahah hahh ahha ahhhah hah ha  . . . . . . . Poor old Harry

Gosh I have written more than planned, and I missed the exciting bits too but I better go.

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The chipped cat and the orange room

The weather today was like Jekyll & Hyde, one moment the sun would be shining and the birds singing it was warm and all was well with the world then the next it was all hell let loose on the world. The wind would blow and big dark clouds would turn up and throw huge amounts of rain in our face, a bit like the bully at the beach kicking sand in our face (only it was rain).

This made plans very difficult although the first job today was too take Sooty the Cat to the vet it appears he may have been chipped with a faulty chip. That’s technology for you it all looks great until it is stuck inside a cat. Or in dad’s weather machines case until a cat is stuck inside the technology.  So Sooty the Cat (he’s Black by the way) had to be scanned. A bit like  a tub of ice cream in the supermarket; to ensure that he is not a tub of ice cream from the supermarket, but Sooty the Cat (a Black cat), luckily he is, and we all went home happy especially Sooty the Cat who thought if he was a tub of ice cream he would have been eaten. I think he was safe, none of us fancied cat flavoured ice cream much.

So I was back in that orange room yet again today doing things. I suspect some of you are wondering what is the orange room for, why would the Eccentric Child of Cyberspace be spending all his time in an orange room, moving stuff making desks and shelves, and generally turning his diary into a huge tale of screw drivers and wood saws. Well there are reasons, I have taken a little photograph of what is a clue, that’s clue not glue, although I did use a lot of wood glue today, plus some screws and a hammer, several screwdrivers and although I prefer not to admit it, a spirit level. I appear to have lost the knack of knowing what is level or square by doing it by eye, it may be down to the vary focal glasses these days and being as blind as a bat (the flying beasts not the cricket bat, although the flying beasts eat crickets and cricket bats cant see either).

I am at present helping the Ghost Writer do some stuff with computers that he needs to do before he goes to work tomorrow and is taking him much longer than he thought due to a dodgy USB memory stick. So to help I have used the wood glue to stick it in; that should help loads…….. …….. …….. …….. …….. …….AH apparently not…… DAMN. Mum has said IDIOT

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Elvis, Hedgehogs and Cheese Scones

We discovered that we have a pair of hedgehogs under the beach hedge last night. They appear to have made the entrance to their home under the canopy put up for the family barbecue, so we now have the only hedgehogs in Britain who have an entrance surrounded by fairy lights. The main worry with this is the male hedgehog is now convinced he is Elvis and is singing ‘Aint nothing but a hedgehog”….

It has been rather hot today, which can only mean one thing, yes dad is working on his weather machine again although this time the dog is helping him with the mathematics and calculus. The dog says that dad has not built into the system the minor random variable element which represents the butterfly that flaps its wings deep in the South American rain forest. As we all know and I’m sure I have said before a long time ago it is his fault we have all the storms and rain (the butterfly). But you can’t make a weather machine without knowing what the little critter is doing, so that you can create an Anti-flapping butterfly as compensation.

While they are doing this I have been assigned the job of making the log shed. I am not entirely convinced that it is as much fun as tinkering with a weather machine but I am told that it is very important and as a bribery mum has made of huge pile of cheese scones with loads of  km pepper in ………….YUM.

OK not much else to report today………

Oooo yes dentist tomorrow so YUCK, as it happens I am aware that Ian the Musical Hat Maker has been to see the dentist so next week if all does to plan I will be able to exchange dentist stories….. The dentist always makes me think of the film Marathon Man with that bloke Hufting Dustman or what ever his man is… I don’t like the dentist. 

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