Men with Guns, Paddington Bear, and the Most Powerful Hand Torch in the World.

After chilling and watching Paddington Bear the movie last night, which friends had lent us to watch, I was rather annoyingly forced into action by men with guns.  This is what happens in the country all the time and by that I don’t mean folk are watching Paddington Bear all the time. It was not quite what I was expecting and even now I am not entirely sure if I thought it was a good film or not. Yes there were some witty lines, but there does seem to be a trend at present that films need slightly improbable action and stuff or they are not good. OK a bear turning up in not that probable. but that is not what I mean, I refer to folk leaping about fighting and showing more than a hint distinctly aggressive behaviour. I suspect the new Mad Max film will still lack any genuine plot and intellectual stimulation. And for a post apocalyptic world with dwindling resources and no one doing anything productive they do seem to waste a lot of energy on fighting . . . You would think they might learn from the fact it is a post apocalyptic world.

Anyway back to the point having watched the film I became aware that men with guns were about in the dark outside by the noise of a high velocity rifle being fired very close to the house. They are noisy things and have a very different sound to that of the farmers favourite, the 12 bore.  When I went out to investigate it was plainly clear that there were men out lamping along the track by the woods. They were using large spot lamps on top of a 4X4 to light up the woods so they could shoot at things. It does annoy me, but this is the country, folk do stuff like this a lot. Anyway I went and grabbed a large powerful torch and found a strategic point to turn my own spot lamp back on them. I think it confused them a bit; folk out lamping don’t normally get the lamp turned back on themselves. Luckily they did not shot me . . . . PHEW and headed off round the other side of the woods, I did not pursue them I was on foot and only had a torch. They were a small group in a 4X4 and had guns, you I suspect would have done a similar thing.

It was just like the Mad Max Film (I refer to the old one, I will not bother with the new one myself) only with Paddington Bear, and I had to defend myself with a the most Powerful Hand Torch in the world in a clearing near the Eastwood.       

The possible origin of Christmas. . . sort of.

As we enter the eve of Christmas Eve  it is a time of Christmas carols and interesting stories about things that people do not know about , stories of great strangeness from all over the world, so as we start to panic that we have not wrapped any presents yet.  I will retell (I know Christmas is also a time of repeats on TV and Blogs) of a certain tribe deep in the South American forest and how their ancestral song ended up as a Christmas carol.

It appears the tribe were cannibals, I know not nice, but these things happened back in the old days, and it is said by those who know that the tribe would attack other tribes and run off with the juicy ones and eat them in a big festival with roast chestnuts and hang their (the chaps becoming dinner) clothes above the open fire as they slowly roasted them on a large spit (OK YUCK). 

As time passed European Missionaries arrived and said HANG ON THIS IS NOT NICE YOU CAN'T DO THAT so they (the tribe) tried eating the missionaries, but they tasted really very YUCK to the tribe. It was the high wheat diet of the Europeans, all that bread and hard ships biscuits, and it turned out the tribe was allergic to wheat, what with there being none in the jungle.

Then on this very night (OK tomorrow night but its close) hundreds of years ago three kings from the east arrived who had followed a star, and they came bearing gifts having travelled over field and fountain, moor and mountain, following yonder star until they arrived in the deep forest. The tribe who now realized eating Europeans was a bad move said HELLO WHO ARE YOU THEN and the three Kings said WE'RE THREE KINGS OF ORIENT ARE but due to a terrible error in translation it was translated into WHEAT FREE KINGS OF ORIENT ARE, and so on Christmas day all those hundreds of years ago the tribe had a delicious meal of three kings. Their (The Three Kings) ornate stockings, (Kings wear ornate stockings when travelling) . . .  hanging in the branches above the fire, filled with the gifts that they brought with them.  

The tribe wrote a song in celebration and as the kings were from the orient the song became a victim of Chinese Whispers and the rest as we tend to say is History.

Yes its a shock but Christmas is an old South American cannibal festival that has sort of gone wrong over time, which must be true or why on earth would we be expected to eat brussel sprouts. 

The Surprise Birthday Party, Leaping About, Fruit, Zombies and a Hot Air Balloon.

It has been a lovely day today after what was a nice day yesterday and as it happens it is predicted to be a nice day tomorrow, so we are back with a feeling of summer again after the arrival of autumn. I know this is not very exciting is it, but as I have said many many times stuff like this happens or does not happen. One thing I have noticed mind you is there are lots of berries and fruit on the trees and there is some sort of saying about . . . Much Fruit Means Many Zombies Ahead. . . .  No sorry not that one, I mean the one about Much Fruit Means a Hard Winter.  Interestingly the saying about  . . . Much Fruit Means Many Zombies Ahead. . . .  Also means it will be a hard winter for your head as the little (OK Large) critters try and eat your brains, ironically they don't like fruit.

OK back to events of the here and how and our theme this year in volume five of my popular diary (all publicity is good publicity so they say) being the Unknown meant that we went to a surprise sixtieth birthday party for Miss L which means that it was entirely unknown to her until she was faced with family and a few good friends all singing. . . Meatloaf’s Bat out of Hell. . . . .  AH no that was later on I think we all sang happy birthday and then drank and ate and danced about having a good time.  Well as you know I don't drink alcohol so was drinking orange juice, as it happens I like orange juice although it is not good for your liver. . . . You just can't win with these things at present.

I also have a bit of an issue leaping about dancing . . . sort of dancing  . . . . .Ok just leaping about but in time with the music . . . Ok not in time with music . . . .  Although I can do Air Guitar better than Mr N he is rubbish, but then I can play a guitar (sort of) which helps. Right back to the point I have dodgy feet, meaning staying upright can get tricky and to make matters worse I am not as fit as I was in the past and leaping about leads to rapid exhaustion and a less agile panting Zombie sort of dancing. Which in turn leads to folk offering you bowls of fruit because of the old saying . . . . .  Much Fruit Means Many Zombies . . . . 

Anyway it was a grand party and as I am a unsociable grumpy bloke I was rather pleased that there were a modest number of folk rather than hundreds which would have scared me into hiding in a cupboard. It is not easy to leap about in cupboards.

OOOOOoooooooooo I have just returned from being outside watching a hot air balloon attempting to avoid landing in the woods. Not a good move as the new battery pheasants have just been released and they have not worked out yet that eating hot air balloonists is not a good move. Luckily they cleared the trees and are on their way to the Castle of the Bishop. (That’s the balloon not the pheasants although in the long run it would be in their best interest).   

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Sorry I'm late for the A to Z. . .(A is for Aliens)

Well I am back writing my diary after my blogging adventure of writing nonsense poetry about Aardvarks, which has been described as similar that that of Vogon Poetry, well that is not very nice is it.  Although interestingly enough the mention of the Vogons brings us to some real life events of which you do not know, you see late in the evening well after midnight there have been lights in the woods.  No not little twinkly lights like fairy lights or torches but big lights sort of light up half a forest sort of lights. We have been speculating what these lights might be, Mr Jones of course says it is alien spacecraft maybe even the mothership (you never get father ships). Now folk have laughed at this and say he is a nutter,  but he has a good point because it is clearly not Zombies because one thing I do know about Zombies is the are not keen on bright lights certainly not ones that will fry half a million moths at a time, because Zombies are light sensitive.  Folk have suggested other hypnosis’s as to why; but to tell the truth they are exceedingly boring and Steven Spielberg is hardly likely to make a boring film (AH hang on he was conned by those sneaky horses).  No he needs a high action block buster about an eccentric in cyberspace to get him back on track and to boost the flagging street cred . . . .  its not his fault, we all get old and lose our way.

AH YES lose our way that reminds me, only a short while ago two small children (OK they were teenagers . . . but not COOL ones) walked up our drive way and asked if I knew where they were as they were lost.  As it happened I did know where I was because I was at home; it appears they were heading to a camp site, but were not sure which one or what is was called. Having given the situation much thought I sent them on there way to what is probably  the right place as they knew they had to cross a mine field (sorry I mean field) and past the old mine where the dragons live (OK they are small invisible dragons. . . honest). Anyway that is about it for tonight. If I remember what else has happened I will tell you (and me) about it before I forget again.

What’s that Skippy some small teenage walkers have fallen down the mine shaft and been eaten by aliens . . . . . HAH HAHAHH AH Haha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha h a hah ah ah aha ha ha hahha haha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ha . . . . . . . . . . I'm sure that Skippy pushes folk into mine shafts…. I cant blame him. 

Aliens, Computers and Loud Bangs and the Ghost Writer

Hello all sorry for the slight break in posts but I did say I was planning to slow up after reaching the 1000^th blog post (one of the outlets of my diary). There are reasons for this however involving both myself and the Ghost Writer.

In my case it all started on Wednesday night not long after I had written my diary entry. You see I had popped outside to put some cat food out on the front patio for the unknown beast that turns up, I really don’t know what it is but it well freaks the cats out and also seems to eat cat food, only it is a cunning beast and I am yet to catch a glimpse of the thing. Time will tell, I will eventually find out what this strange critter is with its pointy large claws and mad howls out in the woods. Anyway while I was out I looked up into the sky and thought what a clear sky it is tonight and it really was one of the clearest in a long time. We are lucky here because it is dark and we get to see the stars and on really clear nights the line across the sky formed by the Milky Way. So there I was looking up into the sky thinking WELL COOL when I noticed something flickering above the woods, then it suddenly moved, well that was a shock and at first I thought I was wrong but then it suddenly moved a bit more. It then moved up and down in quick jerky movements and occasionally from side to side, while it seemed to have flickering lights that may have been rotating. Luckily Mrs Ghost Writer was visiting and so I asked her to come and witness the UFO I had seen as no one was ever going to believe any of us lot. So she came out all sort of sceptical and looked at the flickering light which was still again, but luckily it then starting moving in quick short jerky movements again.. . . . . . . So just for once I have a real witness to a UFO; OK only the second one I have ever seen myself and as for the first one I don’t think I should tell you about that one because well you will not believe me.

As a result of this however I have been on a long alien hunt with Mr Jones who is very annoyed I got to see the UFO and he did not; and says that he's out most nights chasing aliens and the one night he stays in they turn up to see him. As he says No wonder folk don’t get decent pictures or evidence aliens are sneaky. Anyway we have been off in the woods and busy, but saw nothing except the Lemmings of Petrograd and the dodo’s who are still making catapults; you see what happens when the dog goes off to visit the Pope.

Now I did say reasons and the other is that the Ghost Writer, a key part of my diaries production as a real entity in the real world (well cyberspace) has been rather involved with other stuff. Firstly he was trying to do things for his work but at home, apparently it is what IT folk can do at times, but he had password problems, software problems and other problems that meant he was rather preoccupied. Then as a final straw the power supply on his old PC (he is like me he likes old PC’s)  blew up, he says it was as if it had been hit by a laser from an alien spacecraft, one big flash and it was a goner.  He is however rather resourceful and has got his old PC working again, although it now has the wrong power supply in it, and the result is the main power lead comes in the side of the PC so he needs to cut a hole in the side panel, and the whole thing is at present held together with string, bits of tape and wood screws. This is not what IT guru’s are meant to do they are meant to have techy looking high spec computers, not a scrap yard device that makes hissing noises.

OK finally . . . . . . . . . .

Today we have been helping Mrs E formally Miss I in her charity shop because we are jolly decent chaps and the like, and do our bit. . . . . . . . . sort of.

OK that’s it I’m off now although I am sorry, but I have used an old picture again because time has been full of things happening so drawing has taken a back seat so to speak  . . . . . . Another silly saying if you ask me as I am generally in the back seat and would therefore be able to draw. Only I was not this time, but I might have been, although I was not. . . . .  

The Fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence and a quite look back at the past

It continues to rain here rather a lot and the ground is well and truly saturated, the fabled minor stream of inconsequence that runs behind our house and off into the wood must be at least a good 12 to 18 inches deep and almost three feet wide. This means that it still only counts as a minor stream of inconsequence which bearing in mind all the rain and flooding in Britain is rather good when you live in a bungalow.

I really should write loads more but am going to do a sneaky and tell you what I wrote way back on Friday, 28 October 2011 . . . (why I hear you type, well I’m lazy and its wet and dark and the middle of winter).

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

The new house is right at the far end of the wood, right at the end of a thin ribbon of wood that follows the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence, the source of which is right next to our new house. So me and the dog thought it was time to take a little trip to explore. There were two reasons for this. The first was that it has been a very quiet day; the second reason is I really can’t believe you wish to hear about boxes again.

The third reason is it has been rather nice and sunny today an excellent time to explore woods (I sound like Monty Python now). So three reasons why I was in the woods, although the forth one would be that the sequel to the blockbuster movie of the book; (book one) based on this, book two, so far is full of boxes, and that is not a good plot. So four reasons why no one expects the Spanish Inquisition….. Mum has said you know what again, sorry mum however I have thought of a fifth reason……. No only kidding.

 In the woods the trees are all loosing there leaves and many animals are hibernating such as Hedgehogs, Bears, Beavers, The Lemmings of Petrograd, The Dark Creature of the Undergrowth and Uncle Frank. Uncle Frank always gets hibernating and flying south for the winter mixed up, which is an easy thing to do according to mum and dad, but I think they are being nice. But it is cheaper for Uncle Frank to hibernate in the wood than spend all winter partying in Ibiza

We had a long wander through the woods, the dog destroying yet another catapult made by the Dodo’s. He says it will be the last of the year as they have turned their attention to building a Jacuzzi (otherwise known as a hot tub) to keep them cosy over the winter months.  This is the result of them getting to read a Woman’s Own magazine left in the wood by a camper. Yes you see the consequences of leaving your rubbish in the countryside. The repercussions of these acts are not always easy to predict, so please ensure you always clear all your rubbish and dispose of it correctly. Thank you.

Dam it distracted again; we made it to the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence and as was discussed last time (Yes you do need to pay attention) we found evidence of the Madman of the Woods, we even thought we heard the distant call of the wild; HAR HAR HARDY HA HAR a sound with a familiar ring to it. The dog even found prints of a strange animal in the muddy banks of the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence a strange creature with six legs …………. …………. Mmmmmmmmmm.

Anyway it got dark and we had to return home as we were all visiting a particularly famous old lady of Monty who is ninety nine today; and it is not the done thing not to visit. So we did. I did say she was not to run about in the night singing in the street and climbing lamp posts. Mum said IDIOT which I thought was a bit harsh after all she is 99 ……….. AH apparently she was referring to me. 

I have a friend, called Mr Jones.

Who is famous for his, scary groans.

And likes to wear, a pointy hat.

While dancing with, the vampire bat.

And in the middle of the night.

He will knock on doors, to give you a fright.

But at Halloween, he is in the wood

To shout TRICK OR TREAT at …………  Robin Hood.

HA HAH HAHAHH hahah hah hahhah hahhahhah hahahah hha ha ha hah hah hahah.

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

OK back to 2014 yes a lot of time has passed; the dog is still with the Pope I think, teaching him stuff about the Romans and Greeks and the little old lady died having reached 101. And I gave up spelling DAMN like DAM because folk thought I was silly and they did not see the ironic dark humour of a large wall holding back all that water. Since spelling DAMN correctly all that water is now all outside and I think that says everything. . . . . 

AH I may have to use an old picture tonight also . . . . . .DAM . . . . . HAH AH HAH AH HAH AH HA HAH HA HAHHAH haha ha ha hah ha ha ha ha.  

Gosh I have written a lot of rubbish in the last few years……

The Monty Cardboard Robot Club and organizing Britain's First Commercial Rocket Flights to the Moon

Here at the Monty Cardboard Robot Club we take our Rocket building seriously, not like that Harry Potter chap, you don’t see him making rockets. There is much talk of commercial flights into space and space tourism and so we plan to have a slice of the action with our patent Steam Powered Cardboard Rocket. One of the first differences you will notice with our rocket is that you can open the window in order to be able to wave at folk during takeoff.  However it will also have a small warning sign warning passengers on our return trip to the moon that it is ill advised to open the window once in space, there will be a disclaimer about this on the ticket as we are not stupid.

Some may question making this rocket in cardboard, but it is light and robust meaning we can save fuel for the flight or squeeze a few more into economy (they don’t get a window to look out of).

However one small issue is dad has made me move wood about all day today from one place to another, which he says he needs to test the steam engine, he has suggested a wood fired steam engine so that once on the moon passengers can replenish the fuel supply from the virgin forests of the moon, which are as yet untouched by man (a chain saw will be available). I am a little concerned that if the trips became popular we might end up destroying the moons forest for ever, a very distinct possibility if we make our fortune, but sometimes in order to make an honest living we must destroy the odd forest.

Mum says we are IDIOTS and that there are no forests on the moon  . . . . . . WHAT surely NASA could not have chopped down all the trees already. You would think that they would have taken more care and made efficient spacecraft; You see what happens when you make rockets with metal they use loads of fuel…..

Mum has said IDIOTS again? 

The Woods and the Wood Witch and the search for the mythical Rankenzomp Beast

The more practical side of today was confined to poking about in holes in the ground with pointy sticks again, I know I have done this loads lately, but I am good at it; and painting dark things white. Although the painting dark things white was harder that it might at first appear because the white paint tuned a sort of mud grey colour. I guess that is what happens when you try and paint mud white….  However this is hardly that exciting and will not help sell my manuscript to the nice Steven Spielberg, I do not wish to give him the opportunity of saying it would be like watching paint dry while he tries to hide again in exclusive restaurants, who refuse to let me in for being a scruff and having no tie…  Don’t you hate it when the doorman says “No Tie Sir so you are Knot getting in HAH HAHAHH AH HAhah hah hh h hh ah hhaha …….tie, knot HAH HAHHAHAH HA h hahh ah ha…….

Anyway in order to liven up the events of the day I went in search of mythical beasts in the woods where I saw Mr Jones stalking an Alien and the Lemming of Petrograd who were hiding in a pantomime alien costume. They told me that Mr Jones needed cheering up and so they were planning to do a re-enactment of the movie Alien even though they had never seen it, as they said, Lemmings are not allowed in to the cinema. They were dead annoyed because the usherette said they were rodents and they have not been insulted like that since the revolution and their great strike of 1921.

Hang on, this is all a distraction because just as I was wandering home one of those Wood Witches turned up saying they were going to turn me into a frog, or a pig, or a ferret, or an alien with three heads and eighteen feet and three ears, or a lamp post. Still we all know that this is what Wood Witches say to everyone, after all their Bark is worse than their Bite . . . . . . . AH HAHHAH HAH HA HAH HAH ah hah ah ah ha hahhha ha ha ha ah ha ha.

OK I’m off now, I am going to sit on a Nymphaeaceae, or as it is more commonly known lily pad  and eat flies for a while ……… HAH HAHAHh ahah hahah hahh ahah ha ha ha    

Pizza Slice, The Dark Creature of the Undergrowth, Aliens and Elsewhere

I have not achieved a great deal today, it has been that sort of day I looked at a little job involving some tongue and groove panelling but did not have the things I needed, so sort of waved the various bits about shook my head a lot pointed and said OOOOO sorry madam it needs a new thermitechnic screw adjuster like all good plumbers and then said I would be back two weeks next Thursday. However mum said I was not a plumber I was an IDIOT and sent me out to do things elsewhere, but I knew where here was and I knew where there was but I could not find elsewhere. Despite asking everyone I ran into (I say ran into I was walking and did not make any physical contact) such as the Banshees and the Lemmings of Petrograd, who were playing leap frog ( Lemmings, leap frog . . . . .HAH HAHAHHAHAHH HAH ha hah ah hah ah ahahhah ha ha ha) a few Zombies, a few Cows, a Raven, The Dark Creature of the Undergrowth, Mr Jones, Esmeralda and Freddie who have formed a new group called ‘Watching Alien Invasion Tactics’ or WAIT for short. Apparently Mr Jones often chases aliens through the woods shouting WAIT  . . . . . . take me to your leader.

Hang on what was I saying  . . . . . . AH YES elsewhere; when I asked everyone I was looking for elsewhere they would generally scratch their heads ask if I meant here and when I said no they would suggest over there but I was not looking for there I was looking for elsewhere. I spent a lot of time doing that until I worked out I had been here there and everywhere, although not elsewhere. You can see how a chaps day can vanish like sand through the fingers of a little old ladies hand when perusing such a task, strangely it is the sort of task us chaps will do for hours and women tend not too even for five minutes, although I don’t know why?

In other news I noticed on the news that a man who I believe was a captain of Star Trek although not Captain Kirk (the real captain) was going on about never eating a pizza slice before even though he is now seventy, although he has eaten pizza. Now call me an IDIOT but me and the Ghost Writer who is well old, are well confused what is a pizza slice if it is not a pizza, If either of use go out a restaurant and order a pizza we want the whole thing not a bit of it.  As I say the poor old Ghost Writer (note the word OLD) and I don’t understand what they were talking about.

Oooo I was a bit rushed for a picture tonight so I photographed my dinner (I know it is a bit healthy looking) and it is not pizza. 

A Famous Russian Spy called Miss Fionaski and the intrepid Siberian forests of Siberia

As you know over the last few days I have complained that it has been very very cold, so in a sort of themed weather based continuation of my diary, I can tell you all in a very loud voice, well I would if I was able to type in a loud voice, that today was in fact very very very cold, no it really was it was cold. It was the sort of cold where you might bump into say a Famous Russian Spy called Miss Fionaski who might be out practising her abilities at moving through the intrepid Siberian forests of Siberia navigating using only the stars. So as Miss Fionaski was passing us as she navigated the wild woods she called in to say hello, discuss the new shortwave radio code cipher with mum . . . . . .XAQ145F3NNp  . . . . . Which I am not allowed to tell you about or it will ruin months of hard work . . . . . . . . .AH DAMN sorry about that, apparently mum says that Mr President Putin has just sent a message saying I AM AN  IDIOT. Hay a message from President Putin that’s cool.

Miss Fionaski  The Famous Russian Spy

While Miss Fionaski was here I showed her the Christmas tree, she likes Christmas and she was showing me her cunning spy electronics that allowed her to see all the stars in the sky even during the day and her translator which automatically translates into any language. So I tried to get it to translate My seagull called yod has eaten all your cheese slices but it said   Радио является большим для членов КГБ и тайных агентов, which turned out to be the wrong response in Russian. Then Miss Fionaski vanished off into the cold to meet people and take pictures of secret things.

Not Long after that Miss Issy turned up and said it was jolly damn cold, so cold that she would not be surprised to meet a famous Russian spy on a training mission in the woods as they looked just like the  intrepid Siberian forests of Siberia; (that’s the woods not the Famous Russian Spy).

So that’s it I am running away to a warmer place leaving none but the hardiest of beasts fighting through the cold hard frost of winter. I did see a shadowy figure with a big red cloak which had white fur lined edges and a hood and they were wearing big black boots and carrying a large suspicious sack and may have had a false beard;  so I shouted out to them in a friendly gesture Радио является большим для членов КГБ и тайных агентов but they ran off hiding their face, back into the woods. Muttering something about President Putin and the letter he sent to Lapland. 

The funeral, the spy and the alien

Today’s funeral was in many respects a much happier affair, OK yes we are talking funerals but the one today was for someone much older than yesterdays. And they wanted their funeral today to be happy, which it was, It was also held in the little chapel rather than the more grand main church, I think they are a bit friendlier in the chapel than the grand church. There was also loads of food afterwards for everyone, and I mean loads, I did try and eat as much as possible and was doing rather well at one point but then someone refilled the big plate on the table I was sat at with food again, but I was well stuffed by then and was only able to nibble chocolate cake.

Sadly I missed Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian spy who was near the back of the chapel, but then as a master of disguise it is easy for a famous Russian spy to blend seamlessly into the background of a crowd of people. I am not sure if Miss Fionaski was on a secret mission or not, but she was unable to turn up to eat loads of food in the town hall. I think she must have gone home to eat black caviar and drink Russo-Baltique Vodka as you do when you are a Russian spy.

I was also volunteered at home to sweep up all the leaves and the like that had blown out of the trees yesterday and filled our drive at home as I was not at school, what with going to the funeral. So I had a very exciting time this morning sweeping piles of very wet leaves, at least when they are wet they do not blow about all over the place although I prefer not to have a dog and two cats shouting you missed a bit. After yesterdays terrible weather it has been rather sunny today which is classic British weather; however we were lucky yesterday as there have been loads of floods and chaos in many of parts of the UK. It also appears that there is more rain and gales due tomorrow so some places are expecting more floods tomorrow and Monday, it is turning into a very wet year indeed in Britain.

This weather is not great for aliens and might explain why we have not seem any for a couple of weeks or so, after all squelching through mud in wellingtons is no fun for an alien or Mr Jones who has had to start wearing clothes in the woods at night while he waits in his effort to communicate with the aliens. As he says a man wearing no clothes and just a pair of wellington boots hiding in the woods at night in the cold of winter tends to make people think you are a bit odd. I think we can all agree with him about that.

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Young Horror Patter and the magic slugs (the continuing tale of the gingerbread house) and Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Once upon a time a long long long…… very long time ago lived a young wizard called Horror Patter, he had acquired this name as a result of his early years in wizard school where his attempts in magic would nearly always end in the sound of his feet as they pitter-pattered at speed down the long stone corridors to tell one of the masters things had gone slightly wrong and there was a thirty five foot slug eating Henry Poobag the 4^th in the Halls of Spells.  Much of the problem as it became clear much later on, was the fact he was a bit dyslexic, so Humpillioratty Floximaxiffion to poor old Horror Patter sounded look just like Hippiffiliously Jazzilliopussion so it was no wonder he sort of turned stuff into the wrong thing

Despite all his errors he had a few friends mainly Reg Polecat and Henrietta Ginger also known as Bossy Boots.  Anyway it appeared that Horror Patter was destined for big things because the grand wizard and school headmaster Professor Doubledoor was very friendly with Mr and Mrs Patter and rumour has it a couple of plain brown envelopes had passed hands with the odd wink and a Allicazapiously hiddeniousapus nudgellious sayious kno Moreioth. Then one day the three friends ventured into the dark wood on a well wizard trip without telling Professor Doubledoor by using the secret passage that smart arse Henrietta Bossy Boots found.

END OF PART ONE 

     

PART TWO

The reason for their trip was to visit a house deep in the woods that Henrietta Ginger’s father had made with his business partner Mr Bread many many many years ago, using revolutionary new building materials and ideas that sadly did not catch on. Anyway they battled through the wild woods fighting goblins and rabbits until they came to a clearing in the wood where they found  a small group of people that Henrietta knew, because she knows everything (NA NAN NAAA Naaaaa).  They were Professor Frankenstein who had been sacked by the school for his attempts to make students in a student loan scam, Mrs Frankenstein his wife, a large android robot that looked just like that Arnold Schwarzenegger and a small golden robot with wires hanging out of it called Rapunzel. The small group were eating crumbs off the floor, and the large android robot was trying to shoo away ravens who were also trying to eat the crumbs.

What happened to your lovely house that my father Mr Ginger and his business partner Mr Bread Made? it is destroyed said Henrietta, It is just one of those things said Professor Frankenstein as he desperately attempted to fly a kite up into a passing thunderstorm with the line tied to the head of a scarecrow.  

We will put it all right for you said Reg Polecat, Yes said Horror Patter and with that Young Horror Pattor lifted his wand.

NO shouted Henrietta …….. No shouted Reg ………… No shouted a Zombie scurrying about in the wood, but it was too late.

Flinkystorodiousady Pilliffastpee blinkius shouted Horror his wand making cracking noises and smoke and flames flashing across the sky ………………….AH said Henrietta …………..AH said Reg …………. AH said young Horror Patter and AH said a Zombie in the wood. Because there before them were four very large slugs sat on the remains of the gingerbread house eating ginger bread quite happily.

Time to  go home said Henrietta Best not to tell Professor Doubledoor I think

THE END

The English teacher said IDIOT again now after making me rewrite my story…

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The Werewolf Waving Whale parts in Wales

The Ghost Writer spent the day weaving his way to Ystradgynlais to repair computers and then weaved his way home. There are few straight roads in Wales, a wise if slightly wicked way to make the English wander into little Welsh villages to purchase stuff like wooden Love spoons and warthogs and waterproof coats and wellingtons as Wales is world famous for its wet Weather. 

The Ghost Writer is here now eating and whinging after driving at the wheel of his vehicle for what he says felt like a well long time. In fact it is a wonder he made it, what with the whispers of wildcat strikes by tanker drivers and Werewolf’s in busses waving Whale parts at him.    

From the Movie

The Last Strangle in Paris 

AHHAH HAha hah hah hhah hah haha ha 

 Did you all know that K, Q, V, X and Z do not exist in Welsh so really I should not be doing them but I have. As for today well it started badly the old wagon, (I refer to the school bus) was driven by a werewolf with Wensleydale cheese and WORCESTER Sauce sandwiches. His driving was a bit whacky but he happily whistled into the Wind and wound up the other drivers by waving whale parts at them and winking.

It appears the Universal Bus Company drivers have gone on Strike again and warfare now exists between management and the workers even the tanker drivers have walked out in support. So the Buss Company have got round the problem by employing a new workforce of werewolf’s (who are prepared to do a bit of moonlighting)  

     

What makes it worse for the workers is werewolf’s will work for woefully low wages and one night off once a month when they go and wild in the woods and wrestle with witches and warlocks and hunt for Whale parts in Woolworths or W H Smiths.

Look, I’m distracted now as I was saying the werewolf was WINDING his way to school when he was stung by a wasp.  So after weaving all over the road writing off a wheelbarrow and a wireless set we ended up going the wrong way and getting lost in the woods. Remember what bears do in the woods, well so do werewolf’s……… YUCK, that made the women on the bus scream and cry (those WESSEX Girls).  Mums just said Sexist IDIOT. 

                                                                                          

Damn it this is getting very wordy…not a wise thing.  I have told the Werewolf who was driving the bus if he keeps driving like that by tomorrow he will be an EX-Werewolf

I don’t know about the rest of you in the A to Z jolly but I have decided I am doing three more letters then that’s it no more. I still have this sculpture to make for the Cultural Olympiad……….YICKS  

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My Entire A to M so Far (Abridged).... so Time for a Party

Yesterday I managed to Mention M as you might have guessed..... I am Magnificent at this MAD game as many bloggers might have discovered, I am also MOSTLY Modest but not when mentioning M. Anyway I am meandering away from the main thread of my mission, My Manuscript (Diary).

As everyone knows who reads my blog (or reads the book or watches the block buster movie)  the MYSTERIOUS MURDEROUS MUMBLING MUMMIFIED MUTANT MONSTERS of MESOPOTAMIA made it to a party last night with their friends The marauding mean megalomaniacal Mankind Mutilating Marionettes of Moldova but The Marionettes of Moldova said there were strings attached. The party you see was at the now infamous illicit ISOBAR and they had all got their invites from a pretty young girl, which gave them, free entry and a free drink.

They thought hang on we have heard of the ISOBAR what is it we are meant to say……AH yes  “I’m an INTERGALACTIC INVADER from IO (one of the moons of Jupiter), and my IGUANA has INSOMNIA”. So they did but she said “In that case you Might get two free drinks” so they went.

Much to their amazement also there were; The LEMMINGS of Petrograd and a Llama, The legendary JURASSIC JIGANTICIUS JOLLISCARYIUS, The KING of the KELPIES, the Ghost of HARRY HOUDINI, The GUILD of GROTESQUES AND GARGOYLES and Godzilla,  the FIERY FIGHTING FISHERMEN of FISHGUARD, The  ELITE of the EUROPEAN ELLIPTICAL EARTH ENGINE Club,  The DEMENTED DEADLY DORMICE of DOOM,  A CARNIVOROUS CAVE CRAB of CAMBODIA, and a AUTOMATED ALUMINIUM AND ANTIMONY ARTICULATED ARMOUR plated ALBINO ARANEOMORPHAE (SPIDER SORT OF THING) ANDROID.

They were all out of their heads (well everyone except the HEADLESS HORSEMAN) on Billberry bush MOONSHINE and some sort of monsterious mixed up Alphabet Cocktail….. Then this MORNING when they woke up it appears they had blown all their cash and a pretty young girl appears to have compromising photos of MOST of them playing Leap frog in the lavatory.

 OK bloggers in all that rushing to write that I cant remember if I used twelve letters or all  thirteen letters, so what you have to ask yourself is are you feeling Lucky SO ……….DO you feel Lucky bloggers.

If anyone thinks I am going to do this again when we get to Z you are MAD …………HA HAH HAH AHHAH HAH HAH HAHAHH Hah hah hahaha hahh a  a ……………HA HAHH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH AH H HA

HA HA HA HAH AH hah hahhaha hah hah ha hahah ha ha

AH MUM said IDIOT

Time off HA .......... I laugh in the face of adversity 

The legendary JURASSIC JIGANTICIUS JOLLISCARYIUS (Part Two) and a Jockey wearing a Jacobean Jacket

Dam it, we really are winging it today. The dog said we just have look at life from its juxtaposition. He suggested driving a juggernaut in the Jet stream on a Jetty in Japan with the Hindu God of Jagannâth tied to the roof with Jute rope. There is no denying this justifies the dogs concept of a juxtaposition on life but it is not entirely practical.

So instead we followed The Fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence through the jungle (Yes Yes the Woods) to the JUNCTION with the Pool of JEJUNE to see the beast; the legendary JURASSIC JIGANTICIUS JOLLISCARYIUS and hunt for Jewels and Jasper.

sorry about the reflection of the camera name on the water but I never said I was good at photography
(I think)

Last time we were there it was hot like a June day but this time (a month later) it was more like January. It was clear that there had been some Jiggery-pokery just recently and the JUVENILE JURASSIC JIGANTICIUS JOLLISCARYIUS has jolly well gone. Then me and the dog saw a Jockey. We assume he was a Jockey because he was wearing jodhpurs and a Jacobean jacket and hat (funny lot are Jockeys). He said that the Japanese has done a runner with it, having enticed it out of the  Pool of JEJUNE with a giant Jumbo sausage and juniper sauce plus a plate of juicy jaffa cakes and Jam.  But a passing jogger said he (The Jockey) was a jingoistic Jumped up Johnny come likely jester who was trying to sell his story to journalists.

So we left them Gesticulating (Dam that’s not J) at each other and jabbing one another with pointy sticks, and went off to hunt jewels on the way home until we met John from school on his way to the chip shop. He was looking rather jaded and down because he said he had been Jilted by Julie, who has run off with Gordon and he was going home to jot down a jolly little song about it all so she would never forget him.

Me and the dog both looked at each other and said JUXTAPOSITION or What?

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And on that note i must return to painting the walls of a bedroom JAZZBERRY (no I really am)

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General Custer and the Pheasants

One advantage of living in a classic 70’s bungalow with huge UPVC double glazed windows is the slightest bit of sun and it is well toasty. So this morning we were eating breakfast with the patio doors open. That is not bad for the end of November although if it is like that now what will it be like in the summer. Luckily for me, I like hot.

One of the Pheasants wondered into the house this morning, they are way to friendly and tame for their own good, because there is a shoot just the other side of the narrow bit of wood. I think these pheasants are cage bred birds so to put it bluntly, they are stupid. I don’t know why some folk who shot pay so much money to shot cage bred pheasants because they will run up and smile at everyone. It is because they assume all humans have loads of yummy grain and the fact someone is pointing a 12 bore at them seems not to deter them.

The one in the house at least did run off rather sharpish when it was perused by the dog with a large meat cleaver while making references to Bernard Mathews and sitting ducks. Talking of sitting ducks, well Sitting Bull at least Heavy Harry the Cat and Sooty the Cat are leaving the pheasants alone. But it is probably because they are seriously outnumbered and the dog has recently told them the story of what happened to General Custer when he was surrounded by the native Red Indians who were also covered in Pheasant feathers, (lets face it everyone has it is for pheasants).

It is not the size of the dog in the fight, it is the size of the fight in the dog. And a cat in a box

The Prime Minister (British) said today it is not the size of the dog in the fight it is the size of the fight in the dog well the dog disagrees with that he said when Mr Johnson’s dog (A Pekingese) had a fight with the large flesh eating dinosaur, the dinosaur ate it. Mum agreed and said IDIOT and I don’t think she was talking about the dog or the dinosaur or even Mr Johnson either this time.

Still as mum says it could be worse and the economy could be in the hands of politicians …………..AH  

  

Well I for one didn’t even know there was any flesh eating dinosaurs about. Only dads Steam Powered Tyrannosaurs Rex that he built for Halloween last year; or was it the year before that. Anyway that is not important right now. What is interesting is that there appears to be a real one that ate someone’s dog. The dog says there is only dads Steam Powered Tyrannosaurs Rex which he built for Halloween last year and during the test trials it sort of…………..………….AH.

The Rooks and Crows were very active in the early evening and with good reason as the weather has gone dead horrible and Yuk and wet, I think this may well be the proper start of winter now, it is also very very very dark …. COOL. 

It also appears that it was mum and dads wedding anniversary today they have been married for something like 127 years now according to dad. Not sure that is actually right as mum has hit him round the head with the Armadillo toaster and said IDIOT. Anyway it is a long time because dad recons he was youngish sort of maybe, and did brave things, and smiled at people, and was nice to them when they got married. SO it must be ages ago then, He says he did remember their anniversary but his plans to build a new flat pack IKEA house as a surprise was scuppered by two things.

The first was they did not supply the Allen key in the flat pack kit and dads old (imperial measure) tools were the wrong size, so dad was muttering about fangled metric stuff being silly. The second problem was a missing wall, that is quite a large problem in a kit house particularly when it is a supporting wall, although the man on the phone said they would send one in the post first class (the missing wall is called Krumblewal, dad is not happy with the name but that’s IKEA for you.

A third problem was that dad in the end thought the design was not very nice and looked like a box; in fact it looked just like the box the parts came in so he threw the wrong one away and Harry the Cat and Sooty the Cat are now squatting in the box and refusing to come out.  Cats can be very territorial once they set up home in a box.