tongue and groove wood panelling and a tiny dinosaur's head

Today due to the cold and damp (although no rain) I have continued the fitting of the tongue and groove wood panelling to the kitchen, there is very little left to go now although the very last bit is going to get held up waiting for some wiring to be done. Unlike in the old days when the general public could go around wiring anything to anything; these days you must be officially sanctioned in order to wire things up. The only real exception to this appears to be attempting to create a monster out of human parts using lightning, I think it is because fundamentally in that case you are dealing with an off grid system, although the health and safety executive have told dad off in the past for making monsters. Mind you since dad’s last monster did eat the health and safety man which at first you would think is bad it appears the result is our house is now black listed and health and safety officers say they refuse to do home visits on grounds of heath and safety, so that is good….

As you all know cyberspace can be a very strange world but from time to time so can the very real world of reality, and today I learnt of a strange little tale from the real world of reality that has all the hallmarks of life in cyberspace.

It appears that just before Christmas not very far away there was a small child who had a pet dinosaur, not a huge real one because that does not happen in the real world, no this is a smallish stuffed toy (bringing us back to reality).  The small child who I will not name because I don’t who he is, wanted a woolly hat for Christmas for his stuffed dinosaur.

It is worth remembering that a dinosaur has a small head in relationship to the size of its body so the small child’s small stuffed dinosaur had a small head, a regular sized woolly hat would fit a dinosaur that was huge and that would crush a small child. So finding a small woolly hat for the child’s dinosaur was a bit of a headache. It is at this point things start to get a bit strange, you see there are people out there that knit woolly hats for a particular type of yoghurt pot . . . . . . NO, this is entirely true it is some sort of charity thing raising money for abandoned yoghurt or something of the like. Unfortunately these turned out to be too big as we are talking  very small dinosaur so tiny head. Then someone who I know quite well knew of someone else who knits little hats for Ferrero Rocher chocolates that look like little knitted Christmas puddings . . . . . .WHAT? . . . . . . . . . Its entirely true if you think we are off on some strange story again then Google Ferrero Rocher knitted woolly hats and you will see that there is a knitting pattern available. And it turns out that this tiny hat made for a chocolate was just the right size for the dinosaur’s head (that’s a very small head) and the small child was very happy. And people think I live in a strange world but I can assure you none of us knit hats for either yoghurt or chocolates.

OK that’s enough for today I am waiting for sun and blues skies and refuse to have my daily diary stretched into war and peace until I have warmed up . .. . . . . . . .. 
   

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The imminent return of the curse of Halloween and the edges of Op Art

I have noticed in the wonderful world of cyberspace there is a definite increase in Halloween related things and as someone who has many dealing with banshees and zombies vampires and the like you would think I was a great fan of Halloween, but it is not entirely true.  You see I am deep down a bit of a kill joy, nothing wrong with that I hear you say, after all she is a mutant alien being who drinks the blood a small cute things and scares small children so killing Joy is OK.  But we need to look at Halloween a bit closer; in the UK it is a one night event a sort of short sharp shock approach as attempted by the police a few years ago and then it is all over; in the USA is a far grander event and appears to last much longer and can be far more elaborate. There is however a core element that is intertwined into the fabric of both nations, and that is annoying children turning up at your door saying trick or treat and expecting money, sweets and toffee apples. NO not cute. . . . . . It is very annoying, me and the dog demand a trick and so far no one has produced a good one over the years.

Last year our only trick or treaters were the Spanish Inquisition OK well they looked like the Spanish Inquisition, they did not seem to know who the Spanish Inquisition were, and they did not appreciate getting a decomposing armadillo as a treat in fact they ran away screaming although that might have been the bucket of eyes that did that. The dog had even filled it with sugar mice and jellied babies, that’s the decomposing Armadillo not the bucket of eyes that would be silly. But the key fact again was they were rubbish at tricks (not the armadillo or eyes I refer to the Spanish Inquisition). So this year on Halloween me and the dog are planning to eat all the trick or treat arrivals in a huge spicy pie YUM, it is what the Zombies will want us to do, and after all it is their special night we need to be respectful.

OK what happened today I was painting a line OK an edge but an edge sort of forms a line, I have painted edges before in fact I am rather good at it and would have made a great op artist back in the day when op art was rather fashionable. These days op art is not fashionable so the skill of painting an edge is of limited use I tend to find I am asked to paint things like the top of walls where it meets the ceiling and similar things, you see . . . .  so much talent used for such a task as the edge of walls.

I also had to fix a door to make sure it locks correctly as the person is concerned they might have trouble with zombies next week trying to get their toffee apples and sweets and small children with white sheets on their heads that look just like small children with white sheets on their heads going wooooooo wooooooo I want my mummy will attempt to sneak in and run away with humbugs (sorry I mean humming bugs).

I also got to move a pile of rotten wood today that is very rotten (the wood not the task), so that was fun well OK not fun OK it was rotten.

Oooooo yes

 I have pizza for tea and Meringue, ice cream and walnuts for pud so YUM.

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Ha HA hAh aha AHA hAh haH AH Hah hah ah ah ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah hah hahah hha haha h

I seem to have done lots and achieved nothing today…….. No that is a lie I have achieved nothing and done nothing today and that means I am in a difficult position to write a diary entry. When I say a difficult position I don’t mean I have been tied to the radio mast on the top of the house by the dog with bailer twine while he steals all the money in my piggy bank so he can go and get bones from his favourite butcher, No I managed to escape from that some time ago.  And I am no longer handcuffed and tied in a sack which is in a steel box, padlocked and wrapped in chains for dads experiment; I got out of that too. What I mean is I have too write about nothing again.

It is not easy to write about nothing, but I think this is the third or fourth time I have had to do it now; and what would that very nice Steven Spielberg think if I just gave up and said oooo nothing happened today ……Mmmmmm Cheery O. He did not just give up when he made that film with a horse in it, no he persevered and managed several hours of horse film, when we all know that a ROB film would be far more exciting. And I would be better at interviews, scrapping your front hoof on the ground three times when someone asks you “As a horse would you say the underlying paradox of the emotion shown by the film knowing as you do that the producers cat Tiddles was eating your film look alike Henry Horse shows in the films dialogue” is just not good enough is it.

AH ……. . Now what? Did you know that mice are generally small things that go EEK and have tails (I am not referring to computer mice), and it has been a lovely sunny day (mostly) today. On that subject Mr Paul (not Captain Nessman of the High Seas) and his wife came over to mum and dad, apparently Mr Paul is from the diplomatic corps and is in negotiations to turn off dad’s weather machine during the Olympic fortnight. They seem to think dad is a mad scientist who has been paid loads of money to disrupt the opening ceremony, in particular the 100, 000  nude Morris dancers and Cliff Richard (I don’t think Cliff will be nude by the way), and the big finale sing-a-long, ‘The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round…….’

OK sorry that’s it all I can say now is

oooo nothing happened today ……Mmmmmm Cheery O……. …… ……

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The Witch the Bonfire and a Sign of the Tims

Today is Saturday and it has been relatively quiet today. First thing this morning we noticed several large groups of teenage walkers walking along the Shropshire way which happens to pass along the road we live on.  The dog thinks there may be a connection to the long running saga of The Wicked Witch of the West, who as you know has had her head bitten off. Because yesterday I mentioned that the great Lord of all the land had in the past had problems with Mary Poppins and the pesky kids with the dog when she ran up and down hills singing. So not only has the wicked Witch of the West got no head but all the pesky kids are heading in the opposite direction to the village (sorry Town) loaded up like they are not going back.

I have been having a large bonfire today trying to clear some of the piles of stuff from the garden. I did manage to keep it going despite the showers of rain. It has got very gloomy again for a British summer but then it is tennis season that has always brought rain in abundance, and if I remember it (the tennis) even had that Mary Poppins doing a crowd sing along once. Well until security got hold of her and the pesky kids and threw them out for causing a disruption.  My watch has stopped now …..COME ON TIM (sorry TIME) HAHAHH HAH ha hahh aha hah haha hah ah hah ahah ahaha hahahh haha .

The Ghost Writer is here again he has promised to sort a laptop out for a man up a hill, not the hill that Mary Poppins and The Wicked Witch of the West ran up and down, but another hill with a sign at the bottom saying ‘NO Witches, NO Musical characters, No Singing, No Dukes lingering half way, No door to door water collectors’ ……. Just to be on the safe side. That Cliff Richard did try and sing once on the hill but his excuse was he was a Cliff not a hill and a completely different geographical feature.

I have pointed out to the Ghost Writer a sign that I had put on our drive that says  ‘NO IDIOTS running about in the dark with a camera and a torch’ ……….. He says……. AH   

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The Stanley Knife and the cat flap. Dirty Harry and the bookcase

Has the Internet speeded up ever so slightly, I don’t know but when I say slightly I mean it (ARE YOU LISTENING BT) I doubt it, GGGgrrrrrrrrrrr and stuff like that. I will continue to inform of their progress on Facebook and my blog so the entire world knows. I have been fitting a cat flat tonight because out in the wilds of the wild it is up to the individual to find their own amusement. And until I can find the things I need I am tinkering at DIY.

Mum says it is useful to be able to do DIY as one day I will annoy someone by never quite getting round to putting that kitchen shelf up. A bit like dad but as he says himself once you start to make life size steam powered dinosaurs and perpetual motion machines there is little enthusiasm for a shelf, unless it is for armadillo shaped objects such as the toaster and the magpie chaser.

As it happens most of the tools are still in boxes in storage in a room in a house in Montgomery so getting the cat flap in the door was not as straight forward as it normally would be and I had to cut a hole in the door with a Stanley knife. Well a Stanley knife and a hammer, and although it sounds a bit brutal it did work quite well.

As with the front door as I have previously mentioned we have two, the same is true of the back door. But the outer back door will definitely require the right tools it is a rather sturdy UPVC thing so a Stanley Knife was never going to work. Still the cats can get through one of the doors, only they refuse to use the cat flap now, typical.

By the way I noticed that one of my facts was wrong the other day, this is not good if I don’t use truth in my diary then it will loose all credibility and be written off as shear fantasy and the work of a nutter (as in Madman not Brazil nuts that Captain Flint the Parrot eats, he is OK by the way and singing pirate songs again at night). Right the fact I got wrong was I said we had five bookcases from IKEA now this is not true as we have six, I am sorry for this error. What with all the rushing about and stuff I kind of lost count; a bit like that Dirty Harry bloke in the film with the bullets (not bookcases).

OK that’s it I off now to jump up and down on the head of a tiger skin rug holding a I hate BT placard. I would post it on Youtube but I can’t because our broadband is very very very slow.  

Ecstasy and teenagers with dummies, teeth, the Garden of Eden and the Eden Project.

Well last nights meal was good although there were three young teenage kids who were sucking dummies outside and kicked the door rather hard. As it happens the door was made of steel so they may be wandering about limping now. The word IDIOT seems to come to mind. But what’s all this teenagers with dummies stuff, I thought I was the Eccentric Child.

The dog has suggested it is to indicate to the world that they are also dummies, not as in sit in a Volvo and then get driven at high speed at a wall. More run at a wall at high speed and bounce off it, the dummies then stop their teeth falling out. Although the dog is fairly convinced that the hardened few who persist with the habit long term end up lying in a bed with railings like a large cot going GAGA GUGU (not a reference to the singer by the way).

The dog also says it’s an Ecstasy thing, those on Ecstasy do grind their teeth a lot and a good dummy (or to be technical A Pacifier) stops them from grinding their teeth to nothing.

Anyway today has been about a bit of gardening behind Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop and several trips to the recycling with garden waste. Well that was hard work; I am not entirely sure why I am clearing his garden for him. I know he does not like gardening not since all that trouble in the Garden of Eden in Cornwall when he got all confused with the other one; convincing a party of pensioners to eat the only  black watermelon in Britain. He told them it would restore their teeth and they would all have sparkly white smiles and their days of swapping false teeth in the day room at the old folk’s home would be over.  As it happened their trip to the Eden Project was over instead, although they put up a good fight according to Mr Beelzebub and in the end the police were called.

We have also just about sorted the invite for the Christmas Preview at Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop on the 4^th Nov and the Angel of the Norse is a bit goldish in colour although still has no hands yet and My Beelzebub says he wants it to be flying in the Window how ……. WHAT ….. NOT FAIR.  Mum says he is the devil and its best just to get on and sort it, I think I better get some advice from the dog. No he’s not that good at flying or the high wire act as it happens but he is very good at technical stuff.  

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Mexican Food the prehistoric caveman, IKEA and shopping out of Town

Sometimes fitting everything in can be rather hard and today is one of those days partly because we are going out to eat at a Mexican Restaurant in Mexico. At least getting there is easy I can use the Einstein Cube; It came back, it’s a long story and well we don’t have time to tell it with is very ironic considering it’s the Einstein Cube. Anyway I have been busy.

Charlie and Miss Jane are coming with us to eat they rather fancied Mexican food and so in about two hours we will be there eating YUM (when I say YUM I just mean YUM and not eating a YUM). The Angel of the Norse has had a quick undercoat with some spray paint to seal the cardboard although it still has no hands yet

I have also moved a load of stuff from one room to another room so that when we move it can be moved to another room in another house so that it can be sorted and moved to other rooms where it can then stay for years gathering dust until someone’s says we don’t need that and throws it away.  I wonder if prehistoric caveman did this;

Mrs Caveman ……. Do we really need this round Wheel (for the want of a better word) thing on the wall; Ugg (Mr Caveman)

Mr Caveman ……….Well it might come in useful one day

Mrs Caveman …... Well could you of at least made it flat thin and long then it would have been useful as a Shelf (for the want of a better word)

Mr Caveman ……….I have heard of Shelves a wise caveman told me that man will never master shelves.

Mrs Caveman ….. Surely if we were to maybe sacrifice something to the great god IKEA it would help us with our Shelves.. How about that stupid round Wheel thing you have on the wall

Anyway they did and to this day you can’t get to an IKEA without using wheels. No its true you try and walk.

I seem to have lost the plot tonight yet again Mum has said IDIOT. But men still can not put up shelves

Spiders, Sultans, Dodo's and President Fidel Castro.

Miss Fionaski called in today to see mum, she often does this on Tuesdays where they exchange plain brown envelopes. I think it is a spy thing although they say NO and that I am not to say so in my diary ……..AH. Mum just said IDIOT. But one thing Miss Fionaski did say was that she has spiders the size of sultans in her bathroom at the moment. This made me think …….. Hello that’s a bit odd.

Only yesterday the subject of spiders the size of an Okapi in bathrooms was mentioned in cyberspace and now we have them the size of a sultan. Well that is a bit scary, the dog says I am being a whimp and they are completely arm less and is now rolling about laughing hysterically on the floor. Mum has in informed me the spiders were not as big as sultan’s they were as big as raisins, I knew some sort of dried fruit was involved. Mum has added IDIOT again now.

School was one of those days when school is school, and writing about it would not generate any interest what so ever. Even Esmeralda got bored of catapulting the school cat over the rugby posts with the catapult she found in the woods. I can only assume the Dodo’s have been trying to fly again. So I have told the dog and he is going off to talk to them yet again about building catapults.

Now I suspect some people who do not read my diary everyday might be at a bit lost by now but that is entirely your own fault, just as well I have not mentioned the Lemmings of Petrograd ……….AH, I have. Now look I have been distracted; so stop messing about and pay attention …….MMMMMMMMMMMMMmmm

On the way home from school on the bus we saw a man who looked just like President Fidel Alejandro Castro in a local bar in town which is unusual he was waiting for a drink in a long queue. A Bar Queue or even a Queue Bar ……. (HA HAH HAH ha hahaha hahhah ha hah hahhaha hahhaha hahah ha). The dog recons my joke is worse than his but mum has said IDIOTS now.

It is interesting that my world has always been influenced by the brain wave fluctuations between the so called real world and my own world in cyberspace but there is also an increasing influence by the various worlds of cyberspace on my world so things are all very complex at times.

Oooooooooo by the way dad had to have a quick trip to see the solicitor about the house move but he had to use the Einstein Cube because the solicitor is in Austria at the moment in his little house on the mountain. I do hope you all know about the Einstein Cube and how it works as it has been a while since I explained it. 

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The Cross Blog Okapi Song

Okapi Okapi
Where have you bin
I’ve bin to a bathroom
To watch spiders and sin

Okapi Okapi

What did you see
I saw a young child
He was screaming at me

Okapi Okapi

What did you do
Hid behind mirror
Then ran back to the zoo

Okapi Okapi

How did you fair
I think I’ve made it
Mum googled a six legged, one eyed ……. Bear?




There has been a question asked I think and it is best therefore to explain. This is best done by viewing the origins of the Bathroom Okapi (.....thinks could I make my fortune selling Bathroom Okarpet Mats to the masses). .......... ...... Someone just shouted IDIOT 

Please click on pic for a trip to the origins of the Okapi 

Radical Genetically Modified Encoded Programming and the Society of Little Old Ladies. Sunday Roast and Triffids

Sunday and after a quiet start to the day in which the ghost writer was invited for lunch, he suddenly had to leap into action to fix a computer near Welshpool. We don’t know why he does these things he says it’s his good deed and that most computer people don’t do good deeds; in fact most of them will rip you off, so he says.

We had also forgotten it was The Autumn Day of the Dinner when loads of people take over the Town Hall and have Dinner (OK Lunch) including the little know but much feared Society of Little Old Ladies. They don’t often appear on mass but the smell of a free Sunday roast; jelly and Town Hall coffee means it can be very scary if you stand in the wrong place.  Tourists and small children have been known to vanish never to be seen again, under the un-imposable ( ??? do I mean that or not) force of the stampeding hoards of The Society of Little Old Ladies.

They then had the opportunity to visit the museum for free and so they did on mass where they discussed the old days when they could throw rotten fruit at the folk in the stocks; not like today when they are only allowed to throw rotten fruit at innocent passers by who can run away. As they say it is not the same at all…… String them all up ********** tourists; even the dog said he does miss chewing the occasional leg in the stocks and he now gets told off if he chews passers by.

Finally Mad Bob the Digger was out with his digger moving trees about. This is a strange and relatively new tradition introduced to Montgomery a few years ago where trees in large containers are moved about at regular intervals often a few days sometimes a few months to different parts of the town. Rumour has it that Mad Bob the Digger was so impressed by the film The Day of the Triffids, that he is training the trees to move (eventually) on their own. It appears that with time the act of moving will become encoded into the DNA of the trees. Much in the same way as at present the DNA of trees has encoded them not to move. I asked mum about this so called Radical Genetically Modified Encoded Programming or REP-GM as it is called in the New Scientist magazine and she said IDIOTS.

It may have been much easier if Mad Bob the Digger had asked dad if he could make some more Steam Powered Triffids like he did in book one. But then look at all the trouble they caused so maybe not. Its dark now too. 

Napoleon Beelzebub and The Mysterious Bagpipe Man of the Hills. The Charleston and ancient dance rituals.

It is the 1^st Oct and it is officially the hottest day ever, going right back to when the earth was a molten mass with lava flows running down the high street into the main square where the masses would scream and run to avoid it all. Well that’s what Napoleon Beelzebub says but I think he might be getting a little confused between here and the darker depths of his cellar.

Anyway even if it is true this time everyone was sitting about in the Sun (the one in the sky not the rather good place to eat in Marton). Or had run off to the coast to strip off and get sun burnt so that they will all be bright red and lay about groaning tomorrow, it is very easy to see how Napoleon Beelzebub can get things confused.

Those people who did venture into his shop today (Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop) were confronted by the new law in Wales that says all carrier bags must be paid for and although most were OK some people grumbled, it is not good to grumble in  Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop at present Mr Beelzebub has all sorts at the moment who say its all a big mistake and I am nice really underneath or someone has to torture everyone I am just doing an honest days work or even I will give you all my camels, he is not a fan of Camels but the mention of camels will give me a good music link for the Blog tonight so I am quite pleased.

So he threatened everyone with The Mysterious Bagpipe Man of the Hills who came and played classic Scottish songs until everyone donated to the school fund in payment of the carrier bags, (it did not take long).

Finally some of the town’s folk are descending on the Town Hall tonight to dance the Charleston under red lights and in strange dress. I think if must be a ritual to appease Mr Beelzebub after the arrival of The Mysterious Bagpipe Man of the Hills today. I bet the Welsh Government did not think that, when they thought up all these silly laws on carrier bags it would all end in bagpipes, flapper dresses and ancient dance rituals.

The UK heat wave and the the occupational hazards of Physics teachers

Today is even hotter than yesterday so today is very hot.  There is another preview of art at Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop tonight so lots of running about by mum as she sorts this out. Napoleon Beelzebub has had a whole load of paperwork suddenly arrive from, He Who Must be Obeyed; in connection with the entire Bahrain ruling family.

Mr Beelzebub is muttering about paperwork now and complaining that the last thing he needs down in the depths of his establishment is even more leaders of non democratic countries who only complain at him about stuff. Which incidentally is not really the thing to do if you don’t want eternal damnation to get worse than it is? But as Mr Beelzebub often says POWER corrupts and that luckily I will never need to worry about that happening to me …. Phew that’s good.

Talking about power we were doing an experiment at school on power in teams, somehow I ended up in a team with Esmeralda so I let her be leader just in case. Electricity can be really interesting especially when you can get it to arc across the entire classroom from the end of a metal poker (the one I made in metalwork) to the head of the new replacement Physics supply teacher. He must have been quite impressed himself because he shouted and leapt in the air waving his arms about. Unfortunately the school had a power cut just then and the teacher must have slipped somehow because he had to go to hospital, he appeared to be a little charred but that is one of the occupational hazards of Physics teachers.

I really must try and get my poker back from Esmeralda, I have tried asking for it a couple of times now but she snarls at me. I wonder if she is related to Mr Beelzebub although he is no where near as scary as she is.

Anyway I will have to go as I need to look smart for the preview and talk posh to people and Sooty the Cat is meowing and trying to dribble into my keyboard which will do no one no good. Sooty it is one of those days.

Sorry I'm in a bit of a rush today ...................................................... Life really 




............................................................. A few hours Later

Fiona Knight                Yes it is rather barmy weather, however make the most of it as next week we shall be back into to our arctic fleeces as temperatures are really going to drop by Wednesday. Have a great evening at the preview, and keep sooty away from your posh clothes otherwise you know what your mum will say.....

I have returned from being nice to the punters and telling them that art is very important and they should buy original work from artists. After all it is one of the things that distinguishes us from other animals, well most other animals because there are several birds that like to ornate their nests. The dog says this might mean that mankind is descended from Birds, which might also account for our long term desire to fly, lets face it most animals have little or no desire to fly anywhere. The dog also thinks this may also account for the irrational flapping of arms in moments of crisis by the human race unlike dogs who hide under a table or bite something.

I think Miss Fionaski might be right about the weather because the Joules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy machine has been muttering about the autumn storm again and saying that we should remember it is autumn and the fact it is hotter than it was in summer is just lulling us into a false sense of security. Captain Flint the parrot has just said WE ARE ALL DOOMED but mum has added IDIOT......

The haul of Silver Treasure, MI6, The CIA and the secret service. Plus and the grumbling Parrot.

Typical as we head back to school on the school bus, the sun is shining and the sky is blue and it is nice and warm. Although having said that Miss Elaine has said via the miracles of the internet that she is going into hiding as a tornado is due (the windy stuff not the jet fighter ……I think?). The dog always compares such things as this to throwing toast on the floor (Sorry accidently dropping).

The dog and I even tested this by accidently dropping loads of toast on the floor and every single bit landed butter, maple syrup, anchovy and peanut butter side down. Mum then shouted at us even though I explained it was an experiment and I ended up with no toast and going to school hungry while the dog ate all the toast with butter, maple syrup, anchovy and peanut butter on the floor …… NOT FAIR. Luckily I did hide a few bits in my shirt for lunch time although I was rather sticky and was attacked by wasps at break time. So I had toast with butter, maple syrup, anchovy and peanut butter sandwiches with eye pie and pork scratching jelly for pudding, its well yummy especially the crunchy bits.

When I got home the dog, and the Ghost of Steven Spielberg were sun bathing, can a ghost sun bath? Anyway that is a distraction, Captain Flint the Parrot was complaining that someone had found all his silver hidden in his pirate ship at the bottom of the sea and he had given me the treasure map to look after, and now look what had happened. Funnily I have not seen the treasure map since Pirate Pete left on his adventure with Rusty the Six Legged Steam Powered Dog that dad made.

The Dog thinks that Pirate Pete sold the map to MI6 and the CIA so he could buy a flash ship like Captain Nessman of the High Seas has. And the Secret Service has invented a cover story to run off with Captain Flint the Parrot’s stash of Pirate gold and silver. Even mum thinks it is very likely so it must be true. The Parrot said he plans to take MI6 to court to get his booty back (that’s the silver not his shoes). But dad says if he tries he will end up with concrete booties and a trip to the lake so best to stay mum (that’s as in quiet not become a mum, he’s the wrong sex).

Well that’s it now; a squawking complaining parrot all night even with a pile of extra Brazil nuts.

Wildebeest, the Financial Times and the Christmas Angel in an Ark eating ice cream

An overcast Sunday with no wind no people, just a few Wildebeest, Sheep and Cows picking at the grass vergers, does not lend itself to a day of excitement. Even the dog has got his head buried in the Financial Times and is muttering about the impending global economic melt down. He thinks the price of bones is about to increase and he may have to eat the cats.

So I am writing this bit of my diary now, before I venture off to adventure although as things stand I may end up chasing Wildebeest up and down the road. This can be rather exciting when they stampede, but the problem is I am not a Lion and they tend to look at me and just carry on eating the grass vergers. It’s Mr Jenkins from next door’s new hobby, making religious relics out of grass, the local verger is very old and definitely a relic.

 Now look that is not the point; the point is I am not a lion, and to a Wildebeest that is an important point, mum has just said IDIOT she would not say that if I was a Lion I’m sure. Dam it I have lost the thread now so will go away and return much later. Bye

I have returned several hours later and guess what there is no one about, everyone who lives in our little road has vanished the main square has been abandoned so this is not the best situation for a diary. I think if they make the block buster movie this will be the point to go a get an ice-cream from those nice ladies in the aisle, although the dog says they vanished with the arc. Did they; I didn’t know that and is it an ark or an arc because that will affect the timing, I asked the dog but he said IDIOT.

Sunday in Montgomery. 

Unfortunately the Wildebeest has just run round the corner into the main square otherwise the town is deserted  

Anyway the one good thing that has come out of all this quiet is I have started the Christmas Angel (fairy) for the Christmas window in Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop. Apparently I will be in big bother if I don’t get it done in time, it needs to be produced by the 4^th November in time for the big Christmas Preview. YICKS. 

Mark Zuckerberg and the new Facebook. Sooty the Cat, the dog, the Ghost writer and a game of Poker

It was interesting in school we were all doing our school work and pottering about as you do taking bets on two flies walking up a window pane. Sadly the one fly had to be disqualified for being on Steroids. We told the History teacher that they really should not leave their steroids on the window sill and that a fly had been walking on them.

Then out of the blue projected onto the walls of the school class rooms we suddenly had a very nice man called Mark Zuckerberg. Well we all know who he is; he’s the Facebook man, although he is still very young and bouncy as the Ghost Writer puts it. A bit like Sooty the Cat who is lovely but drives us all mad, so they have a lot in common, although I’m sure Mr Zuckerberg does not eat eight meals a day. OK he might because we were watching him on the wall (not in person but his projected image) and he talked about food a lot at one point. Sooty the cat does that too only he goes Meeeeeeeeeeeoooowww over and over again.

Anyway he was going on about changing everything and looking at patterns in our friends. I tried to look at Esmeralda’s patterns but they just looked very scary so I pretended that I was looking at things in her ear although she still hit me with the poker (the one I made in metalwork). Mr Zuckerberg's image said we will all need to study very hard for our IT degrees or else we will not pass our Facebook entry examination…… AH. That might scupper my plans a bit, I don’t like exams much. The very nice Mr Zuckerberg also said we all love Apps. Well, that’s not true, me and the Ghost Writer for two don’t do Apps. But the dog thinks it’s all a cunning plan.

The dog recons that Mr Zuckerberg was in Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop today signing a bit of paper and all this Apps stuff is so he can make loads and loads of money. Well that would be fine only he is already worth loads and loads of money; unlike me and the Ghost Writer. The dog beat us again today at poker so the dog is worth loads and loads of money until the morning when he plans to blow the lot on bones and jelly. YUK.

I seem to need more pictures too, if I use Facebook. Mr Zuckerberg had loads of them on his wall and I just have loads of words. The dog said people like pictures more that words and  a single picture can tell the story of a thousand words, so it is just as well I write as much as I do, not having many pictures.

One thing that did puzzle me while Mr Mark Zuckerberg was projected on the school walls is if he is on Facebook, then why has he not asked to be my friend as I write more than almost everyone on Facebook. Mum said IDIOT but I am not sure who she means?

Ooooo by the way I would just like to thank Mr Mark Zuckerberg for helping me on another rather quiet autumn day for news……… THANKS

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy Mole Bubble Squeak and IDIOTS

School has slipped back into the normal routine of life now; no one remembers the long summer holiday any longer and the teachers are all grumbling that they need a holiday as the pupils are very stressful and demanding. Some of them don’t even do their homework (that’s teachers not pupils).

But as we pointed out to the History teacher we don’t have to rub the nose of Samuel Taylor Coleridge in the morning at school  before starting work and that it is traditional for pupils to be rubbish, it is what we are good at………….  

I’m sure no one is interested but the full stop in the wrong place that would not delete turned out to be a mark on my monitor, (HA HAH HAHHah hah hahahahahhah hh ha ha) mum just said IDIOT.

We have a mole that has returned to our lawn, dad is convinced it has been sent by the people from Italy who are buying our house, to mess the lawn up so they can go AH LOOK that’s three hundred thousand pounds off the price as you have a lumpy lawn. Dad is trying plan one which is to put bits of fire lighter down the holes only he said after about twenty minutes he had to stop because the smell was making him ill. Well that is a good sign although the plan is to get rid of the mole not the people from the lawn.

It is an interesting thing about moles but everyone you meet has an old family remedy for the removal of moles from lawns and dad had to listen to several of them in the shop when he bought the fire lighters. He did say it was a shame that the Thirty Foot Steam Powered Alien Monster malfunctioned as it would be ideal because it has a death ray; but mum said better to have a lumpy lawn than no lawn. Unlike custard when it is better to have no custard than lumpy custard (I said that), no one likes lumpy custard except maybe the dog and Captain Flint the Parrot and he insists that the lumps have Brazil nuts in so it’s not the same at all.

I have lost the plot tonight entirely and I am staring into space in a glazed over fashion like a large balloon with a smiley face on so I am very sorry. This is the sort of thing that happens when you work in real time. When I say real you know what I mean don’t you.

We definitely had a mole in book one I remember but I don’t remember what happened to him.  Talking of smiley faces. Maybe it’s a sign because there is the remake of the film Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and that has moles in it. Dad says he thought that Sir Alec Guinness looked like a mole (the one in the Lawn not MI6)

Finally we had orange Bubble and Squeak for tea tonight; I can understand the Squeak but why is it called Bubble????? 

Tiggy Booth-jones                   Nought wrong with large balloons with smiley faces ....... and all depends on your perspective on life

Paul Nessman                           Like a large balloon as in, "...the famous Mk2 exploding Morris Dancing Doll with the special pyrotechnics Catherine Wheel arms and legs which performs the nudge nudge wink wink double helix exploding death leap."?

 The following Morning ..............................................................................

AH ……. not that I'm paranoid but I thought I was spelling balloon wrong somewhere and in fact it was not me AHha hah hahHAHA AH HA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHh ahHAHAHa sorry Captain Nessman ......... Phew ..... and by the way you're right............. off i go to SCHOOL again

Samuel Taylor Coleridge and the large bowl of semolina pudding

The school teachers were in a bit of turmoil today it appears their lucky talisman that they all touch in the morning to protect them from the demonic children as the Home Economics teacher put it, had been stolen. Well they thought it had been stolen, it’s a bronze bust of Samuel Taylor Coleridge with an old fisherman on his head.

It became the teacher’s lucky mascot and talisman when it fell on the head of Slippery Slim the well known sneak thief when he tried to sneak in to school and steal all the pupils dinner tokens from the safe for his son. And destroy all the end of term reports after the previous report where someone in the English dept had written young master Slim must try harder and is capable of better work, and the maths teacher just said he is rubbish and has a school dinner fixation which we recommend getting help for, as they are rubbish too. He was trying do it undercover of the noise from the road works outside but as a result of the vibration of pneumatic drills, it fell off its shelf (Samuel Taylor Coleridge) and landed on his head making him scream and as a result he was caught. Anyway since then it has been the teachers lucky talisman and every day they all rub his nose for luck; (I wish I hadn’t started all this it is all a distraction) but he does have a shinny nose.

The point is the teachers were a jabbering wreck and although all the pupils tried to be good it was something of a lost cause. The head girl did then try and explain they need to have faith in God and their own abilities not a lucky talisman which would not help. But the RE teacher said ITS OK FOR YOU and hit the head girl over the head with a huge bowl of semolina pudding from the canteen; it was not a pretty sight that’s for sure.

The Head girl somewhat dazed and semi blinded by the semolina pudding staggered down the school corridor groaning but the rest of the teachers thought it was a monster and ran away screaming while trying to recite The Ancient Mariner and saying without their talisman they were all doomed. 

We never learnt much today except maybe another verse of The Ancient Mariner and that semolina is very slippery a bit like Slippery Slim, who ironically fell in it when he came to pick his son up from school and claim he was innocent and it was a stitch up by the headmaster. 

As it turned out the Ghost writer was clearing his rubbish out of the school cellar (he has stuff everywhere) and the bronze bust of Samuel Taylor Coleridge got mixed up in a big pile of rubbish accidently. But the ghost writer noticed his shinny nose glinting in the sunlight when he threw all the rubbish in the skip at the recycling place in town. So by early evening he was back on his shelf and all is well again, (the bust of Samuel Taylor Coleridge not the Ghost Writer)

A Radiogram. The Anti Pylon Movement of Montgomeryshire The Mona Lisa and the British-Russian trade deal

Well after a very long day at the grey office the ghost writer has called in to see us and has had a grumble and said PHEW, a lot. We tried to get rid of him but it took ages and all it does is mess up our entire day’s diary entry. In fact I cant remember what I did at school anymore, although I do remember there was a big flash………… I will have a think.

............................................................................a bit later after thinking

AH yes the flash I remember it was the art lesson. It was Rob not me but the other one. I have nothing against him except he is called Rob and it could have messed up my entire story. But he decided that he wishes to be a performance artist so for his fist act of art he decided to fly over the school in a giant air balloon in the shape of the Mona Lisa that glowed and breathed fire out of the Mona Lisa’s nostrils. He had built it as his art project for A level. The art teacher was desperate to stop him trying this stunt today because of the gale force winds but give Rob his due he insisted. After all despite the wind it was very sunny.

All went well at first it was very impressive but once the Mona Lisa was clear of the school and the tall trees the wind took the balloon straight into the path of an electricity Pylon and in a huge flash of light both Mona Lisa and the other Rod vanished. His mum who had turned up to see him was very sad but she did said he was an IDIOT.

Still it does mean we only have one Rob in the story and its Me YYyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaa mum just said IDIOT, that’s my mum not the other mum of the other Rob.  

The anti pylon movement of Montgomeryshire are planning to use the incident as an example of why Scottish Power should be stopped from building huge pylons across the countryside but as the dog points out it is not often that a huge Mona Lisa is going to float gently across the Montgomeryshire countryside and hit pylons. Or like today float very fast across the Montgomeryshire countryside, how come our electricity is Scottish when we live in Wales?

While on the subject of morality, big business, ethics and principle and stuff like that. I noticed out great leader the Prime Minister signed a trade deal worth millions of pounds today with Russia, and as both parties pointed out. You can’t allow differences in morality, ethics, principles, justice, and human rights and stuff like that get in the way of a good business deal. Mercedes (my Friend not the car would be very proud of me). She apparently through her wireless through the window, My Pickup has told her he plans to buy her a radiogram instead because its heavier, WELL COOL.

It might sound mad but has this happened before in book one, I be dammed if I can remember but it sounds like it might of. 

The End of the Book. A small Ant and a small red button and . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It is the final day of the school holiday in Wales and the final day in my diary for year one. We have all had a long think about what we should do or say as this is an important moment in time, but in the end we are chilling out with a cup of tea. Helping others with DIY still and things like that. It is a rather perverse thing writing a diary because the more you do the less time you have to write about what you have done.

As my world is linked to yours through the mind of “Old Grumpy” known as the Ghost Writer it is even more complicated to write up the events of the day. And it is getting late again and I have stuff to do and the general things of life like putting stuff away cleaning teeth moving about clearing things away from the day folding clothes or as mum describes it throwing everything in a heap in the middle of the floor.

Anyway this is not want you want to hear is it that nice Mr Steven Spielberg is hardly likely to make the movie of the book, if as the credits slowly roll down or up the screen the last image is that of a pile of clothes being sniffed at by a huge dog muttering in Latin.

Still it could be worse it could be like one of the Lord of the Rings movies where they suddenly end with three odd looking people wondering over a hill saying PHEW THAT WAS CLOSE. Do you think there is anymore popcorn down in the foyer? Mum just said IDIOT and has told me to get on with it

You will notice that I have changed since I started (I don’t mean clothes although I have I think) it is time and getting older and getting more ambitious, and early on many of our international readers did say WHAT a lot. So I am more articulate and easier to understand now so maybe by the end of the next book I might even make sense, although that may not be a good move. I will be adding a thank you to all soon, and tomorrow I will be back in Cyberspace as normal, but readers of the book will now have to go out and buy volume two so that I can continue living a life of abject luxury and decadence OK start living a life of abject luxury and decadence, Mum said IDIOT again.

We are all now watching a small ant wonder across the patio and it appears to have found a small red button saying do not press. This sounds very familiar, ants are curious creatures so we all think he is going to press the button. The dog thinks it will all end it tears but I am not sure the ant has heard or understands the dog because it just pressed the small red button . . . . . . . . Mum just said IDIOT I think she means the ant this time … . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... AH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .