An A to Z Coronavirus observational guide. . . Z

Z

Zombies

It is traditional for folk doing the A to Z to end with a swarm of Zombies and it’s a tradition I plan to continue. Now you may say well that’s not right the Coronavirus might be dangerous but it does not turn folk into Zombies. Well that is true but the fact is it is not the virus that will turn you into a Zombie it is the precautions we take to social distance and isolate under lockdown. 

Many can cope OK . . .  I do, I just pretend every day is Sunday, but others don’t? (that's others dont cope rather than others dont pretend everyday is Sunday) I noticed a certain designer fashion business had changed its target market and was doing well selling hoodies and tracksuit bottoms.  This is a slippery road to self-abandonment. I mean who shuffles about aimlessly wearing hoodies and tracksuit bottoms wondering what to do and forming huge queues outside supermarkets. . . . . . . . Well Zombies do. And don’t think I’ll be OK I won’t slide down this slipper road; because this is the new normal. In a years’ time we will have all succumbed to it as our mental resistance is slowly broken down. It is a terrible fate and one that as time passes becomes more likely as the powers that be talk more and more about how things may need to change for many years.

Maybe it’s a diabolical plan by those in power to finally supresses the masses. And on that cheery note it is time to End the A to Z of 2020 . . . . . . Thank you for reading

It wont get Me

Cows, Zombies and Me, but not Football.

(32....)

I am still working on the workshop; progress is exceedingly slow at present because not having a design can lead to technical issues as you progress. One of which I am trying to sort out in a neat way so that no one will ever know I might have made a design error. And I have almost finished . . . . Phew . . . . It is not structural so the workshop will not fall down, but I needed to sort it before I put the corrugated sheets on the outside walls or that would have been so much harder. Anyway that should now be a piece of cake . . . . . That’s an odd saying. Why something being relatively easy should be linked to a piece of cake makes no sense to me. If someone asked me to make a piece of cake I would consider that extremely difficult indeed. And not a piece of cake even if it was actually a piece of cake if you get my drift.  I mean I can make ginger biscuits dead easy and damn good ones too, but cake no.

I have been out this evening saving a cow which had got onto the road and was well spooked. Not helped by idiots driving too fast and refusing to slow down for the poor critter. Anyway the farmer who owns the cow turned up and it is now safe in its field again. . . . We suspect it may have been Zombies that released it. For reasons I have not yet worked out it seems Cows don’t like Zombies and Zombies don’t like Cows. Actually when you look back on films involving Cows and Zombies it is hard to think of one where both Cows and Zombies feature, generally its either one or the other.

Right I plan to have a cup of tea and a chill not watching football in any form whatsoever . . . . I am not a fan of football and I suspect neither are the Cows or the Zombies. So despite our differences we have much in common.

The Village Market and a Mad Vicar

(10...)

Today was Market Day in our little village, when I say little it is small just a huddle of houses. Although we do have a village hall (the location of the market), a garage, a health food shop and a church, but no vicar. We used to have a vicar but he retired and the new one went mad and ran away. Vicars are not keen on Zombies or Witches Covens and because we’re not that far from The Devil’s Chair we have both in abundance and they do like a quiet church for parties and general get togethers.  Something some vicars can find tricky to come to terms with.

Anyway back to the point. My wife and I headed off to the market to buy stuff. There are veggies, an ethnic stall that sells some nice shirts for £10 (a bargain, I have loads), a bread stall with very nice bread. They are a strange religious group, but seem a nice bunch of folk. Well the women are; I have never seen any men and the women are all from the USA. There is a smallholder who sells great sausages and bacon and someone selling interesting cheeses. There is also a chap selling ancient tools that old folk like me chat too and ponder tools from the past. OOOooooo and the man who sells me loads of bird food. . . . I’m sure he has trained them (the Birds) to eat extra.  . . . . And a few other stalls from time to time plus the option of tea and bacon butty’s on site . . . (I now have them as the occasional treat, not every week).

Anyway after a chat about stuff and then wandering home it was time for a cup of tea and a bit of cake and then some lunch and a chill with another cup of tea. A chap needs to rest after a long morning testing sausage samples and poking at obscure tools and complaining about how much small birds can eat.

After lunch it started raining again (I was not happy) but I ventured out towards the workshop I am making and did some proper work fixing a breathable membrane on the outside of the structure before I clad it. Thanks to the rain I still can’t fit the roofing felt. And I must take a few pics soon.

I then ate food. Pasta, so something healthy which means I can maybe eat something unhealthy later, we will see.  I am chilling again now in the office and the cats have not found me yet so it is peaceful and that is good.

So that’s it . . . .  a fairly uninteresting day in general, but this is a diary and folk dont leap about doing exciting things every day.

The First Zombie Ballard of Christmas 2015

Zombies under carpets

Zombies in the hall

Zombies in the corner store

Zombies playing with a Ball

And if you ask a policeman

How to escape and get away

You will find he is a Zombie

And nibble at your brain

Almost all of the day

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies having fun

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies on the run

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Tap dancing on the floor

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies tapping at your door

Zombies disguised as cats

Zombies in a tree

Zombies behind curtains

Zombies chasing me 

And it’s no good hiding in the graveyard

Because Zombies like it there

And the vicar will not protect you

Because he is a Zombie

And will not care

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies having fun

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies on the run

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Tap dancing on the floor

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies tapping at your door

Zombies on the tele

Zombies pointing at your head

Zombies in the Goldfish bowl

Zombies in your bed

Zombies are clever beasts

Using their cunning and the their guile

Pretending they are friendly

With their friendly Zombie Smile 

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies having fun

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies on the run

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Tap dancing on the floor

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies tapping at your door

Uncle Jacks a Zombie

So is Auntie Flo

And so is that chap Santa

With his evil Ho Ho Ho

Listen out for footsteps

In the drifting snow

Because it’s probably Santa’s

Little Zombie Helpers

Which means its time to go?

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies having fun

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies on the run

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Tap dancing on the floor

Zombies Zombies Zombieeeees

Zombies tapping at your door

The Exponential Time Curve of DIY, Lists & Zombies

So what did I do today well not a lot I did manage to clean up the last window in the Kitchen, which has been lingering about as a job to do for some time now.  I have over time come to realize that working on the house you actually live in has its own issues that need to be taken into account.  One of the more important of these is the completion of the task, OK it sounds dead easy, but it is not. You see you start off all keen and enthusiastic and the job skips along like a kangaroo chasing a porcupine on a skateboard, but the nearer you get to completion the slower you work. Eventually you will come to a grinding halt although it can be difficult to judge at what point this will happen; with luck it will be with something tiny left to do that folk will not notice. 

Now some of you will be thinking OOOOoooooo no I would never do that, but anyone who does any DIY on their own home, which here in Britain is loads of folk will know this is a universal truth.  I am sure that there is a wise old Chinese saying from back in time that says something like. . . . . No man should ever completely finish working on his own home if he wishes to remain happy. . .  It is a wise if sexist saying, but back then old Chinese sayings could be a bit like that, lets face it political correctness is not something history is abundant in.

However in respect to completing the work in the kitchen this was the last awkward little job to get done and it is all chilled from now on with only a few tiny wafer thin bits left to do which based on the Exponential Time Curve of DIY (that’s Do It Yourself if this is a term not used outside of Britain).  So in a mere 15 years it will all be done. However there are loads of other jobs to do I have a list which was given to myself and our friendly builder Chris. Although Chris the friendly builder was given his own list by his wife so he is a bit busy at present, well up to the point he has almost finished then he will be back. We have a project to start in the garden building a Welsh Chapel lookalike Summerhouse and bolthole to escape from passing Zombies.   Zombies avoid Welsh Chapels because they will say. . . It is full of Hymn. . . . . HA HAH ahah ah ah a ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah a hah  

Talking of which I still have to write my all new Halloween tale of an old witch from a strange Kingdom where celebrating Halloween was banned until one year when . . . . . . OK that is enough of a hint for now. . . . . Exciting isn’t it . . . AH DAMN

And a bit of Poetry to keep you happy

The strange world of twitter

Is full of bits of litter

Jumbled words in a few short lines

From the jumbled heads of jumbled minds

Where has the Tarra-gone

It’s been missing for some Thyme

It ran off to Coriander

Having heard the Garlic had been crushed

And the Chives all chopped up Fine. 

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

  

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

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

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

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

A Party Political Post involving no Zombie Poetry or Harry Potter

Dear comrades I say comrades because this is a Party Political Broadcast (post) by RATs (Radical Abstract Thinkers) or as it has been pointed out by Mr H . . . . PRATs as we are the Political Radical Abstract Thinkers. Well thank you Mr H for pointing this out to everyone in cyberspace, a note has been made on your file. 

Now the reason we are speaking (typing) to you today is that it is time I mentioned the terrible plight of the Syrian refugees who are risking all to escape their own country. Of course in an ideal world we would all welcome them with open arms and help as many as we can. But it is not a perfect world by a long way; if it was then they would probably not need to leave Syria which if it had been run fairly over the years should be a lovely country. Sadly it has been run corruptly and if you add the various wars that have taken place in recent years in the surrounding countries has been in a state of chaos for a while. 

The result is the Islamic extremist group IS (ISIL or ISIS depending on who you are) plus various other groups including the Syrian Government are involved in a complex war that is spilling over to other countries and appears to show little mercy to the ordinary people of the region.

So the ordinary folk of the region are left with the option of staying put and living in fear of death or leaving with their families and heading to Europe where there is a chance of a better life.  From their point of view the choice is simple, Europe is the land of opportunity where folk are treated fairly and everyone can achieve great things by working hard and people are not left by the wayside to starve and beg or exploited by the corrupt authorities.

As we all know the expectations of the refugees and the reality are rather different and as they enter Europe having been robbed by traffickers and putting their life on the line to get here. They then find they are now just a number in a political tussle as each of the European countries tries to avoid any commitment to help them.  Britain should do its bit and take its fair share in my opinion, as the political instability of Syria and the surrounding region has not been helped by our countries intervention in the politics of the area. 

The Prime Minister Mr Cameron has said several times now that Libya, Syria and Iraq need to find solutions, and yet he appears to do little to find one except help bomb the Extremists of IS. 

Now you might be waiting for me to propose a brilliant solution to it all and come up with a master plan no one has thought of. . . . . AH DAMN YES well sorry about that I don’t have one. But I do think Europe should do more to help those who are risking death to get here and Britain should do its bit and show we are a compassionate nation.  The Syrian refuges do not want all our benefits so they can sit about all day watching TV all they want is the opportunity to live in peace and without fear and where they can work and achieve the best for their family, as we all do.

Tomorrow will see me return to the core subject material of my blog which as we all know is gibberish Zombie Poetry and a bit of Harry Potter and his Mites (sorry Mates).

Remember Vote for PRATs  . . . . Once again many thanks for this Mr H . . .

  

Llandudno. The Zombie Seagulls and The George Hotel

I have returned (OK yesterday afternoon) from my expedition North by what some would say was the pretty route or as the more rational among us like to call it, the long way. So where did we venture in our search for the source of the large great thing that folk have not found the source of yet. Well Llandudno a place where explorers seldom go hunting for things, which logically makes it a prime target to explore, logic dictates that you are more likely to find new things in a place where no one has looked for them. And it is plainly very clear that it has been some time since man looked for new things in Llandudno. 

Our first new discovery was a new breed of seabird; it was a seagull, not just any seagull though but one with very specific eating habits. It hammered away on windows until it was given Ginger Nuts which then appeased the ravenous beast who flew off only to return the following day at the same time.  We have officially named the new breed of bird Seagullious Gingernutium Esmeralda after Esmeralda as it was a fearsome and scary beast that given half a chance would bite half your arm off, and it shouted a lot.  We assume that it might be worshiped by the local Llandudnoians as we did notice they sold three Zombie Gingerbread Men for a pound and had many images of Zombies in Shop Windows.

Our search for the source of the large great thing did not go well until the second evening when a huge ship was hauled through town on a big caterpillar tracked device accompanied by men in orange seafaring equipment. We would not have noticed had it not been for the fact that all the buildings shook and there was a loud low rumbling that sent little old ladies scampering in all directions for cover. There are many little old ladies in Llandudno.

Having concluded that this strange ritual must be connected to our search we set off the following morning in our final bid for glory after a hearty breakfast at base camp (the George Hotel . . . Well Posh) following in the tracks (in more ways than one) of the huge ship. As we did we noticed many little old ladies heading towards M&S and discretely followed as they looked like they could be heading towards the source of the thing we were seeking and interestingly none of the windows  of M&S were full of zombies or skeletons which was suspicious. As we followed this lost tribe of little old ladies up the escalator to the first floor they spoke in a strange tongue, some sort of strange Welsh language.

Following them through the 50% sale rails and towards the café we suddenly found ourselves in a clearing and at the elusive Source of the Aisle. We cheered and raised our flag, a skull and crossbones purchased in a local shop and made of genuine plastic. Our mission complete we returned to base camp and ate afternoon cream tea and watched Zombie Seagulls pecking at the heads of passing joggers on the promenade. It’s their own fault there are signs saying beware of the seagulls.

This is very funny indeed if you have not seen it.

Can Zombies Ride Bicycles. . . . . . . . (PART 3).

The argument continues to rage about whether a Zombie can ride a bicycle or not, when I say rage I am in fact lying but it sounds good. You see the public are apathetic about things, this stuff is important, imagine you are trying to outrun a Zombie and then you find they are chasing you on a bicycle. It is going to make a difference to your escape plan and may involve more stairs and leaps across difficult open voids.

Anyway I thought I need to prove this with an experiment; experiments are one of the things that separate man from beast. You never see a Lion with a clipboard,  wearing a white coat watching a line of test tubes as they skip across the Serengeti . . . . . OK yes you might but only the clever ones, you lot must stop nit picking. . . .

Now as it happens yesterday was the local village Harvest Lunch where the village get together and we all eat loads of food (jolly good food it is too), I would have mentioned it yesterday but I was dealing with the big question of the moment. But it also attracts all the little old ladies out of the woodwork. This is good because if you are planning to do an experiment with Zombies it is best to use something less dangerous than a Zombie but in terms of how it moves about and does things is very similar to a Zombie; a Zombie substitute. Well what better than little old ladies they have many Zombies attributes in terms of physical presence and ability and are slightly less dangerous inasmuch as they don’t try and eat your brain, they merely hit it with umbrellas (the pointy stick of that generation).

Anyway after bribing them with Sweet Sherry, Rich Tea Biscuits and a signed photo of Mr Ken Dodd I was able to get one or two of them to attempt to ride a bicycle. And it proved once and for all that a Zombie would definitely be able to ride a bike although steering it would be a bit erratic, this did cause some issues on the main road during the experiment when passing motorists had to veer a lot into hedges.  And I did discover that one of the main issues, one worth remembering if you are ever pursued by a Zombie on a bicycle is they can’t stop very well.

One interesting extra thing the experiment showed is that Little Old Ladies can swear like troopers or worse than a trooper I would say.  Luckily most of the words were unknown strange country words that are seldom used and things would have been fine had not the curiosity of the vicar not got the better of him. As it happens we had two vicars for the Harvest Lunch and we have all learnt many new words, words that the vicars will never get to use.  I did tell the vicars that Zombies did not use such terrible language but are more likely the rip their arms off and eat their brains.

Apparently vicars don't like Zombies or little old ladies on bicycles so they left.  But I have proved my case. Zombies Can Ride Bicycles, and having now crushed the NO Voters I can move on to another important Question of our time.

Should you have an important Question of our Time why not consider proposing it . . . I am after all a professional blogger now with a blog . . . . . . . . . .      

Can Zombies Ride Bicycles. . . . . . . . (PART 2). . .

 As we have already discovered I like to ramble a lot. This was not helped by someone on the radio last night who said they loved twitter because it was short and to the point. But having had a think about this they are wrong where would The Ancient Mariner, Shakespeare or even my old arch enemy Harry Potter be if they were limited to 140 characters (as in letters spaces and the like not Long John Silver or Luke Skywalker). Which brings us neatly to the big Question . . .?

 Can Zombies Ride Bicycles

Well we can start from the point you never see Zombies on Bicycles, but this is certainly not proof of anything after all I could balance a poodle on my head but it is unlikely if ever to happen and to date has never been seen . . . . OK there was that one time but it does not count as the poodle was made of fibreglass.

As we know most Zombies did not start as Zombies but as straight forward every day folk from off the street. It is a common fact that of the 100% of people on the street a good 67% can ride a bicycle. This figure is much higher in certain countries where bicycles are still the main form of transport for the masses. So it is therefore logical to assume at least 80% of Zombies could ride bicycles prior to becoming a Zombie, the percentage is higher among Zombies because you are more exposed to Zombie attack on a bicycle than in a car or a submarine.

And despite popular belief Zombies limbs will not fall off if they try and move quick, it is one of those urban myths to reassure the public that it is safe to use buses.  Zombies are also quite strong and able to rip the arms and legs off folk with little effort so by selecting the correct gear they should be able to generate enough power to propel a bicycle with them on it.

The key and most important issue is balance and there is a famous and very reliable old saying that I think we can use to resolve things. . . . . . Its Like Riding A Bicycle. . .  Once Learnt You Never Forget.

So Can Zombies Ride Bicycles

The answer is clearly YES.  . . . . However they clearly can’t remember.   

Can Zombies Ride Bicycles. . . . . . . . (PART 1)

Well as politics slides back towards the status quo with many politicians saying things like. . . .NO NO NO we never said Yes what we meant was we will consider the options in the fullness of time . . .  it is time for me to turn my attention away from such issues and back towards the bigger questions of the day. After all as one of the new breed of professional bloggers it is important to duck and dive and be first with those stories that others have not yet noticed.  One thing I have noticed in my role as a professional blogger is I'm not actually earning any money at present, it appears the career of a Professional Blogger is one based on endorsements and promoting products and straightforward advertising. I don't do any of this as I can’t see the point of saying for example . . . THE THOUGHTLESS GIBBERISH 11-IN-1 BESPOKE HANDHELD POINTY STICK (patent pending) is the best thing since sliced bread when everyone knows I have been paid a lot of money to do so.  I am told you can eat sliced bread and even toast it with the new device but I have yet to try.

Anyway all this is a distraction from what is the bigger picture, the big question as I have sort of already mentioned in a roundabout sort of way. And I can tell you are keen to finally know what the big issue on the lips of those in the know is. . . . . . . Well . . . . . . .  And its an important question with all sorts of ramifications for the future that can't be understated too strongly (I suspect that’s not quite right, but it sounds good).

OK yes I can hear you all typing loudly get on with it you IDIOT so without ado (what is an ado because we often do things without ado but seldom with ado) tonight’s important Question is

Can Zombies Ride Bicycles. . . . . . . .  

Well I appear to have written more than enough on this subject tonight so I feel it will be better to return to it in . . . .  Can Zombies Ride Bicycles. . . . . . . . (PART 2). . .  Where the key points will be discussed, so if you have a point of view or have seen Zombies riding bicycles this is your chance to get involved. . . . 

Mrs Ghost Writer and a Huddle of Doctors

We went off to the hospital this afternoon to see Mrs Ghost Writer and we set off early really early because at present parking at the hospital in the afternoon is next to almost impossible at certain times of day. They also have some sort of new parking system in place that folk don’t understand including us as the car park we were in appears not to have the new system in place leading to a mass of folk walking about like Zombies looking for the holy grail. Anyway Mrs Ghost Writer is a bit battered from her op due to the added complexities of previous operations but is recovering and looking forward to escaping, hopefully tomorrow.

 It was all a bit mad visiting today as several of the patients were trying to charge up ipads, kindles and various phones, but for reasons I really don’t know about they appear to managed to get all their chargers mixed up so half of them were complaining that their device was not working. Add to this the added factor that Mrs Ghost Writer is in a corner with a very strange mad little old lady next to her who shouts out in pain a lot, but it appears only when there are visitors or a passing doctor about. And who has mastered the ability to only get half way to the toilet before something really horrible happens, something so horrible I will not mention it here . . . . . No it is truly horrible.

Anyway as you may guess Mrs Ghost Writer is keen to get out as fast as possible which should happen tomorrow all being well, but just in case she is trying to talk some of the patients into digging a tunnel like in the old days when folk would be locked up in the Iron Lung as punishment if they were naughty.  In order to help persuade the patients to assist I drew a picture of a Huddle of Doctors lurking round the corner with sharp pointy things; no one likes to see a Huddle of Doctors at the best of times so when they are all holding sharp pointy stuff . . . . . .  Well if anything will encourage folk to dig tunnels then that should do it……..

Liberties of London, a small Japanese Sheepdog and Zombies from the Wizard of Oz....

Sundays as I have said before have been very quiet in cyberspace, however this can be good and bad depending on how you think of cyberspace. If you see it as a party in a large hall full of interesting folk and you turn up and find they are all at home and the only person to speak too is a small Japanese sheepdog who has had a bad day and is rambling on about lions, tin robots and straw men. Having first lost his barrel of brandy then the sheep refusing to cooperate, that are now all outside with protest banners saying We Prefer Welsh Sheepdogs; Well then Sunday is not a good day to be wandering about in cyberspace. But if you think of cyberspace as a big store like Harrods or Liberties of London and you have turned up and it is entirely empty except for say a little old lady who is testing umbrellas by stabbing at manikins with them and shouting don’t you come round here with your furry gingerbread penguin ONESIE ASKING if I have seen the Zombie from the Wizard of Oz . . .(sorry distracted a bit there), then Sundays are a great day. Where you can run up and down the aisles doing things like drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa or sending slinky’s  up and down in the lifts to confuse them. Or making Lemon Bon Bon sweet circles so that on Monday morning the staff will assume the store has been visited by aliens, until they see the moustache on the Mona Lisa, then they will blame me…….. They did last time……..

So what did I do today well I re-potted a palm, that’s the plant not the part of someone’s hand; I have worked out that the Ghost Writers car has a hydraulic problem so may not need a new clutch; I dug a small hole and I defrosted a small freezer. OOOoooooo and I ate a pork pie . . . . . . YUM

I also discovered an ancient wooden monument designed to point at the moon in the early evening, I have not worked out what the exact significance of this monument was in the past, although I have reason to believe it was to do with harnessing the power of electricity from lightning strikes which was then used to light flares for the various Micro Gods of our ancestors, ancestors such as little old ladies testing umbrellas who would navigate using the light of the flares to avoid Zombies in ruby red slippers out walking their dog Toto, a small Japanese sheepdog that has lost its sheep somewhere on the notorious Curdsand Way.     

.

Pies and the Death of a Small Mouse

Hello yes I am back to write my diary and keep you all up to date with stuff. Well what can I say all is quiet AGAIN, not exactly what you want to hear but sadly this is what is happening. As I have said many times before in this diary, it is a diary and well if you write a diary you have to tell it like it is, not add small embellishments to liven it up . . . . . OK yes I do that a bit, but only a bit, and it would be seriously bad form to add more aliens that we actually see. Luckily I never do, as Mr Jones is the alien hunter, and as a serious alien hunter he sees them almost every other day . . . . but he is a trustworthy alien hunter and who could possibly disbelieve a fanatical alien hunter convinced that all the major world governments have a global conspiracy theory to keep us all in the dark, and he is so dedicated that he does this in the nude even in winter. Anyway I don’t have time to worry about aliens because I need to be on red alert for Zombies, cunning little beasts that they are……

Why did the clairvoyant cross the road?

To get to the other side.

HAH HAH HA HAH hah ah hahah hah ah hahah hah ha hah ah ah ha ha ha hah ha ha ha ha  

Ok yes what have I been up too, well yesterday we were working all out to save a tiny mouse that one of the cats had caught although they both refused to own up to this. It did rally round (that’s recovery a bit not drive a car at speed through loads of mud) but despite apple and some seeds it died last night so was buried this morning. . . . . Flipper the Mouse would have been proud of us.

Last night was Mr Kris’s birthday party sort of meal so we all ate pies, roast potatoes, peas carrots cheesecake, meringue cream and cakes and other stuff; and as there is some left over guess what’s for tea (that’s northern for dinner), YUM.

This morning we set off to one of the local craft fairs with Mrs E but it turned out to be fifty years late (that’s the craft fair not us) or some sort of strange time warp thing must have happened because all the stuff looked a bit like it was made by granny in 1948. After efforts to look like we did not wish to escape we drank a cup of tea and sneaked out and vanished off for a chat and a drink with friends and Mrs E headed off. We decided not to go to the other craft fair just in case, after all there are only so many post war knitted Santa’s and gloves a chap can cope with in one day.

Luckily however the day has ended with another seriously cool looking sunset and I will soon being eating loads of pie and cheesecake and all the Zombie defence systems are fully operational so I can chill (that’s relax not get cold).   

The Theory of Nothing and its use in avoiding Zombies, Cardboard Art and three potatoes

I am here again today even though I have almost entirely done nothing, yes Ok I cant actually entirely do nothing partly because the human body has to do something or it would fall over dead and in doing so mean it has done something although it would find it hard to write about in afterwards. And in science the concept of nothing is rather difficult because even an empty space entirely emptied of air and any loose atoms floating about is still an empty space and so has substance (although not a lot).

It may be useful to know that if you are trapped into a corner by Zombies which quite frankly should not happen, they are after all a little slow and not the brightest sparks in the bicycle shed. Yes another old saying from the days of bicycles, rather popular also in China in the late seventies for reasons plainly obvious to a historian of world bicycles. AH DAMN distracted again………

Anyway as I was saying if you are trapped in a corner by Zombies don’t panic firmly tell them to SIT and then explain that as homework they need to tell you all about nothing and how the universe started from a point of nothing so small that it’s tiny. This is a hard thing for a Zombie to understand and while they ponder this and look at one another in a slight panic hoping one of the others might stick their hand up to answer you calmly walk away and tell them they must write nothing one hundred times until it sinks in and they get the point (that’s the tiny point that started all the problems involved with the start of the universe).

OK  yes MMMMmmmmmm today; as I said I did not do a lot but I did buy cheese, eat a bacon butty and posted a letter, carried three large potatoes and did not look at the fish. I then drank tea, ate some cheese in a roll, drank some more tea and looked out the window, the last time I did that the Sparrow Hawk ate a Robin so it was a bit of a worry although this time it was OK (not for the Robin).

I then when to the hospital that Mr M was in because he got very friendly with a Mr P and I said I would go and see Mr P again to make sure he was OK, which he is. Mr P went home for a day this week for a trial run, but although his house is looking good the council have managed to ensure he has no hot water so it is being fixed and he hopes to go home at the end of next week all being well.

I then returned home and have done a tiny bit of cardboard arty stuff for the grand master plan, a plan that consists of almost entirely nothing………….

Scratch and lick Christmas Cards, Hieroglyphics and a Sparrow Hawk

The most observant of you will have noticed that I did not write a diary post yesterday as I had been busy and was tired, but the drawback to this is that I can’t now remember what I did. This is one of the reasons I started this diary in the first place so that I could keep track of what I have done.  I do know that one of the ways to remember stuff is to put it all into a journey or story with images and associations with strange little things, but my story has got rather long

It may well have been yesterday that I was attempting to teach hieroglyphics to small children as part of the Zombie defence classes.  This is a useful skill as Zombies can just about read hieroglyphics (although not spell it) as they are taught this by their Mummies HAH HAH HAHH HAH H HHAH HA HAH HA HAH HAhha ha ha ha ha ha ha hahah ah ah aha hah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ah. Just to prove a point while talking about Hieroglyphics I forgot to mention that a couple of days ago while looking out of the window at a small Robin eating seed, a Sparrow Hawk swooped down and grabbed it and flew off with it, nature is rotten sometimes.

Anyway today involved a trip to Montgomery, swapping a packet of soap powder for a packet of soap powder of the same type, moving some small sticks, and picking up three blue bags and then putting three blue bags down again and putting some recycling into a recycling skip. I will not elaborate on any of this in any great detail because it would scare off the very nice Steven Spielberg who to the best of my knowledge has never shown any inclination to make a film involving the swapping of soap powder. Mind you this is just the kind of small detail that aliens would show great interest in  as it is a clear sign of intelligent life rather that the dog eat dog lifestyle of nature in the raw, or should I say Sparrow Hawk eat Robin.  If I was to draw a Sparrow Hawk on some of those rather boring Robin Christmas cards and add a bit of tomato ketchup for effect, I could send them to friends for Christmas. They would be like those scratch and sniff cards or in this case scratch and lick . . . . . . .WELL COOL . . . . .

AH mum has just said IDIOT

OOoooooooooo yes it was rather frosty this morning…..

The Demise of the Zombie and Faulty Small Birds

I did my good deed today I put my head down into the sewage system to work out what was going on as I said I would in my moment of rashness yesterday. My first thought was that an enterprising Zombie may have been trying to sneak through some of the outer perimeter Zombie defence systems, but not everyone in the village is convinced that Zombies even exist. Something of a shock really as tiny rural villages in the hills are really the last place Zombies have to lurk about and scare folk, once they are doomed to disbelieve here then their end is nigh. Well I guess that would save me a lot of digging, but all the same . . . .

Of course I blame modern film making techniques with all their fancy computer generated graphics where they are so keen to make it  look real (plastic) that it ruins a good Zombie or Vampire. It maybe OK for that Luke Spywalker and all his infinity and beyond but the scariest monsters in the movies are the old ones using real stuff and a bit of mud and gore. Anyway it’s the thin edge of the wedge because once folk don’t believe in Zombies, Vampires and banshees, the next step is fairies, elves and Santa and garden gnomes consigned to the skip.

AH yes I got distracted it appears the sewer system may be suffering from an inadequate fall in pipe work as far as I can tell, but then I only go down them to search for Zombies and look what has happened to them.

I also attempted to continue making small birds but I was trying something slightly new and it did not entirely work as planned.  Yet another shock, I know I have never tried this idea before but as the greatest maker of cardboard sculpture in the world the discovery that a new idea does not work first time is a serious blow to my street credibility and therefore it is best I do not tell you about it or photograph a faulty small bird . . . . . . . .AH DAMN.

Aliens are from Venus, Zombies are from Popular television shows.

As I said yesterday the Ghost Writer had to go into his office today to do things, he is not happy apparently he has got five more working days till Christmas, it does not sound much to me. He says that there is only eight of nine more Saturdays till Christmas and only about three weeks until Easter eggs start appearing in the shops and the hardiest of folk start queuing up to buy the Boxing day sale bargains.  As someone who makes things out of cardboard boxes, Boxing Day is a good day as in general there are lots of empty boxes about that folk do not want.

The Ghost Writer says he wrote the greatest technical paper ever written about something no one is interested in and then he shouted at some software.  Of course his technical paper is technically not the greatest technical paper ever written as my diary is, although it uses a lot of paper. It is also the dynamic opposite of his technical paper as everyone is interested in my diary, well everyone except the very nice Mr Steven Spielberg, but I now put this down to the fact it is too heavy to pick up these days and he is getting a little older than he was.

To slightly change the subject myself and Mr Jones noticed a bright light in the sky to the west tonight, low on the horizon hovering in the air at dusk.  So it is plainly an alien Venusian Battle craft masquerading as a planet, but we known, they can’t fool us, we have not been turned into Zombies getting excited by folk baking cakes, and things like that in order to win a glass cake stand.

Those Zombies are testing the human population and once enough folk spend the night watching cakes bake, or so called celebrities who keep telling the nice Mr Spielberg I am mad, dancing in circles or the man from the butchers singing the green green grass of home while his dog tap dances; they will make their move (that’s the Zombies not the dancers). Well that’s if the aliens don’t get here first and end up in a battle to the death battle with Zombies while the human race phone up to vote for the fire eating granny from Blackpool or a French ventriloquist oblivious of what is going on outside (that’s the humans not the French ventriloquist) .

AH . . . . . . . DAMN I got all distracted again, this diary is getting a bit erratic. Anyway I got a photograph of the alien battle cruiser with the Steam powered Y Ray telescope as evidence of what is going on.  People don’t believe me without evidence which is quite frankly unbelievable.