The Shape of the Universe and Tea Bags

Now I have been busy, very busy, but not in a constructive way but in a OOooooo the grass needs cutting and those weeds are huge, and I better do that little job tightening up those bolts on that thing over there and paint that bit over there. So basically  just everyday life and the Universe sort of stuff. What this means is the poor old diary is getting neglected again and such a thing will not do. To resolve this I am cheating  . . . . Well sort of cheating and repeating an old post from way back in time. And some of you will have noticed I have mentioned the Universe and Time and plan to go off and have a cup of tea the moment I finish here and that leads us smoothly and efficiently to my old post 

The Shape of the Universe and Tea Bags 

My diary of late has got rather quiet its existence in the parallel media's of cyberspace both showing signs that the great masses have left leaving only a few die hards and my good friends at GCHQ who know that it is better to monitor a friendly face rather than that of an annoyed face, or worse still an angry face. Would you while waiting in the rain at the bus stop in a queue for the bus that is late rather watch the smiling man or the angry man who might see you looking at him, I think the choice is plain always watch the happy man it is safer.

 And so tonight after a quiet day and I mean quiet (although we are off to Big Bill’s Greasy Fur Ball Café tonight for a meal) I have decided to discuss the shape of the universe. As you know only a couple of days ago I mentioned the origin of life and as a result Mr H from the cyber-world asked me if I knew the shape of the universe. Now I know it is not something that most folk know but funnily enough I do, so I thought I could let you all know too. I have sort of mentioned this to Mr H already in reply to his comment because he knew it had to do with tea bags but was getting a bit confused and I forgot to mention the exact shape of the tea bag to him (very sorry Mr H) so I will now clarify it to everyone. I am going for my second Nobel Prize in less that a week. 

 So consider a round teabag (a bit like a squashed flying Saucer) and that you could fold the edge back into the middle to a point known as The Absolute point of Universe, the point where the so called big bang occurred. And you then flattened out the teabag into a teabag shape again you would fundamentally have a teabag with no edges, which is important because the universe can not have edges just a force to hold its shape together (the material of the teabag itself). The tea in the teabag is then split equally between the two sides of the teabag either side of The Absolute Point of Universe a point so small not even an electron can get through it, this tea is the substance of the universe itself planets, stars and the like, and one side represents matter the other Antimatter. The fabric of the teabag where it is squashed together can therefore sometimes get small holes worn in it due to the forces generated and these are called Black Holes where the matter falls into the antimatter.

Of course the sort of flying saucer shape is created by the spin of the universe where material is thrown out along the line of centrifugal effect; however the one thing that can ruin a good universe is a huge kettle of hot water which destroys many of the forces that hold it together. And this can be made much worse by God squeezing the teabag against the side of his mug turning everything we know and understand into a soggy shapeless mass.

I hope next time you are asked what is the Shape of the Universe you will all say ………..AH FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK THAT BECAUSE. . . . . . . .

Well this is an old post so anyone who claims they have solved the shape of the Universe and claims it looks like a teabag is probably guilty of plagiarism and I will therefore demand they hand over the noble prize pronto or else. 

Right time for that cup of tea. . . . 

A rather boring day for the readers of my Diary . . . Sorry.

You are probably thinking . . . . . Hang On this diary thing . . . . Back in the past loads of stuff happened and now it’s dead boring . . . .  Well that is a bit true; it is not the diary it used to be. Part of the reason at present is my continued work on Shed Two (My workshop) and the reason I am working away on that a great deal is due to the weather. It has been lovely over the last few days. Lovely to the point where our daughter phoned us up from her home just a couple of miles away on the Welsh side of the border to say how horrid the rain was. At the time we were sitting outside in the sun drinking tea and chilling. A short break from shed work.

I will admit I did fire up the old weather machine on the off chance it might finally do something useful and not cause hurricanes again. So maybe it might just be doing what it was always meant to do, make it sunny.   

Anyway shed two slowly develops. One aspect of designing and building buildings without any design whatsoever is things can develop in ways that you never thought they might. I do wonder if going back in time folk just built stuff and the key point of any good building was it did not fall down. It does mean they can become quite interesting as you ponder ways to resolve an issue that you had not thought about until three quarters of the roof is finished. And I think Shed Two will be all the better for all the little changes I keep making in order to make it structurally sound and practical in a quirky sort of way. I will then claim I am a Master Builder in the medieval tradition of Master Builders.

There have been a lot of butterflies about lately I suspect that is a good sign. I am not good on butterflies, but I did see a small blue one and a large yellow one earlier as well as the white ones and brownish ones.  . . . My knowledge of plants is a bit like my knowledge of butterflies by the way. . . . . .

Right that’s it . . . . I suspect you are now thinking Well that was rubbish. But it’s a diary so Poo . . . .  (again) . . .

I sometimes draw beasts seen in the garden

but do use a bit of artistic license so no one knows what they are

Including me

Listening to Wooden Poles and Phoning Home (sort of)

Just in case anyone is wondering why there is a picture of a Zombie

AH I DONT KNOW . . . I sort of drew a Zombie

Sorry about that

Well today I did a bit of painting making the new House Sign look posh, although it looked rather posh anyway so I am making it a bit posher.  It did involve having to go out and buy some paint as the paints I had lurking about in the garage were not only rather old but were not the right colours.  The trip was uneventful except for one small thing that left me pondering, so I thought I know that is a good little curiosity of a thing to mention on my blog.  I think I can not be the only person who thinks Ooooooooo Phew that will make my blog more interesting, when they see something slightly odd.

So I can hear you type do tell us of this curious thing which you have told is curious but then gibber about for ages before getting to the point. So I will get to the point it was a man listening to a pole . . . . Exactly what is all that about. To give you slightly more detail in was a man in a orange day glow jacket using some sort of stick looking listening device, listening to a wooden telegraph pole or maybe it was power, I cant remember now but the poles are about the same size.  Now I have seen folk listening to the ground with purpose made listening sticks it is a common way to hear water leaks underground, but poles with overhead cables. Maybe it some sort of new magic trick being used by those folk at GCHQ who are listening to wooden poles and they can hear every word we say type or even think. I mean its magic so who can tell. But it was a first for me I might at some point Google it and see if it has a rational reason behind it, the only one I could think of and which is sadly very very boring (no pun intended) is they might be listening for Death-Watch Beetle. Those little critters love a piece of wood and I have a feeling it is about this time of year they start all that clicking to their mates.

I know that was far too rational for this blog and therefore I have dismissed that idea as total lunacy. I suspect the truth will turn out to be an Alien trying to Phone home. Aliens have been convinced they can phone home ever since that Steven Spielberg put the thought in their minds. And we all know that it is a futile thing to do; and listening to the post is just going to make you a laughing stock once I put the video on YouTube, so all his mates back on Pluto can see it.     

A day in the life of a Blogger (sort of) and the curious tale of some chaffinches

Hello I thought it is some time since I did a proper post with real information in it and so today while I am sat down with a cup of tea I decided it was time to correct my recent lack of blogging in the world of blogging. Firstly it is very definitely spring like today with the sun shining the birds twittering and plants just about to pop into life.  The moles seem to have settled a bit, because for reasons I don’t know it has been a great winter for moles there seems to be loads of them everywhere. When I say everywhere I refer to mainly underground, I have not yet seen a flying mole. And while on the subject matter of things I don’t know I am also very curious to know why we seem to have more than our fair share of one legged chaffinches turning up at the bird table, there were three of four of them there today. It’s turning into a sort of pirates convention for chaffinches, although only male chaffinches so it is all a bit odd.  Ooooo and we have a pet pheasant, hopefully once he trusts me completely, (lets face it folk have been shooting at him for months) I will be able to teach him tricks like high wire walking and juggling chainsaws (small ones).

The plan to move the living room to what was the dining room is almost entirely complete at last with almost everything new including the wiring and the floor the walls and ceiling and lights and other stuff. . .  And it has only taken absolutely ages to do, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now we get to turn the living room into the dinning room. . . . I know it sounds a bit mad but it’s a master plan for the house, we need master plans, sort of.

I have also noticed the world of blogging is very quiet at present and I have put this down to the fact I have not posted many posts lately and everyone has gone off to do other stuff but I am back now so it OK again.

Oooooo I saw a chicken on the road this morning. . . . Sadly it did not make it to the other side. . . .  Which is interesting because I have mentioned a chicken that did not get to the other side in my forthcoming A to Z blogging challenge of Victorian Inventors (the letter A).    

Further Shock News From Brazilian World Cup

After the shock news the other day of Germany’s disqualification for playing an Android, the world of football today has been turned upside down yet again by the news that Germany has won its appeal. It has been decided at the highest level that the rules do not say that players must be human and so Germany have been reinstated.  But shortly after that news was announced at a press conference in Brazil early this morning, further new conferences were called that have rocked the world of international football further.

Shortly after Germany were reinstated America announced that their first true international Soccer star, striker Dell Drone was in fact entirely made of carbon fibre and operated by Nano-technology designed by NASA. This was closely followed by the news that Italy’s Fiato Florentine was a Fashion Mannequin with Ferrari built mechanics.  Then Japan admitted that their entire international woman’s football team are Androids.

Even here in Britain, England has confessed that the last full member of the England Football Supports Club Mr Tim (the Spectrum) Sinclair is in fact a modified Reliant Robin. . . . . Come on Tim. . . .

Later when interviewed at his home Roy of the Rovers, one of the last living members of England’s 1966 squad said. . . . . . . Its disgusting they are all a bunch of big girls Blouses, that Tommy Dorsey would be turning in his grave. . . . . . Call those football boots they are rubbish. . . . . . Here I met that Diana Dors once . . . . . didn’t she marry that Benny Dorm bloke. . . . . . . . .

S is for Soaring in Silent Skies

Indeed S is for Silently Soaring in the Spring Skies of Shropshire . . . . . . . .I know I appear to be working my way madly thought the A to Z again for no reason whatsoever. . . . . Partly because no one else is and I am just a rebel at heart. And it also sort of shows that even when things go entirely wrong there is always a way to find that elusive Letter of the alphabet. 

Now you are thinking what  went wrong . . . . . .Well last night when I sat down to chill and draw a quick picture for today I thought  . . . . The letter S . . . I can draw Superman so I did, but it sort of turned into a chap with a glider instead. No I dont know why this stuff happens either, part of the problem is using a ballpoint pen, it is (as I have said before) all or nothing as you can't undo a line once drawn, but I rather like that. 

The thing is once you have drawn a man with a glider you need to think S words  and post the picture like it was meant all along where folk go. . . . . well thats clever . . . . . . Although it is advisable not to say its all a bit of a mistake . . . . . .AH DAMN I may have just told you now.

N is for Nonsense, Newts and the Northwest Passage (a history lesson about Great British explorers)

A tale of a Great British explorer, and What makes us Brits Great.

Many Moons ago . . . . . .

Captain Nigel Nash had long planned to sail his ship the Nautilus to Nepal in his search for the fabled Northwest Passage to Norway. Then luckily for him one of the New Nouveau riche, a Naturalist called Sir Napier Winky Knapsack. . . (The inventor of the Knapsack) heard of his plans.  Sir Napier Winky Knapsack said he was prepared to finance the intrepid journey, but he wanted to search for the famous and incredibly rare Nepalese Nocturnal Nodding Newt (no not like nodding dogs in your car).

The journey was long and fraught with numerous nasty obstacles along the way of which we will not talk now, or we will be here till the cows came home (a silly saying, as they come home every day)…. 

As they sailed into Nepal much to the surprise of almost everyone not the least of which is my geography teacher? They cheered and set about organising the long trek into the mountains to hunt for the incredibly rare Nepalese Nocturnal Nodding Newts which are blind and live in caves. This proved difficult as there was talk of a tribe of cannibals called the Nip Nip tribe. However the good news was the the Nip Nip tribe hated the unnatural and in their opinion Chemical laden Nasty Junk Food of Western man, so all that was needed was a bottle of Cola  and a Big Mac in a polystyrene carton about your person and they would see you as contaminated meat, and not fit for human consumption.

With the help of the much friendlier Nap Nap tribe they set off up into the mountains. It was an uneventful trip full of snow,  Yeti’s, crevasses, rock slides and angry mountain goats, a few deaths and the amputation of several fingers and toes.  But they reached their destination unscathed (well a bit unscathed). . . . . . As they surveyed the scene they were surrounded by the famous Nip Nip tribe, but Captain Nigel Nash and his men waved Big Macs and bottles of cola, taking big swigs and burping loudly. The Nip Nip looked appalled and were about to leave when the Naturalist Sir Napier Winky Knapsack asked a Nap Nap translator to give the Nip Nip the following message. . . . . . .

I am a Naturalist called Sir Napier Winky Knapsack I am looking for the very rare Blind Nepalese Nocturnal Nodding Newt that lives in the caves. I wish to return to Britain with many Breeding pairs to save the species for mankind. Can you help me meet some

However the Nap Nap sort of got the translation wrong and what the cannibals of the Nip Nip tribe thought Sir Napier Winky Knapsack said was the following

I am Sir Napier Winky Knapsack, Completely organic; I have lived in the caves of Britain eating Pears and Bread and the occasional newt. I have spent all my life on a natural diet. I would like to come with you so you can eat some of me.

Of course the Nip Nip tribe were very pleased and cheered and led Sir Napier Winky Knapsack up into the high mountains and he was never seen again.  Captain Nigel Nash waited a few days but the crew ran out of coke and burgers and so returned to their ship to continue the hunt for the fabled Northwest Passage to Norway, which they never found although they did discover NotFound Land.

On their return to Britain many folk asked Captain Nigel Nash about the Naturalist Sir Napier Winky Knapsack, which after a time started to annoy him and so he took to telling folk. . . . . . . . . Well a nod is as good as a winky to a blind Newt

A useful theory for dull parties and queues

I have been absent as a cyberspace diarist for a few days and there are many reasons for this, one of the main ones being I am a rubbish diarist and no one is remotely interested in what I say. I guess there is a possibility some of you might be saying . . . . .  NO NO its not true, well not entirely true, sort of. . . . . . . . .  But I have tested this idea on the cats and have read them various entries about Banshees, Mice, Zombies, Steam Powered Ducks and the origin of the entire universe. And guess what not a glimmer of interest in any of it.  Again some of you will say . . . . . . NO NO it just that cats don’t really like stuff like mice or Lemmings . . . . .  Which is clearly untrue, however I will not let two bored cats destroy the hopes and dreams of a diarist with a very long diary, who is convinced that £245.33p is a fair price for the very nice Steven Spielberg to pay for the film rights to volume one which seems like ages ago now. . . Phew time does fly….

So in order to attract the attention of the masses again I thought, what we need is a good theory about something; everyone loves a good theory about universal stuff bearing in mind the universe is where we all are, milling about in it, and prodding sticks at it in a random fashion.

So this is it a theory about life on planets . . . . . . . You see it is very clear that life on Earth started as a tiny cell based thing milling about in the sea or a hot pool, although at that time it did not prod sticks at things as it did not have hands. Then over millions of year’s life got larger and larger until we reached the dinosaurs who were really big, yes ok there were small ones but that is not the point the biggest were big, really big. 

Something happened that then destroyed all the big ones and life forms got smaller again until life recovered and things got bigger, but not as big as the dinosaurs, but there were some huge mammals and birds. But then man turned up and as sure as frogs are frogs all the big stuff vanished, and even as I type the not so big stuff is also on the route to oblivion. In fact I think we can say as we get closer to the end of the world life on Earth will get smaller until it becomes as small as it started. Man is not that small so it does mean once man is the largest critter on the planet we are doomed. Just look at Mars they are hopeful of finding tiny single celled life on Mars, which is not the beginnings of life on Mars but the End, as Mars once had a good thick atmosphere and back in the day was covered in very large beasts until some smart arse critter arrived and said  . . . . . Hay guys Look I discovered this stuff called Technology. . . . . That is the point in the life cycle of a planet where all the really big creatures vanish and it all starts getting smaller until the beasts get so small they don’t have arms and technology without an arm or nice clean shirt is like having a car with no fuel, or Father Christmas in a Coven.   

The creeping reality of Rob Z Tobor and other uneventful events of no consequence

In the last couple of days I have been busy, but not busy doing exciting things just busy doing the things that folk generally do to keep busy.  You know the sort of things.

Attacking a large beast that has eaten the local wild Aardvark, with a pointy stick deep in the dark of the woods.

Hidden a huge pile of rare Italian renaissance manuscripts in order to avoid major historical conflicts with the Pope, as they reveal an early religious war between the church and Aliens,  involving treacle toffee. AH hang on maybe I was not meant to say that…..

Talked the Lemmings of Petrograd out of an out and out attack on Mr Jones the Alien hunter, who has yet again disturbed them as he ran through their home naked pursued by the police and one of Freddie’s ferrets

Vanished off to watch at least half a million starlings as they settle into a nearby village and poo on everything.

Washed our car after it got covered in the poo of a huge number of starlings.

Chopped off one side of an apple tree in order to stop it falling over

Carried books

Played ancient African drum rhythms to the Micro Gods of nice weather

Fixed a fountain

Pointed at many things.

So there you have it (dead boring), it has hardly been the sort of days that are going to improve my chances of the very nice Steven Spielberg showing any interest in the film rights and as I am often told by his lawyer . . . .O NO its you again please go away. The little scally wags that they are (I know they don’t mean it).

Anyway in other news my design for the MK3 Mechanical Spy Bird has been approved by the Canadian Intelligence Agency (the other and slightly less well known CIA) and they are so keen they have asked if they could print the image and hang it in the main office where they sit and ponder things. They say it will help them concentrate and stop them slipping over the edge into the world of ludicrous mad ideas that are entirely crack pot; the fine line apparently between madness and genius.  

It is nice to know however, that the fine line between reality and cyberspace has got just a little greyer than it was as my work filters into the real world in far away places, and if Mr ESB prints any Rob based clothing in the heart of Texas (sorry that’s the heights of Texas) then before you know it I will be standing next to you in a queue complaining about the weather and smiling clutching a rather well made pointy stick.

Ooooo finally I am creating a slightly rushed A to Z of Zombie based drawings of erratic quality and was wondering (assuming I get them finished in time if anyone else would like to use them, It is useful to have a picture for each letter and I am not going to sue folk for copywriter infringement, as they are all rubbish. 

The Ghost Writer, the petition to save Powys Citizens Advice Bureau and a man on the phone.

The Ghost Writer was in his place of work yesterday as he had to move the server, he hates moving this as it must be one of the last of the old NT4 servers working away doing its bit on the front line in Britain. But as the Ghost Writer has said loads of times . . . . . . A cat dropped from a great height can’t catch mice until it lands on the ground. . . . . . He insists it is one of those strange saying that folk use all the time although I cant think of anyone else who says it.  Anyway he set off earlier than he needed too because the weather was wet seriously wet. Us Brits are good at complaining about the weather, but just for once we have good reason too as it is rare to see so much flooding for this long. 

As the Ghost Writer wandered into his office in his usual chirpy fashion (OK his normal grumpy self) there was a quiet pause and folk looked at him. As it happens he has this effect a lot when he walks into places I think it’s his ramshackle dishevelled image and bits of stuff falling off him that does it;  on this occasion though it was due to news that had been received. You see the Ghost Writer works for a charity and the core funding of this charity comes from Powys County Council who are trying or need to save 20 million pounds so one of the things they have decided is to stop funding charities, well the one the Ghost Writer works for anyway. It will not save a lot of money about one hundred thousand pounds, but the Ghost Writer is a cynical as well as grumpy chap and says he suspects that the council will target the folk with the least voices so the likes of folk in need of help, disabled and homeless and the like first . . . . .  He may be wrong though and they might make all the directors and managers redundant at the council instead. . . . . . . . Hang on what was that I saw . . . . . . . . . . . . . OOooooooooo look it’s a flying pig.

Interestingly as a change of subject I answered the phone this morning and spoke to a very nice man from India who said that someone at our house had been in an accident in the last three years and was entitled to loads of compensation from the Ministry of Justice. He seemed like a nice chap and I was not in a rush to rush off anywhere so I had a long chat; however he started to get a bit annoyed because I was not responding correctly to his questions, and in the end accused me of wasting his time and then he hung up which was rather rude. 

It has been raining again today and it is due to rain tomorrow followed by heavy rain on Saturday. Anyway in order to tie in my drawing all I can say is I feel sorry for any fire breathing dragons at present, it is just not the weather to help them one bit.

 For those that are interested below is an online petition for people to sign that will help the Ghost Writers cause in gaining support for the Charity he works for . . . Powys Citizens Advice Bureau . . . . . .  Although a national organisation each bureau is very dependent on local funding for core bureau funding. Without the core funding all the other projects it supports can not exist. 

Help Save 

Powys Citizens Advice Bureau 

The shape of hospital cardboard and the face of Halloween and other stuff

The Big Storm has vanished off into Europe although there is little news of it now here in the UK, I feel over here is was a bit over hyped and so has vanished off the national news already. However my mind was focused on the more worrying thought of the dentist when I woke up this morning. Which was made even more scary by the news when we arrived at the dentist that our trusty family dentist of almost thirty five years has retired and run off. This was not welcome news and we did point out that turning up to see your faithful trusted dentist is one thing, but to arrive and be told Oooooo he has run off you will be see a totally new chap is as the old saying goes NOT CRICKET. Yes it is one of those saying again that makes no sense as it is plainly clear cricket and the dentist are not the same thing, even if both involve bats and drills.

I have to say my computers spell checker is very annoying tonight as it keeps informing me that my use of punctuation and comprehension is quite frankly rubbish, I have tried to point out that in fact this is part of the character of my diary, but it does not seen to comprehend that concept (a bit ironic if you ask me . . . .AH you did not).

This afternoon we ventured back into town to see Mr M who was looking a bit weaker today and was tired. He had a selection of cardboard things which as we know allow patients to do things like wee, poo and be sick in, or throw at seagulls should they venture in. So to cheer Mr M up I drew a whole selection of Halloween characters on these, as it happens the pee pots make brilliant heads and you can draw a smiley face on one side and a growling face on the other. I do have one useful tip to anyone else planning on doing this to cheer folk up in hospital, it is best to check all the various cardboard items before you turn them upside down to draw on them. . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN.

All our trips out today have been conducted in a very very hot car, you see dad said that we need to dry out the inside of the car after yesterdays leaking sun roof incident in order to stop the car windscreen steaming up with condensation.  The car does have a very good heater and the car is almost dry again but it was hot in there for a while . . . . .PHEW.

As you can tell I am now home again and need to go and draw a quick picture for tonight’s diary entry, I will give myself half an hour and see what I come up with as a little challenge.

PHEW . . . . . . . . . .DONE

More events of unimportance

I have been rather lazy today, although this morning I did go and see the doc who reckons I am still sane but my joints are rubbish and tells me I will never run the 100 metres in less that 10 seconds ever again which is good news. Then my plans to go outside were sort of scuppered by drizzle and a grey sky, which is quite a contrast to last night when the sky here was crystal clear for the Meteor shower. It was very impressive although shouting there’s one does not work because it takes too long to say even if you try and say it very very fast or just say T O or even just T. Shouting just T is not a good idea either as voices in the dark started shouting For good sake get him a cup of Tea we are trying to sleep. . . .  

So back to today, I attached a new light fitting to the ceiling in the end in order to be productive and then I decided to use the computer to tweak my artists impression of a meteor shower. Mr Jones said he did not watch the meteor shower as it was in fact a cunning distraction tactic used by aliens to distract the public and that we need to watch The Day of the Triffids, I did a rather good re-enactment of that film once so I can understand his point.

Anyway I have some arty things I need to do so I may vanish off now and do the arty things of which I am sort of briefly passing over in a non descriptive veil of vagueness in order to imply mystery and excitement. It is an interesting fact that us humans always think that the thing we cant see or get too or have is far more interesting and exciting than they really are, although in this particular case that is not true as it is far more interesting and exciting than you think it is (I think).

Ooooo just as a small passing point I dreamt we had twelve cats last night; I know this because I woke up thinking this lot is going to cost a fortune to feed. I just hope Zombie defence systems work on cats although dad says they don’t and I will probably turn into a Zombie Cat and eat the brains of small rodents……..  

The Stuff of Summer

What a lovely day it really was summer here today, a whole day of summer may not seem a great deal to some of you but to us in the UK that is about one day more than we got last year. There is even rumour that tomorrow may be summer too, however Monday which is a bank holiday in the UK (for some) is rumoured to be wet with loads of rain attacking us from the West. I plan to draw Blinkanditsgon the Micro God of British Summer outside while I eat my tea tonight in the setting sun, let’s face it we need to make the most of it while we can. And I need to remind myself of what the sun looks like to draw a suitable image.

I have had a good day of sawing stuff, moving stuff, eating stuff, poking sticks at stuff, throwing stuff at more stuff, shouting stuff, climbing stuff, hiding stuff, loosing stuff, smelling stuff, looking at stuff, kicking stuff, finding the stuff I lost, making stuff with stuff, and I will soon be drawing stuff to add to the stuff I have written about stuff in my diary, which quite frankly is enough stuff for one day.

So I will go now and do more stuff, well draw stuff but as you will only read this after the stuff I am about to do is done I guess in reality there is stuff you don’t need to know. There is loads of stuff I don’t know about stuff which if I did I could tell you about but I don’t so I can’t. . . . . . . . Mum says IDIOT  . . . . . . . She says stuff like that. 

Neil Armstrong and the slightly faulty space suit

Today has not been that exciting, it is as I have said before not easy to do exciting stuff every single day so sometimes it is best to go off on a tangent and look at other events that might be of more interest.  I think it is very likely that all humans have days that are not exciting, I bet Neil Armstrong’s diary was dead exciting as he went to the moon and back but even he would have times when he was not doing exciting things. Writing . . .  

‘got up, had breakfast took the dog (Mandy) for a walk, tried on space suit ate dinner, tried on space suit again went home fed dog, dog wagged tail but chewed hole in space suit . . .’

 It's OK, but let’s face it not the sort of stuff folk want to read, they want to know about the aliens on the moon and the hand to hand combat with huge moon monsters and how he managed to hold his breath for three hours after finding a hole in his space suit made by a dog. I can remember him climbing down those steps onto the moon, and then saying in a slightly hesitant way “That's one small bite for Mandy and one giant hole for man. . . . . . . .AH DAMN”.

So you see I am at the stage in life where dogs are chewing holes in my space suits and have made my moon trip to fight moon monsters even trickier than it was going to be. However to resolve this I have been out to draw a selection of possible monsters I could fight back here on planet Earth that might make interesting reading at some point in the future if all else fails (like the space suit). OK my battle with the fly might not last long unless I can convince dad to make a thirty foot high steam powered hydraulic nano technology controlled  man eating fly with pointy teeth and a buzz ray that can destroy cats (sorry I think I mean destroy buildings).

OK I am off now

Oooooo yes Sooty the cat has taken to sleeping on the ceiling at night but no one knows why, very odd.    

Singing and fighting at the same time is impossible.

The snow lingers still and is going nowhere I really should be out making more things while it is about, but it is getting a crusty surface a result of the sun melting it slightly and then it all refreezing. So making stuff is tricky.

We also had a visit from Miss Tiggy and Mr Chris who came to chat, look at the sun and have a bite to eat, it is after all what us humans do best well that and fighting, but none of us really fancied fighting, we are not really fighting people. Mr Chris is a singer and it is very difficult to sing and fight at the same time; I think this may be to do with the brain as I suspect that the two things use different parts of the brain, and as a chap I can testify that doing two things at the same time is hard enough without trying to use two different parts of the brain at the same time.

This does make you think that maybe in parts of the world that rely on international peacekeeping forces, rather than arm them to the teeth with scary things it would make far more sense to teach them to sing bright and cheery songs and smile loads……

At school Esmeralda has sort of gone a bit erratic; it is not entirely her fault because when you are a part bionic person and rely on steam powered parts in this weather, antifreeze is rather useful to keep the bionic parts working. However no one informed Esmeralda that adding the antifreeze to the bionic parts did not involve drinking it, luckily she is made of strong stuff (The Esmeralda parts of Esmeralda not the bionic parts, although they are too), but it is not like Esmeralda to tell everyone “YOU ARE MY BEST MATE YOU ARE” and smile and enjoy maths.

If you are new to my diary and are wondering why Esmeralda is bionic and has loads of missing parts it is because she was partly eaten by the school goat some time back.

Oooooo yes two other things before I go, apparently the postman said he did not see the snow dog until he was reversing and suddenly noticed a huge dog staring at him in his wing mirror which was a bit of a shock. And secondly the birds are starting to eat more and more food and have been plotting ways of raiding the kitchen, I have heard rumour that one of the robins knows a duck who knows a puffin who knows a rabbit.

.

One man and his painted human silhouette . . . .

A mite on the cold side again.  . . . .DAMN

Just at present I feel I am staggering through a barren desert devoid of events and interesting things to write about; yes I know that we have a Pope and horses turning up in convenience foods, and Esmeralda has realigned the steam powered catapult so that the school goat landed in the large DIY store and became deranged from sniffing glue. I say sniffing I should possibly say chewing cans of glue. I don’t recommend letting a goat get deranged in a DIY store full of power tools and no frozen peas, I never even knew a goat could operate a chainsaw, I guess all those hours in the woodwork department have not been entirely wasted.

But the point is in the present state of limbo news and events are thin on the ground, and at this rate I will be telling you about Freddie’s new re-enactment of One man and his Dog, but who in their right mind wants to read about Freddie’s revival of the old show rounding up sheep and getting them into a pen at the bottom of a large field. Although in Freddie’s case he used his two best ferrets and the little old ladies from the Bingo bus and rounded them up into the trolley pen at the bottom of the large Supermarket car park.   

But you really don’t want to hear all about that, and I was a bit distracted anyway because I had painted a human silhouette on the car park near the disabled bays and was doing rather well making a few pounds doing the Richard the Third tourist trail reciting famous lines like “a trolley a trolley my kingdom for a decent trolley that does not squeak and pull to the left” and “Alas poor checkout operative I knew them well”.

AH right where was I OH Yes, the bitter cold long dark winter (ooooo yes “This is the Winter of our discounted Tent . . . 50% off”)  . . . . Sorry distracted again. I was saying the cold long dark winter where everyone has got their head down and nothing is happening and as a result has left me in a state of crisis with nothing to write about having arrived home late due to the escaped flock of Wildebeest that escaped from the processed food factory and were running towards the bypass holding up all the traffic including the school bus. And these new improved android bus drivers are rubbish, just because class 15AS set fire to Mr Harris the bus driver a couple of times.

Ok that’s it I will not subject you to the verbal equivalent of watching paint dry any longer and I will go and see if I can see that big hawk outside the house again, I was going to take a picture of it for you but in an act of defiance something that Hawks, Popes and Richard the Third are rather good at it flew away.  The pope does this too but Richard the Third takes a more Ostrich approach to defiance than a hawks approach to defiance. As Richard would say himself “An honest tale speeds best, being plainly TOLD BY Rob Z Tobor”

BYE

.

Halloween floods and the Steam Powered Hydraulically Controlled Tyrannosaurus Rex.

There is much despondency on the east coast of the United States as many of the cities and towns are flooded by Hurricane Sandy, surely they could have found a better name for one of the largest hurricanes in recent history than Sandy it lacks a degree of street cred to say the least.  Still in all the gloom and doom we must try and look for small sparks of light within it all, like the stock market opening up in time for Halloween so all those scary bankers will be back making money  . . . . . . .PHEW thank god for that.

And the Trick or Treaters are going to look really good this year as they wade up to your house and splash on your front door, with water mud and slime falling off their little bodies in the blackness of the power cut. I can see that the man eating squid suit will be very popular this year in that part of the world. As it happens I am off tomorrow to advise on matters of scary things for Halloween as I have often been told I am a ******* curse and to go away, something that will no doubt be a bit of an anthem with many folk tomorrow.

It has been a fairly pleasant day here so I have spent much of it pondering the best way to make the most of a nice day, I did consider several options and sort of got it down to a choice of two Option A, and Option B, both of which required a decent amount of time and after much thought I opted for Option C, because I no longer had enough time for Options A or B. Option C was a choice of either Option D, or Option E, or possibly Option F, although Option F would need the full co-operation of at least two people a ferret and I would need to find the Grimble Spin from book one. As it turned out just as I was finalizing things it was time to eat, so that completely confused me. As a final resort I said to mum as one does during the school holidays I’M BORED but she hit he over the head with the Armadillo Toaster from book one and book two I think.

It was at this point I that is suddenly dawned on me; not only have I not done a great deal today but I have also not said what I did do in my diary in the end which was ********** all anyway.

I am sure we still have the life size  Steam powered hydraulically controlled Tyrannosaurus Rex somewhere at the back of the garage maybe I could use that tomorrow to scare the vicar……. 

.

The grinding wheels of progress going round in circles

There I was minding my own business pottering about attempting to draw 5000 legionaries (that’s the Roman ones that marched about in legions) in the margins of my history book. The one I am allowed to write in not the one from the library called ‘The Roman Legions and their place in the Development of the Ice Cream Van’, when I heard a noise. A sort of grinding spinning noise, the sort of noise that a twenty seven foot high mechanical clock might make prior to it going into the full Westminster chime at midday. So I looked up and low and behold what was staring me in the face but the grinding wheels of progress. Well I say progress, but I mean a twenty seven foot high full Westminster chiming clock made by Mr Progress one of the metalwork teachers, which he plans to put in pride of place on the school roof. Well he did until he was told it breaches planning consent.  Not normally a problem but because we are now an academy the headmaster is trying to do things by the book. That is not the book ‘The Roman Legions and their place in the Development of the Ice Cream Van’ because it has very little in it about large clocks. Although the ice cream vans in those days did have grinding wheels much like the clock, and the planning process.

Now being faced, sort of face to face by the grinding wheels of progress (Mr Progress’s name for his clock makes you realize that life ticks by dead quick, OK not dead quick because the clock is losing at least 10 minutes a day. But I realize I need to focus my diary on matters of great importance as the old History teacher said You can either sit and watch the wheels of life turn and go nowhere yourself or be one of the wheels, sadly in an attempt to prove the point the teacher was crushed by a large grinding machine full of cogs and wheels. Proving to all it is much better not to be one of the wheels. It is all this trying to be one of the wheels that has resulted in so many people just going round in circles. The only real advantage I have found so far for going round in circles is that it allows me to write absolutely loads about absolutely very little on days when very little has happened.

We are hoping our strange electrical fault is fixed and the Ghost writer says after a hard day in the office he feels like he has been trampled by a legion of Roman soldiers, then run over by a large object with grinding wheels that strangely sounded just like a large Westminster chiming clock.

And Heavy Harry the Cat  arrears to be not well, apparently my use of the defibrillator did not help although he did leap up and looked very perky for 10 seconds. 

.

.

A Werewolf, a Earthling, the moon and Tiny Tim . . . .

I have been pottering about today in the garden looking for interesting things and doing stuff. I guess with my readership being international it might be best to explain what pottering is because in does not involve making pots, as in a potters wheel or the old tradition of coil pots. It refers to dong things that sort of need doing but in a sort of non urgent way, possibly even getting distracted for a short time to look at cows arguing about tunnels and realizing they have travelled at least three hundred yards in the wrong direction again…..

And I don’t think you can be pottering if you do something that is of no use to man nor beast because that is generally called messing about and I often get the two confused and discover I spent the day messing about when I thought I was pottering. I did remove two wooden posts but not the one with cables attached to the top with 11,000 volts going through them.  Then after a game of Scissors Paper Stone which I seem to loose again I found myself strimming all the grass; WELL that was not fair.

The moon is very bright tonight which can only mean one thing Werewolf’s. They are rather partial to bright moons, and myself and the dog have spent sometime out watching for them, but the true is that things are not idea for Werewolf’s. What with the cows using the moon light to practice wandering about in random and completely unsuspicious way, but looking incredibly suspicious about it while trying to dispose of soil from the tunnel. 

Then of course there is Mr Jones who sees nights like this as perfect for an alien encounter so is running about in the wood with no clothes again with I am an earthling written in permanent marker pen on his chest plus a smiley face which then looks grumpy when he looks down to see where he is going. He has to do this because the woods are full of cow sized holes.

Then there are those damn owls who seem to have been taught that song by the squirrels now so they are sitting on the power lines dancing and singing Tip Toe Through The Tulips, I cant see any self respecting Werewolf joining in with that lot, so we are off. . .

Ooooooo hang on though look at that? . . . . . . . . .. that’s a surprise.

.