Not really Groundhog Day and Ice Cream . . .

(30 . . .)

It's strange how a chaps day can sort of take on the feeling of Groundhog Day. Although it was with different wood 6 years ago and I did actually have the tools and also did some shopping. But apart from that, and eating different food; and several other things, OOOoooooo and I achieved something today which was good. BUT apart from all that my diary entry of six years ago has an uncanny resemblance to today  . . . Although I am seriously older now; back then I was the Young Eccentric Child of Cyberspace, but I probably just grumbled too much and the secret of my old age became known to all.

And I have also discovered today that ice-cream is regarded as a highly processed food and will reduce life expectancy. Unfortunately I have just finished a large bowl of ice cream having put walnuts, chocolate things and maple syrup on the ice cream. On the positive side the nuts are good for me; the maple syrup is the real stuff as is the chocolate. The ice cream was also good quality vanilla ice cream. I do have a theory that as long as you eat real foods not cheap rubbish then you can eat what you like and it is OK. It’s a good theory and serves me well. Plainly you should not get too carried away with eating too much that would not be good.

Right that diary entry from way back for you to read.

Six years ago today

I have not achieved a great deal today, it has been that sort of day I looked at a little job involving some tongue and groove panelling but did not have the things I needed, so sort of waved the various bits about shook my head a lot pointed and said OOOOOO SORRY MADAM IT NEEDS A NEW THERMITECHNIC SCREW ADJUSTER like all good plumbers and then said I WOULD BE BACK TWO WEEKS NEXT THURSDAY. However mum said I was not a plumber I was an IDIOT and sent me out to do things elsewhere, but I knew where here was and I knew where there was but I could not find elsewhere. Despite asking everyone I ran into (I say ran into I was walking and did not make any physical contact) such as the Banshees and the Lemmings of Petrograd, who were playing leap frog ( Lemmings, leap frog . . . . .HAH HAHAHHAHAHH HAH ha hah ah hah ah ahahhah ha ha ha) a few Zombies, a few Cows, a Raven, The Dark Creature of the Undergrowth, Mr Jones, Esmeralda and Freddie. Who have formed a new group called ‘Watching Alien Invasion Tactics’ or WAIT for short. Apparently Mr Jones often chases aliens through the woods shouting WAIT  . . . . . . TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER.

Hang on what was I saying  . . . . . . AH YES elsewhere; when I asked everyone I was looking for elsewhere they would generally scratch their heads ask if I meant here and when I said no they would suggest over there but I was not looking for there I was looking for elsewhere. I spent a lot of time doing that until I worked out I had been here there and everywhere, although not elsewhere.

 You can see how a chaps day can vanish like sand through the fingers of a little old ladies hand when pursuing such a task. Strangely it is the sort of task (searching for elsewhere not pouring sand through fingers) us chaps will do for hours and women tend not too, even for five minutes, although I don’t know why?

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My diary is a lot more rational these days, not like it was back then. . . . . . Sorry about that.

Mmmmmm My feet

The Wicker Man Returns or Harry Potter and the Dark Clouds of Doom (Part two)

Link to PART ONE

As the huge Parents of the baby Zombie Eagle circle over Hogwarts making a terrible noise the baby Eagle is getting more and more agitated and after a very loud burp it suddenly regurgitates a decomposing goats head and then poo’s all over Harry’s desk ruining a whole load of important paperwork.

Ooooooo Yuck says Lily Luna no one told me eagles did that Yuck I hate eagles the smell is terrible I think I’m going to be sick.

Harry opens his window and above he can see two huge and rather angry birds circling and below he can hear the voice of Hagrid as he staggers out of bed still half asleep.

Hello Polly whats up. . . .whats that you say someone has stolen your baby and it has been hidden in hogwards. . . . . hang on I will go and see Harry potter and make sure who ever it is punished.

With that Hagrid vanishes into the building below and Harry and his children hear the footsteps of a large man who is not as fit as he should be making his way as fast as he can up the stairs while muttering about installing an elevator.

Harry’s office door busts open and Hagrid staggers in, out of breath shouting. . . .

Some idiot has stolen the baby Zombie Eagle what sort of fool would do that we need to find it and return it quick. . . . . As Hagrid looks up he sees the baby Eagle sitting on Harry’s desk eating inkpots and trying to swallow the decomposing goats head again.. . . . . . AH its here we need to get it home pronto or its parents will pull the building apart.

Yes Hagrid I quite agree you can do that cant you, I will try and clean the mess up here said Harry

As Hagrid carries the baby Eagle back to the wood Lily Luna looks out of the window and says

I hate Eagles I really hate Eagles they smell.

The following day peace had come to Hogwarts yet again although as we have learnt life in a school full of kids is chaotic enough so when they are wizard kids and the academy is a weird castle in a land full of magic peace is a bit like unicorn teeth or chicken horns, not very likely. So it is not a shock to most of you to learn that as Harry works away in his office while drinking a coffee he is interrupted by his daughter Lily Luna, saying.

I don’t need an eagle or anything like that anymore I have made my own pet now called Wally

Well that is excellent well done and what is Wally

He is Wally the Wicker man

WHAT  . . . . . . .

Yes look and with that Lily Luna pulled am eighteen inch high wicker man from out of the bag she was carrying

PHEW . . . . . said Harry just for a moment I though you were going to tell me it was twenty five feet tall and in the courtyard.

No Daddy I’m only little that would be silly James Sirius and Albus Severus made that one. LOOK IT’S looking at you through the Window.

AAAAuuuuggghhhh said Harry dropping his coffee, I don’t like wicker men we had a bit of a misunderstanding in the past so maybe we could set fire to them a bit.

As Harry moved away from the window where a large pair of eyes were looking at him Wally the Wicker man was biting his leg and trying to set fire to his shoes with a box of matches. Then Hermione busts into the office and says

Dear God Harry have you seen what those kids of yours have made in the courtyard it’s a bloody great wicker man , its apparently called Wiki the Wicker man what kind of stupid name is that

I thought of that name said Lily Luna bursting into tears which in turn really upsets Wally who shouts stuff at Harry and Hermione which Wiki the Wicker man hears and gets all angry about as he rips out the window of the office.   

I THINK THIS MIGHT BE ONE OF THOSE DARK CLOUDS OF DOOM again says Harry hiding under his desk.

TO BE CONTINUED

LINK TO PART THREE

Diaries and other words

So about this so called diary that you have not been writing lately, I can hear you all think. What sort of feeble excuse are you planning to palm us all off with this time with your rubbish pictures and so called paradoxes.  Which looking from our point of view just looked like an excuse not to write anything?

Well I can tell you are not happy since I have stopped writing reams of total rubbish that makes little sense I have noticed that the page views on the blog have plummeted like the Great Mechanical Zombie Bird itself. There I was boasting to the cats that the blog was just a tad fewer than 10,000 pageviews for the month of July and at the present rate it will be back down to a couple of thousand at best in August.  Of course I did mention my concern about the fact I would no longer be covering major world sporting events as my Football  World Cup coverage was very popular (particularly with folk who don't like sport).

Anyway back to the point excuses, I have been busy and I think I have reached that point where I am suffering from writer's block again. I have a feeling this is because I have written loads, 560,000 words not including comments and drawn loads of pictures. In fact last nights picture drawn last night was a right old game and I was far from happy with the result so I am worried I have Artists block now as well. Even the poetry was a bit iffy and bad nonsense poetry is normally dead easy.

So I need a plan something to revamp things in a good way but not an exhausting gosh this is hard work sort of way, something that will make people think Oooooo this is an interesting diary this chap should get that very nice Steven Spielberg to turn this into a film.  Luckily I do think I have a plan one that I hope people will approve of, one which will keep the basic structure of my diary intact so I don’t lose my loyal followers (you know who you are).

So what is this plan I hear you now thinking in a slightly excited way. . . . . . .Well I thought I might introduce more Zombies, Aliens,  Mechanical things, Goats, ferrets, Lemmings, Pointy Sticks and ice cream and do some drawings………

WHAT DID YOU SAY

What you are fed up with    Zombies, Aliens, Mechanical things, Goats, ferrets, Lemmings, Pointy Sticks and ice cream and rubbish drawings done with a ballpoint pen. . . . . . . . .

AH DAMN. . . .

What about a nude alien hunter and a Grumpy Ghost Writer.

O God you lot are hard to please, OK I will add some science and stuff from time to time if you insist and maybe some real news. . . . . . But that’s it. 

Proof of the eccentricity of life in the Country and therefore Alien life by default

I was pondering about what to write about as life ticks by in an almost normal fashion at present. This is good but also rather bad as the very nice Steven Spielberg is hardly likely to rush to the rolling hills of Shropshire to make the film of ordinary life in the county even if we have a few Zombies roaming about and Aliens in the woods pursued by Mr Jones in the nude who is in turn pursued by the police as folk complain that Mr Jones is in the woods naked again.  And then there are the Lemmings of Petrograd, The Dark Creature of the Undergrowth, Esmeralda catapulting the goat in the general direction of the out of town supermarket, Freddie teaching his ferrets to do tricks, and the odd Banshee at night.

So you can see it is hard to find new and interesting stuff to write about although I did think I saw an Alien at the Commonwealth Games last night on the TV running in a race, but he did not really do very well so that can't be right. Unless a virus has afflicted the aliens and they are suffering like they did in the film the War of the Worlds (the old film not the newer rubbish one)

Anyway as I was saying I was pondering that there was nothing to write about when an advert in the local County Times came to my rescue, it is good when stuff like this happens because it shows that I don’t make this stuff up it all really happens out here in the sticks.  You see tomorrow is Tough Harry’s Fun Day in Churchstoke and they have all sorts of things going on, but one particular item caught my eye (no not like catching a ball).

Yes its true there will be DANCING SHEEP. . . . . .WHAT? . . . . . .  I have not seen dancing sheep before and until now did not know that sheep danced. I have no plans to go and see the dancing sheep I am just satisfied that just for once I have hard evidence of the bizarre events of life here, and besides I have a horrible feeling I might just end up disappointed if I go. . . . . . .. . . .

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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. 

Aliens, Computers and Loud Bangs and the Ghost Writer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have a friend, called Mr Jones.

Who is famous for his, scary groans.

And likes to wear, a pointy hat.

While dancing with, the vampire bat.

And in the middle of the night.

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

But at Halloween, he is in the wood

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steven Spielberg, the making of Tinker Tailor Rob Z Spy, and monitoring social media

As my very long term followers will be aware I have had many run ins over the past nearly three years with forces that lurk in the shadows; dark forces that can sneak up on you and suck the brains out of even a fully grown antelope or brown bear, yes we are talking Zombies, Ooooooo no sorry we are talking Spies. Yes those men in the dark designer sunglasses who on a rainy day in Britain stand out like a sore thumb as they stumble about unable to see where they are going. Those of you who remember the Einstein Cube or the Jules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine will know of my many run ins with the CIA, MI6 and various other security forces including the KGB in the past. So I have to say that as the eccentric child of cyberspace using the world of social media to write my diary I must confess that the recent news that certain forces are monitoring the world of social media is not new to me. In fact I feel I may owe you all a bit of an apology for bringing them here in the first place.

If you think about it poor old Charles and his mate Quentin the back room boys at GCHQ, which if you Google tells you their address and telephone number, which is silly (hello chaps) who are monitoring all the chit chat of social media have a terrible job, just think how boring it must be to sit and monitor stuff without ever being allowed to make the odd comment on a Facebook page or follow the occasional blog making witty remarks or say even start your own blog chatting about life and stuff, Zombies and maybe take the cunning disguise of say an Eccentric Child and part time Pirate in the strange twilight world of Cyberspace, lets face it spies, particularly the back room boys will work much better if they are happy in their work, and a bit of interaction with the punters is just the ticket.

Anyway as Charles and his mate Quentin would say themselves if you can’t trust a man with an original portrait of President Putin, (a gift from the Kremlin) hanging on his wall then who can you trust. And as I have said elsewhere tonight when the nice Mr Steven Spielberg makes the film Tinker Tailor Rob Z Spy from my rather popular serialized diaries the security forces will deny everything, well everyone except Quentin and Charles who may be allowed to be extras in a dramatic scene where the hero and his trusty Lemmings confront the arch villain, a man called Moriarty who has accidently run onto the wrong set.   

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

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

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

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

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

A Pink Psychedelic Pigeon Perching on a Pomegranate tree.

Saturday again and for reasons I do not understand we are having retro-weather, or in other words winter has sneaked back which is not nice. I did go outside at one point and looked at the sky and the Zombie Defence Trench but the sky was cold and the zombies have all gone back into hiding because zombies do not like the cold. It appears the only activity today was banshees who do like cold weather, the Lemmings of Petrograd who of course come from Petrograd so a cold day on the English Welsh border is just another average day for them. And then we heard, but did not see a strange bird or at least I assume if was a bird, it made strange noises and Heavy Harry the Cat showed some interest but Heavy Harry the Cat hates the cold and was not going out to investigate. And the chicken tried to do an impression of the strange bird which the chicken says is a Pink Psychedelic Pigeon Perching on a Pomegranate tree.

That reminds me I must go and continue my posts for the grand blogging event, the A to Z challenge thing that starts in April.  So for now that is your lot. I may or may not return…..

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The  YouTube Music Links of Rob Z Tobor

Fighting Snow Zombies, Lemmings and ice bowls

So another day of snow, I was not expecting it to snow today but it did a bit, unfortunately it was still the wrong kind of snow for snowmen and the like so I was not able to do much in fact I appear somehow to achieved very little today, I am getting really good at that lately, I think writing a daily diary has one drawback and that is you spend your day writing your daily diary.  Because of this you then find you have nothing to write about so then not having anything to write about and end up waffling about all sorts of rubbish  . . . . . . .AH . . . . See what I mean.

I am a little worried about the Snow Zombie I really don’t know what he got up to last might but he looks a bit the worse for wear and seems to have been in a fight, I tried asking him but he cant remember; I also noticed he lost the Ghost Writer’s favourite woolly hat and asked him where it was but he says he cant remember. He did say that the last thing he remembers was drinking Russian Vodka out of a green bowl made of ice at a party in the woods that the Banshees were having, banshee’s love a bit of ice cold wind and snow.  And he said he vaguely remembers a drinking competition with the Lemmings of Petrograd and one of them saying Snow Zombies are all manby pamby cowards who run away as soon as the situation gets a bit hot. I did point out to the Snow Zombie that he will run away once it gets hot and he may have misunderstood the Lemmings, and besides we all know that you should never get into a fight with the Lemmings of Petrograd, they are a formidable force who have just the one weakness, they hate anyone called Cliff.

    

Well what else happened  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .AH DAMN . . . . .Nothing . . . Sorry about that I will start to bore you all soon and you will all run away and eat ice cream.

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Stargazing Live, the stability of nature and The Principle of Least Action

It is Wednesday today and School has returned to a state of stability, I know this because the Mathematics teacher showed us Newton’s formulas for the stability of nature, In an ideal world this would result in the entire school being all enthusiastic and leaping about particularly as the BBC Skygazing Live is on the television again tonight after what turned out to be jolly cloudy night last night, where no aliens were seen, and no stars or even the moon. But of course The Lagrangian Formalism (The Principle of Least Action) takes this into account and the result was lots of pupils wondering which class they should be in; and why the physics teacher was sweeping up mud in the playground, apparently it was the caretaker in a similar jumper with a pink reindeer on it, it appears the headmaster gave the same jumper to most of the school staff. . . . . . That is all well and good but if they all look the same how can I tell which lesson I’m in.  

So in a nut shell what I am saying is that Newton’s formulas for the stability of nature will state that my three slices of toast fall on the floor at lunchtime butter side down but the Lagrangian Formalism (The Principle of Least Action) states that by adding some curry and peanut butter to hide the fluff they tasted fine and the school cat will lick the floor clean.

I know I should be writing loads more at present but in keeping with The Principle of Least Action we are at the time of year when the least happens, it is a northern hemisphere thing the further north you get in the winter the less things are happening particularly in quiet rural communities where we keep our heads down until spring appears. As it happens there are signs of life poking out of the ground as things like daffodil’s start to grow and the Lemmings of Petrograd start singing the old songs of home. 

Sorry I stopped to watch the BBC Stargazing Live show so am a little later than planned with the post, I was interacting with The Principle of Least Action in way that shows its overall effect rather well.

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The anomalies of the British class structure, a ferret and a power drill

Sometimes life throws up little things that under normal circumstances you don’t notice, today was such a day as the school slowly arranges things for the forthcoming school trips. There I was with Freddie and his ferret trying to dry out Esmeraldas damp electro-mechanics (it rained today loads) when Young Tarquin,   Octavia, Peaches and Fabien stopped to see how things were going in preparation for the Journey to the Centre of the Earth. I said we have all been supplied with a genuine all plastic mac that folds up to the size of a mouse in case we meet undergrounds waterfalls and the like, and a set of billy cans made of Aluminium including the mug, I hate tin mugs they always get hot burn your lips when you fill them with hot tea.

They were saying they are going on the skiing trip to the Swiss Alps and have been to inspect the luxury air conditioned coach to ensure it is adequate for the trip.  And Octavia’s daddy has insisted on first class cabins on the ferry, so the headmaster has sorted that out.  Peaches has also had a word with her personal ski instructor in San Moritz and he will pop over to help teach the pupils.

We get to walk to the entrance tunnel and have been excused school uniform while on the open road on grounds that we are a scruffy bunch and a bad image for the schools new academy status. Come to think about it I don’t remember seeing when Young Tarquin, Octavia, Peaches and Fabien before we became an academy and I’m sure they are the only ones wearing straw hats with their school uniform, well them and the headmaster and Jasper. Anyway they started to tell Esmeralda that Jasper’s father is sending the family cook on the trip to ensure that the food is up to scratch, which is strange because we said we were taking packets of pork scratching also. They then made the mistake of trying to explain the difference between pork scratching and gourmet cuisine but about half way through the explanation Esmeralda fitted her interchangeable easy clip on power drill attachment, so poor old Tarquin may require a bit of physiotherapy before he ski’s or he is going to go round in circles. Esmeralda goes round in circles at times, but sadly does not have a personal physiotherapist so is dependent on the one at the vet after she attacked the local hospital receptionist who tried to explain she was forth in the list but it might be a few hours before she was seen.  

According to the geography teacher all this class structure will melt away when we reach the centre of the Earth and fame and glory will follow because if there is one thing greater than class its celebrity. Trouble is the geography teacher is stark staring mad although he does sound a bit like the Lemmings of Petrograd at times……

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Olympic mascots, Triffid seed and the Lemmings of Petrograd

Myself and the dog felt it was time to explore the great outdoors today, grab the machete and battle along the route of The Fabled Minor Stream on Inconsequence. It has been some time since we explored the woodland next to it, which leads to the great wood. The Banshees were in good form and said they tried to go to see Esmeralda in hospital but had to leave when all the nurses started to scream and wave their arms about. It is a bit of a puzzle all the arm waving when people scream, obviously Esmeralda did not wave anything about for what are fairy obvious reasons, but dad has assured her she will be just like that six million dollar man although she will be a six million dollar woman, OK steam engine sort off and maybe more twenty quid rather than six million dollars. And she will get six legs…

Look I am distracted again which is not right, me and the dog were looking for strange monsters and creatures unknown to man, we spent ages doing this but having only met the Banshees and The Dark Creature of the Undergrowth who remains dark and in the undergrowth. And of course the Lemmings of Petrograd who are planning to hold an alternative sporting event because apparently a Mr Lord Coe banned them for shouting “Coe, Coe….. Coe Chi Minh” and “What do we want more Steroids when do we want them NOW” then falling about in Hysterics. It would not have been so bad if the Lemmings of Petrograd had not chose to do this as the Olympic flame officially arrived in Britain. It apparently took a lot of effort and bribery to keep it out of the press…..

Yes, Yes, Yes sorry off on a tangent again, all I am saying is that we met nothing new in the wood so we came home defeated, but at home sat on the UPVC double glazing was a strange little creature. We looked in up in our Boys Own Guide to Strange Creatures and could not find it so we have named it ourselves Sunflourious Seedioza Leggious because as far as we can see it appears to be a sunflower seed with legs. The dog says this is the missing link between plants and animals, and possible prove that the Triffid is not just a legend of the past. He was keen to keep the baby Triffid and see if it grows into a huge man eating plant, but mum said NO not after the last time when he brought the baby Loch Ness Monster home and it ate everything in the fridge…. So somewhere outside is a tiny tiny Triffid that will one day grow up to look like an Olympic Mascot, which would be terrible.

What ever happened to Wenlock and Mandeville, the Olympic mascots, they were rubbish. I think they must have been buried under the main stadium, no one even mentions them now.  

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An Oscar from Miss Lily the Award magnet
I don't know how she does it .

Liquorish liquors, lager and Liebfraumilch, the Lap Dancer and the LLama

“Look” said the dog first thing this morning as I lay lazily in my bed. And looking out the window I saw a line of Lemmings; The Lemmings of Petragrad (Lemmingrad) looking in. Yes we have reached L and the lemming were out last night listening to loud Latin music played on lutes, and downing Liquorish Liquors, lager and cheap liebfraumilch  in a lap dancing club. Before landing themselves in trouble with the Law for Lascivious language and lobbing Leaches at the lap dancers and playing Leap Frog in the lavatory.

They were lucky though, because of a loophole in the law which states Lemmings can not be held responsible on a leap year. So I have agreed to mention the largely lost  legend of The Lemming of Petrograd (Lemmingrad) yet again, Like anyone is listening (reading) the lumbering lefty literature of little leaping rodents and there leaders,  Lamenting the long lost days of loyalty and luncheon meat.      

This time round the dog has decided not to wear lipstick, last time it turned into a liability as a lively liberal Labrador kept leering lecherously at him leaving letters about a liaison in the log shed and some lively lust involving licking (YUCK).

After a late breakfast, me and the dog went to the lodge of luminescence by the Lake where the lonely loathsome Lockkeepers ghost lingers, looking like a mad lunatic, and singing lyrically of the Lynx eyed Lyre Bird and the lobster. As it turned out he was quite Likeable, listening to him and his tales of Lilliput and how everyone, (the little Lilliputians)  got eaten by a Llama.

We thought about going to Llanfair and a trip on the light railway to see Auntie Karen but the dog thought we should go to

 Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch 

because no one else on the A to Z trail would. In the end though we went home  and the dog went off to lecture Ladybirds on Life and I got all lethargic and lackadaisical  and thought mmmmmmmmm, I have to think of something like lightning,  right now to make people laugh; sort of Jack the Lad.