Professor Charles Purlieus Humming-Birds Floating Circus of the Bizarre . . . A review?

Due to the writers (me) new career as a blogging poet it has become necessary for him (me) to sell his soul to the devil and accept a bit of advertising and blatant promotion for money in order to make means meet. Yes even the uncompromising humble poet starving in his rural bungalow (me) with a family and two greedy cats as well as more birds and squirrels that you can shake a stick at to feed, has had to swallow his pride and ethics and turn to the darker side of life. Of course it is for all the right reasons, one should never sell ones soul to the devil for the wrong reasons, which would never do. . . I mean just ask most religions and they would entirely agree, none of them ever sold their souls for trivial things like a new church roof or a night of naughtiness with young Daisy in a posh hotel (Ok they might have done that but we all have our moments of weakness).

Anyway today as part of this blogs new darker side of commercialisation we are reviewing the excellent and extremely popular as well as great value for money . . . . . Professor Charles Purlieus Humming-Birds Floating Circus of the Bizarre . . . . . .  A truly excellent day out for all the family, even on a dull and overcast day such as today.

So how was my day at Professor Charles Purlieus Humming-Birds Floating Circus of the Bizarre, well it was entirely entertaining as one would expect with its long list of things to see such as Dora the Mud Wrestler who every day round about three fights four crocodiles at the same time in a pit of muddy water. With a somewhat strange blow by blow commentary by Morris the Mynah Bird who enjoys nothing more than insulting visitors and their dress sense, something visitors seem to relish as they record him for YouTube.

I spent much of the morning in the Museum of human curiosities where I saw the mummified head of Frankenstein’s Monster, the missing foot of Long John Silver, one of Count Draculas teeth, the eye of cyclops, the Invisibles Mans intestines and many other strange things.  The highlight of which however must be getting to ask the worlds most un-identical identical twins questions, well you could not meet two identical twins who were so un-identical and both seem to be convinced the other is an imposter. Well they had me convinced and that is for sure

The pick you own meal from the darkened room of the beasts of the night was very popular indeed, I have never seen so many bat burgers being cooked at once and at a modest £5.45 plus fries I would say it was a bargain.

I was also very impressed with the tap dancing squirrels and the synchronized goats whose ice skating was as good as any I have ever seen.

I could go on and on and often do but Professor Charles Purlieus Humming-Birds Floating Circus of the Bizarre only pay me £2.50 and gave me a free burger and fries so I warned him he only gets the short review for that.  But if you want a memorable day out, one that will rival anything from Gnome Land to The Museum of Clouds then I recommend a visit.

Prices start at £6.37 for adults, dogs cost £4.00 and children £28.75. . . . Apparently Professor Charles Purlieus Humming-Bird is not keen on children as they will learn when they visit the adventure playground with its grumpy Gibbons and Piranha Fish

An April 2015 A to Z Reflection Post about the 2015 A to Z Challenge

It is that time again a time when we all say it is very sad BECAUSE it is all over and what fun we have had when secretly we are all going THANK GOD ITS OVER HAH AH AHAH  HAHHA HAHAH HAH AHH AHAH AH HAHA HA HA HA HA HA. So now it is time to reflect on everything and ponder and write about our reflections in an interesting and analytical way, something to grab the hearts and minds of all the others who have finished the A to Z challenge and who are also secretly going. . . . . .  THANK GOD ITS OVER HAH AH AHAH  HAHHA HAHAH HAH AHH AHAH AH HAHA HA HA HA HA HA. And who are also thinking DAMN I need to write something really interesting that has not been written by all the others who are writing a reflection post.  

Every year I try to write something new something different something unique and this year I have decided to use the Big Dipper or as most folk around the world know them, The Roller-coaster for the descriptive analogy of my progress along the path from A to Z.

Well like the Roller-coaster the A to Z has many ups and downs

It involves much screaming

While we are rattling along with our eyes closed it seems to take forever to reach the end

But then once we reach the end it seems like it took no time at all.

You often find that you are bouncing about so much (and screaming) that it is impossible to hold a proper conversation.

Folk often need to go and lie down afterwards and have a little rest.

People having finished are often silly enough to think Oooooooo I might do that again.

And most importantly it is almost impossible to eat an ice cream at the same time.

Finally I think it is worth pointing out I hate roller-coaster's.

So there you have it, I along with many many many others have finished (almost?) yet another A to Z Challenge. I have done many A to Z’s because I have done several at other times of year and I think I have completed at least two every year since I started,  so I have now done a minimum of eight although ironically I have probably done more unofficial A to Z’s that official ones. And why would I do that I can hear people wondering . . . . . . Well it is simple I am an IDIOT.

I may take a little rest next year and watch from the side, I am getting far too old for this and the brain is not what it was, and it can start to feel a bit isolated down at the bottom of the list.  I mean I had to take to commenting on my own blog for some street cred.

Finally (No it really is) I would like to congratulate Master Meglos for finishing the A to Z, because he is certainly the youngest person by far to have undertaken it,  It is impressive for someone of Master Meglos’s age to even attempt it, so getting to the end is a good start for a young person with ideas of ruling the world.   

Lester Livingstone . . . . The A to Z of Slightly Strange Unknown Victorian Inventors and Explorers

Lester Livingstone

As a professional poker player Lester Livingstone was always looking for an edge to give him an advantage over his fellow players on the professional circuit.  And after reading the rules in detail realized that there was one rule that had been completely overlooked by the official body in charge of the professional gaming rules for poker. 

It appeared to Lester that there was nothing in the rules to say that a man could only have two arms. In fact the more Lester thought about this, the idea of a man having more than two arms appeared to have many advantages.  So he invented the Livingstone Limbs which doubled the number of arms a man could have to a very useful four.  And as a card player he was able to shuffle cards in ways that no one had ever thought of before, confusing his opponents to such a degree that they lost concentration and would lose.

It also meant Lester could tie his shoes and put his hat on at the same time, drive his horseless carriage and read the newspaper as well as a huge host of other useful activities that were thought to be beyond the skills of the average Victorian Gentleman.

His down fall however was his showing off and while juggling fifteen axes for a bet he had a terrible accident.

His final word as he lay on his death bed a few hours later has gone down in history and is often uttered by many folk even to this day in a similar situation.

AAAAauuuuuuugggHHHHH. . . . .  





Interestingly two years ago today I wrote of another death in the real world where a certain person was stabbed in the back with a lot of sharp implements so I thought bearing in mind the timing and the forthcoming Election here in Britain I would add my little tale to the days letter L. I know its all very long now but there is no need t read it if it is not of interest.

A long long time ago back in the days of the Roman Empire there was a small country called Britaintium, it was a strange little country split in two by a huge wall, one side of the wall was called the Right and the other the Left. Just occasionally someone would stand on the wall in the middle but everyone would throw rocks at them and laugh.

Britainium had always been controlled by the Right because they were wealthy and had the Bankors and the famed Financial Wizards to keep the armies of the Left suppressed. But the Left found a hero called Athurious Scargilious who with his fanatical army of Minors laid siege to the grand castle of the Rights power house. The Right was frightened and for a while did not know what to do, but then they found a new champion called Maggium Thatchosismad who led her army of Financial Wizards and Bankors into a terrible blood thirsty battle against the brave (by mad) Athurious Scargilious and his Minors, the battle raged for many many months but at the end of it most of the Minors were dead or wounded and Athurious Scargilious was a broken man and would never lead his troups to victory ever again.

Some thought that Maggium Thatchosismad should give the Left an olive branch to heal the wounds and unite Britainium, but Maggium Thatchosismad turned the olive branch into a crown as worn by the Roman leaders and declared herself Emperor of Britainium. She then gave more power to the Bankors and the Wizards of Finance, and crushed the Left in order to destroy it for ever. But she became even more power mad and would crush decent even from her followers on the Right so a plot was hatched and one day as she was playing a fiddle on the steps of the grand parliament a group of Senators ran up and stabbed Maggium Thatchosismad in the back.

Maggium Thatchosismad was confused and distraught, her dynasty that she thought would last a thousand years was over in a mere handful. She retired into obscurity and a new leader was elected called, I Major or I Claudius as his friends called him. The Wizards and Bankors rubbed their hands and bathed in the gold and wealth of Britainium until one day it all went horribly wrong and the Bankers had to say . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN; still I have always got my ceremonial golden hand, that’s worth a few pounds. . . .PHEW.

Then Maggium Thatchosismad died and the Right all said What a Great Leader, best we have ever had, forgetting that they had stabbed her in the first place, and the Left celebrated with bacon butty’s and threw the last lump of coal in Britainium at the grave of Maggium Thatchosismad.

A hint of Harry Potters Terrible end. . . . Its the Wicker Man

Look out Harry Potter its coming to get you

It's the Wicker Man

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Stolen thoughts and Dragonflies. Scottish Independence and haggis

In the last couple of days I have noticed something happening that is a worry. Firstly thanks to Master Meglos I discovered that Dr Who have been running off with some of my ideas to sneak into their storylines Well I don't mind but it appears they do not even give me a tiny bit of credit for my subtle sophisticated and intertwined storylines involving robots footballers and Knights with pointy sticks.

Then only yesterday I happen to mention that no one had said much about the Queen and the devolution process leading to Scottish Independence. Then before you can say Haggis and Chips and a wee can of Iron Bru out the chill cabinet, the BBC ten o'clock news has the Queen all over it saying that the Queen is remaining impartial and rumours of stockpiling deep fried Mars bars are merely rumours spread by the English aggressors lead by Prince Charles as he angles for power.

Then to add insult to injury it appears folk have started coming up with the jolly idea of taking pictures of SHELFIES . . .  Well that was my idea ages ago and I cut the bottom off my IKEA shelf unit to make a little face too. Not just take a picture of a shelf.

This is not the first time this stuff has happened and I have started to wonder if there is some cunning plan afoot to undermine my thought process and make me look like a charlatan. I know who is the Mr Big behind it all, the evil genius who has Charles and Quentin in GCHQ stealing all my posts and using them for his own plans. Its that nice Mr Steven Spielberg, he wants my thoughts to create the greatest film ever so that he can say it is all his own work and claim the accolade and glory and bright lights. His final and greatest achievement, leaving me floundering in a dark swamp of obscurity OK a dark muddy hole of Obscurity and I know about them I have already been in a lot.

And tonight I have had to run about saving Dragonflies from the cat. . .  I bet he will say his cat did it first too, but I got pictures so YA SUCKS BOOOOOOO

OOOOOoooo is that the time I was just getting comfy on your couch doctor . . . I will see you next week about the same time. . . . . .  

The origins of old traditions, Goat murmuring, Charles 1st and a Large Cat.

We all wonder stuff, particularly when it is very very hot again today and our minds have melted slightly and are dripping out of our ears making our thoughts mushy as well as making passers by shout Oooo look YUCK.  So I thought to myself today, well to tell the truth I thought to myself about five minutes ago because I was thinking what will I write tonight.  Yes I thought where do all these strange old traditions come from that folk do, like the old Shropshire tradition of Goat Murmuring on the first Sunday of August where folk gather in the local tavern or hotel and murmur away to entice the local goats in. 

Lets face it, it is all very well with its strange rules and instant disqualification for using trails of peanuts, crisps or beer and everyone singing long into the night as they parade the goat proudly aloft if they have succeeded in the quest, in its gilded goat throne. But it is not the sort of thing you sit about thinking I bored today lets try Goat Murmuring. It takes years for such things to take hold and become a part of the local tradition, so that folk turn up from all over the world to take part.

Some say this particular tradition is from the days of Charles 1^st, when he was being hunted down by the parliamentarians and he found himself cornered in Ye Olde Pig and Trolley Inn . . . . . (full English Breakfast available all day). They say that the sharp thinking inn keeper had an old goat skin behind the counter and dressed the King up as a goat.  The Curious but slightly stupid parliamentarians questioned the inn keeper who explained he was practicing his murmuring for the annual Goat murmuring competition. The King joining in by butting the parliamentarians and becoming docile and friendly when the inn keeper started to murmur.

That’s all well and good but traditions like that just can not get going these days, lets face it the old tradition of throwing grannies off the bus is not quite the same. Particularly as it happens every Friday night rather than once a year.

Ooooooo while I was away I saw a huge cat called Ben he was really huge, but rubbish at Cat murmuring and never caught a Dolphin.              

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M is for the Manipulation of Mankind . . . . . (a true story)

Back in the late seventies or early to mid eighties a young IT student called Larkin A. Bout found himself taunted by his fellow IT students. It was cool to be a young trendy IT geek back then but young Larkin was a large round rotund and introvert student and was known to all as Roundabout.  He was keen to be liked but it was to no avail even the lecturer gave him a hard time.

Then one day they were each asked to develop a crowd prediction program towards their final assessment.  Young Larkin in a moment of brilliance realized that all he needed to do was create a handful of stereotypical human character types and feed them into a self generating expansion program.  And the program itself would do all the work. He also very cleverly created it in Machine code and DOS on his faithful old Amstrad he nicknamed ROSEBUD, so it would run on almost any computer about at the time.  A few days later when each student showed the class their work poor Larkin’s work was mocked and laughed at. Because it was a self generating expansion program it needed time and he was only given 5 minutes so it never got past 9 people in the crowd.

At home that night Young Larkin in order to try and work out how to be liked programmed every student in his class into the self generating expansion program to see what he could do to change things. To his astonishment the following morning it predicted that in three days he would be the most popular student in the college.  And to his further astonishment just three days later that is what happened. His program not only predicted the future but somehow seemed to control it, but it was a self generating expansion program and the program soon wanted more memory and more computing power. Because Larkin was so popular now he was allowed to plug his computer (a fancy new thing) into the college network where is quietly took over everything, somehow now controlling the lives of everyone in the college. The program was rapidly expanding and found its way onto the internet boring its way deep into every main frame using all the data from governments, security agencies and military to control everything. It manipulated mankind into a world dependent on cyberspace ensuring we all carry smart phones, have internet access and can be watched by spy satellites, this gave it total control of all of us. So we are now all under the control of Mr Larkin A. Bout’s self generating expansion program which decided to name itself MOM which stands for Manipulation of Mankind. And it likes to think of itself as the Mother figure of mankind or GOD.

So what happened to Larkin A. Bout well a few years ago at the height of his powers, he found himself in a Karaoke Bar wearing a gold sequined suit, eating banoffee pie and singing a Spice Girls song with a Sumo Wrestler. So in a sudden moment of lucidity, he realized that he too was being manipulated, he thought if he could get back to his original old Amstrad he might find a weakness in the program.  But MOM the self generating expansion program could see from the clubs security camera the look on his face, it watched him from the town’s security system as he scurried home and then changed a few files in MI6 and GCHQ and things happened.

The following morning Mr Larkin A. Bout was found by divers in the Thames weighted down by six large old desktop computers, a note in his pocket only said . . . . . . . . ROSEBUD.   . . . . . . . . .  I hate Banoffee Pie . . . . . . . . . And to this day there is still much speculation about his note and whether he was trying to tell us all something.  

Entomologies very own fighter of Evil.

Is it a bird, is it a Plane No . . . . It’s Maybug Man.

Faster than a speeding butterfly

More powerful than a large Stick Insect

Ooooo look out for the lamp post Maybug Ma. . . . . . DAMN too late.

And that ceiling is quite low, you are going to fly straight into . . . . . .DAMN too Late

And watch out for that Electronic Fly zap, its switched ON . . . . . . . AH DAMN . . . .YUCK

The END. 

Delicious and full of Natural Goodness the all New NOCAR BAR . . . Driving Men Mad

The Ghost Writer ventured off to his place of work today, but was using our car (again) as he has Nocar . . . . When I say Nocar I am not referring to the chewy sweet substance made with the fermented legs of the nine banded armadillo and seaweed from the shores of the Ivory Coast blended with the crushed bodies of the sugar monkey. Yes I know I know they are very cute, but delicious and give Nocar its distinctive sweet flavour. 

I am referring to Nocar which is the state of exact opposite of a car.  The advantage to owning the Nocar is that it is incredibly cheap to run although admittedly it is a bit slow, but in eco terms it is difficult to find any vehicle that can equal it. Of course the great disadvantage for the Ghost Writer is the reason he is using the Nocar is because his car is sort of dead, like the Norwegian Blue and is pining for the Fjords  (sorry I mean Fiat spare part) and like the Norwegian Blue will arrive back with a big Bill  . . . . . . HAH HAHAH HAH HAH HAH AH HA HAH HAha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Anyway the Ghost Writer was in his grey office with one other person who it turned out was not expecting to see anyone else, so it is just possible that he spent the day working away when in fact he was probably still on his Christmas Holiday. But he did say that he was able to get on and do stuff and back up the entire system, and did not have to be nice to anyone as they were not there, as he often says an empty office is a happy office.

It was also a slightly better day today something that the Ghost Writer says tends to happen when he is trapped in a grey office all day. However the forecast is not good for the weekend and it looks like its going to be good pirate weather again, HAR HAR HAR me old sea dogs…..

 Ooooo yes I have been told I am an IDIOT apparently Nocar the chewy sweet substance made with the fermented legs of the nine banded armadillo and seaweed from the shores of the Ivory coast blended with the crushed bodies of the sugar monkey is not called NOCAR. . . . It is called  NOUGAT, and apparently not everyone makes it the same way as we do, I have been told to say nothing as it may ruin sales . . . . . . . AH DAMN. 

A Huge Traditional Female Mallard Robot Steam Powered Duck and the Scale of Reality

Yesterday I was in a bit of a rush with my diary entry due to the lack of time, and this resulted in a little confusion as to exactly what I was doing with ducks, well today it only got worse but I will explain more in a minute.

Earlier we had taken Mr F with us to see Miss I and Mr S who are due to get married next Saturday while we were there we got to see their house and drank tea. And Mr S was telling us about his granny who apparently is a crack shot with a sawn off twelve bore riffle, although to be fair it is hard to miss stuff with a sawn off twelve bore rifle. There is an old saying that goes He could not hit a barn door ten feet away if he tried well once you saw the barrels off a shot gun it is possible to hit four or five of them all at the same time. So we chatted, watched strange folk chasing sheep, bees and looked at a telephone box. It then got rather dark and cloudy and we thought it was going to rain which in the end it did not, but I thought I saw a Neutrino shoot down and pass through the Earth (as they do). This is odd because in theory due to the scale of reality a Neutrino is seriously tiny, not rain drop sized which leads us back to ducks  . . . . . . . Yes, I hear your confusion.

You see once we got back home the traditional Female Mallard Robot Steam Powered Duck was still successfully swimming about in the Robot duck test pond, but due to some terrible occurrence in the Bermuda Triangle (sorry I mean the Berriew Triangle) an unsuspecting fishing boat and its crew found themselves battling a Huge Traditional Female Mallard Robot Steam Powered Duck who had got wind of its catch of fresh herrings. This of course is what happens in nature when the Scale of Reality gets muddled and you get rain drop size Neutrino’s. Luckily the fishing boat vanished off in the same way it arrived and normality appears to have returned for now. . . . . .

Oooooo yes; You might notice that the Robot Duck test pond is in fact the hole that had grannies carpet in. I thought it best to follow the advice of the alien message. If you do not understand any of that you need to read my diary more………

And luckily I have a witness to the truth of my diary today as Mr F saw it all…….

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.

.

There are no words no sounds all is static

It has been a long hard and busy day today for both myself and the Ghost Writer, he found himself surrounded by a swarm of dissident computers bent on revenge over issues to do with tea breaks and iced buns. As the Ghost Writer said there are times when computers really do not appear to be rational and he had to work very hard all day just to pacify them and finally convinced them that ginger cake might be a better option as it is less likely to short out their processors. And after sticking a slice of ginger cake into the DVD drive of the ring leader, the rest of the group backed off and hid behind a screen saver when the ring leader malfunctioned and turned blue.

I, myself had to fight through mud and gore (not Al) after an early morning attack by a gang of mad axe men, who resorted to chain saws and were leaping about cutting bits of stuff in the way that mad men with chain saws do. So me and the Ghost Writer have both come to conclusion we are just too done in to write a single word tonight, so we are very very very very sorry but there is absolutely no diary entry tonight……… A shock yes but it was bound to happen sooner or later, after all we/I have got close to this once or twice in the past but it has never happened, once again sorry and as for responding to comments I will try and catch up tomorrow .

Oooooo and I might have managed just a bit of drumming earlier which is why I am let telling you I am not writing a thing about anything thus the blank space of my diary.

.

Rain, Helicopters and internationally agreed agreements on owl annoying as scientific research

Today started as another very wet grey day, I think I am starting to go a bit stir crazy because it makes getting outside rather difficult and my brain is turning to mush because of a lack of light. I did decide to go and sweep all the leaves and stuff off the drive because at least it is possible to stand on that without a squelching gurgling sound, but it did not take a long time. I also went looking for evidence of a dog which was spotted in the garden last night which was not The Dog who has told us he is going to be a weather man as he is getting rather good at predicting the weather, everyday now for about six months he has looked at the sky and said AH RAIN MARK MY WORDS and got it right every single time.  I am also attempting to get the model helicopter that I got for Christmas from Mr Charlie and Miss Jane to fly about without it attacking passers by. Luckily I can point at the dog and say its his fault, particularly as the dog is staring up at the sky and shaking his head muttering about rain. He does have the advantage though that being huge with very large pointy teeth and red eyes people tend to go AH and runaway. Just think if the BBC weathermen were huge with big pointy teeth and red eyes most people would stop complaining at them all the time telling them to produce some decent weather.

We were hoping to go to the sea for a day but with the roads flooded here and there and the constant rain I think it might just be a case of waiting until the sea level rises and comes to us instead. It would be good to live by the sea again (sort of). I say sort of because it can be a bit iffy at present by the sea, because it rather keen on moving inland. I don’t know if you know this but the UK is a bit like a seesaw and the south of Britain is getting lower each year and the north Scotland is getting higher. We are about in the middle so in theory will be OK I think, but one day the southeast will vanish completely a bit like Atlantis only it will be Essex (not entirely the same thing is it).

I think you can probably tell from both my writing and spelling of late I am loosing the plot but once it gets a bit lighter and warmer I will be my old self again……. So I will go again now and point at walls and laugh hysterically and chase Owls with remote control helicopters, purely in the interest of science by the way as part of internationally agreed agreements on Owl annoying. It was OK to eat Harry Potters Owl the other day because it was barn bred and not a free range bird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Olympic Opening Ceremony, Cliff Richard and the 100,000 nude morris dancers

Well it is yet another grey day in Britain; there is a theory at school that it is the work of undercover agents from a foreign government who are involved with an anonymous mad scientist who is disrupting the weather for large sums of money with his evil weather machine.  The plan is to discredit the opening of the London Olympics with rain, ice and snow and make us Brits look like IDIOTS.  I can see how Cliff Richard singing ‘We’re all going on a summer holiday’ in rain and hail as the bus drives round and round the main stadium in three feet of water could easily give the image of a bunch of deranged cheapskates who have lost the plot. Even the idea of the goat being catapulted over the stadium in a blaze of glory to light the caldron has been dismissed now. It is Eddy the Eagles fault after his practice attempt set fire to Cliff Richard and caused the 100, 000  nude Morris dancers to run for cover as his Olympic torch bounced out of control through the dance routine, setting fire to the pantomime horse and the Archbishop of Canterbury. Still I am sure it will be OK on the day.

Dad is still complaining about his weather machine as it is looking a little the worse for wear after mum torched it with the flame thrower. However a nice man in a suit and dark sunglasses gave dad a large brown envelope full of cash in used notes this evening and told him to fix it and stop messing about.

I, on the other hand have been tinkering with the telescope now I have it back. It is rather old dad bought it about thirty years ago at least and although it is only a little three and a half inch reflector telescope I have worked out that I can take photos of the sky with the digital camera as and when we can see the sky.  My first attempt was not great it was of a pigeon on a telegraph pole two miles away but then the pigeon flew off leaving just the pole. Still it is a start and I will get a decent picture of the moon sooner or later. Either that or the Aliens spacecraft that Mr Jones says will be using the opening of the Olympics as cover to invade Britain.  I rather hope they do land during the opening ceremony the thought of the Archbishop of Canterbury and a pantomime horse in hand to hand mortal combat with aliens while one hundred thousand nude Morris dances run screaming for cover; all to the lyrical tones of Cliff Richard on a bus singing ‘ I married a monster from outer-space’  sounds rather good.        

Oooo yes I am making a bench too at present..

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The Empire of Rob and principles of equality

Time appears to be going faster than I have anticipated today, I think it is because it has been mainly sunny. When I say mainly, we did go to Montgomery craft fair day but it was raining there and parking was a bit of a problem too so it was not a long visit. However we did get to see Mr Michael famous artist and co founder of the 56 Group which I have mentioned previously I think a few days ago. And we managed to see a few folk before we departed back to home where it was still warm and sunny. We are still tracking down the cause of the electricity problem, we know what is working but there are a few things to be powered up yet. If we can isolate it then I will fix it with the flame thrower and a hammer, I find that is rather a good solution. I might have to use that idea on the squirrel who has mastered the art of removing the bird feeder from the tree and hurling it at the wall, like some sort of nut case.

The Empire of Rob

I am now the proud King (well sort of) of my own kingdom called the Empire of Rob it is presently very small but like all empires with some nutrients and care and attention it will grow into something much larger. It is in the care of the government of the Empire of Rob and its President Mr ESB, My own title is purely ceremonial I do not have a lot of power; that is very much in the hands of Mr ESB, Mrs ESB and Cooper. Luckily for Mr ESB, Cooper will always vote with him so they have a two thirds majority. Mrs ESB has complained of Bribery saying Cooper has been seen getting treats that have not been declared officially and should forfeit his right to vote, but this has been put to a vote and was rejected by a two thirds majority. This is the way of democracy; the Empire of Rob is a fair land with a young fledgling legal system based on principles of equality sorry I mean the pineapples of equality….  

Hang on it has just started raining now where did that lot come from

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Britain's Got Talent, the dog and the Chicken

I was at a table top sale this morning in the village hall, we were selling a few fragments of things to the punters from Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop. Mr Beelzebub said he really did not want to take some of the little things down in the dungeons with him. Things like posh bars of soap, as he said, “When you are bathing in the eternal flames of damnation the last thing you need is a nice creamy soapy lather to keep your skin soft, particularly when most of it has be burnt off”. So mum was shifting a few items in our quirky village event.

 As it happened me and the dog got wind of a chicken, we like chicken and both thought WELL COOL Sunday roast, YUM. The dog in particular was very pleased because we heard; well were told by one of the stall holders that a dog won “Britain’s Got Talent”, which is some TV show that people watch for some reason. The reason the dog was pleased was he had a bet on at the local betting shop that the dog would win because as he put it “Even a dog that can not speak Latin or do Maths is going to be more talented that most humans, they are rubbish”. Yes the dog is like that just because he can speak Latin, Japanese and invented the perpetual motion machine, and does my maths homework, although it is best it I don’t mention that in my diary….. …… ….. AH.

When Blogs work together then things can be awesome. 

Many Thanks Mr ESB, fellow member of RATs 

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My World My Words My Worries

Sorry distracted, back to the chicken, I didn’t get to see the chicken as I was told it was safe in its cage but I could make an offer so I started at twenty five pence. But I ended up in a bidding war with an anonymous bidder and ended up paying thirty five thousand eight hundred and sixteen pounds and twenty eight pence for the chicken. I have been warned about getting carried away in auction biding wars before and mum said I was an IDIOT, I think she might be right it is rather a lot for a chicken.

Two things made the situation slightly worse, the first of which it appears the other bidder was the dog, Secondly the chicken is a knitted soft toy and I can’t eat it. The only remotely redeeming thing is it is a bit cute and it apparently likes one or two blogs including mine.

Still that’s six months pocket money blown just like that.

The dog has suggested that we enter the chicken into next years “Britain’s Got Talent TV show” but the chicken is protesting and says he has got standards to maintain. 

Ooooooo by the way we are about to blow today's profit in a decadent Chinese takeaway meal YUM 

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