The Godzilla Appreciation Society and the Microdot

We are out for a meal tonight, in fact we are out for meals two nights this week which is rather rare as in general we are antisocial and I for one like to grumble and poke folk with pointy sticks. It is far better than poking at holes in the ground with pointy sticks because people are in general far more responsive than holes in the ground unless the person is sort of dead and in a hole in the ground but it is bad form to poke someone who is dead and in the ground unless they are a Zombie or a Vampire. In the case of the Vampire we are generally encouraged to poke pointy sticks into them although you can’t tell they are Vampires until they wake up and start trying to suck all your blood out. You see even the protocol of using a pointy stick is full of pitfalls, which is ironically what happens if you slip you fall into a pit HAH HAHAHH ha hah ah hah ah hah ah ah ha ha ha hah ahha hah ah ah hah ah h ha hah ahah ah hh ah ah ah ah h aha ha ha ha.

OK yes tonight we are teaming up with the Godzilla Appreciation Society on one of their annual shindigs, that does not mean we are digging shins or anything else by the way it just means we are meeting up and having a meal as they now have to find a new location to meet as they have out grown their present meeting hall. Well when I say they have outgrown the hall what I mean is their Genetically Modified Godzilla Experiment has outgrown the hall and the hall committee have complained about the teeth marks in the ceiling.

OOoo yes sorry about tonights picture but mum, who as we know is a secret double agent has to pass a microdot to the Russians and has said she has hidden it in my diary, She said she was going to hide it in one of my drawings, but on seeing tonight’s drawing said I was an IDIOT. However she also said that as long as MI6, GCHQ (hello Quinton and Charles) and the CIA are not aware of her plan, all will be OK…….

AH DAMN

Mum has said IDIOT again . . . . .

Mothers day and the life size Steam Powered Vincent Price Vampire Automata

I have descended into a state of limbo not as in the dance where you have to go under a pole a bit like the reverse of pole vaulting (as in the sport), no but like in a state of suspended animation where I am frozen and not doing anything. This is because the weather has turned back to winter and my mind has now passed winter and is in spring mode. I am not sure that nature is designed to deal with weather when it starts to reverse back in time, I certainly know in my own case my mind and body have now decided to shut down for a while until the weather catches it up again.  One of the things that makes this winter particularly hard is the fact that the weather in Britain started to get bad on the 3^rd June 2012, you see a decent diary has it moments so although this winter is not really terrible when added to a bad summer and autumn it means it feels like a very very very long winter.

In other items of importance. . . . . . . .Today was Mothers day, I say Mothers day but I refer to Mothers day in Britain because as it happens Mothers day is not a universal date and it appears that globally there are about thirty different dates for Mothers day. In fact today is one of the less common dates for Mothers day, so that’s COOL (or very cold).

My life size Steam Powered Vincent Price Vampire Automata was quite a surprise and mum said it was the last thing she wanted (sorry was expecting), It has photo cells in it and when it gets dark he starts creeping about the house hissing (that’s due to steam) and biting anything that moves.  I tested in on the cats in a dark shed which seemed to work although I think maybe it might have been best if I had remained outside rather in the dark shed during testing, still I will recover and I only lost a couple of pints of blood but that was mainly due to the cats hiding on my head. I have named him Boris although everyone says that is confusing because Boris is a monsters name and not a vampires name, vampires have names like George or Hector or Roger or Volfgarde  . . . . . I still prefer Boris myself.

Ok that’s it I am off now to hunt for the source of some heat, any sort of heat, well maybe not the hot steamy heat of a life size pointy toothed Steam Powered Vincent Price Vampire Automata.

DAMN . . . . . . . . . . now where has it sneaked off to, that is not meant to happen it’s not dark yet.

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The Men the Woman a Wooden Pole and Electricity

It has been a dark day after a white start which is not what was planned, although the white start was predicted . . . Snow . . .  although not useful snow (again) but then about 11.00am all the power in the house went off, this happened the other day and then about 40 minutes later returned. Only this time it did not.  Mum phoned the people at Scottish Power who said AH you are a woman and that means that you do not understand it, it is probably one of your trip switches. Mum pointed out she is not an IDIOT and that all the trip switches were fine. But the man at Scottish Power said AH but you are a woman and this is electricity and no one else has phoned just you, so mum said he was an IDIOT and that regardless of who had phoned or not there was a problem. So the man said he would send a man to look and fix it.

The man then arrived at the house and looked at the earth trips and said Oooooo they are all right we thought as you were a woman you probably don’t understand electricity . . . .AH OK MMMMMMMM. So the man went off scratching his head and prodding wires, then he returned and said AH yes there is a bit of a problem in that transformer in the field next to you but its OK we'll have it fixed in no time. . . . . .PHEW that was good.

Then the man returned with his mate and said AH it’s a bigger problem than we thought, I don’t suppose you heard a big bang by any chance; mum said NO and the men said AH, anyway it might take a few hours to fix now because to put it in technical terms it appears that the cables are knackered and we need to call in reinforcements.

More men arrived then and looked at the transformer perched on its wooden poles (the transformer is perched on wooden poles not the men) and they pointed a lot and said AH and shook their heads in a knowing way and then had a cup of tea and ate sandwiches. Then said we will have it sorted in no time . . . . Well AH when we say no time we mean about eight hours.

So we had cups of tea on the open fire and sang camp fire songs because it was too dark and with no power the wondrous joys of cyberspace are like chasing a mole on the moon, (I know there are moles on the moon, I have seen mole hills with my telescope). The result of all this was in the dark we could see men with torches having a jolly time, we knew that because we could hear them laughing as they pointed and nodded in a knowing way a lot. But out of such disaster comes triumph, because without power we resorted to a Chinese takeaway YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY so it was not all bad. Then after finishing our takeaway and falling over cats that were playing trip the human, (they like that game), all the lights came back on and all the men ran away, and I get to write my diary entry for the day  . . . .

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The School Run Mums and the Eagle

The Ghost Writer was whinging when he got here tonight to see us, he says he was trying to get out of the car park of the big grey office but it involves crossing the traffic that turns right. However at the time all the mums from the school run were in the queue and all looked the other way staying bumper to bumper so he could not get across them to turn left. In the end he gave up and went the other way out and did a detour.  He is not a fan on mums on school runs and says they are ********** rude ***** ******** selfish ****** drivers, but to make matters worse once he did get out of town (20mins to do a quarter of a mile) he got stuck behind a really slow car. Well it was slow until he indicated to overtake, then it would speed up from 25 to 55 then at the slightest bend or if traffic was coming the other way they panicked and slowed down to 25 again. Still he is here now and grumbling……. A bit, OK a lot.

Anyway we were all sitting drinking our cups of tea as the Ghost Writer stuck pins in a wax doll of a mum on a school run who was turning right when a huge big bird flow over head, We think it might have been a red kite but if it was it was a damn big one, no really big. I was running about with the camera trying to get a picture of it but not really with much luck. It appears the best way to take pictures of animals and birds in the wild are in a camouflaged hide with a huge zoom lens and lots of patience. Not running about with a little digital camera with no zoom and everyone shouting its behind the cherry tree o no sorry the big black horse Ah…… O no it has gone behind the queue of school mums who are all screaming because one of them appears to have huge pins sticking out of their head and the bird has run off with little serendipity their daughter. I never did get a proper picture of the monster bird just one from miles away I tried to blow-up the picture like in the movie (again) but sadly it looks like a crow and it was a huge beast. The good news though is the Ghost Writer has cheered up.

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Burning Bilberry Bushes, Biodiversity and banshees

Because today is Monday Mum has made Buns so today is now Bun-day much better.  Biology in School today with Mr Bradford (a budding Buddhist Bio-chemist) was Brilliant.  “The biology of a Bilberry Bush”, and despite Bernard’s best attempts to burn the Bilberry bush (he says he had read about a burning bush somewhere) being brought to an abrupt stop by being bashed on the head with a baseball bat by Mr Bradford the Biology teacher. The bush was still a bountiful biosphere of breathtaking beetles, bumble bees, brontosaurus and big bad burrowing beasts from Byzantium……… AH I might have got a bit carried away there. Mum has said Buffoon (not IDIOT today).       

However while bouncing back to the classroom through the Bracken, the banshee’s came to see me, we are the best of buddies from way back.  But Banshees always scare folk so Mr Bradford and some of Class B52 threw Buttered buns at the banshees shouting “be gone beasts you will give us Bronchitis and Bubonic Plague and blue boils and bully our budgerigars.  It was the Brussels sprouts that finally made the banshees back off, back into the Broadleaf trees of the woods. You can’t blame them, Brussels sprouts …….YUK.

The rest of the day in school was bitterly boring but that was because it appeared that everyone else had started their Easter Holidays……………………….AH DAM, Mum said IDIOT (sorry Buffoon)

Back to burying Brassica’s and Broad beans, and building the sculpture.      

I’m off now Because I am Drumming (Djembe)   soon with the Band ….. Brilliant. The truth is never good for B’s

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XANTHOCHROISM and an X (rayed) Parrot

Dad was xperimenting with Xanthic acid, Xylostein and Xanthoxylene to make X ray Specs while mum was doing Xylopyrography. The dog however kept saying this X letter is a Bxxxxxxxxx Fxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxxx Nuisance……. You will have to Xcuse the use of the X but it is for the best (No it really is today).  Dad has been using Captain Flint the Parrot as a  guinea pig, and has told Us This is an X(rayed) Parrot, and both him and the dog are rolling about in Hysterixxx’s (yes yes but we need all the X’s we can get).

He will be telling us it has Xpired, become xstinct and so on in a bit

I decided to be a Xylotomist today and practice the noble art of Xylotomy. In order to work out the exact age of the big oak tree with the big X on it. According to Captain Flint the Parrot the Big X marks the spot of buried treasure, but then Captain Flint the Parrot would say that. The vet says Captain Flint the Parrot is suffering from a bit of Xanthochroism but Captain Flint said  Stupid XXXXXXXX VET, that’s Just what you might X Pecked from a Vet ………… X Pecked HAH HAHHAHh hah hah haha hah ahah haha hah haha hah hhah ha Pieces of Eight.

Well at least no one mentioned the X men and the Xylophonist ……………………….. AH I just did XXXXXX

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Lemmy, Motorhead, Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian Spy and the Grimble Spin

It has been a day of as dad would put it “a bit of this a bit of that, let the Seagull nibble the fish tail, twist the Grimble Spin in the apple pie and glue the lip on the tea caddy”.  Mum often replies to dad’s quirky sayings  with IDIOT, so does the dog and so does the manager at the Supermarket.

Mum and dad went there today (the Supermarket) and dad said to the manager “you have been Balancing the can on the pot noodle, it will all end in tiers. You’ll find your two for the price of one will spoil the cook and a kettle watched will never sell. Dad said the manager was not paying attention because he thought Lemmy from Motorhead was running off with frozen legs of lamb (again). Silly manager he should know by now that it’s the dog and we all know the old saying “Never the twix turn dog and frozen legs of lamb if nay be bitten on own leg” so the manager apparently is limping a bit now.  Still the dog is enjoying eating the frozen legs of lamb.

Anyway when I got back from school I found a post it note from Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian Spy in the kitchen. It was in code so I am not entirely sure what it meant but she said “there is a Wasp sitting in the room upstairs Watch out” and the note also said on it “Harry is staring at the wall up top”, well we all know what that means.

Anyway that’s your lot for tonight as the Angel of the Norse will not make herself and the dag said “time marches on an empty stomach”.  Although mum says Just get on with it Rob and don’t be an IDIOT. That hardly has the same poetic quirky and slightly confused image does it, not like “the feather on the wind flies further than the stone in the river although the stone may travel further given time”. And you can’t argue with that.   

The May Bug, the CIA, the takeaway curry and GOD

May is the month of the May Bug, they are incredibly stupid insects that do everything rather badly they fly at night and navigate by the moon only they spend there nights crashing into windows a lot. Then when they do get in to your house they run out of steam mid flight and fall usually on your head. For that reason they are rather unpopular.

Last night was the first night of May Bugs for us and they were bashing the windows loads. Mum is not really a fan of May Bugs because one once fell in her coffee while she was drinking it, it then fell in her soup and finally froze to death negotiating a large scoop of ice-cream while she was trying to eat that. Dad says they are real bugs planted by the CIA because he hit one once and it fused and loads of microchips fell out of it and it had property of the US government on the bottom.  The dog insists they are Gods way of proving Charles Darwin was wrong because they have evolved into a rubbish design over the millions of years they have been around. So God is sort of saying HAR HAR HAR a bit like Pirate Pete really; although I think I should point out Pirate Pete is not God even if he tells you he is, which he sometimes does after drinking quite a lot of rum from his illegal still in the cellar which I am still not allowed to mention. AH.

Me and the dog went looking for the May Bugs today but only found the one picture included. I don’t think they can eat so they have a very short life, dad says that just proves his theory but mum said IDIOT. So for a few nights now it will be a case of shutting all the windows once it’s dark or they will be all over the place, Pirate Pete is wondering if he could train one to say pieces of eight and pretty Polly but we have all said IDIOT now.

The ghost writer by the way said he has been on his feet a lot today and they are a bit on the sore side and now plans to rest and have a takeaway curry for his dinner. NOT FAIR I think I will go and lie on the kitchen floor with the dog and if we both howl loudly and point at the takeaway menu a lot maybe we will get one. YUMMY

The stereo-typical family eating the foot of J K Rowlings and the other stuff

Mum said you are what you eat so the dog is having roast Saint Bernard for dinner and I am having stew made with J.K.Rowlings, well that was the plan but mum said it was not a good idea. So she has made a cake that is the life size image of J.K.Rowlings wearing a jumper with the name Bernard across the front of it. Me and the dog were arguing about who gets to eat the head.

Mr Jenkins came for tea tonight too because Mrs Jenkins has taken up arc welding at evening classes. Mr Jenkins thinks although we are all very strange we are the stereo-typical family where mum does all the cooking and practical things like nuclear science and chemistry and is the brains in the family. Dad potters about in his workshop making things like the Tyrannosaurs at Halloween or Pirate Pete’s bionic steam powered legs. And me and the dog cause chaos and eat loads and generally make a mess, Me and the dog think he is probably right but the dog had his mouth full of the arm of J.K.Rowlings while I was eating her foot (Yummy toe nails). Mum and dad did agree with him but said ours is a just a happy story of county life in the borders of Wales next to that other country called ? ….. …… England, we forget sometimes.

Now my train of thought has been disturbed by pigeons being very friendly to one another in the tree outside our window of the new office, I don’t think dad planned on that sort of thing happening right outside our windows.

No Luck finding Count Gomery today but we plan to stake out the laundrette because if he is still about then sooner of later he will be there with his duvet. I tried asking the Joules Verne Oracle and Prophecy machine about Count Gomery and it said I would be best to spend the night sleeping on a sacrificial stone slab in the woods at night because I would find him then. Mum said I was not allowed too though because we have too many plots on the go as it is and adding another one would just confuse us all even more. And besides just how many story lines can you get into one block buster movie. That’s true the Lord of the Rings only has one and look how long that lasted, those Ork things were rubbish, just how many of them does it take to change a light bulb.     

Late but I made it in the end

Well dad has spent almost the whole day working like a demented Looney but although the new office is not finished it is now working. There was quite a lot of swearing firstly doing all the woodwork and then getting the IT network all up and running, but things are almost done.

I think there are just too many deadlines for mum and dad and first thing Monday morning the world famous Chris the Builder is due to turn up to do some work on the house. Dad does not do cement or brickwork since he concreted his feet into the foundations of his workshop while building a wall.

Anyway it was best to leave mum and dad to it so me and the dog went to the wood as it was yet again a very hot day, lovely. We thought if mum and dad were working to deadlines it can only mean somewhere there must be some live lines. We spent ages in the wood and even saw the Dodo family, we haven’t seen them for ages not since before Jim went off to America to train animals in Hollywood. He is coming back in the summer holidays to do a new documentary in the wood, I told the Dodos’ they could be on television but they thought that was a bad move because last time they got all friendly with humans the humans ate them all. I did say it was there own fault for tasting so nice but they said NOT FAIR and ran away again.

Anyway we spent a long time looking for some live lines but with no luck then on our way home se saw a sign saying Beware Live Lines but all me and the dog saw was a protest group with signs saying no pylons. Silly people fancy not spelling Pythons correctly.

Finally I am very sorry this is so late tonight but it is dads fault