Part Four of Hogwarts V Jurassic World . . . Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum

Link to Part Three

As our heroic heroes arrive at the large and impressive outdoor performance pool for the Aquatic Dinosaurs of Jurassic World they spot Harry Potter, Hermione, Lily Luna and an assortment of young student wizards from Hogwarts. Lily Luna hanging over the side of the pool saying

dad dad dad dad  dad dad dad dad can I have a plesiosaur as a pet. . . . . I promise to look after it and clean outs its straw every week.

No Lily Luna I think you might be thinking of the wrong dinosaur.

But I want A PLESIOSAUR IT’S not fair.

However before the conversation continues it is interrupted by the arrival of Professor Franklin F F Frankenzompire  who is looking flustered, and is desperately attempting to un-jam his large and very scary machine gun. He is now being pursued by a large group of irritated pensioners who have chased him all the way from Customer Services.

Unfortunately for the professor while he was threatening the queues (who had amassed at Customer Services) with death for demanding a refund, he ended up with a jammed large scary machine gun. Now as anyone who has ever had to deal with the public will know . . . . you will never get away with threatening a coach party of pensioners if they think they are entitled to a refund or discount. And so any sign of weakness and they will attack like ferocious and totally irrational killer Zombies, so a jamming machine gun means you are a goner for sure.              

   

As the Professor passes the group he sees Harrison Ford-Cortina and throws his still jammed machine gun at him shouting things before leaping onto the edge of the pool still being chased by the coach party of pensioners.

Meanwhile as everyone else watches the rather strange spectacle of a gang of little old ladies hitting the professor on a small feeding platform forty feet above the pool the White Rabbit is focused on the distant horizon of the large bay beyond the pool.  Then as his packet watch chimes the hour he fires a flare gun high into the air, after a few seconds a flare is seen far off out at sea in response. Slowly but surely and generally unnoticed by most, a ship can be seen sailing towards Jurassic World, a ship with distinct sails flying the skull and crossbones.

By now Harry, Hermione and the young wizards of Hogwarts have settled down in the tiered seating of the vast performance pool to watch the grand finale.   Professor Franklin F F Frankenzompire having now resorted to using magic to defend himself from the relentless onslaught of little old ladies

Ooo the Grand Council of Wizards will not approve of that says Harry as another little old lady is turned into a Wild Mutant Raven.

Daaaaaaaaaad can I have a Wild Mutant Raven as a pet

No Lily Luna they are particularly aggressive and a bad choice by Professor Frankenzompire.

On the other side of the vast pool Young Higgs, Alice, The White Rabbit and Harrison Ford-Cortina are pushing the seriously enormous lock gates open that connect the performance pool to open ocean via a grand canal.

Now you have all seen the film, you all know that the large ocean going aquatic dinosaurs actually live out at sea and have been trained to enter the performance pool to do a few tricks like leap forty feet out of the water to get a tasty treat such as say a pensioner from a passing coach party.  What do you mean you have not seen the film (DAMN how was I to know it has not been released publically yet. . .  Sorry Mr Spielberg).

As the Lock gates open a large pirate ship sails into the pool its captain at the wheel laughing HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR shiver me timbers it be Master Higgs and Harrison Ford-Cortina . . . .  You are looking a bit different young Harrison since I last saw ye HAR HAR . . . . . . .  

Lily Luna turns to her dad and says that’s Captain Silver of Silvers Water Taxi’s who takes us to Hogwarts each term what is he doing here.

It is, and I don’t know yet, but I think that is a Plesiosaur over there too says Harry

Lily Luna claps her hands and says this is dead exciting I like Jurassic World.

 

To Be Continued.

Yes the Story has yet one more part to it as it reaches the grand finish where all will be revealed. 

Link to PART FIVE

A rare opportunity to meet the very nice Steven Spielberg in the flesh or maybe his lookalike snowman

In the last two hours in our little hamlet the weather has taken a turn for the worse and it is snowing rather heavily, although it was rather cold and wet even before it started snowing. I think it is just as well that our big family eat out was last night or it may have been a case of making up the numbers with a few snowmen. Snowmen tend to avoid any food involving a roast dinner due to some strange phobia involving the word roast.

 Napoleon Beelzebub says he has never had a snowman turn up in the fiery depths of his cellar, known to some as HELL; so it appears that all snowmen must be good and do good deeds. Personally I find it difficult to see why they would be good, as the great general public bash them about, throw snow balls at them, even rather sadistically stick carrots into their faces and lumps of coal in their eyes. Then add to that the rather idiotic idea of wrapping him (her) up with a warm scarf and a woolly hat (as if a snowman is going to want a woolly scarf and hat).  And yet through all this they just stand and take it without a single complaint. The dog says we should not be too sympathetic after all, beneath their jolly smiling exterior lies a cold hearted character, but he has also added (before rolling about in hysterics on the floor) they are rather freeze spirited and the first warm day and whoosh they are gone.

I think I might have my first sign of something white emerging from the compost of the mushroom kit and I can only assume it is one of three things; the first of which is a possibility, but I suspect a rather long shot and that is it is a mushroom.  The second bearing in mind the present weather conditions is, it is a snowman, and it does seem to be the right colour. Mum has just said IDIOT which leaves me with option three a Strange Alien Mushroom Creature from the Planet Venus. Mum has said IDIOT again but if it is not one of these options then what could it possibly be.

YES this is your opportunity to be part of the interactive manuscript to Book Two a rare chance to help mould (HA HAH HAHHAHH HAH HAH hahah hah ha) the sequel block buster movie and meet and discuss your option with the very nice Steven Spielberg in the flesh or possibly a  Steven Spielberg lookalike snowman if all else fails. SO THIS is a ONCE IN A lifetime opportunity, YOURS for today Only (OK tomorrow and maybe the next day). Get your idea in first and be sure to think big. 

Rules and conditions apply and we reserve the right to flog your idea for millions of pounds. Remember there are height restrictions but hats may be worm if it helps. Good Luck.

Warning mum says IDIOTS, you have been warned..

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The freebie book that came in today’s Observer Newspaper, the horse and the film director

I was trying to help in Napoleon Beelzebub today in his shop Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop but there was not much for me to do. Although I did have a telescope with me just in case I needed it, and I did meet Miss Fionski the Famous Russian Spy who was telling me of her latest mission code named Kill Mushroom. Where she was working undercover (a small box) in the movie business.

I was also given the freebie book that came in today’s Observer Newspaper called “Happier” which says you can learn to be happy. It even says “the backbone of the most popular course at Harvard today” on the cover. Now I do not wish to be the one to poo poo something out of hand or say that the kings invisible clothes are in fact a complete fabrication (HAH HAHHAHH AHHAHAH HAH hah hahah hahahahahh hahah haha) Sorry I just thought that was amusing, well a bit, OK it was not. But as the writer of the blog Rob Z Tobor the slightly eccentric child of cyberspace who has made it a policy to a cynical slightly grumpy but happy person in the vast universe of cyberspace including the ever popular Facebook, in my humble opinion this book is rubbish. Maybe it’s just me and everyone else thinks it is great, but I had a quiet day (it’s Sunday in the UK in winter) and had time to view its pages and yes sorry that is what I thought RUBBISH. I even read a few bits to mum who said IDIOT. I guess the fact mum is a Goth and the book is called “Happier” and is bright yellow with chirpy red writing on the cover might explain why she gave it to me in the first place though.

On top of that there is me (Happily) writing my diary, hoping someone will turn into a nice book with covers and paper in between or that nice Mr Steven Spielberg might be tempted to make the block buster movie, now that him and the horse have gone their separate ways. I believe the horse was just in it for the hay and a few lumps of sugar and the relationship finally broke down when Mr Spielberg shouted at the horse in a posh Hollywood restaurant That’s it I’ve had enough, You are just taking me for a ride at which point they stormed out of the restaurant and we seen galloping across the fields into the distance.

OK sorry I got distracted; I am basically making the point the book “Happier” is a book, OK yes a freebee with a Sunday newspaper but none the less a book where my diary is not a book and I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT THAT ……… and if nothing else this proves my point about this book. Mum just said IDIOT now.. 

Sunday on a cold and windy January in the UK and horses in cinemas

Sunday on a cold and windy January in the UK is not the best day for action adventure and to the best of my knowledge that nice Steven Spielberg last seen talking to that horse on the red carpet while they waited to go and see a movie about a horse, has not made a film about cold windy Sundays in the UK. Of course I could be wrong; I was a bit surprised that he made a film about a horse really, although if he is taking he mate the horse to the cinema then I guess the horse might have asked if he fancied making a horse movie.

Anyway as I’ve said it was Sunday all day and cold and wet and the dog has now complained about the horse, saying that it can’t speak a word of Latin and counting to eight with your hoofs is appalling. I have pointed out that I’m sure there was a talking horse on the television once (I refer to a program not a horse sat on top of the television) but it was a long time ago when televisions were huge things the size of a radiogram but had a screen the size of an iphone.

The dog has implied that those people who know what a radiogram is, will not know what an iphone is, and those who know what an iphone is, will not understand what a radiogram is ……. Really this is not going well tonight as I still have not told you a dam thing yet. Except that it has been Sunday all day (still) and that it has been cold and windy and it is also dark now. One advantage of the dark according to the dog is that you can’t see any horses running about or causing trouble in cinemas, luckily mum has told the dog he is an IDIOT but he is now blaming the horse. ……………   

  

Look I feel I need to get us focused back on the day’s events and the fact it has been a quiet cold windy Sunday in the UK and not much happened and none of us saw or even wanted to see a horse. OK Captain Flint the Parrot says he wants to see a horse now but its dark and because of that it is dam unlikely we will see one even with a torch, I have asked if a badger will do but apparently it is not the same (well that is stating the obvious I think). The dog now thinks that Steven Spielberg would have got far more publicity if he gone to the cinema with a Badger, but I have told him (the dog not THE NICE Steven Spielberg) that badgers hate cinemas, OK they love popcorn but who is stupid enough to go and watch a movie just so they can get a huge bin sized tub of pop corn …………………………….. AH   

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I seem to have a spammer who wishes to a add a link to a gambling web site in my comments (tut tut). Very easy at present but remember I am ROB Z TOBOR and will show no mercy 

that nice chap Steven Spielberg loves a good movie about Aliens that eat Badgers and Budgerigars, I think?

I was helping Napoleon Beelzebub remove Christmas from his shop, well most of it as the Angel of the Norse is still in the window for the moment. Anyway he has announced that he will be closing Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop next year and moving on. It appears that all in all he is not entirely happy with all the uncertainty of the shops future, and all that being nice to the public etc.

For one the landlord discovered that he has excavated at least seventy five floors of cellar below the building to house all the stock and that it is rather hot down there. Mr Beelzebub has even offered the landlord a permanent room down at the bottom, but he is insisting that the whole cellar complex is filled in. Well that’s not very nice is it?  So come the end of February his shop will close and it will be decorated and returned to normal during March so that the landlord can do with it as he pleases. It appears that he wishes to sell the building, and Napoleon Beelzebub says he has things to do and people to meet (sorry eat) so it is time.

Mum and dad say they plan to become Eco Warriors this coming year which is WELL COOL, I have asked dad if I can help make the weapons, like the steam powered crossbows with laser tipped arrows before we invade the fortress castle of Eco deep in the woods. Mum said IDIOT apparently the dog was not entirely telling me the truth. In fact it turns out the dog also started the rumour about Turkeys being a male chicken, and that his eyes steam up when he drinks hot Vodka (sorry tea). I think the dog is taking revenge for not getting to do interesting things in the diary lately and recons we need to get in the woods and find the Badger Eating Alien Zombies. The dog says that would make a great movie and that nice chap Steven Spielberg loves Aliens that eat Badgers and Budgerigars WHAT????? 

Sooty the Cat hunting things

       

The very nice Steven Spielberg and the fickleness of fame, two front doors and the body parts under the M6 motorway

It appears we have five backdoor keys, three patio door keys two front door keys, one front door two key and a Wood Pigeon in the pear tree HA HA HA Hah hah ah hah hah hah ahahah hahah hahahh OK mum said IDIOT.  As it happens there are also keys to things we can’t find yet (WELL COOL), one must assume they will involve treasure and adventure, which is a fair and logical assumption.

The cats arrived back this morning and are exploring and eating (mainly eating really), and are confined to the house until Wednesday morning in order that they have time to work out that home is home. The dog says it’s all down to the fact that cats can not read or speak Latin, or even use a simple navigational aid such as the sat-nav. I have to admit even Captain Flint the Parrot can use the sat-nav, although as he says they don’t always take you to the right place.

It appears the Great Captain Nessman of the High Seas have set off on another adventure on the high seas. He does this, a blink of the eye and off he goes it is what pirates do. All we can do is hope all is well and he will return soon

Ian the musical Hat Maker is recovering well from his knee operation, but what I want to know is when they replace your old knackered knees with new bionic knees what do they do with the old knees. According to Pirate Pete the Pirate and some of his mates who also have, bits missing they are all used as hardcore under the M6 which is why they are always repairing motorways. Burying the new batch of body parts. The so called spaghetti Junction was nicknamed as such, because it is full of bits of intestine, which ironically, are usually full of spaghetti (it also explains the shape…… as in the junction not the intestine). 

Right back to events here; you will have noticed I mentioned front door two, yes when you open the front door and come in you are met with another front door it even has a door bell, so in order to ring the door bell at the front door you need to open the other front door. Now you are all thinking WHAT, but it is quirky and as we all know quirky is good, in fact quirky is very good and should be the basis of life. I even try to write a quirky diary (now book two of the so far unpublished trilogy) on my quirky keyboard; sorry I mean qwerty keyboard HA HA HA HA HA Hah hah hah ah hhahah hahah haha hah hah hah, mum said IDIOT again. I think I need to find a quirky publisher, and I still haven’t heard from that very nice Steven Spielberg yet, really this fame and fortune lark is well fickle.

Sorry it is not the M6 but well they all look the same really

The Ghost of Steven Spielberg's biography and a Spider deep fried in batter with a sugar cage and caviar

Our world in the far reaches of cyberspace is changing. Its all that Mark Zuckerberg’s fault what with the changes he is making to his empire in the cyber wars with Google+. And then there is the impending house move which will radically effect or porthole between cyberspace and the real world. The dog says this is the way of life, it changes and often we have no control over such things.

Anyway the result of this in school today was the teachers spent most of the morning rubbing the nose of the  bronze bust of Samuel Taylor Coleridge and keeping their fingers crossed which meant I could hardly read anything on the blackboard. It is not easy to write on a blackboard holding chalk with your fingers crossed, I even tried it myself but it said sgs wpituiwt iuwetiitiu  kjiweriuiu34iutiurewt kghjdfahgfahe jgsdjg;g and I couldn’t read that either.

After school when I got home I found The Ghost of Steven Spielberg sitting in the garden playing chess with the dog, The dog plays in Latin and always beats me so I refuse to play now as its £10:00 for each piece lost and winner takes all so it can cost me loads.

The Ghost of Steven Spielberg says he was getting bored in the wood so thought he would come and see us.  He said the Ghost Writer was doing such a good job turning me into a book that he thought he would get him to write his biography. A ghost writing about a ghost rather appealed to The Ghost of Steven Spielberg, the only thing is because he is a ghost he has no money so the Ghost Writer will get no money.  But that’s OK the Ghost Writer is used to getting no money and he would only spend it on food and fuel for the car and heating etc, silly man.

We are still packing stuff up and clearing rubbish for the proposed move of house. It is amazing just how much stuff you can squeeze into a house in twenty years; so I helping a bit before we go off to Big Bill’s Greasy Fur Ball Café for a meal; mum and dad say I have to help clear or sit in the car park tonight until they have eaten, mmmmmmmm that’s NOT FAIR. I have just found some stuff from the last people who lived in the house so we must be getting near the end of it all. Mum just said IDIOT and the dog is rolling about in Hysterics so maybe not.

I do know one thing there’s still a lot of in the house; and that is spiders. We have always liked spiders although the big ones have to watch out or Heavy Harry the Cat and Sooty the Cat will try and eat them if they scurry across the floor. The dog says the cats have no manners or class, and if you must eat a spider it should be deep fried in batter with a sugar cage and caviar, and eaten with a 1989 Romanée-Conti.

The End of the Book. A small Ant and a small red button and . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It is the final day of the school holiday in Wales and the final day in my diary for year one. We have all had a long think about what we should do or say as this is an important moment in time, but in the end we are chilling out with a cup of tea. Helping others with DIY still and things like that. It is a rather perverse thing writing a diary because the more you do the less time you have to write about what you have done.

As my world is linked to yours through the mind of “Old Grumpy” known as the Ghost Writer it is even more complicated to write up the events of the day. And it is getting late again and I have stuff to do and the general things of life like putting stuff away cleaning teeth moving about clearing things away from the day folding clothes or as mum describes it throwing everything in a heap in the middle of the floor.

Anyway this is not want you want to hear is it that nice Mr Steven Spielberg is hardly likely to make the movie of the book, if as the credits slowly roll down or up the screen the last image is that of a pile of clothes being sniffed at by a huge dog muttering in Latin.

Still it could be worse it could be like one of the Lord of the Rings movies where they suddenly end with three odd looking people wondering over a hill saying PHEW THAT WAS CLOSE. Do you think there is anymore popcorn down in the foyer? Mum just said IDIOT and has told me to get on with it

You will notice that I have changed since I started (I don’t mean clothes although I have I think) it is time and getting older and getting more ambitious, and early on many of our international readers did say WHAT a lot. So I am more articulate and easier to understand now so maybe by the end of the next book I might even make sense, although that may not be a good move. I will be adding a thank you to all soon, and tomorrow I will be back in Cyberspace as normal, but readers of the book will now have to go out and buy volume two so that I can continue living a life of abject luxury and decadence OK start living a life of abject luxury and decadence, Mum said IDIOT again.

We are all now watching a small ant wonder across the patio and it appears to have found a small red button saying do not press. This sounds very familiar, ants are curious creatures so we all think he is going to press the button. The dog thinks it will all end it tears but I am not sure the ant has heard or understands the dog because it just pressed the small red button . . . . . . . . Mum just said IDIOT I think she means the ant this time … . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... AH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The new head of the CIA. Travolta Syndrome commonly known as Saturday Night Fever and a blunt shape implement

Mercedes went home today back too the Great Metropolis to as she put it fight the cause. I am always very sceptical of fighting the cause, it has a habit of never quite turning out as planned and if you’re not careful you will end up fighting the cause you are fighting for; and then everyone gets confused. 

As with much lately, things were easier in the past because the cause were a tribe of midgets something akin to Elves or god forbid Hobbits, so fighting the cause was what happened outside the disco on Saturday night before they found an antidote for Travolta Syndrome commonly called Saturday Night Fever. Which lead to an irrational desire to attack smaller people (The cause)?

Mercedes decided we should be blood brothers, although I wish she had warned me first it was a bit of a shock to find my arm being repeatedly stabbed with my own compass set. The dog warned me once never keep a compass once the points blunt and I know why now, still we are blood brothers now and I am obliged to defend her to the end apparently, which is a worry because she likes to leap into the cages of wild animals as part of her interest in dangerous sports.

Anyway she has departed never to be seem again in book one as it will all end tomorrow in a huge anti-climax of expectations when a small ant finds a small red button saying do not press and does what we all would do and presses it.

Sorry I am late tonight we have been out to eat in a gallery with a restaurant run by Miss Elly and I have been eating Spicy Fish Kofte ….. WELL COOL. Me and dad also got involved in some DIY and so our day has been very busy. The dog is looking through the telephone directory for a good publisher sympathetic to large dogs that like maths speak Latin and are wise in the ways of martial arts. He says the Ghost Writer may be good with computers but the chance of him convincing that very nice Steven Spielberg to read my manuscript is three shades of orange, greener than a bee in a jam jar I think its an old Latin saying that has not faired well in translation like many other things. Mum was thinking of making a huge cake tomorrow but has said as its the last page she has decided to put her feet up and chill instead.

Our last Ooooo hang on thing today is we have noticed Miss Fionaski the famous Russian spy has managed to clone herself many times. I bet the CIA were not expecting that to happen no wonder they need a new man in charge of it.

Tunnels. Dust. HTML and Mr Steven Spielberg's ghost

Sorry yesterday was all a bit short and to the point (I have never worked out exactly what the short pointy thing actually is), everything was a bit manic, and in the rush I even forgot my guitar lead so last night although I had an Amp and a guitar I was unable to make lots of noise. Everyone said IDIOT; still I got to drum loads and made a lot of noise with that.

I was going to contact Jim and Mercedes to see when they are planning to turn up. I know it is very soon. But my network connection was not set up so the ghost Writer had a little go at fixing things only he threw a large IT manual at the wall in a strop and said that’s all rubbish. I think he was referring to the manual not the wall although the book did dislodge a brick, which I discovered had a secret tunnel behind it. The dog and Rusty the Robot dog and Pirate Pete said they love secret tunnels behind walls so we all had to go exploring. The Ghost writer was complaining he was due in Brecon soon.

We walked through all these dark low tunnels with cobwebs and pointy metal spikes in the ceiling and shackles and chains on the wall and old sea chests full of skulls and gold and things. In the end we came up against a bricked up door, the dog did offer to do Invisible Chinese Walking through the wall but me Rusty and Pirate Pete thought we would just hit the bricks with a large axe we found. Well there was no deigning we were all very surprised at what we saw once the dust settled down, because we had broken through into the hallway by the front door and mum was there and she said IDIOTS.

Apparently according to dad it was the old stairwell to the original house but is was a very indirect route so got bricked up years ago. Mum made us all rebuild the wall and clear all the dust up, including the Ghost Writer because it was his fault throwing large HTML books about in the first place which caused all the dust. The Ghost Writer said NOT FAIR and he never fixed my network or the one in Brecon so he will be shouted at now.................  Have I done all this before, I cant remember?

Finally Shakespeare, the bloke who wrote stuff (I don’t think that very nice Mr Steven Spielberg has made the movie yet) is up at the castle tonight doing a play. I can only assume it is the ghost of Shakespeare who must be a friend of the ghost of Steven Spielberg who lives in the wood. Unfortunately it is raining so I hope everyone has a brolly.    

The day after Woodstock and TV children

It is the day after the night before, again as it has been before. Lets face it people forget and do these things again although me mum and dad don’t. In my case it’s to do with the fact I still need to do the things that make the day after the night before … the day after; if you get my drift. Probably not I have just read that and it makes no sense.

Me and dad returned to the venue for the party early in the afternoon expecting to find people milling about picking up rubbish and chewing the dried remains of pizza and stuff, (like it was after Woodstock …… dad says).  But no there was no one except two small children watching TV and someone fast to sleep. We are sure the goat eating tarantula spider could not have eaten them all because we would have noticed I think, well probably, well mum would have and maybe the police.

So we collected our things and quietly left the two small children watching TV. Not sure what it was, I think it was one of the children’s satellite TV channels where every thing looks the same and there are lots of precocious smiling all American nicey nice children singing songs and being dramatic in school. As I have loyal American readers I would just like to say I am sure most American children are quite normal like the rest of the world. But children in the rest of the world as getting like TV children and everyone what’s to a celebrity. While on that subject I would just like to point out to the very nice Mr Steven Spielberg that my left side is my photogenic when he starts filming……… Mum just said IDIOT again, I’m going to go and sulk now. Not really but I’m tied so I’m pretending so don’t tell mum. ……… …………. ………….. AH.

Pirates Love Coca-Cola but does Steven Spielberg love Pirates ????

Our corporate sponsor has been told Steven Spielberg does not like pirates so we have had to abandon or trip to Kathmandu and put on nice suits and remove the Jolly Roger. Or else he might not make the block buster movie. Luckily it is hoped that Mr Spielberg may not have noticed the odd pirate link yet so we have set the main brace and be sailing for home port HAR HAR HAR (sorry)

The very nice corporate sponsors who shall remain nameless have lent us a new flag saying Pirates Love Coca-Cola only it has been modified to say Parrots Love Coca-Cola, mum said IDIOTS. Not sure that’s a good move even if the corporate sponsors are anonymous. The dog also wants to know what we plan to do with a two hundred foot inflatable Coca-cola bottle which we were planning to inflate in the centre of Kathmandu. You see what happens when you get involved in sponsorship deals life just gets more complex.  

Apparently there might be a bit of concern about Pirate Pete’s name because it sounds just a bit too pirate; the sponsors have said because he has slightly mad blonde hair (none of us knew that) they have suggested Private Benjamin, Pirate Pete said HAR HAR HAR HAR HARDY HAR HAR HELLO BIG BOY. Mum said IDIOT again but not sure if that’s the sponsors or Pirate Pete and dad has pointed out he has steam powered bionic legs which are not entirely in keeping with the image. So on a show of hands Pirate Pete is going to keep his own name however he is now wearing a I love Steven Spielberg tee shirt with a picture of him drinking an ice cold Coca-Cola and Russian Vodka. 

 We have now been asked to remove the Parrots Love Coca-Cola flag too because parrots and in particular Captain Flint the Parrot has just too many associations with pirates. I think the fact that Captain Flint the Parrot has spent the day drinking rum without adding any Coca-Cola has not helped, that and shouting all the sponsors are ********* ++******---*-*- HAR HAR HAR. 

So the day was spent slowly sailing back towards the harbour on the island in the middle of the lake in the middle of the park in town but this time no one sang So its YO HO HO and a Bottle of Rum a swordfish struggling with a quadratic Sum so that nice Mr Spielberg wont get upset and not make the movie.

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Dad and Pirate Pete have been arguing about if coal powered pirate ships are better than Sail powered pirate ships but the dog said things go better with Coke and has fallen about laughing again along with Rusty the Robot Dog who said I might be steam powered but I also have the wind. They are both rolling about in hysterics now.

Ian the Musical Hat Maker, famous rock star and all round nice chap and Steven Spielberg has fallen asleep on the train

I found out late last might from Auntie Karen that Ian the Musical Hat Maker, famous rock star and all round nice chap has been made Bionic like Pirate Pete. Pirate Pete said they could have a race but mum has explained that although Mr Ian the Musical Hat Maker has a bionic knee he does not have bionic steam powered legs enabling him to run at fifty miles an hour and leap twenty feet in the air.

Although he might find that fun and rather useful on stage the audience always like a rock star who can leap twenty feet in the air. Pirate Pete said maybe he could be a rock star; but mum pointed out he cant sing and is rubbish at playing the guitar …..  again. But after a few moments she said these days I guess that is not quite the obstacle it used to be. Pirate Pete has gone off to write a song now called HAR HAR HAR HARDY HAR HAH. Pirate Pete thinks he might enter the Eurovision song contest next year on the grounds that most of the songs in that are rubbish too.

It has been rather chilly the last few days not sure why, according to the weatherman it is average but because we had all the sun and warm very early normal feels rather cold. I might have to go and visit Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop it is always nice in warm in there. As he says there is nothing quite like a real fire, he likes them so much, sometimes we find him standing in one of the large fireplaces on all the hot ashes and flames toasting marsh mallows and people with a lot of loyalty points. Although he does try to toast them in private as he says it scares the customers away a bit. Its funny about customers because since that last extra bank holiday when that royal got married and we all went ooooooo look a royal and ooooooo look another royal and ooooooo look a; and so on all the people in the town have vanished, well all the visitors have anyway. The dog is a bit upset he likes to lie outside the butcher with a sign saying starving dog my owner is nasty please give generously it works very well and the dog gets all sorts of things and the RSPCA does not come and tell dad off anymore, not after the dog ate the RSPCA mans frozen turkey and cake a few Christmas’s ago.

It was Quantum Mechanics at school again today and I’ve told the teacher that dad taught me how to strip down and repair a supercharged V8 Class 2 dragster running a nitro mix when I was six, but the silly teacher said IDIOT.

Someone has suggested we have another epic adventure because my diary is getting like a diary and that very nice Steven Spielberg has fallen asleep on the train reading it and if he misses his stop he will blame me and throw the manuscript in the waste paper basket. Which will be removed by crows as nesting material and quite frankly this is a lot of work to end as a crows nest. O dear that has started Pirate Pete and Captain Flint the Parrot off now with HAR HAR HAR HARDY HAR HAH; Pirate Pete’s new song and its full of HAR HAR HAR’s.

Trees. Toner. And the giant toad that ate the Queen ......... Time for tea

Miss Fiona left the ghost writer some happy tea bags in Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Victorian Curiosity Shop today, when I say happy tea bags the tea bags were not happy they were tea bags with a happy tea in (still sounds wrong).  Anyway the ghost writer said being happy would only make him grumpy and he is much happier being grumpy instead. The dog said this is a classic case of the Fletcher transitional Paradox…. WHAT?

It was decided by all that the best thing to do was to sit down and have a nice cup of tea and discuss if we should all try the happy tea which we did, not trying it but discussing it over a cup of tea. In the end it was decided that we should have a cup of happy tea but by then we had drunk so much ordinary tea that we thought we had better try it later.

The ghost writer himself then got in a real grump because his printer ran out of toner half way through the bit about the huge toad in Hyde Park trying to eat the Queen during the royal wedding and the masses of loyal subjects shouting and throwing egg whisks at it while Prince whatshisname and the other one drove round and round the palace to distract it. Anyway the printer ran out of ink just then and the ghost writer said he wanted to send a copy of the story to that very nice Steven Spielberg man to read, and if it ended there the whole story would make no sense again. So he had to drive a round trip of 50 miles plus to get some but at least he is not grumpy now and can leave the story again.

Me and the dog spent part of the day in the wood chasing trees? It was the dog’s idea, not mine because I never thought trees could move so catching a tree seemed to me rather easy. But apparently you are only allowed to catch the ones that are moving and the ones not moving are there to hide the moving ones. It got very complex indeed and I never found one but the dog did he showed me the tree but I said it was not moving only the dog said once you catch a moving tree it will stop moving and pretend to be a non moving tree. Apparently it might stay still for years so the dog said it was not worth waiting to see it move and anyway by then I was well exhausted from all the running about chasing trees. When I told mum what we had been doing she threw the Armadillo toaster at the dog and said IDIOT but I don’t know why.

16th feb 2011 and all is very quiet in Mid-Wales

A quiet day today, I think it is to do with the time of year as it is not quite spring yet so it is sort of cold and sort of wet and sort of grey and because everyone has not been well we are all sort of weak and flimsy and our brains have sort of stopped

The dog for some reason best know to himself decided to take up knitting today; when I got home from school it had knitted a scarf with five arms and 3 built in gloves. I did say that seemed a bit odd but the dog said he has four legs and a tail and he only wears three gloves because he likes to keep his front left paw free to write and make rude gesturers at the bus drivers.  Mum said he shouldn’t make rude gestures at bus drivers but the dog said they won’t allow him upstairs anymore, and he does not think it’s fair.  I did try and point out that the buses they use now don’t have an upstairs but the dog recons that’s a rubbish excuse.  Because Pirate Pete now has steam powered bionic legs and can run at fifty miles an hour. The dog has got him waiting at bus stops and when the bus stops he tells the driver he is going to wait for the next bus, then when the bus drives off he runs ahead to the next bus stop and confuses the bus driver when the bus arrives at that stop, One bus driver has banned Pirate Pete but then as Pirate Pete says he does not actually get on the bus. 

You can tell it is quiet today because I am writing about the dog knitting and a pirate standing at bus stops.  I bet you are all thinking O no I am having to read about a dog knitting and a pirate waiting at a bus stop, when it would be so much more exciting if the dog was waiting for a bus and the pirate was knitting. I have just asked Pirate Pete what he would knit if he could knit, he said a treasure map but mum said IDIOT it would be much better to make a tapestry. Pirate Pete is really pleased now he says it’s the first time mum has called him an idiot, and it makes him feel like one of the family. Mum has just said IDIOT again but has given him a lollypop.

I am still not sure about this bloggggggg thing but will no doubt sort it in the end