Almost True and Interesting Facts for Parties

The other day on Twitter an interesting idea was put forward which having nothing else in my mind I will put to the test. It was those chaps at ShrinkingShrimps (sorry SinkingShip) who are to blame, they happen to mention interesting facts and whether it mattered if they were real. Well this is a very good point and one that is ideally suited to the internet where truth and reality are sometimes a bit grey to say the least.

Therefore I thought maybe I should supply my trusty followers with some interesting facts that sound true which they can use at parties, and when quizzed about them they can turn round and say hand on heart . . . . . Well I read it on the internet from a reliable source. . . .  OK I’m sort of reliable. So I will now attempt to make up entirely plausible interesting facts that might or might not be real bearing in mind I am making them up as I go and have no plans to check anything.

OK here goes

Only 15% of all true facts published on the internet are in fact true

Elvis was afraid of toads

The European Swift never eats blue insects

The top surface area of all aeroplane wings is always 1.0754 times larger than the surface area of the bottom of the wing regardless of size or shape.

Putting the hard drive of your computer upside-down in your freezer for 12 hours will wipe all the data

Because Chinese text is based on images it is impossible to be dyslexic in Chinese.

The Russian Black Moth is the only Moth or butterfly in the world than can flap its wings at different speeds at the same time

Gold is the only precious metal that has been detected on another planet from here on Earth

Monkeys never share apples

Zero is the only number that has been mathematically proved not to exist.

The Empire State building is shrinking by half an inch a year and in theory will only be a third of its present height in 250,000 years time.

A humming bird can react 1000 times faster that a human to a sudden movement

The entire volume of water in the sea rotates round the world slowly once every twenty five years

If you pass a tiny electrical charge though the body of a dead spider within the first twenty four hours of dying it will spin a new web.

Up until 1923 all paper was slightly radioactive.

98% of all humans have legs that are slightly different lengths, this is due to the curvature and rotation of the Earth and is thought to be an evolutionary development to stop us going round in circles.

Well that’s it that is a short list of facts that may or may not be of interest . . . Why not try making up your own set of facts and then we can create Sillypedia the Oracle of all dodgy facts. . . . Hey that sounds like it’s an idea with legs but I'm lazy, and or Mad

What is the Truth about Jeremy Clarkson, Top Gear and the Fracas . . .Big Questions Answered

Here in Britain in the last couple of days the Big Question has been . . .  What did Top Gear’s Jeremy Clarkson do, what is the nature of the so called Fracas . . . .  Some of you who are not from Britain will probably know the name and that he is one of the co-presenters of BBC2’s rather popular show Top Gear, a rather light hearted motoring program.  Here in Britain he is a bit like Marmite he is a love him or hate him character for many reasons.

Now before I progress I need to point out that I am a rather left wing chap politically and a firm believer in equality irrespective of gender colour nationality wealth or disability. We should all have the same opportunities in life where possible to achieve our goals and do the things we wish to do.  I know I am an idealist because even the so called left wing counties in the world are far from equal; in fact some are worse than the so called Decadent West.

This brings us back to Mr Jeremy Clarkson who we are told is rather/very right wing chap politically. As I do not know him in person I can only be guided by the media. You see over the years he has reputedly said some terrible things, many of them on the very popular Top Gear. Now I watch this program, I like it, and find it rather entertaining and I have heard some of the comments and the like that have made the news. And to me as a lefty idealist he has always appeared to be a bit devilish rather than racist or sexist, he just likes to have a little dig at the modern paranoia for political correctness.  He is a very good motoring journalist and does a brilliant job on Top Gear, it is not his fault that this has made him very rich, and rich folk tend to be right wing. I suspect he is also something a Prima Dona after a rather charmed life as a celebrity but to me he has a dry wit, a way with words and is a great driver (or appears to be on the show). 

So what has brought us to the suspension of Top Gear and Jeremy Clarkson well it appears after a long day of filming the crew arrived back at their hotel at 10pm to a cold buffet. This led Mr Clarkson to let rip verbally at one of the producers and we are told man handle him a bit (exact details are a bit grey). Well I suspect he was tired and hungry and probably stressed, he is almost as old as me, OK a bit younger, but as you get older you need a decent meal at some point in the day. And its no good thinking he is a TV celeb so its all pink champagne and letting the fans lick his boots, he works like the rest of us, yes it’s a great job (OK I don’t really work a lot these days) but a job is a job and after a long day where you are expecting a meal at a hotel you really should get it.

Just imagine a group of miners arriving back at the surface after a long dayin the mine to be told the canteen is serving a cold salad, would they smile and say Oooooooo YUM. . . . I think not.

So BBC if you read this (which is unlikely as I am merely a member of the public with idealist left wing tendencies) just get everyone to say sorry to each other shake hands and get Top Gear back on the TV and Mr Clarkson back driving round that track telling us that This car steers like a python covered in grease on a frozen pond in Norwich on a cold wet Sunday while being watched by nuns . . . Oooo hang on you WOULDN'T get nuns in Norwich.

Letters of complain, demanding the sacking of Mr C the following week because of the implications of no nuns in Norwich. 

An Admission of a Terrible Error of Judgement

Hello everyone it is I, I am here again, I know I should be posting everyday but I am doing other things and they do get in the way of messing about in cyberspace writing a combination of gibberish, diary and the answers to all those very very important Big Questions . So I am here to tell you all of a terrible mistake I made the other day, well the day before yesterday to be more precise. The reason I did not write of this terrible mistake yesterday is because I was still recovering from the stress that the terrible error inflicted upon my mind and body.

Well I can here folk are starting to wonder exactly what sort of terrible mistake Rob Z Tobor could make, because lets face it, it is not something that folk would perceive me of possibly ever doing.  Mistakes are not something I do (OK I do loads of them but never admit it. . . . . . . DAMN I should have not said that). Anyway I think it is about time to reveal all . . .  you see my terrible error was to go to IKEA during half term.  Well it just never crossed my mind as we travelled along the M54 and down the M6 towards the land of many things that folk can’t pronounce. Not even as we battled along a grid locked motorway did the penny drop (yes it’s another saying that is stupid). No it was only as we arrived and saw the massed hoards of families who had thought . . . . . . I know its half term lets take the kids to IKEA, that’s a cheap day out (cheap day out it is not, with their cunning ways of making folk spend all their money). Anyway it was hell in there like being in a Hornets nest full of Hornets that have just been poked with a pointy stick.   

We did get what we wanted and were not tempted by all those little things they line up for one or two pounds along the way so that folk find they have spent five hundred pounds in total and have a trolley full of unpronounceable stuff they don’t need. And screaming kids who have just thrown up a load of half decomposed Swedish meal balls over themselves and a cage full of cheap Panda’s at the checkout.      

 

It was serious hell I hate it when a shop is full the masses massing to attach each other, and the only light relieve was a Chinese woman who was giving a small child a good telling off in Chinese. It seems odd to me that the Chinese would shop in IKEA as most of the stuff IKEA sells comes from China. 

Of course the short version on this particular post is . . . . . . . I went to IKEA, it was Hell. . . . . .  But this is a blog not Twitter, and it does explain to some degree why I am not good at Twitter, it has no soul I mean . . . . I went to IKEA, it was Hell . . .  where is the romance in just saying that.



OOOOOooooooooo I am up to the Letter K on the A to Z and its looking very good so far. . . Mad but good.

You know who and the dilemma of popularity

As many of you will know (I say many I mean almost no one), I have been making up Harry Potter Halloween Poetry as a bit of a jolly before I post my Harry Potter Halloween Spooky story at the end of the month.  We are old mates from way back from the days when Harry was knee high to a grasshopper, he has never let me play with his wand since (if anyone sniggers or thinks rude thoughts then I suggest you go and stand in the corner). But of course he was allowed to head off into Hogwarts to become a wizard and become the hero to a whole generation through books films and various other media and the like. Where as I vanished into a small dark corner in the huge voids of cyberspace living on cake and hot chocolate and waving pointy sticks at Zombies and Seagulls, you see I am not a wizard.

So I have written several poems now about my old mate on my blog and it has had a rather interesting and profound effect, one I was not expecting. Now people think I write all sorts of mad stuff in a random fashion, but all is not what is seems, you see I use guile and cunning in an attempt to help each post stand some chance of being found by folk searching Google. Lets face it if I am heading towards the one million words mark it would be nice if it was read by as many as possible, although the small hardy group here do keep me going, and when that nice Mr Spielberg makes the film they will all get a mention and sneaky parts in the film like what’s his name did. . .  Alfred Hitchcock. 

Anyway back to the point, since I started my Harry Potter based theme it appears that pageviews on my blog have plummeted like a large rook (sorry rock). Yes rooks do sometimes plummet but not as well as rocks.  SO why has this happened. Have I lost my touch, are my witty words now just boring, has my typing finally completely fallen apart, am I a grumpy bloke lost in the dark of cyberspace and nobody cares. . . . Well clearly NO. This means it must be a Potter based effect and he is much less popular that I anticipated in fact he is now less popular than my first theory about the rise of the World Social Economic Structures and their connection with the insect colonies of the world.

This means that Harry Potter must be very unpopular indeed. . . It’s a shock for me but when I phone him up later in his posh house dragging him away from his ice cool drink by his swimming pool he is going to be gutted. I can imagine he will be in contact with that Sue Townsend (sorry JK Rowling) sharpish suggesting a new book and film where he returns to Hogwarts in order to restore faith after the incident with the cat and the large jug (AH DAMN that’s a spoiler from my Halloween story). . . . . .

Anyway as I have said it is a terrible shock that poor all Harry Potter is so unpopular and I feel it would be bad of me to linger on this point . . . . the one about Harry Potter being less popular than World Economics so I will go and think about a poem on a far more popular subject such as maybe a cat and an owl in a pea green sailing vessel with a plentiful supply of money and honey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

AH DAMN

Scottish Independence . . Latest Poll (sorry pole) points to a surprise.

I was looking at the BBC News on the internet catching up with the world news and stuff and just happen to notice that it appears if Scotland becomes independent it will move the geographic centre (the balancing point) of the UK to just a few miles away. Well when I say a few I mean about 30-ish miles, well that is quite exciting, sort of, and it would be really good to be the middle of something. So I would like to propose that maybe the rest of the UK could give Scotland just enough of Northern England to make my house the exact centre.  I would then be able to erect a thing on a long pole with pointy bits that pointed at all the places around the UK saying things like the sea 200 miles or London 200 miles or Manchester 200 miles or Scotland 200 Miles or even France 200 miles or the USA 200 miles.  You will notice that everything would be exactly the same distance away, but that is one of the really cool things about being exactly in the middle of everything. Everything is exactly the same distance from you or you can’t be in the middle.

It is a little know fact that ancient man built Stonehenge in order that they would know where the middle was, it is why many stone circles are round as finding the middle of a round thing is far easier as the accent Britain’s did not have GPS or theodolites and survey equipment, they were far more dependant on the instincts of goats.

Anyway I would like to pledge right now that in the event of a YES vote for Scottish Independence and a small concession where the rest of the UK hand over a bit of the North of England, (A goodwill gesture). That I Rob Z Tobor will build a big tall pointy pole thing to point at places and let folk know everywhere is 200 miles away.  As always it is good to find the Middle Ground (the Balancing Point) as defined by the trained goats of the Ancient Britain’s. 

Professor Brian Cox, the Muddy hole and the Haynes Zombie Survival Owners Manual

As yesterday was my birthday it means that today I am an entire year older than I was yesterday, now that’s a lot but its OK because as we all know now by eating Bacon Butty’s I have proved conclusively that I will live to the approximate age of 3489.2 years old.  OK it may not be conclusive because lots of folk here have said my maths was rubbish and it was like trying to understand Einstein written in Chinese backwards while riding a unicycle blindfolded. 

As a special Birthday treat I have been allowed outside to dig holes and hunt for Zombies, this is always a good way to pass the day, sliding down the muddy banks while some sort of monster or the like snarls at you. All I can say is never enter a muddy hole without a pointy stick, interestingly this is not  a useful tip I have seen in the Haynes Zombie Survival  Owners Manual (a grand book) that I received yesterday as a present from Mr F.  I have a feeling the reason it is not mentioned may be to do with the fact I spend more time in muddy holes that the average chap. It was never my intention in life for this to happen, but life is like that, you look into the future, see a mountain to climb, set off on your quest head help high full of ambition and enthusiasm and then all of a sudden you slip into a muddy hole.  Anyway I quite like them now they are bright warm cosy places (sorry I mean cold dark wet places), a small and interesting mini world of things (worms).

While I was sliding about in the muddy hole fending off Zombies and the like I noticed that in real life Zombies are a little less stereotypical in appearance than many publications would have you believe.  And I am still not sure if the one with a bolt through his neck was a Zombie or not, but he was definitely not friendly and said he wanted to eat Brian’s. . . so I was able to send him on his way a bit confused, but happy with the instructions to get to Brian’s house. I sent him to see that nice Professor Brian Cox, he is always doing experiments with electricity and the like on folk. I’m sure he will be interested in a chap (monster) with his head held on with a bolt. . . . . . . . . 

  

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Diaries and other words

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

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

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

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

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

WHAT DID YOU SAY

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

AH DAMN. . . .

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

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

Commonwealth Games and Flower Shows

DAMN I forgot about Rod Stewart, I am not really a great fan of the man but I will say that at the opening ceremony of the Glasgow Commonwealth Games he did a much better job of it that Paul McCartney did at the Olympics. And I was particularly excited by the array of giant Tunnocks Tea Cakes as they ran about all over Celtic Park.  Actually what I thought interesting about that was the rest of the world will not have a clue what a Tunnocks Tea cake is.

OK I am a bit behind as I appear to be busy doing things although not things like making huge statues or solving fundamental mathematical issues, the nearest I am to that is helping move stuff for the local village flower show where flowers are put in the church and folk get tea and sandwiches in the village hall. It is not really me but I was sort of volunteered so being foolhardy and macho I have moved tables and pointed at stuff to help.

Last night we went for a curry with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane and the day before we had afternoon tea with Mr Ian the Musical Hat Maker and rock star and Auntie Karen where we discussed many many important things of importance.

Anyway during the Commonwealth games it is important that Scotsmen look like Scotsmen as everyone else is probably an alien. Although I have not seen many aliens yet but this is due to being busy moving things and pointing in a macho way at other things relating to a flower show.

How is a chap meant to be a wild scary Celtic warrior when I am now associated with flowers? 

Oooooooo and guess where I am just about to go to . . . . . . yes the village flower show. . . . . . . . 

Wish me luck . . . . . Tally Ho.

   

The Opening Ceremony of the Glasgow Commonwealth Games

Tonight sees the opening ceremony of the Glasgow Commonwealth Games, and it is hard to predict what sort of things we will see. OK yes we will see endless Athletes parade into the stadium waving and holding flags, in a short of Hey we are not aliens, we are from the Billybotan islands off Papua New Guinea. I know no one knows where that is and that is all part of the cunning trick used by the alien invaders.

Then it all kicks off with Commonwealth sort of based stuff, well when I say stuff I refer to the good bits not the bad bits from the past when folk did some seriously rotten things.

After that there will be much oooooing and Aahhhhing as Scotsmen leap about in kilts and huge inflatable Deep Fried Haggis float above the masses dressed in tartan and waving pointy sticks at the English (that’s the Scots not the inflatable Haggis) .

In fact the Scots are a friendly bunch and will be incredibly friendly to everyone saying things like You are my best mate, you are, or do you want another iron Bru and whisky, I’ve put a goldfish in it you’ll love it.

And there will be surprise visits as celebrity Scotsmen such as Sean Connery. . . Billy Connolly and the Krankies turn up . . . . . . Actually I think my invite may have got lost in the post, I can’t see them starting without sending a helicopter to get me.

Then there will be fireworks and possibly our first sighting of the huge Alien mother Spacecraft before the whole show winds down. Finally ending with free fish suppers all round and a fight (Glasgow is famous for the Glasgow Kiss so a fight is important). Then the Scots will shout   Yer bum’s oot the windae at the English and everyone starts fighting again

2014 Brazilian World Cup . . . Netherlands v Brazil, The Wicker Man. . . And the villagers painting expedition

In our little village community today it was paint day when we all rallied round and headed off to the Village Hall armed with paint brushes and painted. Well that was sort of the plan only it was a lovely sunny day and when we arrived there was just one other person. But we were closely followed by someone else who had arrived to do running repairs on the building; when I say running I do not mean he was running it is one of those silly saying and refers to the building . . . Not that it was running either. So the four (well three) of us started painting the entrance hall as our numbers were a bit less than anticipated. After a while we then lost one of our painters as they had to go off elsewhere and then after a bit longer we lost the repair man as he had to do stuff and also has to get up at 2.00am in the morning to do other stuff. I wonder what sort of stuff a man in a striped T-shirt, wearing a mask, and carrying a large crowbar does at 2.00am. . . . .  And why is a crowbar called a crowbar is it designed to dislodge crows from crevices where they have become stuck?

 So we were then down to two painters which was not exactly what was planned so once the entrance hallway was done we decided that was it, and the other jobs would have to wait. I’m sure the locals will turn up on mass soon enough, bearing pointy sticks, pitch folks and fiery torches looking for an unsuspecting passer by to tie into the Wicker Man before feasting and painting the men’s and ladies toilets. 

There are rituals and funny ways in the country and it does not do to question the reasoning at times, it is always best to cheer and join in. Unless of course you are an unsuspecting passer by walking the Shropshire Way and find yourself tied inside a Wicker Man while folk prod you with pointy sticks and set fire to the large bonfire the Wicker Man is on top of. 

Anyway that was what I did today . . . . . . . . I was wondering if it would help the Netherland football team (My Disheartened Androids) if I tied an unsuspecting passer by into a Wicker footballer and set fire to him. I know it’s too late for the final and my chance to rule the world but at least they would cheer up if they beat Brazil seven one like those German Androids. . .    

Demonic Demons seen in Brecon

That Hugh Jackman is rubbish with his rusty nails and grumpy face

Not like Joan Hackman she is great? 

You go all the way to Brecon as part of the Rapid Reaction Zombie Defence Force armed with pointy sticks and a cheery song only to find its not Zombies but Demonic Demons summoned up by rouge (sorry rogue) Druids for reasons that are too difficult to explain as they are all in Welsh.

Anyway the point is the Rapid Reaction Zombie Defence Force doesn’t deal with Demonic Demons that is the specialist area of Demon-Rod with their rather devilish coloured vans and pressure horses (sorry hoses); Demonic Demons hate water.

I would write more, but it is late and it has been yet another long day. Brecon is a fair distance to go for the wrong kind of scary beast. . . Folk really should buy the . . . . .  AaaauuuuggghhhHHH  Zombie Guide Book  . . . . . . Available as soon as I write it both as a hardcover or paperback. CD included giving amazing details of feet claws and forked tongues.  The ideal gift for Christmas or Fathers Day.

OK I better go it's late   

C is for the Curious Case of the Computer Update

Late last night myself and Mr Jones dressed up in camouflage armed ourselves with pointy sticks and a selection of large blue blocks that Mr Jones said were his secret weapon and ventured out into the night to defend Earth from the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7. Mr Jones said if we could catch Big Boris and entice him into eating some of the blue blocks then it was game over.  Of course the best laid plans of mice and men or should I say RATs (as in Radical Abstract Thinkers) and men never go to plan (it is another stupid saying), and the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 did not turn up there was not a single light anywhere to be seen. Mr Jones said it was very annoying and also extremely curious indeed.

On the subject of curious things, what did happen last night which most folk would not think about much was my trusty old PC did a Windows Update. OK I can hear you all type, SO WHAT, but this old PC runs Windows XP the now dead operating system which I recently rallied round to support with my We Love XP campaign . . . . Keep Windows XP Undead. . . . 

I had started to think my efforts were scratching uselessly at the Big Gates (affectionately nick named Bill) of the huge Microsoft corporate body, but maybe not. Could it be that a member of the almost unheard of elitist Keep Windows XP Undead Gorilla Movement has gnawed their way through the skirting boards unseen and in the best tradition of Moles now sits at the heart of the Microsoft organisation?  Sticking their head above ground to create another little mound for us to scoop up before vanishing back underground to hide in the labyrinth of dark tunnels (Microsoft really should spend more money on lighting up those corridors.

 Of course if the elitist member of the Keep Windows XP Undead Gorilla Movement sticks his head above ground for too long folk will say things like . . . . . . . . .  What is Brian from Software Development doing eating the skirting boards . . . . . .and . . . . . . O my god have you seen the large deposit he has left on the lawn. You don’t think maybe he has turned into one of those Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7.

Anyway this is long enough now for a daily diary entry so I will go leaving you with the following questions.

Is Brian one of the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 rather than a Mole? . . . . . They look similar

Is Windows XP still one of the Undead?  . . . . . . . . (WELL COOL)

Will Big Boris return tonight?

Why did a man called Mr Gates call his operating system Windows, does he have a buildings fetish? 

Why would some mad bloke start working his way through the Alphabet all over again? 

Sticks. Parrots, Aliens and Astronauts

I was in a Tough Harry’s Supermarket today getting a few things I needed, none of us like these places but in order to live, we are now doomed to having to enter their vast corridors of stuff that confuses and bewilders folk.  Particularly us chaps, we are not genetically designed to deal with shelves full of stuff, lets face it most chaps are not capable of putting a shelf up so as the old saying goes. . . . . . If man was meant to cope with shelves full of stuff, God would have made man capable of making shelves . . . . . .

But as I wandered up and down I came across a product that I thought was a piece of shear genius, one so brilliant I wish I had thought of it myself, it was a stick . . . . . . . . . . .  OK yes, I can hear the long pause as you think  . . . . . A STICK? . . . . .   Not a useful pointy stick to poke at folk or Zombies, but a bit of branch from a tree, it even says a genuine natural branch made from wood on it.  You see it is sold in the pet section and is aimed at the little old ladies who own Budgerigars; as birdcages general have plain old doweling. So in order to cheer their pet budgerigars or the like up some clever person is selling genuine looking branches of trees made out of the branches of trees, this is genius. There is an old saying that goes . . . . . . Money does not trees . . . . .  Well it shows that in fact it does.

Tough Harry’s Supermarket does have one other thing going for it that would make selling these sticks easier, they have Sam the Parrot who can spot a little old lady one hundred yards away and will shout at her as she passes. . . Ooooo if only I had a really natural looking stick to sit on . . . . .  Everyone round these parts loves Sam the Parrot and little old ladies are suckers for a sob story told by a parrot; anyway these sticks cost three pounds each and are a bargain at half the price (or do I mean twice)…….

Did you know that both Aliens and Astronaughts (sorry astronauts) keep complaining they need more space . . . . . . . . . AH AH H HAHHAH AH HA HAH HA HAH AH HAH AH Hha ha ha hahah ah ahahahahah ha ha aha ha . . . . WHAT? I hear you type again . . . . . .Well I was sat in a car earlier and only had a tiny scrap of paper and a dodgy pen so was rather limited in what I could draw, and a stick seemed a bit boring. . . . . 

Mr M, Pointy Sticks and the art of remaining still.

It has been a wet cold day and time is all a bit of a blur at present due to visiting Mr M, our old friend. However it is important to visit Mr M as he is sort of on limited time even if he is doing a good job of hanging on in there and sort of poking at the gods with a pointy stick, I suspect that the gods may at some stage when he goes to see them mutter about pointy sticks, and confiscate any he may take with him. I am not good with religion in general but don’t think any of the main stream religions of any country deal with pointy sticks in any great detail, I think at sometime I will need to draw  Pointstickius the Micro God of Pointy Sticks. Anyway we will be off to see Mr M shortly so I am typing super fast to finish my diary entry or at least as much as I can which is why I suspect it may make no sense what so ever.

The Ghost Writer has been rather busy as he had to go to his grey office today and do things although he did say that by hiding in a dark corner and remaining very still he did manage to get through the day without too many problems. He says the art of remaining still in a dark space in the office is a skill most people need to survive work and yet no one ever teaches it at school anymore.  In the old days it was taught subtlety in the playground to children and was called Hide and Seek rather than Work Avoidance Skills or WAS after the standard answer to the question from the boss. . . . . . . Where have you been . . . . .  where we say in a slightly panicky way I was, was, was mmmmmmmmmmm posting an Armadilo to the design department.

OK we have returned from Mr M, he looked a little better than last night which was good but alas it does not mean he is getting better just that he is still comfortable and the old brain cells are still in working order.  As I said yesterday (I think) it is a funny old world and I must say there are times when you feel that if you could poke someone with a pointy stick (obviously not Mr M) it might just help a bit. 

The Ritual Feast of Autumn and the Evolutionary Development of the Pointy Stick.

Today has seen two major events to write about, well when I say major I am not referring to world events because at this point in time I have not heard the news today, so will assume that most world events are continuing as predicted (some good, lots of bad, a few happy and lots of sad)……..

No these events are in world terms Micro Events, another good reason for Micro Gods, they are more attuned to the smaller events of the individual. The first was the evolutionary development of the pointy stick; I have warned of such things in my diary in the past and how it can all end in atomic bombs and angry politicians. But this was an evolutionary development for the greater good of man. I have developed a pointy stick saw, a device for trimming trees and small branches out of the reach of mankind.

I have long thought that there is a market for a lightweight telescopic device that you could attach a wood saw or other such items to, in order to reach places that the human arm can not, but I am not aware of anything suitable. Maybe I should go on that Dragons Den TV show and show them my new pointy stick saw. I was able to use my pointy stick saw to trim a few branches that needed trimming that were hanging beyond the Zombie defence system, there is always the worry that one day Zombies will learn to climb trees or scurry about in ventilation shafts.  What ever happened to that Mr Shaft bloke he was the Mr COOL of his day before that annoying Harry Potter chap turned up.

The second major (Micro) event of the day was the Ritual Feast of Autumn where were all celebrate the success of growing our winter supply of food by having a huge feast and eating it all. . . . . . . . These events take place across Britain about now (well in rural communities anyway) and are one of the reasons for the development of the supermarket, since folk discovered they have eaten their entire supply of winter food in a celebratory feast.  Iron age man worked hard at avoiding this happening year on year by shutting down all the stone circles, but of course by then the convenience of convenience food and the rise of the supermarket had taken hold. Lets face it us humans would much rather pop into a nice store and buy stuff than all the agro of chasing a buffalo across a field with a pointy stick, even the revolutionary pointy stick saw…..

Ooooooo Yes Mr S. and Mrs I. came and helped eat all the food, which was good, and Mr S also helped me to establish North, apparently Northern Zombies are more formidable than those down South.  We now plan to chill and do the Sunday things of modern life, although it’s too late to go to IKEA.

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Zombies, the Incident of Politically Incorrectness and fish

Today was a quietish day all in all; it started with me tinkering with a moving mirror that did not swivel on its motorized swivel mechanism. It had been modified the other day to reduce a strange humming noise it made when it moved fast and in the process meant that it could not move slowly, it is useful that it moves slowly as well as fast. So there I was with a small poking device (a  pointy knife) poking away at part of the modification until it all worked as it should. 

Now I hear you all typing . . . . WHAT? (again) muttering things like, what is he on about this time, but a moveable mirror device is useful if you are being followed by Zombies and the like. I say like because I noticed that a certain supermarket chain has had to remove non PC (that’s Politically Correct rather than Personal Computer) Halloween outfits from their stores. Although I understand the reasoning (Silly twits at the superstore) but I do wonder if Halloween is really Politically Correct in the first place. Just think, life is hard enough if you are a Zombie, but just imagine how difficult it would be to wander about scaring little old ladies in the middle of the night while trying to remain Politically Correct. It is not in the nature of Zombies to apologize to a little old lady who has just had a heart attack, they are more inclined to eat her brain and groan a lot without a simple awfully sorry about that, do you mind If I sort of nibble your brain a bit.  Zombies have no manners.

Anyway they don’t understand mirrors and so a mirror that you can adjust to keep an eye out for them approaching is really useful as an early warning device because there is no tap on the shoulder, gentle cough and an excuse me sir, oooooo no.

 I also opened up a box of electronic bits looking for a small bios battery only to find the device does not have one . . . DAMN still it was worth a look. So the said device is all back in one piece again, although I did poke about with the small poking device (a pointy knife) well it might have helped a bit, although it didn’t

And I cut down two branches of a small tree that needed to be pruned  it was a Hazel tree and we all know what Hazel is particularly useful for besides making small fish . . . . . .Yes Pointy Sticks  . . . . . . . . . . .

Even small fish have their Plaice  . . . . . .. . . . . HAH HAH H HAH HAH AHhah ah ha hah ha hah ah ha hah hah ha ha hah ah hha hah ha ha hah ha ha ha ha ha.  

Hospitals, Peacocks and Mr M

Today turned into two hospital trips, the first of which was to look at knees on a fancy machine, it was interesting as there was a peacock striding about guarding the main entrance. It seems that peacocks are moving into hospital security and are undercutting the opposition by working for almost nothing scratching out a living as and where they can, although eating the slower patients has got the odd one into trouble. Then when we arrived in the main X ray department they were practicing (the x ray folk not the peacocks) on a small and rather bouncy dog which was somewhat a surprise.  But apparently Elvis was not a rather well known singer who has been living on the moon for some time but a small hound dog; and nothing but a hound dog. . . . HAHAHH HAH hah ah ha haha h ha hha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ha 

Anyway after we left this hospital we then went off to see Mr M at another hospital and managed to scrap a meal together by hunting under the car seats for leftovers from bygone trips into the unknown. This was because we were very early but due to a time and distance paradox going elsewhere was to put it bluntly futile….. We did have some hospital tea which was OK which was a shock although we were the only ones in the café and folk did look and shake their heads whispering things like don’t eat the pies, they might contain  . . . . . left-over bits… I quite like left over’s but not bits of left over Boris.

Mr M looked a bit better than we thought he might, and was quite chatty and rather explicit about certain things which I have added to my bucket list of things not to do before I die, one of which may involve a bucket. And Mr M was also a bit concerned about his feet, he was adamant that he only used to have the two and they were not those of a large eagle. And despite the advantages of catching small rodents, the disadvantage of ruining his socks and ripping all the sheets meant on the whole he would prefer his own feet back.

So we then made it back home just in time to decide we did not have time to do a great deal, so I have written my diary entry and armed myself with a pointy stick just in case a delirious patient from a hospital swoops down on me with his huge talons and tries to eat me after a long spell of hospital food….. 

The absurdity of violence and more pointy sticks

Today has been one of those days when many folk are reflecting on the absurdity of trying to get your own way using aggression and violence against the masses. Even if you do manage to achieve your intended goal, the one thing you can be sure of is that the masses will not be behind you in spirit, at best you will keep them suppressed until you become weak enough for them to turn the violence back on you.  Resulting in a rather short lived period of grandeur and posh living inspecting your forces and polishing weapons, while maybe wearing a general’s hat and lots of medals.  

Yes you see if you wish to build a long lasting empire it can only be done with the support of the masses and folk need to like you. I know this is a bit of a problem because one thing humans are not good at is a good rational discussion about who is right (as it happens its me) and in no time at all it’s all guns rockets and terrorism and the death of many. This happens because terrorists think they are right, but they are not . . . .  Generals think they are right, but they are not, Politicians think they are right, but they are not . . . . . . The Religious leaders think they are right, but they are not.  In fact we all think we are right . . . but we are not, well not quite all, as it is clear I know I am wrong and therefore am right…..

If we must turn to violence then all weapons should be banned except the pointy stick and then it should be limited to lightly poking folk in an irritating way to annoy them, there is no need to be more aggressive than this, you will find even the grandest politician or leader will soon come round if he is being lightly jabbed repeatedly with a pointy stick. And the great advantage to this is no one gets hurt (just irritated somewhat) and the world will be a better place with less death and destruction and no wars. Let’s face it how long can two armies jab at each other in an irritating way with pointy sticks without telling each other it is all a bit silly and going home again.   

However as we are human someone will want a pointier pointy stick or a longer pointy stick and before you know it we will be right back where we started. What we need is a new imaginative slightly eccentric leader, and luckily I am available.   

The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor . . . . .VOLUME FOUR . . . . And Pointy Sticks

My desk lamp has just exploded so I am typing in the gloom, and as many of you know, although to be fair kindly don’t say anything about it, my typing is rubbish…. So typing in the dark is going to be tough…

I have slightly more time today so today is the first day of The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor   . . . . .VOLUME FOUR . . . . . . A bit late, but yes it has officially started today.

Now of course I normally start my diary with my return to school, but I have been back a week now and much has happened. You see I’m no fool I am doing what that Harry Potter did make sure something happens at school, otherwise the nice Mr Spielberg will fall asleep and then that will be the end of the movie deal…… OK right yes . . . .  Esmeralda has become Head Girl after persuading the governors with a pointy stick that it was an excellent idea, as no one is going to argue with her.  For some reason Esmeralda with a pointy stick seems to be far scarier than I am, in fact she is far scarier even without the pointy stick.

In order to avoid the mistake of last year where I was made head boy my name was removed entirely from the list of pupils this year, however it was accidently added to the list of teachers, so this year I am a budding student teacher specializing in Obscure Irrational Theories about the Universe (OIT as it is known) and Zombie Self Defence classes. I say Zombie Self Defence classes this does not mean I am teaching Zombies despite what the headmaster says, but I am teaching pupils to defend themselves against such beasts. As it happens I have a diploma in Zombiology after writing my thesis. . . . The Urban Zombie in the Modern Superstore.  The Head Master who everyone thought would shout about my part time teaching post was in fact quite pleased but only because I do not get paid because I am still technically a pupil . . . . . . DAMN.

Anyway I have managed to get the pointy stick officially added to the official school uniform now,  well I say I, as it happens Esmeralda persuaded the governors after a short meeting where she demonstrated the pointy sticks qualities……

Ooooooo  yes I bought some magic beans today, waved at a refrigerator and gave the Ghost Writer and Mrs Ghost Writer directions on the best and quickest way to get around a large building with many corridors with many people in them who are mainly lost, they apparently are still using my early map with the small errors. It appears that the Ghost Writer said I’m an IDIOT after they arrived in the boiler room late this afternoon. . . . .  

Anyway welcome to Volume Four (The Return of the Pointy Stick).

Zombie Powder and Pointy Sticks

Today was a bit like the battle with the Wasps only bigger and with pointy sticks, but luckily I still had some of that powder we used to Zap the Wasps (sorry Wasps), so that sort of did the trick. We will not be seeing that lot again soon, But rather than bore you with a blow by blow description of the day I have just drawn a little picture instead which I think tells you everything you need to know; I tweaked it on the PC for dramatic effect too to highlight the battle at one of its more interesting points.

Oooooo yes it started to rain as well at about 4:00pm so that is summer over then . . . . . . . DAMN