More Writers Block, More Gibberish, Another day on King Street. . . . . and a Polar Bear

I have spent the day in a grey office not the sun so Persistent Writers block has become Chronic Writers block. It may be the other way round depending on which you think sounds worse. But I feel I am left with little option but to revisit the good folk of King Street; a street where little happens of interest allowing me to write more gibberish.

Very little of interest happens on King Street so it did not go entirely unnoticed when Mary or Auntie Mary as she was known to all on the street was seen pushing a large fibreglass Polar Bear balanced precariously on an old pram. Do you want a hand Auntie Mary said Mrs Jones her next door Neighbour, the pair of them struggling to get the life size Polar Bear up the stairs and into Mary’s bedroom.

As they sat it down looking out of the window Mrs Jones’s curiosity finally got the better of her. . . What exactly do want a life-sized Polar Bear for? she asked.

Well its that Mr Hamilton over the road he keeps peering at me at night through his windows  so I got this, I know he hates Polar Bears. And I have had it modified in the watch repairers in the high street. . . .

Modified ? Replied Mrs Jones looking with interest at the huge beast.

Yes it has lights in its eyes Look. . . Mary turned a switch on the side of the bear and its eyes glowed a sinister red. . . .

Its Winking said Mrs Jones it must have a dodgy connection in the wiring.

AH . . . WELL it growls as well said Mary turning another switch

But as she did so, rather than growl it made the sound of a large cuckoo clock. . .Are you sure that is right asked Mary rather alarmed by the sight of a winking Polar Bear going cuckoo . . . . cuckoo . . . . cuckoo . . . cuckoo . . . cuckoo . . . cuckoo

It was the nearest thing to a growl the watch repairers had in the shop was Mary’s response.

And it appears to be smiling said Mrs Jones   

 I know it a bloody nuisance that, but I could not find one that snarled said Mary

That night as darkness fell and Mr Hamilton wandered up to bed and he went to close his curtains he noticed a face. Well I should point out it is important to know Mr Hamilton has terrible eyesight and hearing so it was hard for him to work out who it was. It was certainly Auntie Mary’s bedroom window he thought and whoever it was, was smiling at him. Waving back he was responded to by winking and a muffled sound of Cooooo . . . . . Coooooo  . . . . well it was a bit of a shock as Mr Hamilton thought Mary had always disliked him.  So it was that the following morning as Mr Hamilton headed off to work and spotting Mary he felt confident enough to give here a cheeky wink and a quick pinch on the bum.  Well Mary was so annoyed that she went up to her bedroom and attempted to kick the Polar Bear down the stairs.

Later as she was approached by the doctor at the hospital he asked her what had happened to which she said. I kicked that bloody Polar Bear of mine and we both fell down the stairs. I broke my leg and all it did was wink at me bloody thing, luckily Mrs Jones heard it shouting cuckoo. . . . cuckoo . . .  cuckoo and she phoned for the ambulance. And then they refused to enter the house because the polar bear was smiling at them. I’m going to demand a refund once I get back home. . . That Bloody polar bear has done nothing but cause trouble.

The doctor smiled and quickly moved to the next patient who had swallowed a goldfish called Derrick. 

And I still cant think of anything to write about yet. . . . .  

A Rolling Stone and a Gutter Full of Moss.

There is an old saying that goes . . . .  A rolling stone will gather no moss . . . . . Well yes, but that is a bit vague, surely it would depend on where it was rolling, how fast it was rolling, how big it is, weather conditions and all sorts of other stuff. So as a saying it is like many others I have used in my diary, rubbish. However the saying . . . . A north facing roof gutter gathers loads of moss  . . . . .  is far more to the point, particularly when used as a saying in the UK.  And can be used with some effect if you are told to get the ladder out and someone points at a gutter and says . . .      A north facing roof gutter gathers loads of moss . . .  followed by time to get up that ladder Rob and sort it ouT. So I spent part of the day clearing a very blocked gutter but it no longer has any moss in it, I have glued the moss to a large round stone which I plan to roll down a hill in front of a crowd of people and point out that a certain old saying needs to be removed from the encyclopaedia of old saying, pronto.

The Ghost Writers car is back at the garage, I was sent with him so that he would be nice to the mechanics and smile when they implied that the reason the clutch has failed again was due to a build up of moss in the moving parts, due to a period of wet weather. And of course it did not help that one of the mechanics quoted the old saying . . . A rolling Firestone Tyre . . . .  Although after my experience I was able to add that only if you don’t drive in the gutter of northern roads, which lead to much pointing and scratching of heads with the occasional knowing nod at something mechanical.

Anyway I am off drumming tonight, the last session before the end of the year so we will be summoning up the Micro God of Years ready for the big event……. I will return later (and still this year).

I have returned but I have also forgotten what I was going to add so I will go again. It appears the year is going to end in rain, but why does it end now (well at the end of tomorrow) I need to find out, because it not the most significant day of the year really. 

By the way have you ever wondered what happened exactly 

one year ago  

I did

Time and Geometry waits for no man

It is very late and I do not have much time to write because as I said it is very late so efficiency is of the upmost in order to make the best use of the time I have to write my diary entry, DAMN I appear to have got off to a rather bad start now . . . . .  Dawn (sorry DAMN) Ok to the point or it will be dawn before I get to the days events. Today’s first news appears to be that the Ghost Writers car, the one with the new clutch which has now done all of twenty miles has a problem. He is not entirely sure, but when he tried to use it this morning the new clutch failed and was doing what the old clutch did, this is not good news for the Ghost Writer who said DAMN and other stuff which is best not repeated here as this is a child friendly diary……. However when he tried it this afternoon it worked OK, this is what happened before and the key fact is that the car is freezing in the morning and warmer in the afternoon. Again this is what was happening with the old clutch . . . . How can a clutch not work when it is cold and be fine when two or three degree’s warmer. All he can do is try it in the morning and see if the same happens tomorrow.

We went to see Mrs E’s new charity shop she is manager of, and took some clothes for it and I have said I will make some Valentines Day Stuff for the window  . . . . . . First thought was to make a large robot Al Capone with huge machine guns shooting at a box of cute kittens, but I was told this is a rubbish idea. I did say it would look dead cool but I was told I was an IDIOT. Apparently there is a fine line between madness and genius according to the Ghost Writer but neither of us have found it yet, I guess the fact it is a fine line and our eye sight is a bit rubbish means it needs to be drawn a bit thicker.

I have eaten the second half of the rather yummy homemade chicken pie so that means there is no pie left. Therefore in short with no pi and a thin line we can’t see, Geometry is now just a case of clutching at straws, and even that is a problem as the clutch is not working and the straw has blown away in the wind.   

Now look at what you made me do I have run out of time . . . . . . . DAMN.

OK but at least everyone knows I ate half a pie.  . . . . . . ..  and some peas. 

OOOOOoooooo and deleted a person from the Group of Doom on FB  . . . . . 

I SPY with my Little Eye

As tonight I have a frazzled Brain I have decided to play I SPY with an Invisible Makey-Up Person who for the rest of this diary entry will be Known as IMP

Me . . . . .   I Spy with my little eye something beginning with R

IMP . . . . A ravenous rampant Zombie

Me . . . . . No

IMP . . . . .A revolting rotten Zombie

Me . . . . . NO it is not a Zombie

IMP  . . . . Not even a rare midget Zombie

Me . . . . . . NO

IMP . . . . . .A Pirate

Me . . . . . . What?

IMP . . . . . . Pirates go Rrrrrrrrr HAR HAR HAR RRRRRRR a lot

Me . . . . . .  NO

IMP . . . . . . A Rhino

Me . . . . . . No

IMP . . . . . . A Rattlesnake

Me . . . . . . No

IMP . . . . . OK I give up I can’t see anything

Me . . . . .  LOOK it is over there it is furry, has long eyes (sorry ears) and pointy teeth and it hopping about it that field

IMP . . . . A Zombie

Me  . . . . . Look what are those small furry things

IMP . . . . .Gloves?

Me . .. . . . . . NO NO NO its RABBITS, a whole load of ******* ***** RABBITS

IMP . . . . .  O yes, so it is

You see never play I SPY with Invisible Makey-Up People they are rubbish at it.

Ooooo mum just said IDIOT . . . . I think she means IMP?

Hadron the Micro God of Timelines of Technical Enlightenment and Jigs

Today was hot; life in a south facing glass building with no air conditioning is tough, us Brits are just not designed for hot summers and high humidity. In fact it’s the high humidity that is the problem if it was a dry heat we would be better off you don’t see folk complaining in the great deserts of the world that the office is too hot. 

It is the last week of school and tomorrow will be my last week of teaching small over enthusiastic children for the year, next year they will all be a year older and just slightly less enthusiastic, sadly this does tend to happen as you get older so when folk shout at you  STOP ACTING LIKE A CHILD you can say it is in order to remain enthusiastic and create great things very quickly …….

 I have noticed that it is just starting to get darker in the evening now, so it means that we can put the fairy lights on again, as most of you know we have a simple philosophy  that says you cant have too many fairy lights.  Fairy lights of course were originally created as an offering to Hadron the Micro God of Timelines of Technical Enlightenment and Jigs and even to this day it is not unusual to see strings of fairy lights at barn dances, sadly however they are seldom seen in the old established corridors of science these days Science mocks the world of Micro Gods saying things like HA HA HA HA HA DRON. But  it is nice to know that he may be a Micro God but the largest atom smashing machine in the world was named after him (The Large Hadron Collider) even though he is a Micro God and therefore not large.

I know what you are thinking … . . . He is rambling again, is he going to tell us what he has done today or not after all this is a diary not a scrap book (I hope that was not a little mutter of O YES IT IS). You don’t see scrap books anymore they have been thrown on the scrap heap (HAH HAHAH HAHAH HAHHAH AH HHHAH HAHH Hah ha hah ahah hah ha ah ha ha ha ha ha dron) and you don’t see that smelly glue that folk stuck stuff in scrap books either.

OK yes today I . . . . . . . . . . . Hang on I have forgot but I have been drumming this evening and saw no Zombies….      

Mexican Waves and Mexican Dave

Today has been rather quiet I looked at a few things and prodded a few things talked to a few people pointed at something that needed to be pointed at and in general looked at things in a knowing way as if I knew what was going on, which I didn't. I did notice a man in a large truck flash his lights at me as I made my way to the school and can only assume it was Mexican Dave, I always try to wave back to Mexican Dave but he is always in different trucks so by the time I think AH YES it's Mexican Dave he has flashed all the truck lights at me, waved and shot past me in the opposite direction, so I end up waving to strange people who don’t know who I am but think they might know me so wave back. But because I have almost passed them at this point they end up waving to someone behind me who tries to wave back to them and so on and so on. You can see now why Mexican Dave is called Mexican Dave because hours after he has finished work people are still waving at one an other somewhere out on the road. Still it is better than everyone waving fists at each other which is what happens in large towns particularly when dad takes short cuts up one way streets sort of the wrong way. Although he would argue that because he is in reverse it does not count and it takes skill to reverse at fifty miles an hour. ......

 So I have arrived at the same point as yesterday when I ran out of things to say, well at least until it gets sunny and warm. The sun came out at one point for a whole hour or there abouts, which was lovely and it must be at least a week since I saw it properly but we are at least reaching the point in the year where it will change and summer will arrive and we will lie in deckchairs and on sun loungers and get soaking wet in the rain HAH HAH HAHH HAH hah ahah ahh hah hah ahaha hahahah hah ahaha hahh . . . . . . . . . . .AH mum has just said IDIOT. 

.

.

Man Flu . . . . . . . DAMN

Damn it the bug (Man Flu) has got hold of my mind so I am abandoning my daily diary entry for today something I do not do lightly, I say that because I had started it in stone and using a nice sharp chisel and a proper stonemasons hammer. I thought it might improve my typing as I get time to think between letters although the spell checker does not appear to work and errors are a problem..

But the brain is flagging now as the evening draws on so I am going to go to bed and play Zombie, OK I am going to lie on the bed and go AAAaauuuuuuuuuggggghhhhHHHH a bit. Before I go I should say that on the subject of Zombies Sooty the Cat arrived back earlier covered in mud from head to tail AGAIN and rather scared so he looked like a zombie cat that had seen a zombie. If he keeps using lives up this fast he might end up as a Zombie

Good night all

.

The imminent return of the curse of Halloween and the edges of Op Art

I have noticed in the wonderful world of cyberspace there is a definite increase in Halloween related things and as someone who has many dealing with banshees and zombies vampires and the like you would think I was a great fan of Halloween, but it is not entirely true.  You see I am deep down a bit of a kill joy, nothing wrong with that I hear you say, after all she is a mutant alien being who drinks the blood a small cute things and scares small children so killing Joy is OK.  But we need to look at Halloween a bit closer; in the UK it is a one night event a sort of short sharp shock approach as attempted by the police a few years ago and then it is all over; in the USA is a far grander event and appears to last much longer and can be far more elaborate. There is however a core element that is intertwined into the fabric of both nations, and that is annoying children turning up at your door saying trick or treat and expecting money, sweets and toffee apples. NO not cute. . . . . . It is very annoying, me and the dog demand a trick and so far no one has produced a good one over the years.

Last year our only trick or treaters were the Spanish Inquisition OK well they looked like the Spanish Inquisition, they did not seem to know who the Spanish Inquisition were, and they did not appreciate getting a decomposing armadillo as a treat in fact they ran away screaming although that might have been the bucket of eyes that did that. The dog had even filled it with sugar mice and jellied babies, that’s the decomposing Armadillo not the bucket of eyes that would be silly. But the key fact again was they were rubbish at tricks (not the armadillo or eyes I refer to the Spanish Inquisition). So this year on Halloween me and the dog are planning to eat all the trick or treat arrivals in a huge spicy pie YUM, it is what the Zombies will want us to do, and after all it is their special night we need to be respectful.

OK what happened today I was painting a line OK an edge but an edge sort of forms a line, I have painted edges before in fact I am rather good at it and would have made a great op artist back in the day when op art was rather fashionable. These days op art is not fashionable so the skill of painting an edge is of limited use I tend to find I am asked to paint things like the top of walls where it meets the ceiling and similar things, you see . . . .  so much talent used for such a task as the edge of walls.

I also had to fix a door to make sure it locks correctly as the person is concerned they might have trouble with zombies next week trying to get their toffee apples and sweets and small children with white sheets on their heads that look just like small children with white sheets on their heads going wooooooo wooooooo I want my mummy will attempt to sneak in and run away with humbugs (sorry I mean humming bugs).

I also got to move a pile of rotten wood today that is very rotten (the wood not the task), so that was fun well OK not fun OK it was rotten.

Oooooo yes

 I have pizza for tea and Meringue, ice cream and walnuts for pud so YUM.

.