Little old Ladies, Armageddon and a Supermarket.

(9...)

Today’s task was collecting my wife’s new glasses, so after breakfast we set off, out into the rain. Yes the weather was even worse than yesterday. The roads were very quiet as we left our tiny village heading towards the grand supermarket (I say grand in reference to its size not interior) where the optician is housed  . The roads remained quiet until we got to the outskirts of the town (I hate big towns and cities). Then the roads were manic despite the fact the weather was rubbish and the roads a bit iffy with all the spray.  Our plan was to get some food supplies from M & S and have a coffee but M & S was full of folk fighting over coffee so we decided to get our supplies and continue the quest.

I like to think of these trips in terms of Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter in order to survive the journey. So having got our first items we journeyed onwards so that my wife could get some felt and beads to make mysterious beasts. I think the plan is to sacrifice then to the Sun God so the Sun will return . . . . . . (Ah apparently that is not true . . . . and I am an Idiot)

Anyway armed with more things we faced the biggest challenge the Grand Supermarket where we got my wife’s glasses.  It was full of folk too fighting over food and milk and packets of lettuce. I suspect the rumour about Armageddon had spread by then. I can be very convincing at times and while my wife was getting her new glasses tweaked to suit her, I may have casually mentioned Armageddon to a bus party of little old ladies with trolleys heading towards the frozen food section. . . Not sure what they were doing there on mass. Anyway there is nothing quite like a group of panicking little old ladies grabbing everything from the shelves and screaming “we are all doomed” to make folk also panic just in case.

We then headed to the DIY store to buy glue and wood for the workshop and then headed to the Garden Centre for a coffee. It was manic also.  It seemed the coffee shop was full of hysterical little old ladies all claiming some idiot had told them a bunch of lies about the End of the World. I tried to reassure them you just can’t believe everything folk tell you. . . Anyway they thought I was a very nice chap not like that other one in the supermarket. I did say supermarkets bring out the worst in folk and they all nodded and pointed at stuff.

After our coffee, OK a hot Chocolate in my case we headed home where the cats leapt at my head demanding food. . . . . . . . . . . Pesky cats

And that is the day so far

Our youngest daughter is due later . . . Apparently she is trying to calm down a group of hysterical old ladies so might be a bit late and I have a car full of DIY things to unload . . . . . depending on when or if the rain stops.

Pesky Rain

I have just been reading an old diary entry from 9^th May five years ago . . . I remember this. It just goes to show a diary is useful.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It appears that when someone leaves you a little note to remind you to do a particular task it is not a good idea to amuse yourself by modifying the instruction in case you forget that you modified it when you read it the following day. Let’s face it the very reason the note was left in the first place was because I tend to forget things.

So after waking up and waving my hair about in the shower and staggering about saying WHO AM I, WHAT DAY IS IT, WHERE IS MY BRAIN . . . . AH THE ZOMBIES HAVE NICKED MY BRAIN . . . . Eating some breakfast and then groaning loads in order to prove I am a Zombie. I noticed a note left for me to tell me what my task is today. So having read the task I decide I should do them in the order they have been written down.

Instruction One: - Strim Cows

WHAT? . . . . . . I don’t know what that is about but if I am left a note then I have always found it is best just to do what I am told. There was a time I would get distracted and go off and do other things and so the important jobs would get left. But no longer I am a lean mean efficient fighting machine (sort of). I am not sure if any of you have ever tried to strim a cow with a strimmer it is far from easy, in fact it is extremely hard. First off you need to get the flock (sorry herd) penned into the corner of a field and then fire up the strimmer and then charge at them in a random way to confuse them. If you are lucky you might get to strim the side of the odd cow as it stampedes past you, I will tell you right now cows do not like strimmers one bit. Cows can shift I have always thought of cows as slow happy docile beasts with a happy go lucky attitude to life, oblivious of the fact they will be turned into dinner for the masses at some point. Yes OK they did start making tunnels a long time ago, but that was the past, those cows have long since been char grilled and covered in sauce.

Cows it turns out (to get back to the point) can move rather quickly and it also appears that if annoyed enough say by a young enthusiastic chap with a strimmer can be a little aggressive. Well when I say little I really mean big; cows are big, very big.

So after a short time of chasing cows with a strimmer I found myself pursued by angered cows intent on revenge. This quickly led to a decision to abandon Instruction One and concentrate on Instruction two.

Instruction Two :- Pick Parsley

Well this was a piece of cake and done in a flash. It was only afterwards when I was asked HAVE YOU STRIMMED THE COW PARSLEY AT THE TOP OF THE DRIVE that I remembered I had slightly modified the note left for me . . . . . . . . Strim Cow Parsley . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN

The good news, I now have, but the bad news is I don’t think the cows like me anymore. I have told them I don’t eat cows, but that has only led to rumours and now the farmer does not like me either.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The 2019 A to Z Challenge . . . Letter Q

Q

Ask a Duck which is his/her favourite Letter in an alphabet and he/she will always say the same thing Quack . . . . .Which brings us to plans involving the Letter Q and Ducks such as The Quad Plan of the world famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright. You see not many folk know this. Actually no one knows this but Frank Lloyd Wright based his designs on principles he learnt from watching Ducks nesting. It is why so many of his iconic house designs involve water, a hard shiny exterior and a white interior with soft yellow furnishings at their very centre. Although the novelty Duck noise door bells were never entirely a success with the public, partly because pesky kids would ring them and then run off and hide leaving an innocent duck on the doorstep to take the wrap.  Luckily most ducks are faster or at least as fast as a speeding steam locomotive as we learnt on a previous Letter. . . . . I bet you now wish you had read the earlier Letters, but I have no intention of telling you it was Letter M . . . . . . . . . . DAMN

Harry

He might look cute but OOOOOOOooo No. 

Predictions, Pirates, Sailors, Syria and the End of the World (again)

I have cunningly disguised my bit of 3D art 

for now as it is not entirely finished 

I am back and not before time I can hear you all say . . . . OK I can at least pretend you are all pleased to see me back at the helm of my favourite steam powered PC; with its very annoying and overworked fan squeaking at me as it desperately tries to deal with the internet and my spelling.  Well it was a lovely week pondering the world down in South Wales in a semi secluded lodge near the coast. It was quite interesting watching the sailing folk as they clambered in and out of their assortment of boats, but I was left with one rather puzzling question by the end of the week. You see you would think of sailing folk as lean mean fighting machines leaping from mast to mast with daggers and swords held between their teeth like pirates of old. This however was far from the truth indeed. As most of the ones I saw were rather unfit and overweight and at least half of them seemed rather elderly. Maybe this is why traditional pirates died out as a species, as they were just unable to sing (sorry Swing) from ship to ship on ropes going HAR HAR HAR.

Now while I was away doing some arty stuff watching sailors? and thinking, I sort of remembered something from way way back about that chap Nostradamus, sadly folk keep doing sneaky stuff to his predictions to try and keep him up and running, but I do recollect he first said the start of the End of the World would happen back in 1990 something, and since then folk have lost interest (when it never happened) and just use Google instead to predict everything. But I’m sure I remember that it was all due to start going down hill with war in the Middle-East and I am certain Syria was the predicted flash point. Look this was a long time ago now, we have not chatted for ages on account of Mr Nostradamus not being entirely alive. In fact the last time we met he tried to eat my brains and groaned a lot which did make me suspicious back then.

OK back to the point Syria is in a bit of a mess at present and both Russia and the USA are trying to bomb it to bits while avoiding accidently bombing one another. Now there is no doubt that President Putin is far more gung ho than President Obama but if say Mr Trump became President Trump, then I suspect he would be up for a bit of brinkmanship against President Putin. Let’s face it they are not going to be buddies and chatting on the phone to deal with those tricky international issues.

So maybe that Mr Nostradamus might have been right about the End of the World starting in the Middle East after all. I plan to wrap my head in tin foil, write poetry and do some art while hiding under the dinning table. . . . . still it could be worse I could own a VW. 

Kitchen Floors, Strangers, and the End of the World

Today we had strangers in the house not as in sneaking in but as in expected, but they were folk I did not know and I don’t like having folk I do not know in my own house. To make matters slightly worse they were doing work in the house, I do not like folk doing work for me if I don’t known them, particularly in my own home. Just before they arrived in their van they phoned and a rather chirpy Jack the Lad sort of chap explained they would be arriving soon in a rather chirpy Jack the Lad sort of way.  They were on their way to lay the new vinyl flooring in the kitchen diner. I had laid ply down removed the skirting boards and filled any gaps so that all was nice and easy so they were dead chuffed when they realized all that had been done. It also meant they were able to complete the work much quicker than they had planned and left a couple of hours later still chirpy and smiling well ahead of schedule so that they could get another job done before heading home.

So it means the kitchen  diner is starting to take shape and is just starting to look a bit posh which is all a bit odd really because I am not posh and very very dishevelled and rickety. So there is not a great deal left to do, a bit of electrics and I have to remove all the plastic film from the IKEA units so that instead of a dullish mat red there will be a high gloss shiny red allowing folk to see my reflection in all the units glowing red at them in a scruffy dishevelled fashion. . . A bit like a shabby devil with unkept hair and a grumpy disposition.

I heard from a friend earlier who was having a bit of a family issue with a member of his family clutching the lawn in a vice like grip and refusing to let go. I think they were trying to talk the person off the lawn, but last I heard they were still fixed fast to the ground.

Now if you remember I did say 21^st September was the End of the World and I was just wondering if this was the first stage. One of the things you might expect to happen if the End of the World does occur is folk clutching the ground and refusing to let go. It is entirely logical because if the world is going to vanish the best chance you have of being a survivor is to be hanging onto it as best you can. . . . . I am at present hedging my bets because I have just had a posh new floor put in the kitchen diner so if the world does not end I will be able to eat in a posh room although still looking a bit tramp-ish in my own general appearance.     

Big Questions Answers . . . Will 2015 be the End of the World.

Interestingly so far, as we approach the end of 2014 no one has mentioned the End of the World. This is unusual as most years we are told that next year is going to be it (the End of the World). I suspect folk are keeping their heads down about predicting this because in recent years there have been several times where it has not actually happened and there is nothing quite as humiliating as everyone looking at you the next day like you are a complete idiot followed by anger as it dawns on them that spending their life saving on a pet dolphin and a night in a posh hotel in Blackpool was a bad idea.

So having subdued the crackpot element of the End of the World prediction game we can look at the possibilities with logic and a fair amount of rationality. You see one thing we know we can’t say is  . . . . The World will definitely not End in 2015 . . . .  So having established it might End we need to look at the possibilities and assess the risks.

1     Well it has been said that there is a meteor due in 2015 that is rather large and may hit Earth . . . .  We can see this as a high risk possibility so 50%

2      We know that the Super Volcano in North America will at some point erupt, it is said by scientists that a Super Volcano is overdue, so although the Yellowstone Park one is not in theory due to go bang it is a possibility and so is a known high risk maybe 25%

3     A complete failure of all electronic devices due to a huge solar flare. This may not be the End of the World but it would bring the End of the World as we know it. A solar flare large enough to cause this would be rare but there is concern in science that the risk it may occur is increasing. So let’s say 15%

4     A terrible epidemic with no known cure will rapidly spread through the world’s population and reduce numbers to a level where our lifestyle is unsustainable and those left fight over the last tins of beans. . . . The risk is increasing, antibiotics are not what they were and human travel makes it likely that once something highly contagious got out of control it would be every man for himself . . .  risk maybe 5%

5     An as yet unknown force or series of events that will result in the End of the World is always a possibility and there are lots of them but in most cases unlikely so let’s say overall  4%

6     Aliens OK aliens are to many a very remote possibility, but we all watch films and if there is one thing we know, it is they are out to take over the planet so that would be the end for us. But lots of folk say Aliens are rubbish so we will put the risk at 1%

7      Finally there are folk who are convinced the End of the World will be Zombies. Yes I know it is very unlikely and people say these are mad folk with loony ideas, but just in case I think we can assess the risk at a very low 0.1% (even the strangest theories can sometimes occur.

Now each of these risks is independent of the other so the overall risk that one of them may occur is 50+25+15+5+4+1+0.1 which equals 100.1%

In other words using good scientific principles rather than some crackpot idea we can say with some certainty that the risk that the End of the World will occur in 2015 is 100.1%

AH DAMN 

We have reached the END again . . . . (Volume Four)

We have reached the end of Volume Four of the Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor and all I can say is it has not gone well.  Many of the main characters have vanished and it has sort of metamorphosed into me rambling even more than ever.

Ironically while on the subject of metamorphosed I was attacked only a few minutes ago by a Vampire Moth which was trying to suck the blood out of my hand. Luckily my hand was slightly protected by a sweet sticky coating, the result of eating gooey cake. This gave me time to take the moth outside and put him on a solar light to confuse him, allowing me time to get back in and lock the patio door before he turned up with all his mates. No one wants to be attacked by Vampire Moths.

Anyway as I have said already this is the END of, The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor (volume four) and so I thought I should go and hunt for the ant that brought about the end of volume one, two and three, again I did not find it so I am now sat on the patio pondering the grand finale . . . .  Ooooooo guess what a small ant has wandered across the patio and it appears to have found a small red button saying DO NOT PRESS. This sounds very very very familiar, ants are curious creatures so I think he is going to try and press the button  . . . . . . ..

OH No he is not going to get away with it this time I will stop him by putting my foot on the button so he can't press it. . . . . AH DAMN I think I may have been a bit enthusiastic doing that . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The Traditional Rob Z Tobor End of the Year Post . . . .(well it is Now)

I know this is what I wrote last year but it is now going to be the new, New Years Eve traditional post until I forget that I have one, which may be next year or next week......

So here we are on the last day of 2014 and we all know what that means, it means folk standing out on street corners shouting and letting off fireworks hugging strangers as they pass and singing that old traditional Scottish song that no one knows the words too. But luckily most folk are a bit merry and will not be aware that instead of singing the correct words they are singing

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never mmmmm to mmmmm?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll mmmm  o' mmmm mmmm,

For auld lang syne.

which sort of shows that folk don't really know the words

Then everyone will repeat this until they get bored and spot an urban fox chasing a pigeon, where upon the masses will abandon singing Auld Lang Syne staggering about in a mad linked hands sort of dance and chase the fox shouting

I’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX MY DEAR,

IN A DUSTBIN AT IKEA

I’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX I BET,

PUT BUTTER IN HIS EAR

BUTTER IN HIS EAR MY DEAR,

PUT BUTTER IN HIS EAR

We’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX AND THEN WE’LL GET

SOME BUTTER IN HIS EAR

O yes they all know the words then

So I have left a message with the foxes to avoid large crowds of people who look happy and not to spend the night raiding the Swedish meat balls in the bins of IKEA. And don’t go anywhere near people with tubs of butter

I would like to wish everyone a jolly happy new year and if you live in the UK I believe New Years Day is due to be stormy,  not sunny like this year (was it sunny I better check)

If you do need to sing and chase urban foxes then here are the words to Auld Lang Syne rather than a foxy based one which would be a bit of a give away…..

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!

And surely I'll be mine!

And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

We twa hae run about the braes,

And pou'd the gowans fine;

But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,

Frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!

And gie's a hand o' thine!

And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

All the best for 2014.

.

The Pale Tussock Moth People of Tussockonium

A couple of days ago I said that the End of the World would be a result of Zombies arriving on the 1^st Feb 3456 well today we have had a sign that indicates that although the date is right, particularly after the collapse of the tower of apples.  But a creature was seen walking on the apples that had formed the tower, a strange creature that can only mean that it will not be Zombies but aliens that will arrive and destroy mankind. These aliens I think will look like moths and be pale hairy beasts a bit like yeti’s only more moth shaped and from a strange planet probably called Tussockonium, so should you see any of the Pale Tussock Moth People of Tussockonium my advice would be to run away quick.

There is one defence method that may work however it has always worked with alien Moth People in the past and that is to switch on a bright unshaded light bulb, preferably not one of those stupid low energy ones as you will find you have been abducted and experimented on for at least half an hour before the light bulb is bright enough to confuse the Aliens.

It appears the one thing alien Moth People have a problem with is bright lights, apparently a throw back to their evolutionary past when they used glowing orbs in their planets upper atmosphere to navigate by, much like we use satellite navigation in cars to drive up rivers and over the edge of cliffs (the steep drop not Cliff Richard, NO you are not allowed to drive over Cliff Richard).

Ooooooo I also used a pickaxe and some black paint today but not at the same time.

It appears that the headmaster says as well as Zombie Defence Classes I may be asked by the school governors to include Alien Defence Classes just in case the End of the World turns up rather earlier than predicted…..  

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The End of the World and a Slight Error

A certain person has called in from his place of work; it is a place of work that deals with what can be sensitive personal data about members of the public. All sorts of stuff that must be kept secure.  Now as this is a national organisation using various IT systems to store all this data, internet and computer security is rather important, well very important, so this person was somewhat surprised today to learn of a slight error made by someone.  This was not a local error as he would then be held responsible as the local IT guru, but happened up north. Anyway it appears for reasons best known to an as yet unknown person a slight error has occurred.  

Well I say slight it appears one or two files containing sensitive personal data may have been accessible via the internet to everyone. Well I say one or two, but I may mean a few, OK I say a few but a couple of hundred sensitive files is quite a lot. So when folk start saying nearly one thousand three hundred files have been compromised due to what appears to be a grave error, the local IT guru says he is glad it is a long way off as (putting it rather bluntly) much shit will be hitting fans.  It seems that the BBC has become rather interested as well as the press and if the story takes off will not fair well for this organisations reputation. Although the local IT chap says it was not the national security systems, but someone did a very silly thing as far as he can tell.

In other news the six high apple tower still stands as the foreteller of doom and in order to appease the questioning minds of the mathematicians and men of science who read my diary the apples to the side of the apple tower have been moved away, clearly showing that the date stated yesterday for the End of the World is correct. Although for one IT man up north the End of the World may arrive sooner.

Did you notice that I managed that without once letting slip that the local IT man is in fact the Ghost Writer . . . . . . . . . . . . . DAMN… 

  

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The Correct Date for the End of the World based on apples and science . . . . . .

After yesterday’s lesson on the wonders of the universe the Ghost Writer ruined everything by putting another apple on my apple tower to make it six apples high, all I can say is that it must predict the next possible End of the World.  It has been some time since we had a decent End of the World prediction date in fact the whole End of the World prediction business has sort of Ended.  I wonder if someone predicted the End of the Worlds, End of the World predict business, anyway I can start it up again now after the shock news of an apple tower taller than five apples. Even Isaac Newt-man stated that an apple will always fall at a fixed rate even if it was a largish apple up to a point (note the up to a point). You see he knew that if the apple was so large that the planet Earth was proportionally the size of an apple in comparison to the huge apple, then Earth would fall onto the apple with the same force as the small apple falls to Earth. However the small apple and Earth would both fall onto the surface of the hypothetically huge apple at the same speed, presenting the paradox that a six apple tower represents. Clearly predicting the End of the World.

So after telling everyone at school this morning that the End of the World was due in twenty five minutes it was decided that there was little point in having any maths homework. As it happens after recalculating the time and date of the End of the World, I had not thought about the diameter of the apple and its effect on Pi (HAH HAHAHH AHH AHhah ha hah ah ahha ha hahh hah ahah h hah ha) I have worked out it will now be the 1^st Feb 3456 approximately when Earth will be destroyed by terrible mutant Zombies who will look just like Granny Smith.

Zombies will call this their deliciously golden era although it too will eventually crumble…… 

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The END of The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor . . . . . . (volume three)

Today was the last day of my book, The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor (volume three) as tomorrow is the first day of school after the holidays, or maybe today was, but I guess I will find out tomorrow. I know the holidays have ended because the Swallows are starting to mass before their long trip to Africa. There were at least a hundred here today circling and chasing insects and chattering all day on the power lines. They did do something however I did not know swallows did, about mid-day they mobbed a buzzard which in the end gave up and flew off although it did not seem too bothered. But later in the afternoon they mobbed a sparrow hawk who was really unhappy and flew off at speed  and panicking to escape from them, lets face it even a sparrow hawk cant out manoeuvre or out run a swallow so being chased by a hundred must have been a shock.

Anyway as I have said already this is the END of The Slightly Eccentric Diary of Rob Z Tobor (volume three) and so I thought I should go and hunt for the ant that brought about the end of volume one and volume two however I did not find it so I am now sat on the patio pondering the grand finale . . . .  Ooooooo guess what a small ant has wandered 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 I think he is going to press the button, he has . . . . . . . . . Mum just said, HERE WE GO AGAIN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  AH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

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The Big Bang, the Mattress and the Kitchen Sink

Last night as we watched the ten o’clock news on the BBC on our television there was a loud whooshing bang and the house sort of gave a very gentle leap to the West, so we all looked at one another and went off to find out what had happened as it could have been anything from the long expected Zombie attack or Aliens or the unpredicted End of the World.  Actually that last one would be rather amusing, after all folk have predicted the end of the world almost from the start of the world so if it turned up unannounced everyone would be dead annoyed (or dead).

As it turned out it was in fact one of our neighbours who is moving house and rather than take all the stuff in it, he has decided to torch it.  He had a fairly big bonfire the other week and last night he set fire to beds, mattresses, pictures, chairs, the piano, the gas cooker, the television, the bath, and the one everyone knows the kitchen sink. Of course some of this stuff does not burn to well so he had made sure it would burn by adding a large tin full of petrol and then as they say lit the blue touch paper and ran like hell; well not so much ran as sailed through the sky with a trail of smoke behind him….

I did run in to grab my camera but missed getting a photo of the really big flames as petrol and mattress burns really fast. His immediate neighbour kept guard for a while because he was (the chap who started it) running back and fore to his house with buckets of water as the long grass which was rather dry due to the recent heat was burning rather well also. Its WELL COOL (OK hot) living out in the wilds, as loads of wild things happen that are dead exciting….

Oooooooo yes we are off out for a meal tonight so this is it for now………

Do Not Press the Large Red Button

 Today was another day of ticking along quietly and I must admit to not achieving a great deal, but then that is the great dilemma of mankind, human progress is slow. Anyway today saw several visitors for lunch including Miss Jo and Master Ja and Miss E plus Miss I and Mrs Ghost Writer and the Ghost Writer.  Master Ja reminded the Ghost Writer that he has to put together a super gaming computer made out of old bits from classic Edison radiograms, something he promised to do ages ago . . . . . the Ghost Writer said AH a lot but has promised to complete the task pronto which means in the next few days.

After long chats and lunch everyone vanished and went off to do the stuff they have to do but not long after dad noticed that a certain button had been pressed, it was the large red button that has the words DO NOT PRESS written on it in large type. It is a strange thing but once you write do not press on a button the one thing that some people can not resist doing is pressing the button, and it appears that today is no exception. Yes the button had been pressed.

I had always wondered about this button but luckily it was not me that pressed it, it might have been Master Ja, he is the sort of young chap who faced with a big button and someone saying go on give it a press, I have always wondered what it did, would be unable to resist. Dad did look a little worried and had to admit that is was attached to the weather machines Armageddon destruction setting which he had added as a bit of a laugh as you do, well most mad scientists would. The reason being it keeps the massed folk from the village storming your home with fiery torches intend on destroying your experiment. As dad says there is nothing quite like the threat of the end of the world to keep the masses in their place, which of course is true as long as you don’t put DO NOT PRESS on a big friendly red button; as the old saying goes . . . . curiosity killed the cat (and everyone else too).

It was OK though because there was an override key in a safe place so that it was safe and would not get lost, I know about them I have several things still lost in a safe place which I hope one day I will remember where it is.  It was just like one of those Bond movies where the bomb ticks and Bond still can’t find his secret gadget in the boot of his car. Dad said that the sun would turn very red and then explode, and earth would be swallowed whole by a  huge hot cloud of stuff like porridge (sounds like funny weather to me).

 Anyway to cut a long story short, I got a picture of the sun just before dad found the key with a whole 25 seconds to spare. . . . . . PHEW.

Although the Ghost Writer is complaining it means he has to make a gaming PC out of radiograms now. . . .    

A Large Steam Powered Post Apocalyptic, Jekyll and Hyde Santa

Parts of Britain are not fairing well with the floods and although it has been dry today the next few days appear to be a return to more rain, just as our old mate Santa is about to turn up. Dad has built a large Steam Powered Post Apocalyptic, Jekyll and Hyde Santa for all those people who were hoping for Armageddon for Christmas. He has even filled Santa’s beard with fish paste and French fries from the takeaway to encourage flocks of seagulls to follow Santa into his fairy Grotto. Dads plan was to take his Steam Powered Post Apocalyptic, Jekyll and Hyde Santa to the out of town supermarket and offer him as an attraction but unfortunately dad was unable to get the store manager to unlock his office and most of the other store staff ran screaming in the opposite direction. Even the Steam Powered Post Apocalyptic, Jekyll and Hyde Santa’s chirpy smile and friendly ho ho ho hello and who would you like me to eat this Christmas didn’t help much. Dad did try and shout through the keyhole of the manager’s door He is great at eating left over turkey and old Christmas trees but it was drowned out by gibbering and the manager scratching at the floor tiles, trying to dig a tunnel.

Dad was planning to take the reindeer to the store with him but mum said they were too scary and looked like a pack of 30 foot high demonic werewolf’s and that the idea of converting a Trojan Space Gull into a sleigh was just plain stupid.  Dad said the public are boring and will probably sit and watch repeats of the Morecombe and Wise Show while trying to get an entire tin of chocolate into their mouths at the same time. I’m sure dad is wrong surely no one would do that  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . AH 

I spent an hour yesterday doing a quick bit of recording and so if all goes to plan it will be available on line to listen to, I am still working out what does what at present with all the controls and it is all a bit basic so nothing clever just me and a drum and a harmonica and a bit of bent metal that goes boing. As I type I am also trying to work out how to get this uploaded, what I need is a clever Ghost Writer

Ok a bit basic but its a start

the first day of the Post Apocalyptic World, Pheasants and floods.

Well today is very exciting (well OK its not) as today is the first day of the Post Apocalyptic World, I really should have gone out and explored the brave new world but the truth is the weather in the UK at present is terrible. It seems rather ironic to me that the best day we have had in a long time was yesterday, I suspect the great gods in the sky have been having a bit of a jolly at our expense. However for one small group the End of the World has been today, probably well within the acceptable mathematical margin of error so will count as yesterday, yes the local shoot have been in the fields near us and have zapped loads of pheasants. Being pheasants they work to entirely different calendars than we do, and their doomsday date is based on the one predicted by the ancient Dodo. I have been told that the legend tells of a fearsome creature that will arrive with unspeakable weapons that will make load noises and fell all before them even while in flight, obviously in the case of the Dodo the flight bit does not count. These terrible creatures will then rip apart all the birds and devour them mercilessly, laughing and throwing bits of them away as if they are but bits of uninteresting rubbish. The terrible fearsome monsters apparently look just like human beings and are known to the entire bird population as human beings . . . . . . . . .AH, yes I can see their point. It might explain why the turkey next door was looking a bit depressed, in fact where has he gone? He was about a few days ago  . . . . .AH OK Christmas dinner YUM.

 In other news, there is no other news at present except that Britain is going to be flooded for Christmas and I would strongly advise the use of waterproof wrapping paper and that a wet suit might be a popular present for the man who has everything. Well he had everything until it was last seen attached to a Christmas tree heading down stream with a duck sat on the top of it laughing at people on the banks of the river with fishing nets.

mmmmmm that looks suspicious, maybe we are not entirely safe yet

How the world Ended on the 21st December 2012

So here we are the 21^st Dec (AGAIN) only a few short weeks after the predicted End of the World on the 21^st December, well what a day that turned out to be  a bit of a surprise for the masses when the first cheese slices started landing across the world. Sadly my diary is not as well read as it should be; and instead of going into hiding large numbers of the population were nibbling cheese.  I think the majority of people in Britain first realized all was not as it should be when David Cameron (the Prime Minister) gave his television statement to the public directly from outside No 10, assuring them it would to be sensible not to panic. His speech was going quite well right up to the point when a huge space gull bit his head off, well that was not expected and the crowds looked shocked, only Nick Clegg seemed to perk up at the opportunity to be Prime Minister but as he stepped up to say a few words to a now bewildered and shocked public he too was plucked off the ground by a space gull and promptly swallowed. From that point onwards mankind was doomed, all that screaming and running about just attracted more Space Gulls. Luckily for us and a few friends dad had anticipated events and had built a large Trojan Space Gull in the garden which we hid in.

It was several days later that the aliens turned up who then set about turning the entire world’s population into DNA bar codes filing everyone away on hard drives. Slowly but surely working their way across the planet until almost everyone was merely a simple barcode, luckily hiding in a nesting (Trojan) Space Gull appeared to the perfect place to avoid detection.

As time passed the weather remained dull wet and cold in Britain as it tends too and the Aliens started to get sore throats, cough and show signs of Man Flu, then they all took to their spacecraft and were heard groaning. From the safety of our Trojan Space Gull we could see several of them staring out of the windows of their space craft looking like Alien Zombies complaining about the cold wet dull weather and Man Flu (apparently the worst illness in the universe). The next thing was they were off; gone; vanished, along with the Space gulls, who by then had eaten all the huge intergalactic cheese slices and French Fries in McDonalds. We waited a few more days but it was safe to leave the Trojan Space Gull then.

Luckily for all of you three things were working to the worlds and your advantage.

1 The aliens appear to all be men and therefore rather more susceptible to Man Flu

2 The hard drives with the world’s populations Barcoded DNA were safe, as they had been accidently left behind by an Alien with Man Flu who had well sort of lost the plot and returned to his spacecraft to go to bed, but left all the important stuff outside.

3 The Ghost Writer was alive and well and hiding in the Trojan Space Gull with us. As you know the Ghost Writer is a genius at IT, and many other things, so he quickly worked out how to reverse the process and return people back to a state of being people again. Well almost as I'm afraid you are all virtual people living in a virtual world created from the networked memory of your barcodes so although it may not feel like it I am afraid you are all living in the hard drive of an old Dell computer under the bench in an orange room which has had the date turned back to the 21^st Dec for you to avoid confusion and keep continuity.

 So there we go the world did end for most of you but of course you don’t know that it did because you are in a new virtual world inside an old Dell computer so as long as I don’t press this little button you are fine . . . . . . . . . . . . .AH . . . . .DAMN sorry about that everyone, I will go and have a word with the Ghost Writer

The Ghost Writer says  . . . .IDIOT.

End of the World Blogfest thing

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