Not Winning the National Lottery

I will be back here in June, its a grand place

near Inverness

Once a week I buy a Euro millions lottery ticket on a Friday and a national lottery ticket on a Saturday. Now you might say that these days since they sneakily added extra numbers as well as increasing the price to two pounds, the odds of winning as so long that it is almost pointless doing it. Well I would entirely agree with you except for one small issue which now has me trapped. You see since the lottery started a few years ago, probably a few more than I think. I have always used the same numbers on the grounds that based on the principles of probability I would win a modest sum sometime in the next thousand years.  Well that would have been true until they added all these extra draws and then added extra numbers, which now means the principles of probability state that I am more likely to win a tap dancing competition on the moon that win the lottery in the next five hundred thousand years even if I bought a thousand tickets a week.

I refuse to buy more tickets but if I don’t buy my ticket on Friday and Saturday how would I feel if the numbers I use and have always used actually win . . . . I would not be a happy chap so I am well and truly trapped not so much by the dream of winning but by the dread of not winning on the basis that I might actually discover that my numbers did come up on a week I did not have a ticket. I bet (no pun intended) there is a fancy technical name for this but sadly I don’t know it.

O course we all have our little dreams about what we would do if we won the lottery although I do have to point out we should all pursue those dreams as best we can and not think . . . . When I win the lottery I will. . . . . As I have stated you could wait many thousands of years.  But even so, I do have my little dreams about what I might do if I won.  I would not move house I am lucky to live in a nice place but I might buy a small second home near the coast up in Scotland. I love the sea and worked offshore while living in Scotland so it sort of makes sense to rekindle some of those old memories of being an old seadog leaping from boat to ship to platform to crane barge and back again.  And although it’s a stereotypical thing to do I would buy a posh new car. No not some stupid supercar that you cant even get a cat basket in, but a decent 4X4, I have owned a couple in my life and in both cases they were great but as fickle as a car can be, and if I was not nice they would do odd things. They never actually let me down and the V8 Range Rover was a hell of a beast as long as I never ventured far from a petrol station.  It once saved a wedding by ferrying everyone between the church and a house deep in the winter snow.  Sadly Range Rovers have gone all footballers’ wives in their image these days so no good to me.

I would also probably have to get a haircut as it is likely I would be told I could afford a decent haircut, and I suspect protesting would not convince my family that I would be much better as a wild reclusive and slightly mad lottery winner. No they would point at my shiny new posh car and say . . . You can’t drive that with hair that looks like an electrocuted ferret that has been run over a few times by a bus. . . . . . . . You see there are some things even winning the lottery can’t change . . . . Remember money will not make you happy, but it can make it easier to be happy you just need to know what is important.  And even if you do win I suspect you will find you still have dreams that you will be chasing it is sort of what keeps us going. . . . .

The Wisdom of Age

Look I made a face

Well there are certain disadvantages in getting older which folk don’t appreciate until they get older.  You see due to past circumstances I now find I have the body of a 99 year old and the mind of a 9 year old. I know I am not 99 years old but a very long time ago a chap decided to attack me with a large lump of metal which was about the weight, size and shape of the average British cat (sorry Car). . . . It was in fact an average car. It was also not nice and at the time I was very battered, but I recovered. However I have since discovered that the draw back to such events is the poor old body as it gets old says to itself or the brain . . . .  Hang on I think I am feeling a bit Knackered. . . .  So the result is I now have the body of a 99 year old.

There is another interesting thing that can happen to folk as they get older, I think us chaps are very prone to it and that is after a certain age you start going backwards mentally, leading to my statement of having the body of a 99 year old and the mind of a 9 year old

Now I started by saying there are certain disadvantages in this and so there are, you see a nine year old likes to chase seagulls on the beach with say a large plastic dinosaur making roaring noises (this is not recommended if you are a grumpy old chap).  A nine year old will happily climb a tree and pretend to be an alien in the park shouting . . . Take me to your leader . . . at a squirrel (this is not recommended if you are a grumpy old chap).  And apparently standing in a supermarket trolley in Sainsbury’s pretending you are a huge monster Octopus fighting a gang of pirates. . . OK Little Old ladies. . .  with a freshly baked French loaf, is something that the store manager will disapprove of and tell you off and ban you for ages.

Luckily there is one plus to having the mind of a nine year old and it is that a few days later you have forgotten that you have been banned and that you had to be rescued from a tree by the fire brigade or that you were totally knackered for several days after chasing seagulls.  

I was always told when I was little that when you get old you became wise and that folk will come and see you and ask you important questions about the world and stuff.  And now I think I understand why the world is in a bit of a mess. You see I think what is happening is that people do go and ask the wise old sages and leaders of religions and tribes and counties and crumbly old grumpy folk like me what they should do and we apply all the wisdom that our nine year old minds can muster up and say things like. . . . Attack them with youR terrible Martian Death Ray and put FROG-SPAWN in their briefcases HAH HAhah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ah ah ah ha ha ha ha . . . . . .          

Well as old wise folk our wisdom is not questioned unless of course we are standing in a supermarket trolley in the freezer section of the local store pretending we are a parrot. Then folk tend not to come and see me (sorry You). . . . . . .

A short list of What I did not do today, and things that did not happen

Over the many years I have been writing my blog I have told you of the many things I have done, as well as write the odd fable, fairytale and poem. But tonight I plan to do something entirely new. You see tonight I will not be writing about what I did but will write about what I did not do today; amazingly there are a lot of things I did not do today far more that I realized, so this is just a small list merely scratching the surface so to speak

I did not actually scratch the surface (despite the old saying which implied I did)

I have not watched a small snail travel across a large stone

I did not sneak up on the international space station and shout BOO at the astronauts

I never waved a pointy stick at a group of little old ladies who were chasing swans

I never ate a large snake

I did not run about shouting QUACK

And I never stood on my head on the ridge tiles of a very tall building

I did not wear a very very bright pink leopard print cowboy hat (AH DAMN actually I did do that today sorry)

I did not draw any pictures

I never spoke to a strange Zombie like creature who juggled mice and laughed in a hysterical manner

I never climbed a large mountain in a wet suit and slippers

I did not mutter under my breath at a load of cyclists on the road (AH DAMN sorry I did that today)

I was not caught leaping over the moon in a superman outfit

I never bought a superman outfit

I did nothing what so ever that had any link to anyone remotely resembling superman

I did not pretend to be a chicken and try to rob a bank

I never fixed a broken pen (OK I tried but it was futile)

I never did anything futile (AH DAMN AGAIN)

I did not see a submarine or a seagull

I did not sing old sea shanties at passers by

I did not deliberately avoid the cracks in the pavement (well not today)

And I did not sell any snow to penguins who might have been hanging about

I did not hang about

I did not write anything that might be considered remotely sensible by either that very nice Steven Spielberg or Mrs J K Rowling who its starting to think I'm mad

Neither Steven Spielberg or J K Rowling phoned me up to say . . . Nice Blog Rob, sorry about the injunction but you know what its like. . . . 

   

I was not bitten by a vampire bat or a Zombie

I never ate the tortoise. . . .Honest

I did not get wet

Anyway this as I have previously said is a very short abbreviated list of what I have not done today and I may tell you again at some time about what I have not done or I may not.

Poetry for the Apocalypse and Haiku for Harry Potter and Things

I live on a Post Apocalyptic Earth

Charred End to End

Right Round its Girth

With just a few Fish

Swimming about in the Sea

Some Insects and Beetles

A Fat Parrot

And ME

AH . . . . I Ate the Parrot

Haiku for Harry Potter

Harry Potter Likes His Cheese

Flying About

And Nesting in Trees

Poetry for things

A Pointy Thing

A Sharp Thing

A round Thing

A Piece of String

A Flat Thing

A Lumpy Thing

A Tiny Thing

A Cart Spring

And an odd Thing

That goes

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Ping

Batteries Not Included 

Catching up on things and stuff. NOT Harry Potter

We have almost come to the end of my own short Harry Potter season of posts and only have the big finale to go for Halloween which will be posted the day before because I suspect I will spend Halloween chasing horrible small children. Well I will if they turn up dressed as Zombies or the like shouting Trick or Treat. I find once you have a long pointy stick covered in blood and run after them shouting kill the Zombies they have a habit of shouting We are not Zombies we are small Children of course my response to this is That is what a Zombie would say but you cant fool me. . . . . Kill the Zombies.   But in recent years I have seen fewer small children at Halloween or any other time as it happens.

Yesterday I attempted to make a fake stained glass window and hammered some nails into some wood and sorted out some fairy lights for the fake stained glass widow (sorry Window). It was a long day and ended with an Indian takeaway . . .  A chicken dhansak, pulao rice and a huge king prawn butterfly.  The India always gives you huge amounts of food so tonight guess what I plan to eat for my evening meal.  I may have eaten it by the time this is posted as I have a drawing to do also. Today I have removed a bit of wallpaper with a steamer, this wallpaper is the most stuck on wallpaper I have ever come across, it is seriously stuck and has a lining paper which is just as bad. . . .PHEW. . . . Oooo I also moved some leaves but many leaves are still falling from the trees in the garden.

And last night at two in the morning the clocks went back an hour so two o’clock became one o’clock making today the longest day of the year in Britain by an entire hour. I hate this clock moving it just makes me jet lagged without being on a jet and for some time I will wander about like a Zombie groaning and pointing at clocks in a sort of angry looking way. I am already yawning and it is still early evening but pitch black outside.

Oooo I forgot to say yesterday I saw a lifelike Mechanical Hooting Owl that hooted most of the day until someone ran off with it in a bag saying . . . who’s a pretty boy then and Polly wants a rabbit. . .

I need to get back to my Professional Blogging and answer some of those Big Questions that folk are asking me, but I think that will be post Halloween now as I need to kill off Harry . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . DAMN I have ruined it for you all now and told you I kill off Harry and all his mates. . . . DAMN . .  Yes they are all goners and Hogwarts has to close . . . . DAMN . . . . I better go before I mention the cat and the large jug again. . . . . . . . . . . .DAMN. . . 

Perpetual Motion Machines and Naked Charity Calendars analyzed . . .(PART 2) and introducing Professor Brian Cox

After craftily skimming over all the issues involved in creating the ultimate nude charity calendar of Scientists and Perpetual Motion machines I think it is time to deal with the whole subject in more detail, fundamentally getting to the Bottom (no pun intended) of things.   Interestingly there are two very difficult issues to deal with in creating this particular nude charity calendar that need to be discussed. Firstly the Perpetual Motion Machine is a tricky device to create many have tried and failed, and secondly Scientists generally don’t appear on calendars naked.

Starting with basic principles we all know that a perpetual Motion Machine is a closed loop device and in order to work 100% of the energy in the loop has to stay in the loop. In the old days when man made rather nice Victorian looking machines (The so called Victorian Era) many a chap would construct things that had gears and weights that moved about in a grand fancy looking loop. Simply put they all worked on the same idea. . . .The thing being pushed or pulled was pushed or pulled by the thing pushing or pulling it . . . . (Remember for later)  Simple yes but flawed because of the unseen losses in the loop none of the devices were true closed loop systems. They all were subject to the laws of physics and so gravity results in friction, heat loss, energy lost to the outside environment in small but significant ways, resulting in a less than 100% energy transfer around the loop and failure.

So I can here you type if you are such a smart arse what is the solution to these issues that have left the world of science and even that Professor Brian Cox floundering about scratching their heads and saying . . . . . It’s the engines Captain they’ll nay take it. . . . . Hang on that’s not right.  Well the solution is simple yet extremely difficult and very small. Yes there is only one way to beat the world of the basic laws of Physics and that is to use Quantum Mechanics and make a Sub Atomic Particle Perpetual Motion Machine.  It sounds tricky you would need better eyesight than I have but once you get that small stuff changes and gets weird really weird. Particles can be made to be in two different places at the same time. Remember what I wrote earlier . . . . The thing being pushed or pulled was pushed or pulled by the thing pushing or pulling it . . . . Well with a Sub Atomic Particle Perpetual Motion Machine it changes to . . . . . .  The thing being pushed or pulled is pushed or pulled by two things that were pushed or pulled by it. . . . . . In other words it has a boast of energy in the loop in order to keep it going for eternity or in other words Perpetual Motion or Perpetual Energy. It is why atoms never stop moving and stuff like that.

            

OK tomorrow we can integrate this into the bigger picture for June on the ultimate nude charity calendar of Scientists and Perpetual Motion Machines, and then I will be available for a Nobel Prize round about Christmas. That’s if some Scientist does not nick my idea first, mentioning no names Mr Professor Brian Cox. . . . .  or Mr October as he is know.

Mud, trucks, Curry and Corrugated Steel.

It is getting late; we sat down to eat a takeaway Indian curry from the rather good Indian restaurant in Montgomery some time ago and then chilled (as in relax not get cold), after a busy day.  It was a bit of a shock first thing this morning as we had to get up earlyish and head off to Mr M’s house to help move beds and shift corrugated tin sheeting and wood, we teamed up with Mr S and Mrs E (formally Miss I) who had been given a load of corrugated tin sheeting and wood by Mr M who is poorly in hospital. All sort of went well until it was time for Mr S and Mrs E to head off which involved turning a small truck round to get it back down his very dodgy track, and it sort of got stuck in the mud. It is very very muddy at Mr M’s house so this was not ideal and despite using planks and the like the truck was well stuck, so we had to resort using our trusty car to help without getting the car stuck also. This proved to be successful although we were all a bit done in afterwards and Mr S and Mrs E had to then whiz off to unload and return the truck to its home.

We then sorted a few things in Mr M’s house as his son is due to arrive for a couple of days, up from the great metropolis tomorrow.  And then we went off to see Mr M although he was not all that good today and had only eaten half a dried scone all day.  We were not with him too long as other visitors arrived so we returned home we were definitely flagging by then (that’s getting tired not waving flags)

It has now got very windy and wet which was what was meant to happen on the day of the great storm but did not, these things tend to happen on the English Welsh borders all the time stuff happens down south and then many moons later it turns up here. It is rumoured that we are one of the few parts of the world left where our phones are still connected to walls with wires and we heat our houses with sheep’s legs (sorry I mean logs).

The Ghost Writer also found something he made twenty years ago that he cant remember making although it is plainly clear he made it because he put his name on it, although he will admit he cant remember what he was called twenty years ago, but he thinks it was the same as he is called now, well that’s not very nice………..

I hope this makes sense my brain is not entirely working 100% due to a busy day.   

The Micro God of Beaches, ropes and locks

It has been a funny old day, the weather here was very overcast and sort of OK but not like yesterday or tomorrow (I have kicked the weather machines side panel) hot and sunny, and my day has sort of ticked along with the usual quantum physics and woodwork plus the rather more useful lesson of locksmithing,  and the skills of unlocking locks that prefer to remain locked. Of course this is a huge area of expertise because not only does it include the humble padlock but of course there are many unseen mathematical locks, things that appear to be physically locked to something by forces unknown.  

For example Miss I and Mr S have told me that they were unable to collect a huge rope from the beach because if was locked to the beach by fate and the Micro God of Beaches, and apparently it was also very heavy.

But using the great skills of Locksmithing it would be possible to untangle the forces that held the huge rope to the beach and transport it many miles to me, where I would look with wonder upon the huge rope while the massed masses looking would say WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THAT . . . . . . . . . And I would reply AH?

People do things like this all the time when folk stumble on artefacts of wonder which are of no practical use what so ever, they ask but what do you intend to do with it. But you see this is what makes us humans what we are, the ability to appreciate the great possibilities of completely useless items. Would my diary exist if it was an item of pure functionality with no need for the frivolity of imagination and unpractical reams of gobbledegook, you see my diary is just like this huge monster rope (Note Mr S’s shoes by the rope) of no practical use and frayed at the end. Well when I say of no practical use I lie as it is my long term memory,  well when I say long term I mean more that three days ago.

Farwell rope I hope the world treats you fairly and does not just string you along . . . . . . . . . .HAHAHAHHAH hahah ah ah haah hahha hah ah hahahhahah hahahah hahahahhah ahhah ahahhahahahaha

it’s a joke but Knot a good one  HaAHAHAHAH ah hah ah ah ah ha hah ah hah ah ah ha hah ah ha hah ah ah ah ahha a   

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Madras Fudge and Three Fish

There I was this morning listening to Radio Four as I do in order to know what events have been happening in the world overnight that may require me to hide under a table or run screaming to my nuclear bunker as I fight off Zombies and other monsters that have invaded the area under the cover of darkness. Since we moved to our present home in the quiet (very quiet) rolling hills of the English Welsh borders I have thought it would be the perfect place to invade planet Earth. What with plenty of open fields but with enough cover to avoid to much interest, and a local population who will tolerate aliens as long s they are not noisy or start messing with local events.

Hang on what was I talking about; AH yes, Radio Four and the today program. As I lay in bed thinking I might get up as all is OK in the world a news story suddenly started talking of extinction, one of those news stories that might be important after all I am not expecting to become extinct for ages yet. But it tuned out to be a fish that is due to become extinct (from Africa) and all that remained of the species are three fish in London Zoo (I think) who are all male, what rather amused me though (I know I should not be amused by demise of a fish) was that the last known female of the species had been eaten by one of the males in a breading accident. I felt I was allowed to snigger at the plight of this fish as eating your last breading partner is to put it bluntly stupid and I can imagine the other two males looking at the third one and shouting IDIOT rather a lot.

It was also the local market day today and so I have bought Marmite Fudge and Madras Fudge from the Chocolate Man (yes I explained last week he is not made of chocolate (I assume), so I now have photographic evidence of the reality of these products. Although I thought the Marmite fudge tasted OK so I plan to eat all of that at some point so as the Ghost Writer would say if you ask me nicely to try some Ya Sucks Boo . . . . . Its my Fudge and I’m not playing.  Sometimes I think I need a better Ghost Writer I an starting to get as bad as he is.

I did other things today but they were not interesting and the weather was rubbish most of the time with sudden appearances of the sun, which would then vanish in seconds. I think we have a faulty Weather machine again . . . . . . . . . DAMN.

Madras Fudge

Thoughts on thinking and other things, (but not Steven Spielberg)

Today has been rather tough you see something terrible happened that involved the use of thought; it was what is known as thinking. I can see the look of shock in your faces as I say this. Well I can’t see it but I know it is there because the alternative would be ambivalence and that does not bear thinking about, particularly after a day spent thinking about other stuff.  Actually I probably don’t mean ambivalence thinking about it I probably mean indifference or even worse ordinariness. Thoughts of creating ordinariness after an entire day of thinking is the sort of thing that the Greek Gods would worry about and the reason the Roman Empire fell in such a spectacular fashion all those years ago, and mark my words no such think is going to happen in my diary.

So what was it I was thinking about I hear you say, again I cant hear you say but I know that deep down you just need to know and it is going to be a bit of a shock to almost all of you. I say almost because there is always some smart character out there lurking in a doorway who will say I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO SAY THAT, but the truth is I can’t remember. 

Still there is one great advantage in not remembering what I spent the day thinking about; it means I do not need to tell you what it was now because I can’t. And that is rather useful because it is now getting rather late and I will be heading off to bed very soon. 

I have been told by the Ghost Writer the brain is very clever and deletes all none important information and so all that remains are the critical items of information which make us tick and function.  The result of this is apparently a diary that is lean mean and concise with no spurious data that is not needed in order for it to be a functional and interesting which is damn lucky, I don’t think that Steven Spielberg would appreciate something that rambles on for ever.

It also appears the Ghost Writer has also been using his brain today in looking at a whole new national database and then sorting PC’s and printers, He also says he reckons that Steven Spielberg might like to make a film about a mad IT expert who has lost the plot . . . . . . .mum says the Ghost Writer is an IDIOT. . . . . . . I think I agree that sounds rubbish.

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The Washing Machine and the Gremlins

Our rather, not very good washing machine which will do strange things just for the hell of it sometimes, because it’s a washing machine and it under the delusion it is normal, has finally decided enough is enough. If we want to spin clothes to get them dry then it has let us know in no uncertain terms we need to do this ourselves by running in circles very fast. Dad has used his vast knowledge of electro-mechanical machines that like water to try and coax it back from sulk mode, the machine however just sort of twitched and mumbled at him. He then tried to give it a good beating with a large hammer but it did not help. So Mum and dad decided to purchase a new washing machine online using a small square bit of plastic, something called a credit card. They almost never do this it is very unusual indeed, so unusual that their bank did not allow the transaction several times and they only managed to do it after several phone calls explaining that they were in fact really trying to buy a washing machine to wash things in.

It was very frustrating and took ages so dad decided it was all the fault of the old washing machine and went and gave it a jolly good thrashing just to let it know who is boss. The good news is there is definitely one washing machine on its way to the house but the bad news is that like busses it is just possible that after years of never buying a new washing machine 15 of them will all turn up at once.

Yesterday the man on the BBC weather forecast on the wireless said it was going to be hot and sunny all day but it has not been hot and it was rather cloudy, I do wish they would tell us the truth it is very difficult when they do these sneaky things. Anyway I am not sure what happened to the day it just sort of faded away and all of a sudden it is dark. In fact it is getting dark earlier and earlier here in Britain and in two weeks time Great Britain does its ritual of moving all the clocks by an hour, so the good news is we will all get to have a lie in and still get up early but the bad news is by 5:00 pm it will be well dark and I will be jet lagged for about a week.

I have finally found my two posh microphones (OK not very posh) so I will be able to record myself drumming very soon which is sort of good for me, but maybe not so good for you and I have also found most of the leads that connected up all the little boxes that need to be connected in the big orange room. I might have to make a tombstone or two, as the last surviving member of the Monty Cardboard Robot Club, for someone who needs tombstones.

OK that’s it all a bit random today but it has been a random sort of day.

  

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The strange robot like person.. Drums and straw bails

The strange robot like person in the silver suit who bleeps a lot and draws pictures of ancient mythical creatures no longer bleeps they now speak a bit like Stephen Hawkins, although they hate maths. So it was a bit of a shock to most of the pupils to discover that the strange robot like person in the silver suit who bleeps a lot and draws pictures of ancient mythical creatures is in fact Esmeralda or as she called herself ESsss…..MERRRRRR….ELDER, just as we were getting used to calling her Bleep.  I did warn Brian not to snigger and so it is his own fault that he had ‘Never snigger at bionic people’ tattooed on his head with her interchangeable clip on power drill hand attachment. She also told him that he had to tell his parents he accidently walked into a door and it is just a scratch or else.

I did have my suspicions all those mythical creatures that looked vaguely like goats being catapulted towards the supermarket with I Hate Goats written in red was a bit of a give away really.  Still this does not tell you much about what I did today does it.  I have been drumming this evening with my drumming colleague but it is not easy to drum when the Ghost Writer is complaining about having to go all the way to Brecon this afternoon just to fix a problem in 3minutes and 22 seconds on a computer and then driving all the way back again.  And wondering why there are so many square straw bails about this year rather that the round ones, because it means that they (the square bails) can be stacked really high on trailers, and then the trailers can be pulled really slowly by tractors on the main road for miles between Brecon and here.

Not really sure what I did other than drum today although I have lost some smallish bits that attach larger bits together that then make loads of noise, but without the small bits the large bits will make no noise. I do not like making no noise I am not that sort of person…….

Oooooooo before I forget …..I MMMMmmmmmmm forgot …….DAMN Ah yes how come we have such weird phones?

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An alternative assessment of the closing ceremony of the London Olympic Games and the Olympic Legacy

I am late very very late, in fact it is tomorrow now because of this …….AH. Anyway the reason for this late diary entry was to watch the closing ceremony of the London Olympic Games to see how it faired. It all went remarkably well as it happens; although on a personal level, I sort of felt they tried to squeeze a bit much in.

As always happens in these things the athletes took just a bit longer than they are meant too to get into place and the subtle herding towards the end got a bit less subtle. And it all got off to a flying start with loads of good music and clever little quirky classic British stuff.  But then it sort of just lost its way as it run into Fat Boy slim and the like.

But then all was saved by Eric Idle Singing 'Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life' a true classic of what Britain is all about and the perfect song to confuse a fair percentage of the worlds countries. And Brian May was really good too, just a shame that Freddie is dead; a bit like John Lennon, what I particularly liked about John Lennon’s performance was that although he is dead he did a much better job of it than Paul did at the start.

I thought it rather interesting that bearing in mind the Olympic stance on Drug taking that a fair number of the featured music was from groups and musicians who have over the years taken one or two substances that would be a little frowned on in the test lab. I also thought that the roller-skating nuns was a sneaky and cunning way to upset one or two of the more strict catholic countries, along with the some of the more scantily clad people. However we did throw in some morris dancers just so they know us Brits are WELL COOL and a man on a high wire who set fire a shop clothes dummy……. Yes only us Brits would do that….

Sadly I saw the spice girls but they were not on long and seem to have lost the knack a bit (maybe it just me, I was never a fan)

I rather liked the little Rio bit the classic seventies flared cat suits and afro hair was brill as was Elvis. You see Rio were able to raise Elvis from the dead, now that really is Cool, we tried to trump this with a neat trick at the end by putting The Who centre stage, a damn clever move they no doubt remember those flared cat suits and Elvis like it was yesterday.

Talking of yesterday, this is yesterdays diary entry because today is today …….. DAMN I said that at the start ……..GOODNIGHT ALL.

One final point……  I would just like to point out that the Olympic Game legacy has finally taken root in that closing Olympic Ceremony ……. We all want to play guitar like Brian May…………. sod all that running about 

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Steven Spielberg, eye tests, cars and The Inland Revenue

Several things have happened today, OK not very exciting things bearing in mind this online diary in its various formats is the basis of a forthcoming Steven Spielberg film based on the block buster best selling books (yes we are getting towards the end of book two, sort of). The first thing is the weather has been rather wet, mmmmmm very wet, just think that only a few days ago we were all desperate for some cooler weather and today was like the worse day in December.  This is classic British weather at its best, love it or hate it (OK just hate it), but it is why we (us Brits) are so boring when we discuss the weather.

As you all know the paperwork for Mr Napoleon Beelzebub’s Very Strange Curiosity Shop has all been completed now and today it was delivered to the accountant in order to keep the Inland Revenue happy, To tell the truth it is better if the tax man is not smiling at you, dad always says if the tax man is smiling make sure the flamethrower  is to hand in order to defend yourself. Or get Benny Neckbender to make a load of money sharpish, which at present is not an option as he is on holiday with the queen, and some IDIOT accidently let slip about today’s escape plan in his diary (sorry Benny).

I went for an eye test today, everyone says that they can only assume I have really bad eye sight at present or I would not write complete rubbish and make so many mistakes writing complete rubbish.  The Optician says that my eye sight has not changed that much it is still rubbish; and without my glasses on I could not see the board with the letters on to tell him what the letters are. As it happened I could not see him either so it took a few minutes to realize it was him telling me to read the letters, not a passing stranger.  I have learn that what ever I do I don’t take my glasses off these days, because I cant find them again to put them back on in order to see them to put them on.  So my eye sight is OK with my glasses on.

Then we all went off to get dads prescription from the doctors, it is apparently something that happens as you get older, at some point a doctor will go AH you need to take one of these every day. Then by the time you get to great great grannies age you get a huge jar of assorted tablets that you pick and mix because you can’t remember what is for what or when you are meant to take them. It appears great great granny knows she has nine or was it nineteen pills a day but it appears that it is then pot luck it could be nine of anything, I am told that this is quiet normal after a certain age and most pensioners are downing an unknown assortment of pills with a glass a economy whiskey most evening all over the western world.

OK I better go but I also bought more stone effect paint today and went to see family members with a car that is OK but only when it is not moving. There are apparently lots of cars like this in the world that are a bit dodgy like great great granny and only any good when the don’t move much. 

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By the way I feel I should mention that this is post number 500 so I am personally quite impressed with that. As some of you know the aim to to reach a total of one million words and I think I am about a third of the way to achieving that. I then plan to stop but we will see, I need to get there first

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The Cultural Olympian .....It is not the winning it is the taking part

I have been working on the Olympic Sculpture today, The Cultural Olympian. As a rebel it is good to make something that is not about ripping off the masses for thousands of pounds. I have seen a few bits of art involved in the Cultural Olympiad, some good and some just rubbish.

So just for tonight I am breaking with tradition and not writing a diary entry, but making a point that art should be about the vision and the visual, not necessarily the same thing. Too much of the art today is gimmicky dross involving no talent.

I am not particularly talented, and making things out of old cardboard boxes means I will never make a penny out of what I do. Me and that Van Gogh bloke have a lot in common, although I am not cutting my ear off and my stuff will never sell for millions ever because it is cardboard. But someone somewhere should say that the conceptual art trend is dead; it’s been done to death, it a deceased concept, bereft of life it has gone to him who must be obeyed, it is lost, a stiff, its mortal coil unravelled and become trendy easy crap sold for lots of money . My own idea to illustrate this is a life size model of the Flying Scotsman made in frozen gravy called, yes yes you have guessed it ‘The Gravy Train’ ……………. HAH HAHHAH HAHH HAHH Ahah ahahh hah hah hahaha hah hah

In the mean time here are a few more pics of the Olympian he still needs flames and a plinth plus a few things but it is now starting to look like he should look. All we need now is someone too put on some Olympics somewhere conveniently to hand.

It is not the winning it is the taking part

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How to plot a TRAPEZOIDAL TANGENTIAL TRIANGULAR route on a map and the Chinese Takeaway

I have just finished a cup of tea (I like it weak with loads of milk and sugar) and am now contemplating T, not the drink I just drank, or the Tibetan Tortoise and Tartar Toasted Tart with Tamarind and Tomato Topping which we were going to have for Tea (as in Dinner). Well we were until the Ghost Writer traumatized the trades people who were due to fit our carpet, and had telephoned to play tactics and tell us they needed to delay everything yet again until at least tomorrow.

The Ghost Writer as you know is a Techy and IT guru for Citizens Advice, Trading Standards and Napoleon Beelzebub’s now X shop, and said Turn up or Terrible torments of Trigonometry and Trogan Trolls will Trigger the Termination of your Trade in Cyberspace. Anyway an hour later the carpet is being laid WELL COOL.  The result is our evening meal in now a Chinese Takeaway……. So YUM Well Tasty.

At school Mr Tailor the Maths Teacher was saying that the Tangent to the Trapezium was TECHNICALLY TRANSVERSE the total Trapezoid’s Transverse Triangle. The class all nodded knowingly but the truth was no one knew what he was talking about. Then in the Geography Class Mr Truman said; we will do Topography today so plot a Trapezoidal Tangential Trianglar route on your map to the top of table top Mountain using the traditional Tourist track or the tricky Tribal trail through the  Tundra and tropical trees ………WHAT? In English Mrs Thomas said we must not start our sentences with a T in fact it is best avoiding words starting in T altogether ……………………AH. Then Esmeralda Threw a Pink ToeD Tarantula at her. Mrs Thomas is going to have therapy tomorrow and maybe some Transcendental meditation for trauma caused by a Tarantula.

The Trials and Tribulations of life are taking there toll now so time to tackle the trillion other tasks

 The carpet men have gone now and still have work to do but at least they have done the main bits…… they said they will be back tomorrow, a Letter U day; the day of the Un-dead so they better watch out or else  
    

I cant think of a better piece of music for today (above)


and (for Mr ESB, Mr H & Miss Lily)
It takes Much longer to get up north the long way

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