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.

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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  . . . . . 

Long arms and Geckos

We are lucky here in that life is still fairly chilled and in Christmas holiday mode, yes we are very lucky indeed what with a myriad of jolly presents and lots of food and everything going sort of to plan I am pleased to say all is well. Well I say all is well as it appears the rather interesting Steam Powered Gecko has been a bit of a pest having run about on the PC monitor for a while and has taken to eating Santa pictures. However many in the UK have been having a tricky time over Christmas with a complete lack of power so that in order to eat their Christmas dinner it needed to be wrapped in clay and cooked in a bonfire like they use to do in the old days with hedgehogs. This was in the old days when there were loads of hedgehogs and it was not regarded as bad form to eat them; things changed once the hedgehog became a cute beast in children’s books although it has not stopped their decline in numbers. Anyway to get back to the point you can’t cook a turkey in a bonfire when there is a flood, but there does seem to be a modern trend to build houses on flood plains in Britain which ruins the habit of hedgehogs and makes it impossible to cook a turkey in a bonfire (or an oven) during a flood.

The only thing useful I have done today is try old clothes on to see what can go to the charity shop, run my Mrs E in Newtown. This however has revealed that something strange is happening because I have noticed a lot of my old clothes appear to have shrunk by just sitting there in a cupboard for a long period of time. I know for sure that it is the clothes shrinking rather than me growing because of my arms; you see arms get to a certain length and then stop getting any longer, but clothes that had arms that were the right length once, now have arms that are to short. I pointed out to the others here that my arms are not growing, but everyone insisted that my arms are getting longer and I may be turning into a large ape. In fact there is a so called scientific theory that says if a man writes an infinitely number of words he eventually write the complete works of a large number of monkeys.  It also appears that arm length is directly proportional to the distance you sit from the keyboard while typing.  I have been told that one of the reasons the iphone and tablet style devices are so popular is the fact they do not have keyboards and folk believe this will avoid the risk of their arms growing in length.

I do have one question though I can’t answer and that is . . . . . If my arms are getting longer as I get older why is it getting harder to reach my feet. . . . . . This is a paradox and that is for sure…..

You will notice most of what I have written tonight is rubbish; however I am not going to let writing rubbish get in the way of completing my best selling Blockbuster Diary. 

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