The A to Z Challenge . . . . APRIL 2013 . . . . A Promotional Advert

An ADVERT for the A to Z Challenge 2013

Yes sorry this is a promotional advert for a blogfest called the A to Z Challenge which starts on the 1^st April with ‘A’ and then continues through the month until it reaches ‘Z’ when everyone cheers and says PHEW  . . . . What made me enter that? . . . . . . O my GOD. I can say that because I did it last year and it is not something I did by halves as I’m an all or nothing sort of eccentric child of cyberspace.

But you do not have to go for overkill like me and if you are worried about posting everyday for a month then write as much as possible in advance and keep it as simple as you can cope with, it is not a competition after all but a way to meet other bloggers and a chance to profile your own blog to others. Last years started with only a few short of 2000 blogs and with about a month to go the list is just under 1000 so it is a big blogging event and is also well organized and run.

 

So lets take A for example one approach would be as follows

 APPLE

Yes the apple is a fruit that grows on trees (I think), it might be green or red or green and red or even a sort of yellowish green. They are often used to make pies and are useful to hide drugs in that make princesses sleep for a very long time or until some interfering prince comes along and ruins things.

Or in a sneak exclusive preview of what I have written for the letter A based on my theme for this year of fairy-tales  (you will end up reading it again on the 1^st April), and I must warn you I cant type or spell.  

The Slightly eccentric A to Z blogging adventure of unknown and rather unpopular Modern fairy tales

A  King Alfonso the Architect and Princess Alice

A long long time ago in the Albanian artisan town of Alexandria the aristocracy applauded the albino king, King Alfonso the Architect whose alluring arches were applied to all his amphitheatres and aqueducts with great approval. King Alfonso’s Aunt Annabel had an attractive daughter called Princess Alice who was rather aloof and who had the aristocracy wrapped around her finger. King Alfonso the Architect announced one afternoon in August that who ever could turn Aluminium into Gold using the astonishing powers of alchemy could marry Princess Alice. Alice abruptly argued aloud at one and all about such arrangements, and said that it was appalling and did not appeal at all. But once the king announces an announcement it is announced.

The Abyssinian Association of advanced alchemist’s interest was aroused by the announcement and the allure of absolute power was appealing. And as we all know the Abyssinian Automatic alabaster android of Abyssinia is an aficionado of the art of alchemy. King Alfonso the ARCHITECT had absolutely no advanced knowledge of the Abyssinian Association of advanced alchemist’s and had not anticipated the arrival of Albert the Abyssinian Automatic alabaster android at all.  Princess Alice was aghast and again argued aggressively about it to the Archbishop, but it was accepted by the Archbishop that the king’s word was absolute so if the Alabaster android made gold from aluminium then marriage it was.

 Albert the Abyssinian Automatic alabaster android smiled and rubbed acids and acorns on the aluminium ingot plus the arm of an armadillo and an anchovy from the Atlantic, said abracadabra, ate an apple and ping, bright shiny gold appeared. Princess Alice said AAAAAAAuuuuuuuucgghhhh and found herself walking down the aisle towards the archbishop. And before you could say Rumblestilskin was on her honeymoon in the Alps.

As it appens (sorry happens) Albert the Abyssinian Automatic alabaster android was a nice android and Albert and Alice lived appily (sorry happily) ever after .

So there you have it, if I am mad enough to do it we are all mad enough to do it after all it is only 26 letters or was it 27? 

(two posts in one day is getting silly) 

Trenches Zombies and Piranha Fish

Footprints were found the wrong side of the impenetrable defence trench this morning by the dog and after some sniffing a bit of forensic investigation and internet research, the dog concluded that they were the footprints of crunchy zombies but with a soft mint filling. The dog said he hates the taste of those ones so I will would have to work on the defences AGAIN, it all seemed like a jolly good idea at one point but this is turning into hard work now. . . . . .PHEW.

So I have been digging a new trench today that will link up with the one that is now full of water and slimy stuff and piranha fish. It is a logistical nightmare because if I break into the trench full of nasty slimy water full of piranha fish too early while I am still in it I am at risk of ending up slimy smelly and full of bites.  The dog is being awkward too and says he prefers Cod and that piranha are not great eating unless they are deboned and turned into  piranha fish curry, I know he’s a dog he eats bones but he says all those little bones are just tooooooo fiddly to mess about with (that dog is getting fussy).

So that was my day building a zombie defence trench, not exciting at all in fact rather a fairly average day in the life of an average chap living near a wood with free range zombies living in it. Well that is never going to impress that Steven Spielberg is it.

Oooo I did see some sort of weird micro-light thing in the sky toward the end of the day, although Mr Jones did say that I was an IDIOT and it was an alien scout craft looking for a suitable landing spot for the mothership. Personally I think it is far too cold to be running about in the woods in the nude chasing aliens, but it keeps Mr Jones happy. Although he has just said he nearly fell down my impenetrable defence trench last night in the dark and had to leap over it to avoid a fish leaping at his naught bits  . . . . . . . . . Mmmmmmm I think the dog’s zombie research might have gone wrong a bit.   

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the Impenetrable Defence Trench and Rose's Pawn Shop

Well it has been a lovely day today, in fact it has been the sunniest day of the year so far, something I can say with a certain degree of certainty because the solar panels on the roof has generated just under eighteen kilowatts so far today and although the sun is now vanishing fast at the time of writing this are still producing about 300 watts.

As those of you who read yesterdays diary entry will know we were off out at a musical shindig last night with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane in was in the Priest Weston village hall, now this is not a large village hall and Priest Western itself is a tiny place up on a hill accessible by little single track roads. The parking for the village hall is the farmers working yard opposite the village hall, so we were not sure what to expect really, because it is hardly the sort of venue frequented by major touring bands. But it was a really great evening; the band, called Rose's Pawn Shop, play country rock and had flown in from California only 48 hours earlier and this was their first UK gig (I think). And I have to say they were one of the best bands we have heard in years, and as dad is really old he has been around for loads of years. So I will say if you get a chance to go and see Rose's Pawn Shop play then it is well worth while, dad even bought their CD’s and he is well mean normally.

Their web site is Rose's Pawn Shop

Also in passing I mentioned I was digging a defensive trench to keep out zombies (you cant be too cautious with zombies) well I was back at it again today at first these things look like fun but then you realize that a defensive trench to stop zombies is trickier than it looks, although there is no denying that zombies are not the brightest sparks in the world. But they are persistent little beasts and you can’t rely on a dog eating them, as the dog says himself, he only likes the chewy ones, and the crunchy ones and those with creamy centres don’t taste the same, so he has a habit of ignoring those ones. I also did some clever engineering with the deep dark damp muddy hole which still needs loads of work doing on it but we are all sticking our fingers in our ears and going LA LA LA LALA LAL ALLALLLALALLLA a lot. OK yes I connected the long defensive trench to the dark damp muddy hole . . . . .AH YUCK, well no zombie with any sense is going to attempt to cross over that defence trench it is almost impenetrable.

You notice I said almost this is because when I was building it and then connected it to the dark damn muddy hole I discovered I was in fact  on the wrong side of the impenetrable defence trench which had two cats looking at me and meowing because they wanted food on the other side. So I was forced into crossing the impenetrable defence trench which was not nice and I got a bit muddy and manky . . . . YUCK, mum said IDIOT and dad turned the hosepipe on me although he did say he thought I was a Zombie with a soft creamy middle what with the smell and the mud. 

OK that’s it I am off now to do nothing . . . . . . 

Music and the archaeological dig for shins

We are off to a little shindig tonight at a village hall with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane, I assume by the name it must be some sort of archaeological dig for shins . . . . AH mum has said IDIOT and that it is a musical shindig? To me that’s sounds even stranger if we are searching for shins I would like to know how we are meant to tell a musical one from an ordinary everyday one  . . . . . AH mum has said IDIOT again  . . . . . . . . Oooooooooo hang on mum is explaining. . . . . . . . . . . .WHAT?

So exactly how can a shindig be a small musical event in a village hall in the wilds of the Welsh border hills, who came up with that name it completely misleading.

The point is though, I have very little time to write and may not be in a position to write when I return as it will probably be later and I will be tired. Not from leaping about because I fall over if I try doing that, and not from drinking as I don’t drink, what with being the Young Eccentric Child of cyberspace, more as the result of digging a long defensive trench between us and the wood to the side of our house as the zombies are moving about what with the first signs of spring and the like.

OK that’s it for now as I am not allowed to go to a shindig covered in mud so must go and de-mud myself. . . . . . . . . .

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