Baby

That excellent man Mike has posted a short rant opinion on those folks who insist on placing stickers like the one above in their car windows. The idea is that you will drive carefully because there is a child in the car. This means that a single person, usually a male, is a target I suppose? This is so typical of parents today. In days of yore a child was born, raised, and life continued. In the last thirty years the feminist lie has made women see themselves as the only person in the world, as if they needed encouragement to do this? Women who are boasting to their friends that they are a 'proper woman' now they have had a child impress no-one, but annoy plenty. Also the 'New Man' phenomena, in which a 'man' behaves like his wife, although he probably doesn't marry her because that is a mere 'bit of paper,' this type of 'man' ensures he changes nappies, irons his shirts and even cooks the dinner. It makes you wonder why he bothered buying her in the first place doesn't it? He walks down the street pram pushing and showing of his kid to the world.


Let me tell these parents a secret, the world doesn't care!


The world has also pushed prams, but did not ensure the 'right people' noticed. The world has also shown consideration to children, but in an appropriate manner, the world has also changed nappies and does not wish to do so again, and the world finds this obsession with children a pain in the potty! It is important that car drivers show consideration to all the other idiots on the road, not just 'yummy mummies' with their bairns. It is important that men show care for their child, but not just because it is a passing fashion she has read about in a magazine! It is time folks considered that others were as important as their offspring, and encouraged the 'fruit of their loins' to do likewise. That way the world would be a better place.

Paul McIlroy

Following on from the excellent disused rail stations of yesterday, which only a woman could object to, I came across this picture on 'Geograph,' this evening. As you can tell, this is Dunfermline Town Station! This station of course used to be known as 'Dunfermline Lower' because of the other station called, cleverly, 'Dunfermline Upper,' They knew how to name things in the old days! Being deprived by a lack of money our holidays in the days of steam trains often took us to relatives in Fife, either Cowdenbeath or Dunfermline, and I have fond memories of the excellent people found there. On the whole good times, although I was often bored in Dunfermline and found myself wandering along to the railway to gaze at passing steam engines that thundered along this busy line. Pacific's headed from London to Aberdeen, sometimes the 'Mallard' type streamlined Pacific's' would pass, heavy goods trains, innumerable coal trains with fifty or more wagons trundling along from Fifes many pits, and all the local traffic you could wish for. I cannot ever mind of observing any of the diesel, 'Deltic' type, engines in use, but the imperialist English never allowed the Scots the latest traction, we only got the older stuff pushed up north out of their way! 

The station now looks forlorn, the buildings on the left hand side of the picture no more than shabby blocks which replace the intricate Victorian waiting rooms, with their intricate designs, and excellent cover, that once stood there. Now this station, once the main line for thousands passing by, which shook to the cries of the porters,passengers, and hissing engines, now finds one train an hour headed in either direction, mostly commuters aiming for work in Edinburgh. I suspect the photograph is taken from the old bridge where I used to hang over the side as trains passed beneath, enjoying the experience of being covered in steam from the engine. I found it hard to understand my mothers complaints about my 'black face' as the steam was always white! Women, they have no understanding or heart for things of value, have they? 

Today

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Today I sat around feeling completely knackered. Not that you care of course! The sickness that never leaves me (sickness as in illness not mental derangement I mean) plus two short days of work are really wearing me out here! I was so tired Tuesday night I could not sleep properly! Today in an attempt to find my mind I wandered out across the park, breathing in the sweet perfume of the newly mown grass, and evading the psychotic mower driver as he swept past vacant expression on his face, and I wandered along enjoying the remnants of warmth in the air.
I did not find my mind, I did find an interesting cloud cover above me however. The weather racing on from the east coast of the USA, another item they dump on us, brought strange clouds and as I took the picture, rain! I made it home, limping for effect and impressing nobody, just before it began to teem down. The driest county in England - once again saturated! The farmers will be pleased, I'm not, especially with the shoes beginning. to fall apart.  However I am not one to complain as you know, so I will just keep rolling along....

   


Stupid boy! Craig Thomson gets sent off playing against Falkirk and tells the manager after the game, "My foot slipped." Quite clear on the pictures I saw later that the only thing to slip was his intelligence, he clearly stamped the man with his right foot! Idiot! This is a player with great 'potential.' Most of them are of course and this was really has what it takes to reach the top. However he has much to learn in the game and keeping control is one of them. Other clubs will now attempt to annoy him and get him to retaliate, leaving him once again off the field. Had he remained playing the other night we may well have won the game, going forward we appeared to be doing well. It is defensively that we struggle at the moment. Sort yourself out Craig or your career will fall apart!

Subterranea Britannica

This is brilliant!

If you are the type, like me, who likes to wander around disused premises reliving the lives that once occurred there, then this is for you! The site takes you to links of underground Britain, the places you may have heard of but never wandered into. One part of the site leads to the nuclear bunkers that litter the countryside. (There is one near here. It can be found by following the road signs to the 'Secret Bunker!') 

Amazing how many of these are now on sale to those so inclined, and just as amazing how many are still secret! A variety of disused military bases of various kinds from times past, industrial buildings, Mines, and my favourite section - disused Railway Stations! Who can fail to love an old railway station? This site, and it's many links are a great way to spend several hours far from the maddening crowd!

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This Poster

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This poster appears to be the most popular item searched for on my blog! Here am I attempting to change the world and the millions of readers (all right I here you!) just want to look at this poster and keep it for themselves. This speaks volumes for my readers! I need not delay you with the post that accompanied it of course, I am not the one to repeat myself am I, especially as most of you ignored it then anyway! However while perusing the referrals I found one or two surprises. Clearly several folk are studying Victorian politics as the 'Adullamites,' a group of young MPs in the nineteenth century, attract much interest and some find their way to my blog through a Google search for them. There length of stay at my blog never beats one second! .  There are a few Germans, of all people, who search for Sir John de Stricheley, one of those imperialist English knights who attempted to steal Stirling Castle and the country in which it was built. He is still there defending it of course, they found his bones under one of the old chapels when renovating the place a few years ago. Obviously I am to conclude that my posts are of no interest to the world. I may have to divert into a wider range of subjects. 

I must also point out that the Heart of Midlothian travelled up to Inverness and defeated the local side there by three goals to one. For TV reasons this game kicked off at midday, and I remembered this at about twenty minutes past! Still it could be worse. I once turned on the Edinburgh derby just in time for the final whistle! Boo! However the result today means the Hearts are back in third place in the league, the least position we ought to occupy. Maybe, possibly, hopefully we can improve on this, and there is much to improve in this side, and possibly we can be assured of a European place next season. maybe...

Thadguy.com

Thadguy, who's site is worth a browse, indicates a problem for me. In days past colds would last three days, and the side effects a week or two. This however is no longer the case. My cold has been running around my frail, delicate body for at least two months now. I get light headed for a day, the stomach is bloated for a day, the throat hurts for two or three days (most days at the moment) and then the cough that lingers almost for ever. Various symptoms come and go and just never end. In truth this has bugged me for years now,in fact this appears to have begun around 1987, before most of you were born!. A cold that once came and went just lingers on and on. Why? Nothing seems to help. When I was a postman it began to really interfere with me, leaving me more tired than I ought to be. Being unemployed ought to have ended this but the weariness in my head, and body, continues. It worries me regarding work. I do two days at the moment and the three days after this leave me suffering the symptoms greater than before. How can I keep a job when the various symptoms make me exhausted, and indeed extremely irritable?  (At this point I would like to apologise to the woman in the supermarket who I decapitated, and the man at the market who annoyed me by saying "Hello.' I hope his widow gets the pension OK.) Here I am again, tired, throat aching, my mind wandering all over the place as concentration is difficult, and nothing on TV to distract me and suffuse my mind with purpose and joy. It's a good job I am not one to complain you know!

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Pope

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Edinburgh Evening News

Watching the Pope greet the English queen and parade along Princes Street today I was struck by how reverential people were towards him and how smarmy the commentary was. The hangers on VIPs and the faithful gathered to meet him in Holyrood House were looking to him as if to a god, and that is the word to use. This irked me, and I am often irked, because at no time would the Apostles ever accept being regarded in such a manner. Peter and Paul and all the early Christians pointed people, all people, to Jesus the redeemer and refused reverence for themselves. Benedict may not look for such treatment but his position brings this to him like it or not.  


I followed his car through Edinburgh (on the TV, not in person like) and found myself wishing I was back there. Possibly this has more to do with the lack of gray clouds and driving rain than anything else. To see Edinburgh without such weather is indeed a miracle! Two or three things stood out for me and they are not all good. The commentators, all of them, were at their oleaginous best throughout. (OK, I did use a Thesaurus smart guy!) Enthusing about the 'enthusiasm' and the 'huge excitement,' and 'atmosphere,' all the usual flannel from commentators either truly impressed or sticking to the usual tried and true words for such an occasion, whether they fit or not! Language at such occasions is important as during a state funeral it is important not to say "Now comes the main body of the parade." The fact the Pope had a tartan scarf draped around him drew much acclaim (hooray!) and Scots pride was to the fore. The Saltires waved by the kids naturally drew comment, although Tony Blair would have replaced them with English flags had he been in power. Nonentities in the background spouted platitudes for this man, speaking of how wonderful, important and marvellous the visit was. (Whoopee). He brought one said, a message of 'Hope,' but what hope did she mean? Others spoke, with dripping tongues, of 'peace' and 'interfaith dialogue,' but what do they expect to get from that? People of faith (whatever that Labour spin word means) meet daily living their lives. What end does such 'dialogue' lead to? Flannel abounded this morning, alongside smiles and cheers. Prince Philip noticing all the tartan asked the female leader of the Tory Party (Who she?) "Are you wearing tartan knickers?" Diplomacy was never something ex sailors were asked to perform. 


Who is the Pope and what is the Roman Catholic Church?
From a Christian viewpoint the Pope is of no importance whatsoever! The church based in Rome was doing very well until the third or fourth century when things began to go wrong. With other major elders (The word 'Bishop' is best translated 'Elder' or 'Presbyter') around the Mediterranean world, Constantinople, Antioch and Alexandria to mention just three, Rome was no more important than anyone else, indeed much of the time it was of little importance to the rest of the world. There were constant theological disputes of course, some important some not, and eventually one elder at Rome decided to use the Apostle Peters death, believed to be in Rome around 64 a.d. and the line "You are Petras (Rock) and upon this rock I will build my church. I will give you the keys of heaven." (I am afraid I have forgotten the precise verse and which Pope this was 'Leo' I think. Google them!) However he was chancing his arm and this was a claim never made before. In the first century no church took precedence and none should do so today.


The Reformation arose because the Roman church had long forgotten the creator and had become a mere political power base. Christianity was attempted by many but the theology was often confused.  Luther, Calvin, Knox and others brought about a split between those who wished to know God and make him known, and the Roman church which sadly refused to change its ways. The fact that this is the 450th anniversary of the Reformation and the Pope comes to Edinburgh, one of the centres of this event through the work of John Knox has been noticed. Deliberate perhaps? During his speech the Pope did mention Margaret of Scotland, but appeared to forget our man John, absent minded maybe? The RC church has deviated far from Apostolic Christianity and sadly appears to be showing no wish to reform itself even now. Therefore from a Christian point of view the Pope is of no consequence. The bible, the revealed word of God, is the only guide.


There are many problems within the RC church. People forced into the role of nun or priest by family pressure fail to live according to their duty, and who can blame them. I have known some such and their troubles are many. Celibacy has destroyed many lives and requires to be dropped for humanity's sake if nothing else, it has no biblical foundation. The huge size of the organisation has allowed homosexuals and paedophiles to find places to hide themselves. Clearly the desperation to avoid scandal has led to cover ups a plenty, and of course many guilty men have wormed their way into top positions. Will they, I wonder, will they ever be revealed? A return to biblical truth, the end of the priesthood, (Jesus is the Great High Priest, and no man should stand between you and God bar Jesus the sacrificial offering and priest himself!) An honest clear out of criminal men is urgently required before the RC church can put this shady past behind them. Difficult though it may be and I suspect the next Pope will be the one who will have to finish this work.  


There are many good people amongst the Catholics. Many who work very hard for others throughout the world, often with little praise. These will always be ignored while the majority live a nominal faith and others hide behind the church and abuse the vulnerable. Such sin is of course found in other denominations, in large and small businesses, and possibly in the street where you live. Businesses and others also cover up their wrongdoers but when a church denomination does this it is a dreadful failure.  The desperation of some to meet the Pope, for a 'blessing' or just to meet the famous was indeed sickening however. The reverence for the man, the brown nosing by some, the lack of knowledge of biblical truth made me despair. Will this visit recharge the RC church? maybe. Will it be forgotten next week? Definitely!


An 'off the ball' slant on the visit.... 



The Pope comes to Glasgow and asks "Anyone with 'special needs' who wants to be prayed over, please come forward to the front by the altar."


With that, wee Brendan got in line, and when it was his turn, the Pope asked, "My son, what do you want me to pray about for you?"


Wee Brendan replied, "Your Holiness, I need you to pray for help with my hearing."


The Pope put one finger of one hand in Brendan’s ear, placed his other hand on top of his head, and then prayed and prayed and prayed. He prayed a great prayer for Brendon, and the whole congregation joined in with great enthusiasm.


After a few minutes, the Pope removed his hands, stood back and asked, "Brendon, how is your hearing now?"
Wee Brendan answered, "Ah don't know. It's no' 'til next week....."


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Long Lie?

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As the gray ex-army blankets fell to the ground at seven this morning, and my mind followed a long way behind the rest of me as I fumbled along to the coffee, I noticed this chap through the filth on the window. The poor lad was enduring the early morning in similar fashion to myself. He of course was not looking for coffee to waken him he was looking for sunshine to warm him up after his early morning breakfast search. Normally these guys wake early, around half five just now, sing or 'coo' for a while, and then eat whatever is available at the 'Greasy Spoon Cafe.'  Afterwards they will play with the wife and sit in the sun warming themselves. Maybe she was not playing this morning, females are not known for obedience, and the sun, rising behind him, has failed to penetrate the thick layer of cloud. They often sit on that rooftop, usually with one eye on the world around them, but this morning he was too busy puffing himself up for warmth to care I reckon. He will be more miserable tomorrow as it will be colder, with rain. No chance with her indoors, or should that be, her outdoors, then!

My antipathy towards the selfishness of our parliamentary leaders knows few boundaries, and those who oppose the heartless cutting of jobs require to be opposed, no matter how bad the nations finances happen to be. Changes and cuts are inevitable, however they manner in which they are made is important, and the Con-Dem hypocrites show no regard for people in their public announcements. However this means the Unions will start to talk about taking action, and this leaves me in a dilemma. For to be honest I have less admiration for the leaders, and many of the representatives of trade unions than I have for politicians and tabloid journalists. Bob Crow of the RMT Union is one who really is a disgrace to the working class! So today General Secretary Brendan Barber, at the TUC Conference, led calls for opposition to the government approach.

What a dilemma. We now know that during the 'Beer and Sandwiches' discussions of the Harold Wilson era the union leaders who earnestly talked of 'A fair days work for a fair days wage,' were in fact fighting for position amongst themselves as they looked for percentage increases. The workers and the nation were the last thing on their mind, and it has always been like this! During the Genera Strike of 1926 all the unions decided to back the miners until the end! Within seven days the miners were on their own! They remained on their own for six long months! During the late seventies Rodney Bickerstaff asked the TUC to support the workers in the NHS (and we were very badly paid in those days) by putting aside their private health policies. Not one union agreed! Now we notice these leaders talking tough and playing to the crowds. How many jobs will be saved by these men? Few, and the situation will not be helped by their play acting. We must rely on the hope that the government are exaggerating the cuts so that when they arrive amendments will mean they are less harmful than they now claim. However this is a Conservative led government we speak off, and consideration for others is low on their agenda.

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Saturday

So we travel to Celtic Park in Glasgow to play Celtic. We have Celtic Fan Willie Collum as referee, and there are two highly debatable offside decisions, both to Celtic's advantage. Jovial Jim Jefferies indicates to the ref that he is none too happy that the linesman on this side has forgotten to go to 'Specsavers' and wishes him to do so straight away. Willie sends him to the stand for noticing the advantage wearing a Celtic strip gains an individual. While JJ has apoplexy in the stand the team struggles without one or two regular players, and eventually let in another goal at the end. Are we surprised at this turn of events? No. It is understandable that mistakes are made, however it is strange that they affect us more than they, isn't it!

   


While drowsily considering removing the army blankets early this morning the radio was blethering about people living and working on a canal 'up north.'  As I struggled, with both hands, to open the eyes I dreamed (or is it 'dreamt'?) of living in a boat on a quiet river, or on an inlet by the sea. While listening to the Glasgow Football Mafia rob us blind (Me biased? Never!) I trawled the net (geddit?) and allowed my mind to believe I could afford one. This beauty here is fabulous, and on board we find all we can desire. Well renovated, all mod cons, and lovely view of the inlet and the passing rich folks on their yachts. All I need is transport, £200,000 and I could while away the hours happily watching the world sail by. The hundred yards walk carrying everything, unless there is a high tide, could be a bother mind!  What a nice relaxing way to escape from the world for a few days on a regular basis. I may cry myself to sleep tonight!

Clegg, Osborne & Cameron

Talking of crying, I watched the Prime Ministers Question Time (PMQ's) from the house of Commons on Wednesday. Because of his father's serious illness David Cameron was not there and Nick Clegg took his place. Jack Straw opposed him, in the usual manner of the House. I was not only unimpressed by left feeling very sad indeed. Straw struggled to make his points, the sudden need to take over leaving him unprepared, and Clegg appeared confident and, to put it bluntly, haughty. Here was a man who had put aside his Liberal Democrat policies to join this coalition, a man who was content to say and do anything as long as he sat on the front bench on the government side. Cameron of course, like Clegg lost the election but happily used this man to take the position of Prime Minister, any sop would do as long as he got the job it appeared.


Adding to this was another 'Daily Mail' story, (Why do I read them?) informing us of George Osbourne, the Chancellor (The Finance Minister) demanding more cuts in welfare. Once again we find three rich men telling us how to suffer in an effort to 'balance the books.' The smug men in sharp suits cutting benefits from the 'workshy' when there is already three million unemployed and thousands being thrown out of work weekly is sickening! Of course some folks happily live on benefits, some taking home much more than they can earn, some of course, and I know of one, wonders how to afford new shoes as his are wearing out! 


There is an attitude of "I'm all right Jack" about these men which leaves me depressed. Even Thatcher, the heartless beast, had some idea what she was about, these three seem clueless. The reason of course is simple, she had some form of ideology - worship Mammon probably - these men only desire to be the ones in charge! That is the thing that disturbed me most about the house, there was no 'belief!' There is no longer 'Left' or 'Right,' there are no politicians who have an agenda to change the world. No Socialists, no Christians, no anti Europeans, nobody with any clout who believes in anything these days in the higher echelons of the parties. So they continue to live in their own parliamentary world, grumbling about their expenses, arrogantly pushing forward their non policies, disregarding any of the public who oppose them, even if they belong to the 'Daily Mail' world!


"Where there is no vision the people perish" it was said in a different context, but it rings true here also.  'Dave' and his smug friends will continue to cut the spending, meaningless men in the armed services, less policemen on the street, less workers in the civil service or local council, less money for projects big and small, more unemployment, potential for riots, and much distress. But not to worry, with no opposition bar the smug, well off, leaders of the Labour Party (A new leader will be chosen in a few weeks time and he also possesses a smug smile.) the boys will continue with their policies until we all fall over the cliff.

It's the same the whole world over

It's the poor what gets the blame

It's the rich what gets the gravy

Ain't it all a bleeding shame

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IT’S A PURE DEAD GIVE-AWAY THAT YOU’RE SCOTS IF.

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Blatantly stolen from here - The Ben Lomand Free Press

1. You consider scattered showers with outbreaks of sunshine as  good weather.

2. The only sausage you like is square                                                                  3. You have been forced to do Scottish country dancing every  year at secondary school.

4. You have a wide vocabulary of Scottish words such as numpty,  aye, aye right, auldjin, baltic…

5. You destroyed your teeth when you were young using  Buchanan’s toffee, Wham bars, Penny Dainties, MB Bars, Cola Cubes etc

6. You have an enormous feeling of dread whenever Scotland play a ‘numpty’ team like the Faroe Islands.

7. You happily engage in a conversation about the weather with someone you’ve never met before.

8. Even if you normally hate the Proclaimers, Runrig, Caledonia , Deacon Blue and Big Country, you still love it when you’re  in a club abroad and they play something Scottish.

9. You used to watch Glen Michael’s Cavalcade on a Sunday afternoon with his side kick Lamp Paladin.

10. You got Oor Wullie and The Broons annuals at Xmas.

11. You can tell where another Scot is from by their accent – “Awright, pal, gonnae gies a wee swatch oa yur Sun ? Cheers, magic  pal.” Or “Fit ya bin up tae ? Fair few quines in the nicht, eh ?”, etc

12. You see cops and hear someone shout ‘Errapolis’.

13. You have participated in or watched people having a ‘square go’.

14. You know that when someone asks you what school you went to they only want to know if you are catholic or protestant.

15. You have eaten lots and lots of random Scottish food like mince ‘n tatties, Tunnock’s Caramel Logs/wafers and teacakes, oat cakes, haggis, Cullen  skink, Lees Macaroon Bars, etc.

16. A jakey has asked you for money.

17. You think nothing of waiting expectantly for your 1p change from a shop keeper.

18. You know the right response to ‘Ye dancing ?’ is ‘Y’askin?’ followed by ‘Ahm askin’ and finally ‘Then ahm dancin’.

19. Whenever you see sawdust it reminds you of pools of vomit as that’s what the jannies used to chuck on it at school.

20. You lose all respect for a groom who doesn’t wear a kilt.

21. You don’t do shopping… you ‘go the messages’.

22. You’re sitting on the train or bus and a drunk man sits next to you telling you a joke – and asking ‘Ahm no annoying ye ahm a?’ and you respond ‘Naw, not at a’, yer fine. This is ma stoap, but’.

23. You can have an entire phone conversation using only the words ‘awright’, ‘aye’ and ‘naw’.

24. You have experienced peer pressure to have an alcoholic drink when out – regardless of the circumstances.

25. You know that ye cannae fling yer pieces oot a 20 storey flat, and

that seven hundred hungry weans’ll testify tae that.   Furthermore

you’re sure that if it’s butter, cheese or jeely, or if  the breid is plain or pan, the odds against it reaching earth are 99  tae wan.

26. You know that going to a party at a friend’s house involves bringing your own drink.

27. Your holiday abroad is ruined if you hear there is a heatwave in Scotland while you’re away.

28. Your national team goes 2-0 up again the Czechs in a qualifier in Prague and your mate says we’ll end up losing 3-2 here  and you think “Probably”.

29. You can properly pronounce McConnochie, Ecclefechan, Milngavie, and Auchtermuchty.

30. Your favourite pizza is deep fried and battered from the chippy.

31. You’re used to 4 seasons in one day.

32 You can’t pass a chip shop or kebab shop, without drooling, when your drunk.

33. You can fall about drunk without spilling your drink.

34. You measure distance in minutes.

35. You can understand Rab C Nesbitt and know characters just like them in your own family

36. You go to Saltcoats because you think it’s like being at the ocean

37. You can make a whole sentence out of just swear words.

38. You know what haggis is made with and still eat it.

39. Somebody you know used a football schedule to plan their wedding day date.

40. You’ve been at a wedding where the footie results were read out.

41. You aren’t surprised to find curries, pizzas, kebabs, Irn Bru, nappies and fags all for sale in one shop                                                                                                        42. Your seaside holiday home has Calor gas under it.

43. You know that Irn Bru is an infallible hangover cure.

44. You understand all the above and are going to send it to your pals.

45. and, finally, you are 100 per cent Scottish if you have ever used these terms – “How’s it hingin’?”, “clatty”, “boggin”,  “cludgie”, “dreich”, “bampot”, “bawheid”, “baw bag” and “dubble  nugget”.

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Encyclopedia Dramatica

1.
The fattest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference.
He acquired his size from too much pi.
2.
I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian .

3.
She was only a whisky distiller, but he loved her still.

4.
A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class, because it was a weapon of math disruption.

5.
No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.

6.
A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.

7.
A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blownapart.

8.
Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.

9.
A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it.

10.
Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

11.
Atheism is a non-prophet organization.

12.
Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other: 'You stay here; I'll go on a head.'

13.
I wondered why the football kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.

14.
A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: 'Keep off the Grass.'

15.
The midget fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.

16.
The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran.

17.
A backward poet writes inverse.

18.
In a democracy it's your vote that counts.

In feudalism it's your count that votes.

19.
When cannibals ate a missionary, they got a taste of religion.

20.
If you jumped off the bridge in Paris, you'd be in Seine .

21.
A vulture boards an airplane, carrying two dead raccoons. The stewardess looks at him and says, 'I'm sorry, sir, only one carrion allowed per passenger.'

22.
Two fish swim into a concrete wall. One turns to the other and says 'Dam!'

23.
Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire in the craft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.

24.
Two hydrogen atoms meet. One says, 'I've lost my electron.' The other says 'Are you sure?' The first replies, 'Yes, I'm positive.'

25.
Did you hear about the Buddhist who refused Novocain during a root canal? His goal: transcend dental medication.

26.
There was the person who sent ten puns to friends, with the hope that at least one of the puns would make them laugh. No pun in ten did.

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Explain This!

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What the....?

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I've passed this spot hundreds of times in the past few years yet never noticed this....er, object, sitting on the wall.I had to take a hurried picture and cogitate on the meaning thereof. It stands in a space now holding a disgusting poofy looking fountain, erected at great cost by one of the towns benefactors sometime in the 20's or 30's. He could have erected something a bit more stylish if you ask me, that is why I have not pictured the thing here! Anyway, the fountain was erected on a spot that once held a couple of houses, and possibly shops also. I know that as studying the names on the town war memorial I found one who lived on this exact spot, and I suggest he had some sort of dwelling here rather than kipping on the benches provided. The fountain features the nancy boy holding fish, and Griffins are in short supply there, although dolphins abound. Actually so did soap bubbles for a while. Some rough type emptied dishwashing liquid into the water and it bubbled for weeks until the council cleaned it out! I suppose they are meant to be Griffins, or maybe part of the town crest, but I don't see how. Still, it is nice to note my photographers eye is improving and I will soon be 'A' like in my ability.  Oh I get it now! These are meant to be Sea Horses..... aren't they....? 

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Wednesday Joy

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So, sluggishly pushing aside the ageing ex-army blankets I entered the world as fresh as a daisy, albeit one that had experienced a very rough night. After a gallon of coffee I headed for what I refer to these days as 'work.' I clambered aboard the rusting bike and headed down the pavement towards the corner thirty yards from my door. I sniffed the air, I noticed the sun, I appreciated the warmth on my feeble body, I observed the bright blue of the sky, I ran into three policemen!
Just as I reached the corner three of the boys in blue (well one was female but often it's hard to tell isn't it?) arrived at the same time as I, and I met them head on! I suddenly forgot everything and the conversation, which was was polite, almost friendly, as I blabbered stupidly while they beat the life out of me. "Just for practice you understand," said the leader, an experienced and possibly senior, officer. I gathered the remains of my limbs, thanked them profusely for not giving me the ticket, three tickets one suggested, and raced off slowly to 'work.'


Entering in my usual cheery manner I greeted the two ladies sitting at reception, the sour faced bint I noticed was not there today, possibly at home practising her early menopause I suspect, and greeted the men in the warehouse in similar cheery manner. They as yet do not comprehend me as others do so there were no remarks informing me where I could place my cheeriness, there was however a bad air. This is partly caused by the drain near the door, it is mostly caused by the bad news. This news I heard last week, the place is closing down! The company, who have only recently moved here, have decided to 'outsource' their warehouse. 'Outsource' is another way of saying 'getting another to do it cheaper.' There is no doubt the warehouse is a bit of a muddle, and there is no surprise that money is a problem after their recent move here. However while several of the boys will find work elsewhere, many are 'agency temps' anyway, others will end up like me, old and unwanted! Naturally the 'suits' are saying little. If they could it would make things worse, and as it is a 'suits' mindset not to say anything unless it is required, nothing is said. Result, no-one is sure of anything!
When I started I noticed a problem, now understanding it I feel bad for the ones that will lose out. The whole operation is planned for a week or two ahead, yet silence is what is heard, an no news is indeed bad news for morale!. Two weeks before they become unemployed, unwanted and kicked out onto the street, while po-faced receptionist will most likely keep her face furrowed on the four days she actually shows up.
This of course means my job will end, and I do not know when! Marvellous! I sit here with limbs aching because no pretty girl will massage them for me, debts so high George Osbourne (the Chancellor) has offered to help me budget (No thanks Georgie!) and an energy loss that equals that of a Rangers player called upon to represent Scotland!
Still, as I always say, it could be worse, I could be English!

After reading this I may go in for an 'Idiot of the week' award, well I would but I might win it myself of course. This idiot was forced by his screaming wife and terrified kids to act the 'hero.' His job was to get the spider from behind the loo and remove it, or the family would be constipated by dawn!
Now normal folk would get a bit of card and chase the brute from it's (is it male or female and how do you tell?) hiding place. Not our hero. Maybe it is because it was late,maybe it is because he is an IT expert and more used to staring at spiders on the web (get it?), or possibly it was because he lives in Clacton (IT expert in Clacton?) where stiletto heels and ankle chains still abound among the Essex Girls there, but our hero went for the dramatic solution. He fired an aerosol spray, some sort of deodorant (BRUT probably) and then, for reasons of his own, lit a cigarette lighter to see if the spider had gone.
Naturally it exploded!
Burns to fingers, ambulance to hospital, 'Daily Mail' for photograph. (And how come this is in the 'Daily Mail' I ask? Do you get paid for blowing yourself up stupidly these days?). A small story to show that the stupidity of the Essex Man never dies, even when an IT expert!


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Fire!

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Around ten thirty this morning I discovered these machines were standing outside the door. The disused 'Clinic' building appeared to have a problem. No smoke, no flames, no screaming for help. 
Most disappointing I say!
This is not an unusual event round here. What with the skatepark and the neds that gather there I am surprised this old clinic has not burned down long since. However it was early on a Sunday and it is unusual to have anyone over seven or eight hanging around, and usually with a bored parent in tow at that time. Could this unexplained event be an actual accident? Well that would be a shock! There again my cynical mind wonders if it was an attempt to deliberately burn down the building? Indeed while there was no obvious fire at the time, just a fat policewoman ( I'd like to see her chase a baddie) talking into her phone while the firemen sat in the cab awaiting instructions. However when I passed on my constitutional tonight I did notice a slight rancid burning smell in the air indicating something had been burning. So this brings out the cynic in me. Who would benefit from this disused building burning down? The people selling the land it stands on maybe? The one who suggested creating a 93 bed hotel there? (93 beds? shome mishtake shurely?) The NHS Trust who own the thing? I wonder.....


Gosh, that was exciting, sometimes I wonder how I cope out here? In London we had proper fires with crowds, blocked streets, huge flames, and ladders reaching high into the sky. Out here two engines of part time firemen arrive and potter about. The police put up tape, the gas man comes along to check, a blue car owner shoves his nose in, and suddenly they are all off home for their dinner! They never even told me what happened.  Well that has taken all my energy, emotional and physical. Not quite so much as was removed when listening to Hearts World describing the game this afternoon, and isn't it a shame the Hibs are doing so badly? My exhaustion is such that I might just go back to bed....again.

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Meet Charlie, George & Pete.....

I say........


They are three fungi's to be with.................

I'll get ma coat then........

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