More experiments

OK, this shows the brief "meeting" between the guards (who had lost control at this point) and the prisoners to decide if we should end it all and go home or continue being on the telly..... all hidden to make it look like we were continuing the "social study".

The ring leaders "Edwards and Petkin" (prisoners) had been a pain in the arse, childish and arrogant. It was more of a playground than a social experiment

I should point out that there is a little bad language (maybe I should of explained that earlier, Opps, sorry).

A trip throught your brains, ride the scarlet train...

My hip will be having one last shindig later this month and you're all invited.

Miles Hunt will be playing Guildford's Boiler Room on Thursday 25th October (7pm kickoff)



So, I'f you're up for it and would like to be entertained (either by Milo or by the pain I'm in) then simply get ya Tickets from these chancers..


PS: there's a pint for the first to complete the lyric in the title of this post. And another pint for the title of the song*


*you have to goto the gig to claim your free pint(s)

Ok, enought of the hip thing, we get it....

I dug out the DVD of me on the telly, and with nothing better to do decided to slice out a bit and put it here...

This was 6 years ago, I'm now much prettier to look at and have a bright green racing car.


and here's the title sequence from the show....

Countdown has started

a new shiney hip will be spliced into place on

Monday 5th November 2007

My hip which looks, well, kinda like this...

will then be "shaped" using this.....

and will eventually look something like this....

bugger..... it all looks rather.... painful.

New leg on the cards!

Folks, it's getting closer.... I can almost smell that tell tail copper tang that gives away the spillage of claret.

Yesterday I had a consultation with the head chopper cropper in Hip replacement surgery. Top bloke if a little self assured about his chosen profession.

There's no getting away from it, surgeons are not normal people.

Most people who show an overly keen interest in slicing into unconscious humans usually end up being dramatized in an ITV Tuesday night special and having to answer to 21 stone "Maureen" in the men's showers at the Big House

Fortunately for me, this fella decided to get some medical qualifications and keep the crossed-out stick men on the bonnet of his car to a minimum.

So, the plan is for me to have a Birmingham Hip Replacement, also known as Hip Resurfacing sometime in November of this year. (Birmingham eh! Seems that a lot of troubles in my life have been solved by things from Birmingham..... you know who you are!)

I'm still waiting on the insurance company's approval....... (long pause)

BASTARDS!

Sorry..... I have a mental image of some Standard Life rep bent over my policy attempting to find the medieval small print that denies a payout due to whistling on Tuesdays.

No.... I'm sure it'll be fine.

So, there's a lot of compromises I've gotta except if this all goes ahead.... I'm not too worried about the Op or the pain, its the after care and not being able to drive to pick up Em that's gonna be the killer.

4-8 weeks off work and not being able to do normal things...... hmmm.

Still, the outlook is fairly good, by Feb '08 I could be completely fixed!

A tip of the hat

I've spotted the name Ronnie Hazlehurst many many times on the credits of so many classic British TV shows, but never really gave him the credit for the amazing work he helped create. Sadly Ronnie passed away yesterday at the age of 79

So, rest in peace there fella, and thanks for those wonderful, wonderful tunes you pulled from the ether (he never mentioned anything about a number 9 bus from Stourbridge btw).

and boy, did he leave a legacy, his family should be very very proud

Here's just some of the theme tunes credited to Ronnie

Some Mothers Do Have 'Em (the piccolo spells out the title of the show in Morse
Code!)
Last Of The Summer Wine
Yes Minister
No Place Like Home
The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin
Sorry

I'm mmmeeeelllltinggggggg...

Yes, it's official..... Just like the Wicked Witch of the West I too am melting.

It was confirmed by my recent visit to the rheumatologist who agreed that "whatever" caused my hip to dissolve is now chewing its way through my left knee, hence the pain keeping me awake during the night.

He did give me the medical name for it, I cant remember it of course..... in layman's terms its some lining in or around the knee joint that's inflamed (they don't know why its inflamed) which causes the intense pain.....

I have my own theory..... As I'm not involved in a relationship my body is missing the intense emotional pain caused by the constant tedium of enforced companionship and so has turned against my left hip and knee and is slowly dissolving them from the inside out.

So, as the rheumatologist has more or less washed his hands of me I'll be back to see the knife-man. No doubt he'll complain about my collection of fat but at least its a painful limp in the right direction.


So, to lighten the mood can you think of ANY other characters from TV/Movies or books that have melted?

Here's some to get you started....

Wicked Witch of the West (The Wizard Of Oz)
Me

A Gammy leg and a crap car

People around me know that I hate my latest company car (I know, I'm very lucky to even have a company car, but that's not the point), mostly I hate it 'cos I stupidly decided which car to have purely on economic grounds .... this meant I ended up with a Ford Fiesta 1.4 Ghia Diesel.... and what a mistake that was.

I dunno what the hell has happened to Ford, but this car is nasty. Externally, it looks like two separate cars welded together, there's no way the same designer created the rear and the front of this car. Internally its just as bad, built to a budget (a very very small one at that) and barely functional

I choose the Ghia option as I thought it would add a little comfort to a basic car.... in fact, the £1200 extra for the Ghia version added 4x Ghia badges, rain sensing wipers and a silver gear knob (and no, its not real silver)

I understand that a diesel engine can be a little more noisy, but this thing is deafening..... whenever I drive the car I have a flock of seagulls (the feathered variety and not the 80's pop band) behind me wondering when I'm gonna start ploughing.... It really is that bad.

But it is cheap to run..... it requires no oil or servicing and a tank full of chip fat will last for 400 miles.... so I guess it's done its job so far....

But now I'm getting the chance to change it.... why? cos of my gammy leg! I just happened to mention it to the fleet manager, and he/she said under the current agreement I can change the car to an automatic on medical grounds.... and as there are no affordable automatics in the pool I can go ahead and order a brand new motor (as long as its an auto).

I do know it wont be another FORD and not just because the Fiesta is a bag of arse. The main reason for not wanting another FORD is their Franchise holder Dagenham Motors.... They have to be the rudest people I've had the misfortune to deal with. A truly awful bunch of people to work with.

I'll let ya know what I get...

for no other reason.

Things I have carried home while drunk.

1. The wooden pineapple from the top of a fence (still located in an indoor plant in Highpoint)
2. A 10 inch high letter "H"
3. A nurse belonging to a house mate
4. A front door
5. various car ariels
6. A pair of tramps trousers, bought in London while on a bender
7. Bebe Hudd

this sceptred isle

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands,-- This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

William Shakespeare, "King Richard II", Act 2 scene 1

Greatest English dramatist & poet (1564 - 1616)

I'd never imagine I would be quoting Shakespeare in this blog. But while putting the finishing touches to the above photo, the words to this famous passage came back to me. 500 years on and I really cant think of two better bed mates than this picture and those words.

Giant Cola Cubes

No Em, no On Call..... no sleep

750 miles round trip......................

to take some sunrise pictures of Bamburgh Castle

....and some very large Cola Cubes

The full show can be found here

Ten Thousand Visitors

I've just noticed I've had over 10,000 visitors to this Blog...... Most of them have wanted me to buy either Viagra, hair restorer or help them share out millions of $'s by using my bank account.... Just how lucky am I!

I'm officially more popular than Small Pox. Marvelous!

Alchemy

Take one jar of premium pickled onions, 200g's of mussels and prawns and an assortment of snacks and mix liberally with copious amounts of Pepsi Max

Retire to a safe distance and brew at body temperature for 10 hours.

Last night, I had to tie the duvet down with tent pegs.

My 3 day dream bizarre (Part 3)

Dream 3:

I don't want to go into details about this one. It's more or less me trying to find out why Linda's Family shunned me completely when she left.  It revolves around her creating a diversion to take away the truth about her infidelity.

Analysis:

Is there something more to this 14 years on? Am I so bored with life that my subconscious has decided to pick a fight with me while I sleep

My 3 day dream bizarre (Part 2)

Dream 2:

This is an odd one. I'm in Wales (my usual short break destination on the bike) in an unknown pub/hotel. I get the feeling that I'm there to judge a competition, I cant elaborate on the subject cos I've no idea, there's no paraphernalia around me to suggest any kind of competition, I just have this "feeling".... anyhow.

I'm in this Welsh pub, various people sitting around drinking, mostly old fellas wearing cloth caps and plaid suits (?). I then get this overwhelming sensation of responsibility, the kind you get when worrying about ya kids and their future.

I then discover that my cat is with me. In the dream I don't question this, not only would I never take Addie to any public place but she passed away over 6 months ago.

In the dream I worry about getting her back home, even tho she seems perfectly happy in the pub. I then have fractured recollections of her playing with me, jumping on me and snuggling into me like she used to..... But the overall memory was being able to actually feel her in my hands, and that big bushy tail brushing against my face including that tell tail twitch in my nose that reminds me I'm allergic to cat hair.

Conclusion:

Did she come and visit me in my dream? Was she telling me that where ever she is now, she's OK?

Or was it my need to feel useful or wanted invading my subconscious?

My 3 day dream bizarre

Dream 1:

I start off driving, somewhere in the north east... It's a coastal town and I come across a huge steep hill... in fact its so steep I'm unsure if the car will get up it. But it must be OK, cos all the way up the hill and on top there are shops and houses and people milling about. So, I start on up the hill (in the car). I notice to my left there's the usual vista of the North Sea, except its really close.... and its in a bad mood.

As I travel up the hill, I notice that no-one else is the slightest bit concerned that the approaching tide & waves are lapping the bottom of the hill..... and then I notice I'm running out of gears as I traverse up the hill, 4th, then 3rd, then 2nd...... and now 1st gear..... the car is struggling, the waves are getting closer, the hill is getting steeper.

I eventually scramble out of the car, just as I get a hold of the crest of the hill with my bare hands...... someone comes and grabs my arm from the top, but the crest of the hill is crumbling because of the sea spray from the all engulfing waves lapping at my feet.

At this point my subconscious seems to have had its fun and decides its time to change the subject. I'm fully awake.

Analysis:

It's probably the hip thing... The hard struggle ahead I would guess. But do I really need my subconscious to put it so brutally?

The Plan

It's not certain, but I'm fairly sure I'll be getting a new leg soon (when I say leg, I actually mean hip, but effectively, it's a new leg).
I've not seen the quacks yet, but I've had enough, Emily has had enough, work has had enough, and anyone who reads this has probably had enough....
The only person who hasn't had enough is my Rheumatologist who charges £200 a visit to do little more than grimace at me half undressed and who fails to inspire confidence by asking me "which hip is it again?"

I think it's time to book an appointment with Dr Mengele again.

The other reason for wanting the opp now is that I'm the size of a small bungalow (furnished with a large unkempt garden at the rear) with less mobility. You see, as my mobility decreases my lard content increases, and the easiest way I've found for loosing the lard is to walk... (the distance I can walk without inflickting damage is rapidly decreasing, anything over half a mile now has me in agony).

and so to the plan....

I want to climb (walk) up Helm Crag in the Lake District about this time next year.

You see, I figure that if I have my new leg fitted at the end of October this year, I'll probably be fit enough to walk up a steep hill by August/September 2008.

I've chosen Helm Crag mainly because of a certain Mr A Wainwright's Pictorial Guides to the Lake Land Fells. A 7 book series to the fells (hills and bigger hills but not quite mountains) within the Lake District (North West England).

Helm Crag is a little easier than some of the other monsters and has a fantastic view of the valley and Grasmere..... all I need is some basic walking gear and the best part of a day to do it.... and a hotel to stay for the weekend.

I'd like to do all this on a weekend, drive up there, book into a hotel, Saturday morning walk to the summit of Helm Crag and spend the rest of the evening in the hotel bar celebrating with my new hip.... then home at some point Sunday..... after the traditional Sunday Lunch of course.

I'm gonna book a room for myself at the Waterside Hotel in Grasmere for the weekend of 22/23 August 2008.... although they arnt taking bookings for August 2008 as yet.

I know its a long way off (time wise), but if anyone fancies tagging along they are more than welcome.

today, I will be that ghost.

Wow.... how quiet can a place be? How excited about [another] new day can someone be?

This morning was very different to the last nine. Not once did I have to say "Shhhhh" people are still asleep! or ask what should we have for breakfast today.....

The flat is still the same, but there's a huge void. The TV's not on, there's no trail of coloured paper, wrappers, crisps, colouring pens, socks, the odd shoe or bits of Barbie that I need to navigate.

Today, my big chair is empty. Thats were Em can usually be found first thing,wrapped in her Barbie dressing gown, waiting for me to join her while the pain au choc warms up in the kitchen.

They say ghosts are attracted to kids because of the huge life force they contain.......

today, I will be that ghost.

Very important kettle news

So Emily has outgrown the local park when it comes to cycling, the next step was to find somewhere she can ride without having to deal with traffic. Not a problem, I remember the Lookout in Bracknell has miles and miles of cycleways for her to play on..... only this time I'd have to join her..... on my own bicycle. That of course introduces more problems, things like, can I actually ride a bike with my gammy leg? will the bike still work (it's been at the back of the garage for about 7 years), and how the hell do I transport two bicycles in a Ford Fiesta?

Ok, problem one: Can I still ride a bike with my gammy leg?

Yes, I tested my ability by borrowing the lodgers bike (sorry bicycle, if you know my lodger then you'll also know about his stash of marriage certificates) . Surprising enough it didn't hurt at all, well the riding didn't, but getting my leg over did (oh boy, that last statement rings true in so many other situations). I found that if I almost lay the bike flat I can straddle it then lift it into position... it looks just as stupid as it sounds... but it works.

Problem two: Does my bike still work 7 years on?

Yes. The tires needed pumping up, a little WD40 in a few places and new batteries for the lights and cycle computer and it was set.

Problem three: Fitting two bikes to a Ford Fiesta

Solved by shedding out £50 on a bike rack, which to my surprise actually worked!

S0, Sunday saw Em and me in Swinley Forest attempting to circumnavigate other cyclists, walkers, walkers with buggies, runners, runners with buggies and what looked like the entire contents of Battersea Dogs Home.... also with buggies.

Anyway, we managed to dodge them all but did succumb a few times to the loose gravely surface but escaped with only slight bruises to the ego. The important part was Em loved it all, and through falling off she also gained knowledge of braking and picking out a more stable route.

Like to see some pictures? well you cant cos I forgot my camera, anyhow, it's not pretty seeing me on a bike, especially in shorts (no, not cycling shorts, there are limits.... and probably decency laws).

Instead, here's a picture of my new kettle

The Last....

I have nothing of interest to say, I understand thats never stopped me before, but for some reason I feel the urge to post something here........ and I need an alternative to the grinding tedium of enforced labour I'm currently experiencing.

The most interesting thing I have to do today is have the tires on my evil Ford Fiesta balanced.... Not even the Buggles "Living in the plastic age" can bring my outta this tedious mood. Anyhow, to try and get some human response (even if it is virtual) I've concocted a LIST of "The Last.."...

Rules are simple, there arnt any. But if you're the type that needs some sort of structure then this should help.

Copy the list below, add your name at the top, delete any previous responses then post back here so we can all attempt to deduce your bank account details, social security number and whether or not you need professional help.

Here goes....

--------------------------------------------------------------------

My Name is Dave,  and I'm a blogger and I'm male

The Last.....
 
person you punched.
Paul Robinson. We were both 11 years old. He was gonna beat me up, so I lamped him one while he was taking his pullover off

haircut, how much was it
£16 with a £4 tip

time you thought you were gonna die
I was about 11 years old. I got hit in the head with a flying bolt that Paul Robinson threw at me. I've still never seen so much claret....... or anytime I fly

holiday
Bike Trip to Wales last month

flowers you sent/received
Sent: 2 or 3 years ago, probably to Bebe. Received: Never

album/single/song you bought (and how, store, download, bribe?)
Buggles: Plastic Age. Downloaded

paid job you had
Drum Tech, The Wonder Stuff Tour 2006

alcoholic drink you had
Bulmers Cider, 2 days ago

bowel movement
Yesterday..... but there's still some questions left, you never know!

Kiss
Romantic: probably 2 years ago.

Stitch (either cosmetic, accident, or self prescribed (like Rambo))
Never! not even the flying bolt resulted in stitches (just butterfly clips)

time you cheated on a loved one
Never, not once.... mostly cos I'm bloody ugly and never get propositioned

lie you told your boss
30 seconds ago. He saw the blogger editor! I simply picked up a pen, threw it down the walkway and said "FETCH". Works everytime

time you felt that initial "I'm in love!" feeling
1000 years ago

pair of shoes you bought
I have a feeling it was about 3 years ago.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Management intervention saves the day

HEADLINES: Impending flood at HAL Weybridge office averted by management intervention.

The Environment Agency issued a "very possible....... probably, you never know" flood alert within the Weybridge/Addlestone area. Businesses within the area should "do something or other" to prevent things getting damp, moist or just plain wet.

In response, HAL management convened an emergency meeting at its Weybridge Offices to decide on what should be done about the flood warnings

The plans revealed by its spokesperson involves several senior managers standing at the banks of the Wey Navigation, pointing and instructing the flood waters to cease its advancement and return to the hills from whence it came.

"Operation King Canute will deliver results that are in-line with our business model and will achieve double-digit flood reduction" said a spokesperson.

When asked why the operation had been named after a legendary 11th century King who failed to turn back the tide the spokesman replied "we think the King had the perfect answer, hence the adoption of the name, he failed [King Canute] because he wasn't an "Officer Of The Company" and therefore didn't have the necessary authority"

The spokesperson then added.

"Expectations for success of Operation King Canute are extremely high but should the Operation fail we will instigate our contingency plan which includes a DSG (designated scapegoat), a large sweeping brush and an already lumpy carpet.

Tiggy.

Tiggy.... it what we called the game of "Tag" up north.... which included variations like "Tiggy on high" which involved jumping from coalhouse roof to coalhouse roof in the street (Billy Elliot dances on his coalhouse roof... which, by the way, was filmed in the town I grew up in)

All of which has little to do with the following..... PT tagged me (a blogger tag that is) and as I wasn't standing on my coalhouse roof I have to accept..... and I didn't have "Skinchies" either

The rules are simple…Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The
rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are
listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their
names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know
that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog

Facts/Habits

1. I have a "system" of washing certain body parts in a certain order in the shower. I should point out that they are all my own body parts and this is no way an admission of guilt. The vegetable patch in the shape of my ex wife is purely coincidental and I had planning permission for the patio months before she left.
2. I shave south of the border. Visits to Scotland tend to be matted and itchy
3. I record episodes of "Last of the Summer Wine"
4. I kiss and thank "Mr Blue Sky" every time I make it back to my garage after a rideout
5. I MUST remove the tea bag BEFORE I add milk
6. I sleep with one leg out of the bed and higher than the other (can be either leg too)
7. I can only eat Weetabix in private
8. While watching TV, I make shapes in the air with my foot.... mostly types of loops and figure 8's.... I may start drawing out these shapes on paper, it could be the start of a new kind of workout.... Quick, someone think of a witty name for it!

According to the rules I'm supposed to tag 8 other people..... I don't know 8 other people with blogs that would play...... So I need to rely on any lurkers out there who read this blog but never comment.....

Remember to link back here, we're all very curious to find out more!

New title

New title, or if I were in marketing, had no soul and the morals of pond life, I'd probably call it "Re-Branding".

But for the grace of God......

Anyhow, I've done it. Gone is the Lobster that served me so well in the early days. No more will "Breakfast" be put on a lead and walked down the street.

Instead I now have what I think should be printed on almost anything that has a value to most people. Be it a new car, that house you've saved all these years for, the new born child, the job and career, and the most important of all documents, the marriage certificate.

All need to have the *Happiness not included stamped somewhere. Just as toy manufactures have the disclaimer "* Batteries not included" stamped on the package to inform the stupid and careless that their latest purchase actually needs electricity to run. I think we need to inform the masses that happiness is seldom listed as part of the ingredients and never in a binding contract.

The content wont change, it'll still be full of half thought out notions, ill conceived rants, self pitty emotive and possibly libelous posts.

So, let me know what you think.

It's nobbly and bobbly.

This is a Nobbly Bobbly. .....

Yes, I know what you're thinking. It's just an ice lolly.

But don't be fooled. It probably contains Nicotine, Heroine and/or Crack Cocaine

See. I had no intention of eating an Ice lolly at 09.15 this morning, but look. The horny little devil seduced me with its nobbly bobbly bits filled with illegal substances... probably.

No....

Emily
Lodger
On Call
Club Rideout
Phone Calls
Post
Debates
Visitors
Family Visits
Emails
Video Games
Whispering
Arguments
Cooked Meals
Coffee
Wet bathroom carpet
Nobbly Bobbly's
Conversations
Clothes
Deliveries
Shouting
Commitments

"What did you do this weekend Dave?"

"Nothing, and it was everything I Imagined it would be"

It's persisting down

I found Belgium! It's at the end of France if you need a point of reference.
So, 1001.5 miles in 3 days. No one fell off or broke down and only one puncture amongst 80 bikes. The IAM should be proud!

I was impressed by the Eurotunnel as there's very little fannying about, ride on, wait 30 minutes then ride off into France. As it was my first time the captain invited me onto the flight deck. He then attempted to chat me up and ask me out on a date, I turned him down of course.

The picture above is of the Eurotunnel flight deck on the British side. On the French end the steering wheel is on the other side and the electrics are dodgy.

The entire trip ended up being extremely wet, it started raining at Junction 11 off the M25 in the UK and didn't stop 'till 10 minutes after I got back.

The most impressive thing about riding on the European mainland is the lack of traffic, no open shops and..... no people! I also noticed that the few locals we did meet could speak fairly good English, which is how it should be of course.

I have a medical condition which prevents me from understanding foreign languages but have since managed to say a few french phrases, mostly gibberish, some offensive and a few made up. As I didn't get thumped or arrested I consider that a success.

I also met a fellow WVAM member called Peter Lee. Which is odd because I used to live in Peterlee but was purged sometime ago. No doubt he's got a very large colon. I didn't get much further with Peter as he hummed of "management" and had a forced ambitious side to him. I've no doubt he's a very nice person and will end up happily married to a beautiful and faithful wife with a big house and own several large screen TV's and a heated swimming pool.

Briefly

Quickly barman, the worlds about to end

• Emily's 7th birthday bowling party was a hoot and everyone enjoyed themselves.


• My sister, niece and nephew weren't nearly as obnoxious as I thought they would of been


• I have no idea where Belgium is


• I have a new hoover


• Everyone at work thinks I'm a c**t, but the voices in my head tell me different.


• I'm riding to Belgium at the weekend


• I ate 8 Nobbly Bobbly's on Sunday


• Bleach can un-stain a stained sink


• My lavatory cant handle large amounts of human waste


• The gene that helps you understand a foriegn language was chemically removed from me at an early age by applying light machine oil to the underarms

Road Trip....

This should be fun. Milo is playing a charity event on Saturday in Stourbridge and I've been invited along to a bit of a pub crawl in and about the local environs by Milo's brother Russ.

The pub crawl was organised quite sometime ago, so long ago that I've completely forgotten the reason why.... and being a bloke I'm not about to admit that to anyone (who hasn't read this blog of course).

I love going to the midlands, it's a kinda home coming, even tho I'm not from Brimingham or the Black Country.

The reason I feel so comfortable there is the music. I've always had a leaning towards music from that area. Dunno why, it just is..... Slade, Duran Duran, Electric Light Orchestra, The Wonder Stuff, Miles Hunt, Carina Round, PWEI to name a few.

So, expect a few photo's

Dave "Battenburg" Dawson......

Last week saw another live gig by Miles Hunt and Erica Nockalls to promote Mr Hunts new solo album "Not an exit". As usual, a fine performance which has a tendency to restore my faith in humankind just long enough to get me to the next live event.

When Milo does a solo tour it usually includes a stop off at the Half Moon in Putney, that means it's a local gig.... which in turn allows me to get horribly drunk and to revel in Mr Hunts creations.

Now, Miles is well known for his banter between songs, sometimes he explains the story behind the song, sometimes not.... it can be a lottery. What you don't expect is to hear your name mentioned with regard to one of his songs, which is what happened last week.

Unfortunately, I'd past the point of being attentive to what was being said and missed the gist of why I'd been named.

The song I'd been linked to was "The Cake", a title on the new album...... Thank heavens it wasnt "Size of a cow". I didnt have time after the gig to ask what the connection is as Milo was busy signing stuff and I had a lift to catch.... anyhow, whatever the connection, its bloody great being associated with anything that fella produces.

I 'ate you Butler

The original idea was that I "help" a mate with a few issues when it comes to drum fills and breaks. Should be easy enough, an hour on the throne and he'll be breaking around the kit like a pro. Seems teaching is a little more difficult, especially as Aaron (the fella in question) has the rhythm of a collapsing building..... which is a little ironic as from a distance it sounds like he's building a shed*

After several cups of tea it was decided that I'd stick around for the nights session. It came to pass that Aaron had borrowed a small....very very small mixing desk.... no not desk..... more post it pad sized thing along with two studio mics.

Considering that there were to be 2 guitars (bass and electric 6'er), drums, keyboards and two vocalists I decided to opt out of the logistics of gathering all those sounds together into something that resembled organised music. Eventually, when the stench of too many cooks had dispersed we were left with one spare singer and a keyboard without an amp. Apparently the only audience for the keyboard was to be the tape recorder as it seems it plays no role within the band.... don't ask

As it happened I had a bit of a hoot, there were times when bass, guitar and drums found that groove, enjoyed the surroundings, admired the swirlyness before being ejected into the street for groping some blokes squeeze by mistake..... I think its called being creative, sometimes you hit the nail on the head and other times you run screaming into the road hoping to be hit by a number 11 bus to the cemetery gates.

Now then, when I was in a band our "tapes" were kept very close to our chests, most 'cos they were bloody awful, but deep down, we knew we could do better. We'd keep them under wraps until we were tight and could maybe afford some recording time (although we never did).

Aaron decided to "release" them on t'internet. Said like that, it conjours up images of some endangered species being set free in the middle of nowhere, to live out the rest of its days unhindered by man's intervention. Unfortunately, this "tape" should of been corralled into a small area then humanly put to death, quietly and with as much dignity that can be mustered.

Of course I'm being very critical, every journey starts with a single step and this is very much a wobbly stumble across the lino. Who knows, with a little practice it may turn into a runner.

Anyhow, here's a link to the site.... but be careful, its a shocker. Scree


* Aaron. Don't be too upset about my criticisms. This is a blog and artistic licence is in play

I want to ride my bicycle

As you can see, SHE RIDES WITHOUT STABILISERS!!!

But best of all, she did it with her Daddy. Something she wont forget and will carry with her forever, as I will.

Of course she needs a few more hours in the saddle to help with stopping, starting and turning.... but apart from that, she'll be fine!

Water.....

I'm a product of the industrial 70's. I'm built from processed foods, crimpolene, terylene, artificial sweeteners and I probably contain more E numbers than a primary school's kitchen



My body has a half life of several thousand years and will continue to contaminate the water table for some time to come..... although I do seem to be dissolving from the inside out.... my hip and thyroid is one example and the other is currently blocking the lavatory back at the flat (sorry about that John*..... I attempted to tackle it this morning but as I approached it with the kitchen chair and the builders trowel I swear it growled at me!)

This of course has nothing to do with this post... well not much. You see, I just happened to come across a TV program some weeks ago that suggested Aspartame could be linked with the onset and continuation of arthritis, which is the diagnosis I've been given for my knackered hip.

So, I thought I'd attempt to remove this artificial sweetener from my diet...

That means not drinking anymore "diet" soft drinks (amongst other things of course). So, I was on water only..... I've never been fond of drinking water, I dont really like the taste.... and I've seen what fish do it in.... Then there's bottled water, which has too much of a poncy feeling about it... no, It'll have to be filtered tap water. UK tap water is about as pure as you can get, really..... I filter it cos of the fish thing. I know its irrational, but with the help of a Brita water filter I'm overcoming it.

You know, this chilled filtered tap water is quite nice, I do lapse occasionally and have the odd can of Pepsi Max, but not often. I've even been testing out some brands of Tea.... I'm currently drinking two types at the moment......Twinings Pure White Tea and a Ginger Herbal Tea... which is surprisingly tasty.

Next week I shall be experimenting with Yoga.







* John is my lodger, he rents a room from me. He is not my gay live in lover. If I was gay I'd pick someone much better looking (someone "scrummy")

Can we stop to do some shopping?

If you have a bike, then go to Wales..... unless its a Hardly-Ableson as they have corners and bends in Wales that require you to lean the machine into. Something the Hog was never designed to do.

I've just come back from 3 days of intensive biking (750 miles in total). Five blokes, four of them IAM level and one who's almost there..... and not one whining over sensitive fun bothering female person in sight...

God is a biker, there's no other reason to arrange the hills and valleys of Wales in a way that makes almost every road a technical adventure to negotiate on a bike. The Devil of course drives an underpowered Skoda towing an unfeasibly large caravan, or as I like to call them, moving chicanes.

Luckily for us, the Devil was off shaking chimney stacks in Kent and left the Welsh roads caravan free. Bloody fantastic.

Left hander......possible knee down event.

I quickly and unconsciously skim through "the system".... the bend is visible all the way through, nowt on the road, nothing to hit, my position adjusted, just left of the long white divide. Speed and gear selection needs to be perfect, enough speed to keep the adrenalin flowing and the correct gear to neutralise the suspension bias front and back.

Everything slows down, becomes quiet and I feel a tightness spread across my face as the inevitable grin begins to show.... Arse slips off the seat to the left, right elbow anchors itself into the recess contoured into the tank design, left knee and leg rotate outwards ready to skim the bitumen.
Subconsciously I begin the turn, but thats not enough to do this correctly, I need to apply some science and have heroic amounts of self belief to stop under-steering and meeting an oncoming tree....or worse.
Forcing a 1000 yard stare up the road to where I need to be in just a few short seconds and applying a forward push on the left bar to countersteer the bike and myself around the apex...... Ground rush becomes apparent to peripheral vision as the lean angle increases.....I try not to think of the forces being transmitted through the bike, to the suspension and down to the tires and onto a contact patch with the road the size of a credit card.

I can feel the increase in G's spike then begin to fade, perfectly in unison with the degrees of lean. The throttle is slowly opened making sure I don't over do it and spoil the whole experience by spinning up the rear tire too early and invoking a spleen shattering high-side......

As the bike returns to its perpendicular attitude and my arse finds its usual residence I begin to hear a strange noise in my helmet , sounds like a screaming, giggling, over excited 10 year old at a Beyonce concert....... feck...... that noise belongs to me.

Oh look! another bend up ahead...... possible knee down event.

Note to self....

Who needs drugs when you've got music? It can change your mood quicker than a dose of prozak..

So, Mr Hunt is out and about on another tour along with Miss Fidley (aka Erica, pictured above... ain't she scrummy!). I urge you to pop over to his new Myspace page and have a listen to Note to self, to say its bloody marvellous is an understatement in the extreme.

The tour is planned to coincide with the new album released at the end of this month (Not an Exit), so if ya liked the samples on his webpage then get yaself a ticket or two and who knows, I might see ya soon....



I'll be in the usual place at the Half Moon in Putney May 22nd, in the usual drunken state I expect.

Is that bone I can smell burning?

Damn my dodgy hip....

I'm at the stage where I'm attempting to help my daughter to ride a bike. She's 6 and very confident..... which is great, but you do need some basics before you take the training wheels off... like the ability to point the bike in a direction that dosent end up in a collision with either people, trees, kerbs or me. The use of "brakes" seems to be an afterthought... usually after she's hit something.

So, I've been out to the park attempting to "help".... but how? I've found it very difficult to just "let her go" or perhaps that should read "let her fall off".... I got her knee protectors, elbow protectors, hand protectors and a cycle helmet, but its still not enough to put my mind at rest. Maybe I should let her wear the gear instead of me..

Eventually my hip decided it was time I should let her go, I'm not built for jogging in any condition let alone 23 degrees of sunshine.... unless being chased by carnivorous wild animals which thankfully are few and far between within the M25 area. Actually, I'm not really built for any kind of outside hard labour, my genes lie with a life of cold underground digging. When I'm exposed to sunshine my skin turns from its natural northern blue-white shade to a very angry and burnt red colour.

Anyhow, Emily did very well, she scared herself a few times as well as a few passing joggers and dog walkers but didn't actually fall off. Best of all she enjoyed it although she didn't quite get to ride without the training wheels.... maybe next week

I had to resort to a heroic dose of combined pain killers and the walking stick came out to play again..... I just hope Em cracks riding the bike sooner rather than later as the smell of burning hip joint isn't pleasant.

Oh well.

Barking mad

Everything seems to be sorted in the flat.... well, all the major stuff anyhow. For a single bloke that means all the audio/visual equipment is installed and my clothes are still in boxes in the bedroom.

Still dont know a great deal about my neighbours, I'm sandwiched between two single mothers with an undisclosed number of children..... all below the age of 5. As these flats were built in the 70's before compressed straw-walls were invented I've found little noise pollution, but ask me again in another month or so.

The car park outside the flats tells me there's a copper living close, as well as a taxi driver.... the other inhabitants have alluded me so far.

The only strange thing worth mentioning are the kids in the taller block of flats over the road...... they.....bark. Once you get over the initial shock you start to notice that it's not just one type of bark, they seem to be able to produce several types of canine auditory manifestations which include howling, yelping, growling, snarling and occasional whimpering. Thankfully we're separated by a large fence and brick garages. I've have yet to determine if they also foul the pavements and/or bite

The Groove Controller

"The Groove Controller"

Secondhand Serenade

I just cant help it, there's something very warm and now and friendly about an acoustic guitar.

Maybe its just me and the people I've had around me while growing up in a northern town. Very difficult to say what you really mean except when its presented in song on an acoustic guitar.

So, go and sooth ya lugs and listen to whats on offer from this fella.... dunno how much of all the lovey-dovey stuff I can put up with, but it's holding my attention so far.

Secondhand Serenade

My fav at the moment is Maybe, then possibly Your Call (which is a little too sweet for me)

Anyhow, let me know what ya think.

It's all down to me

I no longer need wonder at what point someone else is gonna make me homeless. Which is the feeling I've had since 1993.



I'm the sole name on my mortgage. And that's the way it will stay. I understand that other factors may come into play to force me into a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere, but at least it wont be on a whim and a prayer of some vacuous shallow bint with the morals of a footballers wife.



I came out the other end of my little adventure, battered, bruised and scared for life. It wont happen again, and because of this I carry a small bit of peace that I unfold every night before I fall asleep.



If you're married and a UK bloke then God help you. You'll need it. Our legal system hates you with a passion, it'll leave you bankrupt, homeless and it'll take your children away...especially if you're the one who remained faithful as blame isn't a factor when dealing with divorce.









Tomorrow I'll be talking about the positive side of suicide.

This is for Kat.

I've just read your blog.

...and I'm gutted.

Nothing I say (or anyone else) will help right now. But maybe if you come back at a later stage you'll understand what I've got to say.

First, let me apologise that I havnt replied sooner. As you can see, I've had my hands full, and this is the first time I've been able to check the blogs that matter to me.

Second, it hurts... and I know it.

There's this very large and heavy curtain we like to draw around us when everything we believe in begins to dissolve. It's a very natural defence mechanism which has to take its course. That course can run for some time, there is no formula to work out how long it'll last, all you'll ever know is that eventually it will lift.

Some people never experience it. (usually the mad and the bad)
Some people try to remove it chemically. (but only prolong the agony)
Some people experience it briefly. (the enlightened ones?)

...and some of us...

are never the same again.


Kat, never think you're alone on this one. No matter how small, faraway or insignificant you think I am from your current position, I'll be here... waiting.

I'm In!

It's taken me 17 years to get to this point.

but as of the 15th of this month I can now officially call Ocean Finance and get myself some debt consolidation secured entirely on my new home.

how comforting and refreshing.

Anyhow, everything is now moved. All done without the aid of payed movers which I'll never do again.... it was a nightmare. I managed to over do it and bust my hip again and if it wasn't for the following people who gave up time and a little sweat I'd still be in the old gaff in a pool of my own waste.

So, I'd like to thank....

• The lodger (Mr Wall, who's transformation into "White Van Man" was like something from Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde)
• Chuckie (who supplied heaps of muscle and fat man power)
• Pooch (muscle and bike talk)
• Paul Haygreen (supplier of muscle and a large Audi Estate)

without these fellas, it wouldn't happen.

Check my bins...

I'll be packing tonight... until I move on Thursday.

I think it'll be an equal split between stuff I need to keep and stuff I should keep but cant be arsed to.

Things I've had to throw out so far.....

1. Sony DV Camcorder with remote, spare battery, cleaning tape and case.
2. Bin bags full of XXL clothing I never wore
3. Enough PC parts to make at least 2 reasonable computers and dozens of mice/keyboards
4. Motocross helmet
5. Full set of leathers for a smallish woman
6. 2x Motorcycle jackets
7. Rotofit hamster house
8. Tivo
9. Sony VHS Recorder
   
10. Single Bed
11. Lodger
    

The bodies under the floorboards can stay... that febreze stuff is great.

And dont worry about not giving me a hand to shift all this stuff.... I'm sure with enough tramadol, ibuprofen and paracetamol the constant pain in my hip will subside after the first couple of trips down the 3 flights of stairs in my present flat.....after all, I've got all my family to give a hand! what with the constant visiting and phone calls I get from them you'd never think I'm ONLY 4 HOURS DRIVE AWAY.

I'd like to thank....

Well, looks like I'll be moving to a new gaff next week.

This has all been going on since early January, but I've not really blogged about it..... mainly because of my inherent bad luck when making something public knowledge... so I've kept my gob shut.

As it stands at the moment I've had a mortgage offer, the sellers have accepted, dates have been confirmed and there's a large bag of money somewhere in south London with the sellers name written all over it.

But the best bit of all? it'll be all mine! (in 25 years time that is).

There'll be no soul sucking woman in the background waiting for the moment when she can legally take everything I own, make me bankrupt, have me thrown in jail for frowning and making her "fear for her own safety" which will enable her to take my children to live with some fat idiot in a house paid for and furnished by me.... all with the full backing and support of the legal system.

So, I'd like to thank the following people for making this purchase possible...

My ex wife: for making me see how shallow, greedy and dishonest one human being can be.

Emily: for being so special. It made me put a lot of fear to one side so she can eventually have something to call her own.

Chuckie: for pushing me mentally to get this done.

My Financial Advisor: for not laughing too much at my predicament and helping me through this minefield.

Beaten by a 6 year old...

I managed to get a hold of a Nintendo Wii console... along with a copy of Wii Sports, which has already claimed its first victim. Although Chuckie will deny it, playing boxing on Wii Sports put him outa action for at least 2 days with a knackered back.

Anyhow, this weekend I introduced Em to bowling on the Wii, not only did she pick it up really quickly she now holds the record on the console. It's not much fun being hammered by a 6 year old so I quickly changed to a different game, she cant be any good at boxing, I mean, she's six..... and a girl.

She now holds the boxing record too... soon afterwards the console stopped working for some reason (ahem).

When there is a hush that I contain.

I'm still 39 at the time of this posting.....

For some reason being 40 has played on my mind, well, to be honest, since I was a teenager. 40 cant happen to me, or if it does I'll have done everything there is to do. Being 40 when I was a kid, in a mining town was the end. Thats it fella, you've had ya lot, sit back and perfect the art of being increasingly useless, embarrassing and alcoholic with serious bladder weakness and a mistrust of people who smile.

But back then I still had enthusiasm hope and glory, I could make a difference and hopefully, with a lot of luck and help from like minded people I'd somehow make the world a better place. Cos in the late 70's we had a choice, either be another coughing black lung statistic or perhaps, just perhaps escape to something a little brighter.

And then you come into contact with the arseholes of this world, put here for no reason than to test your faith in the human race. Be it managers, salesmen, politicians, wives, girlfriends, council officials, accountants, anything ginger, people from the Isle Of White, pilots, doctors, dentists or architects they strap you into that chair and spout forth a million reasons why.... YOU ARE WRONG.

And... for a time..... I believed them.

and that's why I havnt done everything I should have done.

Mitigating circumstances M'lod.....

So, I'm asking the Universe for an extension. I need some extended play here. I got sucked into a downward spiral of negativity on a colossal scale..... I think I've done my time, now it's your turn you fuckers, for the lies, for the hurt, for the evil that lives deep within your shallow soulless hearts - you know who you are - welcome to your cheap seats, I hope this really really hurts, keep those pearly whites glowing, cos you're gonna need them where you're going.

If ever I needed some cake, now would be the time.

Knit one, perl one, jam it in ya goolies........

I was sent to hospital on Friday, it would seem my Rheumatologist was concerned about my worsening hip and wanted me to have a huge needle jammed into my groin to "withdraw" any puss that might be there...... nice.

Anyhow, after screaming like a girl for most of the procedure the operating doctor told me that the fluid he extracted looked ok, no signs of puss or infection..... which is good cos apparently you can loose a leg if an infection goes unchecked (I assume its the painful leg that gets the chop in these circumstances!)

It came as a great shock to find out I was to stay in hospital over the weekend, I thought I'd be chucked out almost immediately after the needle incident, but the doc wanted to keep me under observation for a few days. Being the tit I am, I didn't bring anything in for the stay, no clothes, no PJ's, no toothbrush/paste, no porn. But thanks to Chuckie (again) he rallied round and got some stuff for me (except the porn)....... Thanks marra, thats another one I owe you.

Of course all the drugs and medication in the world will never make me feel as good as a visit from my little girlie, thanks to Sue and Gary for bringing my Em to see me, she made my weekend much better.

Em brought me a get well soon card which she made herself (without any help from mammy!)

Windows Vista..... or Dave's new girlfriend?

Hi, my name is David and I'm an IT consumer cow

Facts:

I know anything that is advertised in the media is a lie.
Microsoft products never live up to their hyped expectations
Microsoft products are grossly overpriced

So, why the hell did I buy Microsoft's new Vista PC Operating System?

Well, I didn't intend to purchase it, as most IT people know you never ever buy any software on its first release, it simply wont work. It'll be bug ridden, at best it'll just crash regularly, at worst it'll destroy any important data and attempt to reduce your hardware to a silicon paste. And you NEVER EVER buy an OS on first release..... The OS is the heart of your computing experience, it has a hand in every single thing that happens on that machine.

Anyhow, I was perusing the isles of PC WORLD, not looking for anything in particular, occasionally giggling at the enormous long queue of irate customers at the "Customer Service" desk waiting for the spotty herbert to tell them that everything the sales person said before the purchase was a lie and the only way of getting your money back would be to take them to court...... and if they don't leave in the next 60 seconds they will be forcibly ejected by the knuckle dragging shaved ape with the word "Security" sellotaped to his chest.

But that's not the point, this is...... PC World managed to mis-lable and price an entire shelf of Vista Home Premium (Full version, not Upgrade) DVD's.

Being a professional within the IT industry and working for a top blue chip IT company I did the right thing...... walked over to the queue of irate people at the customer service desk, told them PC World had dropped a bollock and had mis-priced Vista by £70 and by law MUST sell it to you at the stickered price....... Feeling very please with my self I returned to the checkout with my £70 lighter copy of Vista and bought it.

The manager wasn't happy, but after I'd explained to him that employing "the dangerously bewildered" on minimum wage to sticker goods worth hundreds of pounds was no fault but his own, and that Trading Standards could shut his shop at the drop of a hat if he refused my purchase, this had him smiling sweetly and wishing me a "good day" through gritted teeth.

No doubt the knuckle dragging shaved ape on the door has been trained to recognise me should I ever return and to remove my testicles with impunity.

Oh, and I guess you wanna know how I got on with Vista? Well, lets just say I'm back using XP as I feel being able to use my DVD drive and not having the browser crash every few moments is a bonus. On a technical note, if you have a system with Dynamic Disks then back them up first as Vista will tell you they are knackered and suggest you format...... not good.

It's a bit like previous girlfriends I've had, quite tasty on the outside but filled with disease and a passion to stop you doing anything you like.

Sirloin steak.....right on the bone.

Didnt really fancy coming back here. After loosing Addie I had to think about stuff I've never been comfortable with, its nothing anyone can help with, its just stuff that's within all of us but unique to each.... probably.

So, what's the big news? Well, I like to start with the good news first, as there's nothing quite like watching that elated happy-go-lucky smile fade to abject misery right in front of my eyes. (little house on the prairie, girl in gingham dress skipping down slope (the good news)...... suddenly, an Indian scalping party appears at the top of the hill behind and come running and screaming after her - (the bad news))

Good News:

1. My boss has been told to sling his hook. Of course, being a large blue-chip top 500 company it wasn't quite conveyed like that to his minions. It was something like this, ahem.......

"......blah...blah..... bluesky thinking......blah blah..... robust deliverables......Re-aligning GW's skill set to better leverage his potential in new emerging and exciting technologies".... blah blah...repurpose back-end architectures...... blah blah.....strategize one-to-one bandwidth....... blah blah....synergize extensible e-commerce"


in other words he was a kak handed gobshite who couldn't tell the difference between his own arse and an elbow. He single handedly reduced our customer base by a 1/3rd, cost thousands of pounds to the business by renaming the department from something that was self explanatory to something that required a degree in horse-shite to decipher. I wont linger on his social skills, but this fella could make Jade Goodie look like Mother Teresa..... there's more business intelligence in a tramps vest.... and we still have no idea "what he was for"

2. I'm looking for a place to buy.

3. Goober is now 40

Bad news:

I'm now a cripple. I cant walk, I've been screaming like a girl most of the week. My hip has thrown in the towel..... big time. There is NO position I can put my leg where there is NO pain. It's constant and I'm sick of it. I've had to find new and inventive ways of wearing socks. I now have to use a calculator and a set-square to help plan my next bowel movements. You have no idea how stupid you look shouting at your own leg in the middle of a shop when it decides it would be "clever" to ignore the heroic dose of painkillers you've been feeding it.

Anyhow, I've had the consultation with Sweeney Tod (do all Orthopaedic Surgeons have fixations on anything sharp and shiny?) and he is waiting on my MRI results.... which bizarrely I have on my PC right now. So, I should have an answer on which flavour of plastic hip I'll need and when he can slice open my upper thigh and play with his new Black&Decker hammer drill and Meccano No.6 kit to my old bones.

This is an MRI scan of my left hip...apparently. It looks more like Tesco's Meat counter to me.

no title required.....

She keeps a distance, but she’s always there, watching, waiting, but most of all anticipating for the time when I return. She knows. We share a bond, and have done for over 16 years, she’s seen a wife and several loves both come and go and not once cast a judgement. Even tho at times I’ve taken her for granted, left for what must seem years at a time, yet she still greeted me with affection and love.

Her very name means “love and understanding”, something I first discovered in the lyrics and music of Stuart Adamson. In recent years she has become an educator to my daughter, teaching her the subtle qualities of care and responsibility, something that is sadly missing from a host of people around us who think they know what “love” means and is shown in their reactions to our situation.

At the moment she is fighting for her life, and the small group which I call “my family” are in limbo…… She is dying, there is no question of that, and with her passing I too will experience another part of “who I am” slip away.

I can only offer her comfort, she will go as she came, cradled in my arms.

My little girlie, my DC, my AddieCat.

Ssssshhhhhh, can you hear the voices?

Ok, I don't usually go for these online personality test things, they are only there to sell you a diagnosis of some major character flaw and before you know it you're a gibbering wreck, living under a bridge and £2000 lighter.

But, this one came from Kat, someone who seems to be sane, upstanding and without character flaws (ok, so believing you have a pair of haunted nutcrackers may not pass scrutineering by a professional on a leather chair, it's still harmless.... at the moment, so it doesn't count), so I thought I'd give it a go.....

These are my results..... if you know me, then feel free to comment. If you're a professional shrink and think you can help, then you can find me in the 3rd cardboard box under Staines bridge

Setback after setback has resulted in considerable stress and now you have got to the stage where you are continuously on your guard, not only to protect yourself from others but to protect yourself from yourself.

It would seem that many of your unfulfilled hopes and dreams have led to uncertainty and suspicion. You no longer wish to answer to others and you are insisting on freedom of thought.

You are seeking ways to protect yourself from further loss of prestige and against further setbacks. You have become very dependent and you doubt that matters could possibly get any better in the immediate future and this negative attitude is leading you to exaggerate your claims and to refuse reasonable compromise.

You are probably English, northern, fat and most likely bald as a coot.

The good news is that you are not paranoid, everyone really does think you're a tit.

If you want to have a go, then go here...... remember to paste your results back here. We can then compare and see who is most likely to knit themselves a suit from the skin of their dead victims.

1973 - burn baby burn (....cos it's all 100% Nylon)

I've got a serious case of "cant-be-arsed" going on. I have NO interest in anything I'm doing, and Christmas is nothing more than a reminder that everything I've previously done was wrong.

Anyhow, some months ago I came across an old UK home shopping catalogue from 1973... In '73 I was 6..... and more importantly Sunderland AFC won the FA cup..... which has nothing to do with this post, so I'll carry on.

This catalogue is fantastic, it's a snapshot of almost anything that you could purchase, and an awful lot of stuff that you shouldn't.

From highly flammable 100% Terilene/Nylon sleepwear to Fibreglass curtains and more Crimpolene than you can shake a steam iron at.

After the initial shock at the non-biodegradable materials used you start to notice the colours. WOW, I can only imagine before 1973 all clothes/carpets were either black & white or just brown. The words "busy" and "why" are constant companions on each turn of the page.

So here's a few I've "cut out"......

This poor unfortunate lass on the left here is typical of the clothes on offer.

I'm speechless.... I can only assume there's a dog's bed somewhere in London missing it's cover.

At some point, the manufacturer sat down with the designers and agreed this "garment" was marvelous and should be mass produced and sold for a premium...... just let that soak in for a while, no doubt these people have retired and are drawing huge pensions. Proof there is no justice in this word.

It's got flared sleeves for Christs sake! I think it could be a kind of contraception rather than clothing.

I'm welling up here, Oh the shame!

I guess by now you've seen the abomination which is the fella on the right. There's not one thing right about this. I've no idea where you'd wear this to, no, hold on..... apparently there are clubs that cater for this kind of perversion, I think I leave this one here.

I think we need to move onto some of the flooring that was available. You need to prepare yourself first, I would suggest taking a seat.... one with a belt would be good as I think you'll need to hang on as you may become nauseated and a little confused.

here we go....

and again.....

I feel for the cat on that last one, you can see its terrified! it darent move! I can understand buying one of these carpets if you're incontinent or need to cover up a crime scene, apart from that I'm baffled.

and to round off, here's a few that require no comment at all.

Stuffed and remembered

A video of all the stills I took while on tour with The Wonder Stuff.....

Music by Miles Hunt "These Things Remembered" Demo, used with kind permission

If you like what you've heard then why not buy the album

Ganin' yairm t'tek sum pictures liek

It was a Saturday, no Em to entertain and the weather not conducive to silly lean angles so I decided to drive 300 miles to where I grew up and take some pictures. So here are a few from the small town where I grew up.....

Easington Colliery, Co Durham, UK....

This site was originally occupied by the Easington Colliery Coal Mine, when the profits were too small for the black suited boys they closed the pit. Now all that stands there is this monument to over 100 years of coal mining. It is in fact the cage used to carry the men (and equipment) up and down the south shaft... Including my father, brother and countless other relatives and friends.

The North East Coast.... From Hartlepool to Seaton Carew.

The Cage - looking south east

Seaton Carew - Beachcomber

a Beach Txt'er

Sunset @ dawn

I see no ships