another laundry visit

greetings

so yes, as the title gives (every) indication, i went to make use of a local laundry. the same as last time, and in regards of local, that would be being local to my lodgings in my era of exile, look you see. indeed, some four (4) years as it has now been. anyway, if you missed the (partially informative) post on the first visit i made, here's the link to it. enjoy, knock yourself out. 

oddly, or actually, there was a stab at some useful information in that previous post, with a kind of quasi look at if it was more cost effective to use a laundry than purchase a washing machine and tumble dryer. except i did not factor in to it a "combo" washer dryer. oh. whoops. anyway, that means there's every chance of no useful information featuring here. 

there's a picture of the washing machines of the laundry then, presented in the format of that thermal scanner app thing i have on my increasingly useless phone. yes, the main component of the image are the larger machines they have on offer, designed (somewhat obviously) for bigger loads. as i had slightly more stuff to do (further bedding and whatever i could cram into the red bag you can see glimpses of) i did go and use one of these big boy machines. the cost of this was £1 north of the machine i used last time, or if you will £6.50. 

no, i did not "do a Nick Kamen" in the laundry. my suspicion is that the other patrons would not experience any nostalgic joy from me doing so. also it would likely have made things awkward for the very, very helpful chap what runs the place. i just sat and read a novel (in this instance the Steve Cavanagh one recently commented on in a post) whilst the machines did their thing, with the occasional instance of stepping outside to have a cigarette (sorry). 

a video of the washing machine doing its thing, then, for those of you what like that sort of thing. unfortunately (or alas) i did not think to make a video of the tumble dryer, but rather just enjoy what is on offer here rather than what is not. 

will (or shall) i be making further laundry visits? i would expect so. this is true whilst we remain in a sort of winter like state, for it's somewhat easier to get the stuff dried. also i just can't work out how i would hang (to dry) bedding in my modest lodgings. there is also that i, strangely, have found just sitting in the laundry most relaxing. it's like i have to be there and can't be somewhere else, so i can just chill and read, or watch the drum in the machine go round and round. every now and then just pausing does one wonders. 

how likely is it that these laundry visits shall become the new "car wash" sort of post, where i document each and every such adventure? quite, if we are honest. for the most part i do just try and have a quiet, normal life, so there's not always too much of excitement to post here. 

rather like the car wash posts (and one of them is due relatively soon) there's very much a finite number of things i can write on the subject. so, well, let me leave it there. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

books what i read

heya

for regular readers (thank you), you know what the next sentence is here. once more i have read two novels, look you see, and so as has become the standard i offer up to anyone remotely interested my thoughts on them. really have no idea if these posts make any difference to any reading decision anyone makes, but here we go once more.

as is indeed relatively usual, an image of the two (2) novels) follows, which itself gets followed by a brief kind of overview thing. beyond that, well, whilst every effort is made to avoid such, it may be that one or two of those "spoiler" type of comments may be contained. you have, as the saying goes, been warned. 

going left to right (if i have that the right way around) i am delighted to say that The Boys From Biloxi is if not classic Grade A then certainly quality Grade B+ off of John Grisham, which is splendid as i have an immediate and irrational dislike for any work of art which fails to feature the letter "e" in its title. and Fifty Fifty off of Steve Cavanagh was really, really good, despite the plot premise sounding all rather too familiar and in the area of being tired. 

before getting into each of these i am rather delighted to say that both have helped (if not enabled) me rediscover a love of reading. i had, probably in the last post on this sort of thing, expressed concerns that my interest in such was dwindling. perhaps i just had a change of view (or what have you) which just happened to happen when i picked these to read. right, moving on, and yeah, go on then, just in case here's one of them *** SPOILER WARNING *** things for you for the rest. except the bit at the end of all of this. 

to start, or indeed commence (several paragraphs later) where i did will be to start with The Boys From Biloxi off of John Grisham. indeed it is so that at the time of writing this is a good couple of years old. as it happens i have a few Grisham sat here to read, which is odd as normally they would get priority. provenance, for those really fussed by such, is probably Tesco, likely a "book of the week" affair. will have bought it on sight. you know what now that i think it might have been a a book which was (and i assume as a complete one off) bewilderingly cheaper at WH Smith. no matter, got it and read it. 

plot? it's a vast, sprawling epic (north of 500 pages) set in, as the title gives every indication, an area of Biloxi. quite a few years are covered, with the premise effectively showing two families on opposing sides of the law who, from time to time, clash. obviously this being a Grisham novel means that one of the families features lawyers, for clarification.

i am not at all sure how much, exactly, i would wish to say about that in respect of the specifics of the book. mindful of me being somewhat "meh" about reading when i elected to give this one a go, it proved to be thoroughly absorbing. perhaps such terms are a cliche, but i did find myself struggling to put it down. i was very much "oh go on, one more chapter", no matter how late the hour or whether the laundry i was sat waiting for was done. it's a fascinating, interesting narrative one can easily delve and dive into, with the length of it never, ever being padding or a case of dragging stuff out for the sake of it. my instinct is to refer to this as "classic" Grisham, rather akin to the books he wrote in the 90s which were of similar size and compelling reading. over the course of this century thus far he has, from time to time, delivered novels which are fine but just lacking that sense of depth or detail which made him such a phenomenal success. 

my thinking is that this is very much a novel i would suggest to someone who had heard of John Grisham, perhaps even have seen some of the films, but had not read any of his books. from here on out it would be a voyage of discovery, with most of it good. indeed this paragraph exists so that i can feel that i have written a fair bit of a most impressive novel. actually that's probably why most reviews always look for negatives. once something is established as good (or great, excellent or what have you) then there's not much else one can say. far easier to give something a kicking, there's always plenty of words the determined mind can find for such. 

usually i would deliberately not read two thematically similar novels in a row. so after reading one legal thriller next would likely be a horror or at least a thriller not really legal related. yet on i went to give a go to a novel i likely picked up 3 or so years ago, being Fifty Fifty off of Steve Cavanagh. as the stickers make abundantly clear this one was purchased from The Works for what looks like a very good price. 

what's the story, or if you will plot, here? a quite prominent member of the New York society gets brutally murdered. his two daughters were apparently there, and each accuses the other of committing the crime. evidence of a science nature indicates "either or both" did it. in comes Eddie Flynn once more, opting to defend the sister (or daughter) which he believes is entirely innocent of it all........

to be honest i purchased this because of how excellent one of his previous novels, Thirteen, was, and how very good two more books by Steve Cavanagh (Twisted and The Liar) were. in terms of the basic premise of the plot i (very much) had a sense of it maybe being done before again and again, with it feeling worn out. from memory there was a reasonably decent episode of that CSI thing which use the "one of these sisters did it" plot. just how (bloody) good Thirteen was is something which means Mr Cavanagh has an awful lot of credit in stock with me, so i figured why not and gave it a go. 

very glad indeed that i did. the fluent, fluid paced writing is exceptional. how jealous am i of never being able to write quite so well as this. there's one or two outstanding sub plots of value, but mostly yes, the writer pulls off the "twist" here, although that doesn't feel right. by which i do indeed mean that once you are absolutely (totes) certain you have worked out which sister is guilty the very next chapter makes you change your mind. all of which makes it such a great read. 

so, there you go. two novels which were fantastic reads, and ones that i would not hesitate to suggest or recommend to anyone. well, some of the murder details in Fifty Fifty might not be for the squeamish, for at heart this novel is purely inspired by the "pulp" fiction genre, but still. 

if for some reason you are interested in moi and my enthusiasm for reading, well, i have gone right ahead and tested such. as a sort of preview (or sneak peek) at the next post like this (should i of course make it far enough to do it) i have elected to read a Scott Mariani novel. no, really. up to now i am rather enjoying it, so either it's one he could be bothered to do a decent job with, or i am just all full tilt in favour of reading once more. we shall see what ridiculous plot twist comes in. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

fiat

saluti a te

if you are either a regular reader of this blog or simply utilise weirdly specific google searches and keep finding my musings on certain subjects you will, i fear, be aware that every now and then i am expected to briefly drive different sorts of vehicles. this is not exactly my profession, look you see, and no it certainly is not a passion of mine. all the same, for some reason i feel obliged (if not compelled) to share thoughts, feelings and findings on them. 

as you have likely (or probably) worked out from the title, in this instance i was given one of them fiat things to drive. no, alas, i forgot to take the details of which model, but i am pretty sure the name of it began, or if you like commenced, with a b. hope that narrows it down. 

my feelings on this one are mostly neutral. to be fair i only drove around in it for a short while, and likely no more than 20 (or so) miles. nope, no idea what that is in kilometres. but, overall, it was totes a way better experience than the last hire van i had to drive. 

best aspects of this one? in no specific order (except it is in a specific order) - it's not French, it has an actual proper CD player and the windscreen wipers and wash jets were unexpectedly very satisfactory to watch do their thing. the latter there you can sort of experience in the below video. 

there's a fair bit of space in the cabin, too, making it almost comfortable to drive. a person of my size can, at the least, get in and out of it without too much in the way of contortion. not as flexible as i once was, to be sure. quite surprised to find the seat was reasonably comfortable, too. in may cases with this sort of vehicle, a van, it's often the case that they wish to break your spine (or do damage to it) as an inexplicable and never clarified form of punishment. 

sadly it's not all good in the cabin, or at the controls. for some reason they've gone with a (vaguely) minimalist approach with the steering wheel, instead of a practical one. it's like someone down at the design meeting went "go on, let's make a little part of it French, it will be good for a laugh". so one has to fight for a narrow gap in the steering wheel to see the important dashboard stuff like speed, fuel and what have you. with the dashboard being laid out in a mostly inefficient, highly French way. 

when i, and i would dare to presume most other people, am (are) driving, i want to be able to see and identify important information (in particular speed) in less than second. i have no wish to be distracted looking for where they have hidden something. 

easily the very (or most) worst thing about this fiat is that it is so incredibly boxy looking. rather surprising. if we are honest about it the main contribution Italy has made is to stand around looking all trendy and stylish, and no one does that as well as the Italians do. yes, true, they also produce footballers who can do a triple barrel forward roll and complete it with crying at the merest trigger, but that's for another time. the whole thing looks like one may expect to find a Lego van would, or worse still how i would draw a van. 

looks aren't everything, some say, but they are to Italy. it is simply not so that there is anything at all to Italy beyond the surface value of looks and appearance, so far as i am aware. even the handles are a little bit rubbish, looking at that picture above. maybe the Italians got bored of being outrageously beautiful all the time and decided to have a go at being dull and awkward. this van is the direct result of such dalliance. 

have (or had) i ever driven a fiat before? not knowingly. well, i have certainly been in one before, but the details of that are best left unsaid. really, what happened is not appropriate to write of here. i did tell a good friend once, in a diplomatic (as in censored) way, and they took a solemn vow never ever to purchase a fiat for fear of the psychological trauma. 

easily the worst, or rather most annoying, aspect of this fiat was the position of the driver's seatbelt. it is set ridiculously far back in the cabin. ne cannot grab it with their right hand without dislocating stuff and you have to full tilt turn and stretch to get it with your left hand. why? just why? i know the Dutch do something similar with door handles so as to force drivers to watch out for cyclists, but this cannot be anything to do with that. 

giving any sort of comment on how it performs in a driving sense (the business end of any vehicle, you would think) strikes me as unfair. the nice chap from the hire company spent some time pointing out to me all the known dents, bumps and scratches on the van before having me sign something or other. he likely spent more time highlighting these than i spent actually driving. absolutely no idea what sort of crazed lunatic drove it before i did, perhaps it was one of my verk colleagues or just someone who really, really likes pinball. 

for the most part, then, this fiat having a sixth (forward motion) gear was just about as superfluous as an Italian prime minister making plans for more than a year ahead. when approaching thirty or forty miles this van made the mechanical equivalent sounds of that smart "careful now" sign Father Dougal famously waved around in Father Ted. i may have done all that needed to be done with my life but this does not mean i wish for it to end (sorry to disappoint), so i wasn't going to "push it to the limit". or maybe i did, and that limit is around 38mph. also the brakes were fascinating. there was a distinct sense of chance to whether depressing the brake pedal would have any discernible effect. 

overall, this fiat joins a reasonably long list of vehicles which one ends up driving because they have to, rather than because they want to. i can scarcely fathom this century we live in, but surely automotive technology has gone beyond producing things like this simply for the sake of it. still, a win as it had an actual, proper CD player in it. decent speakers, too. 

essere eccellenti gli uni con gli altri!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hey what's going on down there

hello there

despite what you (or some) might think, no, i really don't have some ambition, will or appetite to do at least one (1) post a year on the subject of cigarettes. well, actually i very much would if any producer or manufacturer of cigarettes (Marlboro in particular, if you are listening) would sponsor me to do so, look you see. a sad reality is that there's not all that much of a life for me to write about, and what there is of it invariably involves cigarettes. 

sadly, or if you will alas, this isn't a rundown on the joys of Marlboro. for a potentially further disappointment this is all about the same kind of (ahem) independently source cigarettes as i wrote about as recently as last month, or some time ago, depending on when you are reading this. 

my reason (well, most of it) for revisiting these ones is an entirely different kind of warning image on them. yes, for clarification (or as a disclaimer) smoking is quite bad for you and one should either not smoke or quit, whichever is applicable in your life. but also no, i tend to note the warning images and then disregard them. unless, as you can see here in the variations of delights of VHS mode images, they are of some fascinating nature. 

it is an unfortunate thing, if not quite a matter of regret, that my Belarusian (or what they speak there) is not all it could be. i have no idea what the text says, but going on the image this particular do not smoke warning is a variation on that "smoking makes you impotent" threat or suggestion. an interesting spin on this one, with other similar ones featuring a chap looking downstairs (as it were) with some visible distress, or that one where there's a cigarette hole burned through where one's private (or intimate) parts should be. allowing for that being (considerably) much more of a naked man than i would wish to have a picture of, i am reasonably taken by the rather elegant ladies' hand giving a clear thumbs down. 

following on, as opposed to making this a prequel, from my first post on these cigarettes, do i feel bad about potentially funding the Soviet (or whatever) war effort buy purchasing these? kind of. again, i am not in any way stopping Ukraine from flooding the UK market with cheap cigarettes. to be fair, for all i know (my provider does not take kindly to questions) these are off of Ukraine, and it is that i am funding the side what we in the west are apparently supporting. still, with it being either they are of direct Belarusian provenance of some crafty Ukrainians have swiped a load and are offloading them here to raise "black funds" (i think that's what the CIA calls it), it remains true that every one of these cigarettes i have has likely purchased a bullet to be used in anger. if i were to say "sorry" for this, it would be an apology of the nature of, in the first instance, Sir Keir Starmer but if we are honest virtually any politician except those who never apologise, like Sadiq or Boris. which means i shall say sorry, have the ability (and option) to change and do it differently (or more better) but shall not. 

warnings on packets of cigarettes are, of course, a distressing subject which i have written of before. one of the best (in context) was that time when the EU decided to "ban" the UK from using the images they did, presumably because of Brexit. but also there's some cool replacement warning images i have encountered on my travels, like, for instance, this one. 

have i ever experienced the "hey what's going on down there" sensation which it is proclaimed that i would totes do by smoking? to be honest it doesn't get all that much use, but i don't really think it has been a problem. maybe it is just a thing where "some" men get affected. like, you know, and i am really surprised no one has kicked off on this one, how the warning images on packets of cigarettes usually only feature one ethnic group. 

leaving aside the ethics, or moral ambiguity of purchasing these cigarettes, my main plight with them is very much of my own making. so taken by them have i been (and i never thought i would like any flavoured cigarette) that i have offered one or two to friends of mine who smoke. they have all been just as impressed and have made polite enquiries as if to i could procure them some too. oh. hey ho, if a succession of governments here wish to toss away potential, actual tax revenue by charging so much that we, the people, are forced to find independent distributors, that's on them. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

when i look back upon my life it's always with a sense of shame

howdy pop pickers

yes, indeed i am (quite) aware of how the title for all of this (if you read on) is totes from a different song and a different artist. just seemed (or felt) apt, look you see. 

further indeed this is a post (yet again, or once more) concerning Derek "David" Bowie. is it is so that for the particular date this is published i always consider something of more personal significance. my imagination, in this instance, stretched all the way to exploring the "how and why" of me becoming a Bowie fan. there is every chance such is of little or no interest to anyone, but, well, here it is. not that i have ever wished to understand it, but who knows, with the clock ticking and the little green wheels following me, might be of some (passing) interest to someone. 

so, allowing for an awareness of Bowie before this, that moment, some 41 (!) years ago, was the coming to my ears (and indeed eyes) the song Blue Jean.

remember all too well, i do, the heavy promotional advertising what Channel  (of at the time four channels) did to announce they were exclusively screening something called Jazzin' For Blue Jean, which was a short film about a new song off of that David Bowie. so, i watched it, on a portable tv in my bedroom. 14" screen, if i recall. didn't think to video it. this is a video i have written of before, and if i remember will add links at the end. for the perspective of an 11 year old watching it, some of it was quite boring, some of it funny (the Frankie t-shirt), some of it was confusing (why was this great pop star being presented as a bumbling idiot not very good with girls) and the song was ace. 

the song, if i am being honest (which i trust i am) was hugely influential on me. it's almost accurate to say that the lyrics (or the words i heard) came to define which way aspects of my life would take. that's a remarkable amount of weight that i am putting on not just a three minute pop song, but one that for some reason over the years many have discarded as "second rate" and what have you. 

oddly it's only in the last year (or so) that i have taken ownership of the song as a 7". i found it on the market and instantly purchased it, not caring for the price. but, anyway, those lyrics. 

she got a camouflaged face and no money

what i heard at the time, and it was more recent than you might think that i looked at the actual, proper lyrics, was "she got a camouflage face in my mind". hmn. i would not say that i came up with a better set of words than Bowie, but what i heard, incorrectly, had a massive impact. it was like, wow, what an amazing image to create, that's impressive describing someone as an ever present, hidden though in your mind. dare i say that was the first grasp at a definition of "love" i had encountered, or become aware of? find someone who you feel like that (misheard) lyric was to be my quest. 

one day i,m gonna write a poem in a letter

right, thank you Mr Bowie, so that's how it is done. when there's a girl you like then you send them a poem in a letter. and that's been my, for the real (true) want of a better phrasing, approach over the years. at first "borrowed" lyrics, then my own musings. mixed results, for those interested. some spectacular failures, but when it worked it did indeed work. 

perhaps, possibly, probably a combination of the above all indirectly led me to years of studying literature and having some consider me, no matter how bad the writing here often is, quite good at it. going to say it directly led to me doing so is inaccurate, for that is something i remain forever grateful to a very special teacher and good friend. 

for fun there's (yet) another image of the Tonight tape (actual) i pinched out of Dad's car. had i thought to pinch the box and cover too, well, who knows, maybe i would have learned the actual (proper) lyrics for Blue Jean and beyond. this tape has travelled far and wide with me. back in the 80s i used to play the start of side one, which was the equally brilliant Loving The Alien, then flip the tape over, rewind a bit and listen to Blue Jean. 

one day i'm gonna get that faculty together

woah, there! of course what 11 year old me heard was "i'm going to get the f*****g thing together". this impressed me no end. not the actual swearing (which did not exist), but the fact that you could swear on a song and, presumably if you were David Bowie, it would get played on the tele and on the radio, for it was all right as "David was doing it and he was allowed". impact on me of the misheard lyric was, once again, significant. not that i have always followed what i had learned from this line that did not exist, but it was saying to me it's ok to be critical of yourself, it's ok to gee yourself up and make you work towards what you wanted to be. 

since i mentioned the song, a brief detour for Loving The Alien. much of it was lost on 11 year old me, but it remained intriguing and frequently played. just not as much as Blue Jean did. to this day i am not sure i fully comprehend the song, yet consider it a masterpiece. well, special to me. 

the video for Blue Jean also set a level of expectation for what it was like in these "nightclub" places i had heard of, and yearned to be of an age to visit. yes, the bar was set quite high, then, and no, as it turned out, the clubs of Middlesbrough did not quite live up. oh well. it was all going to be glitzy and glamorous, apparently, with beautiful ladies just sat there in some contrived nonchalance, daring anyone around to try and impress them. for the most part what impressed me was the (i assumed) impromptu way all on the dancefloor followed the same dance patterns naturally. it felt like it would be wonderful as and when i would get to experience, that sense of belonging, of being not alone. 

certainly it was so that i eventually discovered nightclubs were not as were promised off of the video. no, far removed. i have no idea what they are like now, but soon i was faced with a reality of them being places where people went to get smashed, stoned, to f***, to fight, to fall either in or out of love and not appear top care which, or if you will they were a pool where one went not to bathe in the joy of life but rather momentarily drown the misery of it. quite a shame. 

hearing that dramatic, thunderous opening to Blue Jean never fails to lift my spirits. perhaps, in particular of late, i should really listen to it more. i really neither care nor mind that some elect to be dismissive of the song, each to their own and all that. for me Blue Jean was the moment i went "right, i was aware of him, now i am a fan" and certainly i was in for quite a ride when i undertook the odyssey of exploring his work before this. 

i am not sure i have worded this all as i would have wished, no clue if i have underlined the impact of this song and unaware of anyone having the slighted interest. but, there it is. as ever, my thanks for reading, or simply glancing at the pictures. 

unlikely, but if you wished to read even more of what i have written of Blue Jean, and the Tonight album (and also Loving The Alien), here's a few links 

mostly the Blue Jean video 

the Loving The Alien "bloody nose" oddity

random bowie Tonight post

and just because even more people unfairly sh!t on it like they do Tonight

the Tin Machine myth

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

trolley

now then

it does feel like quite some time - perhaps over a year, look you see - since i last wrote any thoughts or similar about seeing a shopping trolley in an unusual location. quite a lot of that would be down to not really noticing too many about no more, but also there is the fact that i have possibly exhausted all discourse or conversation (as one sided as it may be) in regards of them. 

go on then, since i have little else to write. i checked and it seems April 2023 was the last time i made reference to a trolley. blimey, that's nearly 2 years. for those who(m) insist on specifics, 22 months ago, give or take a few hours and days. either people are foolishly reading the signs which ask patrons to leave the trolleys (trollies) at the supermarkets or scrapyards are back in business accepting them for some lovely, lovely cash. 

oddly this post breaks a "thing" of mine. usually i try to avoid doing consecutive posts on a similar theme or subject. here, however, is a weird one. this trolley was located not too far from where i saw a goose of undetermined nationality (but likely Egyptian). a few steps away, as point of fact. so that kind of counts as a similar subject, i suppose. no, same setting is closer to accuracy. the writing is rather unlikely to get any more interesting, by the way. 

with the above in mind, yes, then, this was all in a rather if not posh then certainly wealthy area of that there London (innit). they would definitely prefer to be seen as posh, but as the sadly late David Lynch exposed one does not have to scratch too far below a surface to find not all is what it seems. my suspicion is that the residents of this area would claim to have never experienced the joys of pushing a trolley around, instead allowing their staff or "people" to do it. which potentially makes where this one came from, and how it ended up where it was, a slight mystery. 

above is, potentially, the single most pointless video i have ever added here. indeed i do appreciate the gravity or bold nature of such a statement, contemplating as i momentarily am some of the truly awful videos what i have added. little can be gained in terms of insight from watching the above, but then there may be some entertainment in trying to work out the shadowy figure moving in the background. yes, the shadowy nature is down to me using VHS mode, but still. 

did the trolley have anything of interest in it? considering how close this all was to the Thames i suspected a rat, a fox or indeed both may be in it or nearby, so elected not to go too close. from what i can see, and you may well be able to yourself in the picture below, it looks like a few cannisters which may have had some gas in them. perhaps this trolley, which i saw sat there for a couple of days untroubled, is a main distribution point for that "hippie crack" stuff so beloved by trendies, professional footballers and other, similar wastes of space. 

my days of wandering the wastelands of that there London (innit) are, for better or worse, to reach closing time quite soon. at least from a verk perspective. this is kind of the best of times, the worst of times. nothing lasts forever, if it proves to be so i shall miss certain aspects (many of them being entirely money) and other things i would not care to see or experience again. 

everyone, i think, should at least consider thinking (to borrow a phrase) about keeping a trolley at home. one could see it as a tribute to Dale Winton's Supermarket Sweep. failing that, there will always be a scrapyard with cash to buy it from you. see it as a kind of "crypto" thing, but actually of genuine value and a more realistic way of having something in the bank. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

goose

greetings

yes, then, as the title (kind of) gives every indication, this post concerns a goose what i gone done saw. well, ostensibly, look you see. sadly i think, mostly, this shall just showcase how bad the camera is on one of them "samsung galaxy" things, for the pics and videos are rather wanting. no idea how it is that they have become "market leaders". if you are going to weld a camera to a phone, at least make it a decent one. doesn't have to be fancy, just serviceable. 

my apologies for those of you who(m) saw the title and assumed that this would be about the goose, as in Goose out of Top Gun and, kind of, Top Gun Maverick. little i can immediately think of would bring me as much pleasure as writing of him, but i am doing this one now. 

for matters of provenance, yes, once more i was in that there London (innit) this was for a verk concern, and yes it will be quite likely that the majority of my days will be there for the year (2025). as most of you shall have worked out i was "north of the river". on stepping outside my hotel momentarily to do a certain thing (sorry) i could not help notice this goose. well, it would be hard to miss. he, she or it, whichever is right, was sort of mooching around, picking at the occasional bit of lawn for reasons i am not sure of but likely relate to food. 

it may (or might) be a good idea to take in that image above again, really. as suggested, or directly stated at the start, the quality of the visuals here is not so good. indeed such could be said to be true of any images what i have recorded and added here over the last 20 (!) or so years, but still. please, LG, start making phones again, yours were class and the best i had used in the "touchscreen" era. 

above is one of two (2) video things i took, with the second (of two) being below. if there's any issue with focus or what have you and you are all that bothered it is samsung you want to tell all about it. now that i think about it i am sure their slogan was, once, "the quest for zero defects". presumably they remain steadfast on that quest, with the completion a fair way off. 

there was some surprise (since things get worse when i try and zoom in) that i could get as close as i did to this goose. i had no wish to startle it, for the goose was simply doing goose things. or what i take to be goose things, i am no expert. also i had no wish to get knacked off of the goose. not sure if they are quite so territorial as a swan would be, or as vicious, but it did not occur to me to find out. 

what "sort" of goose was this? as in which "breed" or even species if that is the proper, more better term to use for an unsolicited presumed question? owing to what little knowledge i had of potential types of geese in the area i initially assumed one of them Canadian geese. a proper one, mind, and not one of the ones off of Canada that for some reason think it quite class to be French. my research on that google thing, however, gave every indication that such geese had a much darker top of head and eye area. 

my thanks to a good friend, though, with who(m) i shared the (at a push) better quality image with, long before i added all this here. it is her considered and learned opinion that i had, as point of fact, had a chance encounter with an Egyptian goose. does every single country on the planet have a type of goose named after them? no idea, but it would be boss if it were so. 

exactly how does an Egyptian goose, or a cleverly disguised Canadian goose, end up wandering the somewhat expensive wastelands of the northern side of the Thames? not sure, but i do have a vague theory. it strikes me that there's an alarming number of people in that there London (innit) with vast wealth and little to do with their time. would not at all surprise me to learn that one of them had gone right ahead and imported some, setting them free, as a simple matter of something to do to pass their time. since, on my experience (limited as it is), the one goose has no quarrel with this, no real harm done, except the momentary bewilderment of asking why. 

here's hoping i get to see some more kind of interesting things and share them here. otherwise, well, if you opt to read the usual stuff i do, thanks for doing so. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

nosferatu

hello there

and so my somewhat unexpected interest in going to the cinema last year (2024) continues into this one, look you see. with me ending up being based, for a week, near a cinema within walking distance, off i went to go and see (at this moment in time) a fairly recent release. true, i wasn't all that bothered about seeing Nosferatu, but the reviews were rather good. should you be in a rush, i am glad that i did, for it is a fine if not radically life changing film. 

if you are wanting plot details, essentially (as in actually) it's a slightly altered version of Dracula. for some reason the current "myth" being floated is that Nosferatu was a German story which "just so happened" to come along around the time of Dracula. not so, except the German bit. it was a deliberate and flagrant rip off, which a court confirmed when the makers got sued for copyright. you could do worse than read up on it all as it's quite interesting. 

the ever so slight spin to the usual plot here (and by the way, spoilers from here on out) is that in the first instance it is the central female character, Ellen, who "summons" the vampire into existence, kind of out of boredom. oddly, actually, the spin works. beyond that, much the same. 

yes, then, once again it was off to the Ealing Project to see the film, where i went several (i think actually seven) times last year. it is still so that Tuesday is an agreeable "half price", which meant in coins £7.50 for the ticket. regular (or medium) popcorn and a large (actually massive) coke came in at £9. also they had a sign up which indicated that the air conditioning was busted. not a problem, and i figured that i would just take my jumper off if it got too hot. alas, as it turned out the aircon was busted in the other direction, and it felt like we were all sat in a fridge watching the film. kind of apt, since i am reluctant to say "cool", way to watch a gothic film. 

when the film started i had a bit of a "meh" sense. the leads, Lilly-Rose Depp and Nicholas Hoult, at first felt they were a little wooden, and nightmares of Keanu Reeves "doing" an English accent came to mind. as it all progressed, however, fears went away. the performances were accurate to the characters, and not (thankfully) a sort of odd tribute to the somewhat weak parts of the otherwise superb Dracula of 1993 (or thereabouts). 

on that note, the vampire, here named Orlok, was given the "less is more", hidden in the shadows approach. very wise, really, as to play a full tilt, charismatic, out in the open variation of the character is to invite comparisons to Gary Oldman and, of course, Christopher Lee. few mortals can do well in such a comparison. Bill Skarsgård does fine in the role as it was done. standout for me was Simon McBurney who was outstanding as Knock, the enslaved servant to the vampire. in respect of the main cast draw, Willem Dafoe does his thing. i liked the approach they took with the "vampire hunter", not making him a noisy loud eccentric, rather a highly educated man who had seen enough to know that so much more lurks in the places we cannot, or dare not, see. 

my main thoughts on what makes this film so good is its pacing. that may sound strange, but bear with. the only real flaw with what was probably my "best" film of last year, The Substance, was that the wrong bits were either dragged out or rushed. over the course of north of two hours Nosferatu manages to successfully hold audience attention, no matter how familiar one is with the story, by delivering a superb example of how to structure and pace a motion picture. that's what overall elevates this to being a really good film. student learning their craft would, from my audience perspective, do well to study how this was put together. 

further there was, unexpectedly, quite a bit of nudies (female) on the go. this was a very welcome surprise, except for the one bit of nudies what featured (and you sort of had a spoiler warning) rats. also there were one or two scenes featuring special effects which suggested that those what made this had seen both The Evil Dead and The Exorcist and liked what they saw. 

no idea what film next, or when i shall next be close enough to the cinema. from what i can remember of the trailers Sinners looks excellent, Mickey 17 looks really funny and Wolf Man might be all right, if unlikely to rival any of my favourite werewolf films. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

air max

howdy

if you are surprised that i am doing a post on some new shoes so soon after the last one on the very same subject (link, look you see) then i am too. whereas nothing overtly bad or untoward happened with the last pair, all the same it was so that i needed new ones. undoubtedly i shall reference such as we go. 

as the title gives every (and all) indication of, indeed i am now the owner of a pair of air max shoes, or trainers (or "kicks" as one good friend called them) off of nike. my surprise here is twofold, if that does in fact mean there are two aspects to it. first off that they were available in my size was a new one, and the second thing would be that they were if not "affordable" then relatively within a kind of impromptu cost that i felt kind of comfortable paying. 

to address the first element of surprise there, well, us of a larger disposition (or whatever you wish to call it) do struggle. my size 13 (!) feet generally means my choice of quality footwear is limited to one of two pairs a shop may have. by the way, that size (according to the box) translates as being 14 in the realm of America, and some arbitrary, stupid made up number in the frankly ludicrous way them over in that mainland Europe (EU and beyond) give shoe measurements. one suspects the limitation on choice i and others face is economics. with the vast majority of people in this world having feet what measure a 12 or below ("fewer") it is not cost effective to make too many larger. this is of course different to other garments, in particular shirts, where the "well known" brands don't make sizes beyond 2xl. quite frankly that's all prejudice; the companies do not want large people wearing their clothes. 

yes it was quite by chance, and some strategic placing in the shop, that i saw these. having not ever seen a fancier pair of trainers in my size available before normally it would not occur to me to look at the more designer section of shoes in a shop. but, i did, i found them, and here we well and truly are. 

so how are they? well, with so many pictures uploaded i would not wish to jettison all i had to say in one paragraph, as easier as that might be for you. overall i have found the shoes closer to acceptable than agreeable. they do just about all asked of them, so not bad, but also not the single greatest pair of shoes what i have ever come to own. 

for some of you it is so that partially provenance and mostly price shall be of some interest. to commence with the least interesting part the provenance is, of course, Sports Direct. it may well be so that some have quarrels with the way that nice Mike Ashley does things, but to be fair his celebrated store is just about the only one where i can walk into an actual shop and find at least one pair of shoes what will fit me. virtually every other purveyor of shoes just tell me that for my size i shall have to order them online. i get that mine is an out of the ordinary size and space for storage is limited, but is it all that bad an idea to keep at least one serviceable pair in a non-standard size? 

coin cost, as is surprisingly clear in the above VHS mode image, was £70. indeed i did wince a bit, and have a little cry. my understanding, though, was that these shoes normally cost well north of £100, as is somewhat clarified by that close enough to £115 price at the bottom right. ultimately, as i shall get to quite soon, i really needed new shoes, and so despite some hesitation elected to make the proprietor of this famous store just that little bit richer. 

not at all sure why they are called air "max". is it that they do an air "standard"? or even a "minimum" variation of these? possibly do, but i did not think to look in the shop. 

often i have been guilty of seeking to get certain things on when cheap despite it being an act of folly to do so. i am sure i am not alone. yes, it's lovely to get things cheap, but in some instances that saying of you get what you pay for is true. when it's a physical comfort thing, like shoes or even something like a mattress, buying silly cheap usually means an inferior product which shall do a job but not be at all beneficial to your wellbeing. no, i mean don't immediately buy the most expensive of everything, just that the default "the cheapest will do" is not always the wisest. 

what, exactly, happened to the previous pair? should you have missed it above, here is the link to my celebration of that pair. frankly they were a disaster. not long after purchase and wearing them they, or at least the left one, commenced making a hideous squeaking noise. also, not that you can really make it out in the above (VHS mode) image, they just soon embraced a look of being all busted. to be honest, the appearance was of them being like i had ritualistically slaughtered a cow (or similar), roughly cut some hide and tried to stitch it together. yes, they were also nike, which i kind of forgot when i went right ahead and bought another pair. 

do you want to know what has happened to that pair? off they go on an adventure. i have diligently placed them in a receptacle which implies they will be "recycled". my understanding of what that involves means one of two paths lay ahead of these shoes. either they will be thrown into some sort of landfill site or incinerator in our country, or we will pay a developing / emerging nation (once they were called third world but that is now deemed prejudicial) an awful lot of money to take them and similar items, and then they will either throw them in an incinerator or more likely dump them in a quiet area of an ocean. wonderful how our enlightened world works.  

easily the most controversial aspect of these shoes is the "gel heel" thing. i believe, but do not know as fact, that this is what makes them "air max". my suspicion is that this is a clever marketing ploy, whereby they sell you around 25% less ("fewer") shoe for more money, making the claim that it is quite class to have that there. no, this scheme is not unique to the shoe industry. think of the music business, for instance, where some record labels will sell you albums by the likes of Ed Sheridan (or whatever) or the former (ex) Mr Kym Kardassian (or whatever) instead of actual, proper music. 

quite problematic, really, this "gel heel" thing. i did not really expect to have to deal with all sorts of administration matters with a new pair of shoes, but here i am. obviously this gel thing isn't marketing, with it giving my performance (so to speak) a real boost. so far i have informed the IOC of my purchase and, as expected, i am no longer allowed to compete in the Olympics due to the significant edge i have. so far them what do the Commonwealth Games have been partially more reasonable. a lot of noise is on the go about how Tyson Fury opted to retire from boxing around the time i got these shoes, but that's a bit unfair. people need to stop calling him a coward, there wasn't much beyond some provisional talks in regards of a potential bout. 

i do indeed have quibbles with these shoes beyond the (not unfair) Olympic ban and being excluded from the chance of getting my f*****g head caved in by the self-styled "gypsy king". for a start they have more white elements than i really considered. annoyingly it's "shiny" white that nike have gone for, rather than a dull or if you will "off sh!t" white. this is distracting as i walk along, especially with my special stride, or strut if you like. the laces are them avant garde, oooh look at me threaded ones, which just easily tether or snap. and no, they are nowhere near as comfortable as sketchers, but the only ones of them they had close to my size were those ridiculous, stupid "slip on" ones. still, already one or two ladies have conversed with me, saying they like the shoes, so there we go. what, exactly, would i have done with a gold medal anyway? 

my simple, earnest hope would be that these shoes last (considerably) longer than the previous pair. which, in practical terms, means that best they be useable for at least four (4) months, and by that i mean no development of a distressed look and very much no annoying squeaky noises. but that said, yes, assuming i make it that far, i would not be surprised to bring news of yet more new shoes later on in this very year. 2025, for clarification. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

now that now have stopped doing now

howdy pop pickers

bit of a peculiar one, this. ultimately, or realistically, i have gone done that thing of spending real coins of money for, mostly, the sake of a blog post, look you see. one may argue it was "only £5", but still. at the time of doing so it felt vaguely interesting, but now i am not so sure. well, you decide, if you read on after me doing a stellar job selling it. 

mostly this relates to the compilation Now That's What I Call Music 18, or if you will Now 18 as it appears to have been most commonly abridged to. it does not feel all that long ago when i got it and did the usual, obligatory post on it. yes, here is the link to it. whilst it wasn't the single greatest compilation of vibes ever to exist it also wasn't that bad, and a surprising reminder that there were indeed some pretty decent songs in the first couple of years of the 90s when memory suggested it was a bit of a wasteland. 

for quite some time - say the last 6 of them, possibly 8 - these Now re-releases on tape (disc) have had a bit of a pointless feel to them. granted the music on them has been occasionally excellent, but they were issued on compact disc at the time. it was great to get the earlier volumes, never put out on disc, and there was some surprise that they just went on and on re-issuing more and more. just for the curiosity of it all, then, i picked up an original issue of Now 18 down the market. 

no less than two (2) major issues have been widely commented on with all these re-releases. the first, and the most disappointing, is that "different versions" (or if you will mixes) have been used. easily the big one here was on Now III, where they used the "standard" 7" mix of Frankie's Two Tribes when the original release had the somewhat different "picture disc" 7". the other issue was that the sets were coming out not as exact Now replicas, for some songs were missing. in one instance it was so that they elected to exclude a not particularly memorable single from Sir Gary Glitter for not unreasonable and somewhat understandable reasons. other than that one it seems tracks got excluded from that pain in the backside of the modern world, "rights and royalties" issues. 

whereas i had not (reasonably) expected to ever play Now 18 again, the lure of getting the original issue of it was obviously irresistible, hence me having something to write of. the re-issued version of 18 excluded (or if you prefer) omitted four (4) from the original release. if you are interested in learning which ones are missing you can play "spot the difference" with the image below, or scroll down a bit more and i shall list them for you.

so, to confirm the difference you spotted, or just to tell you, the missing songs are - 

The Joker off of Steve Miller Band (think it was used in a Levi's jeans ad)

Something Happened On The Way To Heaven off of Phil Collins

Suicide Blonde off of INXS

Fascinating Rhythm off of Bass-O-Matic (no, me neither)

i really have no clue how, exactly, all that rights and permission stuff works, but the omitted tracks are quite strange when compared to what remains. again, no expert, but i would have thought securing the use of songs by the likes of Elton John, Pet Shop Boys, Sting and The Cure (plus others) would be as problematic (and by that i mean costly) as the ones missed off. also i would have assumed that including Nothing Compares 2 U would have been a battle, for a Sinead O'Connor recording of a Prince song doesn't particularly sound cheap to licence. 

a trademark, hallmark or signature move of the Now re-releases and "issued on CD for the first time" experience has been the "cheap and cheerful" nature. up above is that illustrated for you. the booklets with the "new" ones are just one folded thing, with the text below the artist images being so small you can't really read them. for the original issues, as you can hopefully make out, the wisely and kindly went and made proper booklets, so you may read provenance and chart history of the songs.

how does the sound quality differ between the two version of Now 18. to be honest i have a quite decent Sony "ghettoblaster" which does the job but isn't in the hundreds or thousands of pounds area of music equipment you need to tell that much of a difference. also no, i would not know how to do an "analysis" of the discs on a computer. others have claimed that the re-issues have effectively been little better than putting some mp3s on a CD-R, but i don't know. both sound decent. 

if they have indeed cancelled all future re-releases (i believe so but don't have it confirmed as fact) why now? not sure. there were "logical" points at which to stop, being the point at which they reached never before on CD, or when they reached volume 10 (ten), or when they arrived at the end of the 80s. a speculative guess would be the latter is of some relevance, likely that sales dropped off significantly with the last few, as i suspect there's nowhere near the viable size market for nostalgia for the early 90s as exists for pretty much all of the 80s. 

should it really be so and the Now re-issues have ceased, well, that's me not feeling obliged to purchase them any further. they weren't badly priced at around £8 a go, to be fair. also my all time favourite one of the series, Now That's What I Call Music 4, somehow got released more or less exactly as it was the first time around. oh, they are continuing to release variations on compilations, with some new collections being called Now That's What I Call and then whatever the link or year is. every now and then i pick these up, depending on the track list. 

overall, if this really is it for the re-issues, it's been a really fun journey. not just a nostalgia thing, but rather (if there is a difference) a wonderful memory jog, with some stuff being surprisingly better than i would have recalled. unless i am just a bit more mellow in my three quarters life crisis. 

be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

koala endorsement

g'day

i would, truth be told, suspect that it is no bold action on my behalf to suggest that few, if any, of you are even in the slightest interested in what goes on in my bathroom. doubtful there is much concern either, look you see. rather unfortunate, then, that the only thing i have to write of momentarily pertains to the purchase of an item which (conventionally, at the least) is used in the bathroom.

for context, as some of you are (vaguely) aware my verk adventures are of a nature which see me spend quite little time at home, my lodgings in this era of exile. i would not care to speculate on exact numbers, except i shall. at a guess well north of one half of a calendar year sees me away. it may well be closer to two thirds, or if you like 66%. the relevance of this is that i don't usually need or require all that much in the way of "the basics" at home. for example i have just bought a "mega xl" pack of them washing pods which (for some reason) American kids got all excited about eating a couple of years ago. such a pack would likely last a usual household 3 or so months, but for me i would reasonably expect that the number of pods in the pack (north of 50) shall last the year. 

normally i have a reasonably good sense of when i need to stock up on things such as, for example and also specific here, toilet paper. just before the most recent Christmas (2024) it turned out i had oddly miscalculated how much i had. despite not running out (fairly close but still) i made a solemn pledge, or if you will vow, to ensure such was avoided again. which has led to a change in direction. 

yes, i have indeed changed brands. well, no, you would not be aware of what my "usual" brand was, and as per the above i genuinely suspect you are not at all interested. for clarity, though, normally i would have purchased the celebrated Andrex brand. this was not from any particular preference, or any sense of loyalty to the brand. in the days when she was with us and i went to do some shopping Gran had a preference for a particular type of Andrex, and i kind of just always bought the same for myself, since it seemed all right. 

with my penchant for all (legal) things koala, actually i suppose in retrospect (rather than some tales of future legend) it is a surprise it has taken me so long to switch to Cushelle. much like how Iman, EMI and the Bowie Estate have clocked writing "Bowie" on something (anything) is a pretty good way to extract money from me, from a branding perspective putting a picture of a koala on something is quite a good way to get me to buy it. 

there was no general dissatisfaction or argument with Andrex, by the way. just a simple, straightforward economic argument for changing brand. a certain supermarket (it starts and ends with l) gave a generous discount on the Cushelle ones, and then gave an even more generous discount on my shopping entire. in actual and real terms (or possibly either/or) i think the net (or gross) cost (or spend) for me to have a go at some Cushelle toilet paper was south of £2. for that money i got a lot. 

absolutely not is the answer to any question you may have in regards to (or in respect of) exactly how long i believe it shall take me (and the quite rare visitor) to get through 24 rolls of koala endorsed Cushelle toilet paper. for a more general, quasi thumb suck guess, i would be somewhat surprised if i needed to purchase more at any point of the first half of this year (2025). it might be that in the time between the Glastonbury corporate weekend and the Oasis shenanigans i will note a depletion of my stock, but that would (i suspect) be dependent on how much time i am actually at home before then and, well, exactly how much of it i propose to use. 

switching (and this is a rare if not serious then not intended to be humorous observation, yes i know i am rarely funny) brands is a decidedly risky move when it comes to personal, or if we are honest intimate, intended use items. we are creatures always seeking comfort, and that is no criticism. one generally sticks with a brand because they know it and are comfortable with it. outside of companies ceasing to make stuff (i refer you to my Dad and his beloved love bead toothpaste, search away) it would be usual only for people to switch such brands for economic reasons. to evidence that, well, look at my plight with illicit (ahem, sorry, independently imported and distributed) cigarettes. gone is the financial ability to enjoy Marlboro Red all day every day, here is an era of goodness knows what i am smoking on the cheap but it gets the job done. 

once more i state that i would take as a given no one shall have much interest (if any) in this, but then again if you have read all the way to this point my thanks for doing so. as of yet no, i have not actually tried this new toilet paper (i was not so close to running out as i thought), and also no, i shall not be sharing any sort of performance review here. sorry for that. 

be fair dinkum to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!