polarity postcard puzzle, probably

g'day

quite an interesting dynamic of a dilemma emerged in my day to day life recently. and by quite an interesting one, i urge you to consider this entirely contextually, observing it as such as a moment of some excitement in my otherwise dull, here for reasons unclear life, look you see. 

the overwhelming majority of post i receive at, or is rather better described as being delivered to, my remaining relatively new place of residence is addressed to people who previously lived at these lodgings. a degree larger than you may think of my social circle involves marking them as return to sender and placing them back in a mailbox. whereas i do not open them, for such would be rude and if it isn't then it should be illegal, the return address details are often telling. let me respect privacy to an extent, but also say good luck with that one, American Express. 

it is not entirely unexpected that i get little post addressed to moi. oh but a few alone have my address, and not many, if any, have requested it. apparently a substantial number with my address do not hold an inclination to expend energy posting me anything, or are otherwise bereft of what to send. so it was indeed quite wonderful to get something (fairly) recently. 

my postcard collection in my new (for this is what it is) home has now reached a kind of round number of three, in more or less, ipso facto, kind of as many months. the top two are by the grace of Steve of Scotland. it is the stunning view of Queenstown (New Zealand variant) which is the most recent addition, courtesy of my sister. 

something of a challenge was presented by this arrival. under the English way of doing things, one is legally compelled, or otherwise obliged, to place all postcards received on display on their fridge, and they are to be held there with interesting magnets. i was kind of out of magnets, what with James making a "J" out of the ones i got free with The Viz and the Jim'll Fix It one already being in use then. 

due to me having far more printable magnetic sheets than i could ever possibly need or even wish for, i made a pledge, or resolution of sorts, to address the matter. as you can sort of (kind of) see, if you are interested, i simply made a few out of images of some of my favourite things. yes, quite a few are of relation or relevance to David Bowie, but i made them of other things too, like film posters. 

as, or since, we are in the realm of stuff of New Zealand, my sister also sent this picture on. when i say this picture, i do of course mean the one above. via email, and not post, for sending a "hard" copy of this (above) image in the mail would (likely) constitute a violation of the obscene publications act, or something like that. 

we are indeed, more or less, soon and fast (at time of publication) reaching the pivotal moment of the year during which Grant enthusiasts are at their most enthusiastic concerning celebrating him. it is a delight, via my sister who gave full (kind of) blessing for me to place this here, to enable or in any way assist such with this. 

more postal and(or) magnet activities, issues and what have you will follow, of course, in the unlikely circumstances in which they fall once more into my world. 

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

dandelion

hi 

recently, as in the past rather than some unwritten future, i had reason to pause. it was one of them things when the inexplicable, or unknown, look you see, makes one stop and turn to glance in a specific way. and free of hesitation or reluctance, i bowed to the impulse. from this i noticed a whole wide range of dandelions. both variations, of course, but i suspect many shall know the particular one to appeal. 

there i was, just off wandering to conduct some task or other (possibly menial or mundane, likely shopping related), oblivious to the background. a look, or cursory glance, saw me see many, many dandelions, both of yellow(ish) flower and the white seed distribution ones. 

at the great risk of the momentary melancholy of sentimental hygiene, of course memories came back. days which stretched for hours of sunlight spent seeking the thrill of finding the seed bearing dandelions, plucking them from the ground and then blowing on them, watching the seeds dance into the sky and then fall down back to the earth. 

perhaps this was something i had only done fleetingly, once or twice, maybe. but yet it feels like more. just one of them strange things where we, as people, associate a moment with a much longer duration, or if you will passing, of time. 

well, no, anyway, can't think of anything else to write. not the greatest of pictures, true, but still. 

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

41 in 75

howdy pop pickers

back once more, then, as opposed to forward, look you see. just a glance at a time when the singles chart, at least the UK version, actually meant something and mattered, and when music was both art and commercially viable. let me not try to moan (and whine) too much of the general sorry state of both in this brave new world. 

so, a look (or glance) at the singles chart from this day (of publication, 25 May) in 1975. up at the top, or if you will business end, it was Tammy Wynette with Stand By Your Man at number one, hold off a rather or somewhat improbable challenge for top spot by Windsor Davies and Don Estelle. quite a bit of "s" related music in the remainder of the top ten, with Slade, Status Quo, The Stylistics and Showaddywaddy making an appearance. 

on the outskirts of the all important (as in this was what was broadcast) top forty, specifically at forty one, there was the first chart appearance for I'm Not In Love by 10cc. this was the third (3rd) highest new entry for that week, with new releases Listen To What The Man Said off of Wings and The Hustle off of Van McCoy attracting just a few more early adopter purchases. 

a fair, i think, and hopefully accepted as respectful observation to pass is that few, if any, immediately think of themselves as being huge or all that big fans of the band 10cc. yet then one may pause for some degree of thought, giving consideration to this song, as well as stuff like Dreadlock Holiday, Rubber Bullets, The Things We Do For Love and several others, and go "oh, yeah. actually they were bloody good. them". 

rather difficult, i think, to categorise them, the band. on a "most" or closest like for like basis, i suppose one would say they fall into that Queen or Pink Floyd bracket of creating quite remarkably innovative, exploratory music which yet instills a sense of the anthemic and iconic. but yet the band would appear not to have quite been held to the same high icon standard in themselves, certainly not to the extent that the two other bands i mentioned. 

quite the "slow burn", then, if i have my understanding of that term correct. certainly not a "sleeper" hit, for that would be one which amasses lots of money (and/or success) quietly, when of course it was not long for all and sundry to pay attention to this particular tune. it did indeed get to number one, very much so. not sure that saying it "sold by the bucketload" is correct, for i have never actually seen anyone go and buy records and carry them away in a bucket, but there you go. 

no, i'm not going to disgrace myself by trying to write of the fascinating story of how this particular single was created. a whole range of essays, books and documentaries have already been produced on that subject, covering all aspects from the soundscape to the secretary. obviously my first instinct is to advise listening to the song (presumably again, for many of you), but after that do read up on, or watch with interest any of the things produced about how this song was, erm, produced. 

yes, the one off of Windsor Davies and Don Estelle (something about grass or whispers or both) also made it to number one. which kind of stops it being spoken of in the way that Vienna off of Ultravox, or even Wonderwall off of Oasis, is/are spoken of, as in great songs that only got as high as two in the chart. sure, there are other reasons it is not spoken of in the same way. 

with regards to 10cc, and here is absolutely not the place to discuss the background or provenance of their name, this song and me (moi), full well do i remember where i heard it for the first time. it was on a bus on a school trip, probably to or from the swimming baths, or as part of some school trip of some educational value somewhere. the bus driver had a provincial radio station on, and for reasons never made clear the DJ (or whatever) kept making announcements that he was going to play this song, some ten or eleven (or more or less) years after it was in the charts. when it got around to the time to play it, he gave it a long, laborious introduction, too. can't say i was all that impressed on my first hearing of it, least of all after the build up, but it has grown on me over the years. 

further, or also, two of them in the band (Godley and Creme) went on to do a stack of stuff, with making the video for Two Tribes off of Frankie Goes To Hollywood just one of the things, but the one that i hold fondest. 

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

my magpie eyes are hungry for the prize

hello there

there is a school of thought, look you see, that i should simply not go off to the shops without either a firm list or an astute, resolute ambition to purchase only what appears on that list. i have, and let this be my confession. a bit of a compulsive buy thing. especially, or in particular, with respect to shiny things. 

whilst i have no tangible lack of gadget things, and certainly no particular need for further, when it is so that a light reflects off of such in a shop, making them all glimmer and glitter and sparkle, i feel obliged to express an interest. on a recent excursion, this happened. after some consideration (i wandered, meandered and generally strolled some aisles in the shop as i pondered the matter), of course i ended up purchasing that which attracted my eye. 

indeed, (yet) another of them hand held game things. this one is all branded with that Spider Man thing, and also features several (ten, it says on the box) games based on this character. fictitious, as he may very well be. 

yes and no, really, on whether i am a "fan", or all that arsed, about Spider Man. he is excellent, you have to say, for defeating criminals what require someone with spider abilities to defeat them, and how convenient that such nearly impossible to overcome criminals operate so close to where the one person what could knack them hangs out. also, Spider-Man 2 was excellent as it had Alfred Molina in it. and them other ones they did, with that guy, what had Denis Leary in them. 

so, the ten (10) Spider-Man games offered by this device, for £15 by the way, were of partial appeal. however, it was more the promise of 140 "classic" games that drew me in. included within this number is, as usual for such handheld devices, an awful lot of repeat games. but, also, Tetris style rip-off games, and that one called (i think) ball blaster or something, where you have to fire balls and match up colours to get rid of them. a strangely compelling game, what i enjoy. 

features? well, the "A" button seems seldom ever to get used on games. the lavish sound options include mute, medium, full and that's it. but the sound is rather smart. also, makes nice noises when you switch on or off. 

overall, no real regrets purchasing it, for i knew full well it would get limited use. either my hands are too big, or the device is too small. it is all a bit fiddly and uncomfortable for me to play for too long, lest i risk some sort of repetitive strain thing, carpal tunnel syndrome or something. to have it to switch on once in a while, or to observe it gathering dust, satisfies the investment.

my options other than a Spiderman one were a Cars one and a Frozen one, so you can see how i ended up with this one. the latter i have not seen, the former was one of the single most boring, far too long Disney films i have ever seen, but the second one was all right. 

right, let me go fiddle about with it some more, then. or do something else. read, perhaps.

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

a series of socks, sneakers fall apart

howdy sock pickers

no, look you see, that title is not a typo. but yes, to be sure, it is a clever lost consonant thing what i have done for here, and surely it will be so that i will rupture tendons (or what have you) in at least one arm patting myself on the back for it. 

this post, or article (or musings, even) seeks to perpetuate that thing i do where i appear to write of some matter or other concerning Bowie at least once a month. here, though, it is simply not so that the focus shall be on the thing what ostensibly he is most famous for, the music. instead, or rather, we go into the world of quality footwear, or if you will elegant garments. 

it came to pass that, as would be standard, earlier this day the date of my birthday came, was met with some merriment, celebration and splendid gifts, and promptly went. the sands of time, etc. fortune and favour smiled upon me, for i was presented with some quite remarkable gifts for this instance, or if you will chapter. so far, and to my shame, i have not showcased much of any of these, for i have been busy adapting to a slender life of unchosen solitude. but, here we are now. 

one exceptionally dear friend, who can either remain anonymous or be known as Faye, depending on your preference, went to a formidable level of trouble and effort to get me something what was Bowie related, but yet she had every reason to suspect i did not ever have or own. which is how i came to be a custodian of the latest lavish item what the Bowie Estate have elected to licence or endorse, the most righteous and bespoke selection of Bowie Happy Socks. 

why is it that i only report on such now, so very long (it may seem) since the instance or occasion of my birthday what got celebrated? partially it was due to me moving off, on or out not too long after that date, in some respects it was down to me not really being able to wear them for verk, but mostly it was all due to them being so beautiful and lovely in the box that i had no wish to disturb them, or defile them by placing them on my most assuredly unworthy feet.

my friend remonstrated this point with me. i would not say she (Faye) got quite cross as such, but did say that she would knack us if i did not get to putting them on, doing a bit of strutting around in them and what have you. so yes, eventually (or finally, if you are one of a select few that have known of these socks and have been waiting for this), i got around to wearing some. nearly all. but of course not at once. 

but, of course, prior to the beautiful folds of them, and their splendid, elegant storage for that matter, getting all disrupted, i took some images of the socks in the really, really smart box. yes, i do appreciate that there are no doubt better images, pro shot ones, of these socks in on or around the internet, but it is so that these ones are mine. 

strictly speaking, no, i would not have  thought to purchase these for myself. that would mostly be due to me having no knowledge of them existing prior to getting them as a gift. also, no, it is not so that i would as a standard wear socks of such colour. usually, normally, i just get black socks, or if you like socks that are black. quite a step in a new direction, then, all of this is for me. 

rather than me become some sort of random bizarre foot pornographer, showing you individual images of my feet in select pairs of these socks, i have created a sort of collage thing. that is below these very words, and there is every chance you scrolled and saw them anyway. 

truly, the provide a splendid, eloquent fit, providing formidable comfort and making me feel considerably special. which is, i believe, the entire purpose of the gift of said truly wonderful friend. beyond a very dapper and ludicrously expensive pair of socks what Spiros got for me and made me wear (quite) a few years ago (reasons undisclosed), these are without doubt the finest garments ever to have touched my feet. 

in that collage thing you can see, along with some new shoes what i got, a slight issue, problem or drawback with me wearing these socks. that would be how, presently, i am really unable to showcase or simply show off that i am wearing them, due to the length of the leg on my trousers. this is most unfortunate. i believe an at least partial intention of the gift was that my dear friend is one of the few who knows me rather well, believes that i am worthwhile, despite the views of some (one in particular, but oh), and there will be someone that can see that. an ambition was for the socks to provide a conversation piece, or ice breaker, but that is complex if one cannot see them. 

summer is, in theory, due to dawn upon us soon. or commence. maybe i shall invest in some new shorts to wander around in, as this will allow for sock showcasing. whereas i do presently own a pair of this garment (shorts), from what i recall the arse is ripped out of them. my thinking would be to get some new ones, undamaged, so that the socks can freely be a focal point, and not my arse hanging out of some torn shorts. 

do i have a favourite pair of these socks, thus far? well, not really. i mean, they all have Bowie written on them, and they are really, really, really (really) comfortable. were it so that in circumstances i could not possibly begin to comprehend that someone forced me to select, then i dare say the yellow ones, with the Aladdin Sane lightning bolt. close, very close, second would be the blue with same lightning bolt on the go. but, in truth, all of them. 

with the socks out of the box, so to speak, i am pretty sure (or am quietly confident) that i will, or i shall, put the magnificence of this box, in particular the picture pop up David fashion show, on display somewhere or other. maybe, for i have seen new close neighbours do so, i might place it in the window, for passers by to observe, admire and know that the resident within truly worships at the altar of Bowie. 

that picture above is not meant to show any discernible or particular sequential order, it is just how i placed them after removing from the box. for some reason i thought some may wish to see them all unfolded, or stretched out. 

my deepest and sincere thanks to my friend, then, for such a wonderful, thoughtful and in these troubling times touching gift. if they do indeed serve as some sort of magnet to draw someone to the attention of me being worthwhile and worth knowing, great, but satisfaction resides in abundance from me just wearing them, in truth. 

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

trolley time again

heya

many would be the most accurate number (or measurement) one could place on the things that i get confused or generally unsure about, look you see. but, for where we are right now in terms of this post, it is easy to say that how one correctly words (or spells) the plural (as in more than one) of trolley, in the shopping trolley context, which baffles me the most. 

instinct, or some other form of inspiration which descends, tells me that the correct and proper spelling for such is trollies. and yet when i do that i get one of them red line things under the word, giving every suggestion that it is not the right way to spell it. conversely, or instead, no such line appears under the word when i spell it as trolleys, but that just looks all wrong.

a reasonable, plausible solution to this is to, of course, only from now on ever speak of such things in the singular form. not having to worry of how to spell things would be a welcome relief at the moment, yet i am reluctant to refuse to picture scenes where more than one trolley exists. so, in many respects this may well be viewed as a "test" thing, for it was just the one trolley i saw. 

just the one trolley i spotted, then, recently, and of course presented above in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. the aesthetics kind of appealed, in so much a the stark juxtaposition of the trolley to them steel gate things. it would seem the new owner of this trolley has parked it up with reasonable concern for passers by. 

to be honest, it is highly probable that chances or opportunities to see more than one trolley out and about shall diminish from here on out. with or economy now more or less (ahem) up and running like it kind of once was, anyone who gets their hands on a trolley shall be off down to the nearest scrap yard to cash in. and why not. 

right, well, that's that then. on the off chance i do see a trolley (or two) around, of course i shall get an image or two and share here. what else would i do with my time. 

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

another train adventure

hello there

actually, "adventure" may well prove to be a bit dramatic. of late i have made any number of train journeys. several, look you see. mostly, if not in each instance, they have been conventional things, lacking any sense of danger or, well, adventure. but here we are, and a catchy headline is always a good thing. except, i suppose, when it is a trifle misleading. i was on a train, though.

should it be so that adventure is not the right word as such, then perhaps gamble is. many of you shall be aware that, due to the vagaries of it all, British trains are highly prone to being cancelled when not just late. this is all down to "unexpected" weather conditions affecting services. and, in terms of the British train and railway (for they are two different thing), "unexpected" tends to translate very much as being "any". we have well documented instances of trains being cancelled because of the weather being too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too windy, too calm and so on. 

with optimal (and unspecified, as in secret) weather conditions being an absolute must for any British train service to run kind of like it is suggested it will, i was somewhat concerned about the journey i had planned in this particular instance. it was in April (the one just gone), and we, as a nation, had been blessed with a moment of not unique but certainly unusual snow. 

fear and terror strikes the heart, the mind and indeed the very soul of any person wishing to use a train within Britain when they see snow. to you and i a train might seem rather robust and strong, made as it is of several dozens of tonnes of steel and other such metal, giving the appearance that it would ride through or over anything, smashing the absolute f*** out of anything what it twatted. apparently this is not so. most trains are, it turns out, as fragile as a modern day footballer, and if they are exposed to a brief moment of snow, they might trip and slip, smashing into one hundred million billion pieces. for this reason, many train operators cancel all trains if they just for a moment even think it could possibly snow, or rain, or be sunny, so as to be safe. 

but, and this i would say is happily more than it is strangely, it was so that the snow did not stop any train operations on this particular day. well, none of the services which i availed myself of, at the least. it is entirely possible that this is due to some form of legacy (or hangover) from the last year (and a bit), during which the train operators have been handed their greatest ambition. as everyone, more or less, was instructed to stay home, the train people could run the trains without the burden of the thing which they hate the most, which of course is them, us, passengers. 

one could, i suppose, lament the fact that we shouldn't "really" get snow during April, that this is all a sign of Greta and the dolphins losing the war for our planet to, well, everyone who is presently knacking it, which i think is pretty much all of us. but then also, yes, maybe it is not all that so peculiar to get snow at this time. the fact is there was some snow. 

the main, maybe only, think going through my mind as i saw the scene pictured above was what a really great and tremendous act of folly i had undertaken with my shoe selection that day. not that i have all that many pairs (for i still have two feet, momentarily) to choose from. inexplicably, despite knowing snow would grace my visit, for shoes i selected them trainers what i recently got new laces for, the ones where the tread (or grip or whatever) has all but gone. 

rather than rush to discuss, or explore, how that shoe decision went, here you go, a bit of video. 

sorry, or apologies, if they are required, for the ambient noises in the above video. if there are any, and if it is so that you played the video with sound on. an actual, real life moving train is not quite the optimal place for doing filming and that. 

moving on, and the shoe thing, then. as it turned out, or as it happens, snow in April, and the undercurrent of icy stuff, is just as slippery as that from any other time of the year. somehow i managed to keep my balance, despite constantly feeling a sense of slide and slip. after the fifth instance of feeling none foot slip forward i stopped counting. no, alas, and i know this will be a disappointment to some, i did not make any complete fall. 

yes, we are indeed still required to wear them face mask things. at the least at time of writing it was so. not sure why, exactly, one must wear one on a desolate, lonely, outside train platform, the location of which is one not many stand upon, but the fine imposed for not doing so appears a trifle hefty. 

despite the fact that i appear to be making use of the trains on a frequent basis (unless they get all petty and ban me for comments made here, which strikes me as paranoid), no, i have no immediate plans to write or publish pics and observations of the majority of such trips. maybe i will if something seems interesting, of course. and my threshold for interesting seems to get forever lower. 

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

making do

hi

a little while ago i lamented something of a parting of the ways between myself (moi) and my most beloved washing machine (here's one of them link things, look you see). it was a good, strong relationship, alas no more. 

my new lodgings, or quarters should you for some reason prefer that term, already feature(d) a washing machine, and it made most practical, reasonable sense to leave my most beloved machine where it was, so as it may continue to deliver service to those who need it. on a general, practical and indeed surface level, one would feel obliged to define this all as a satisfactory arrangement. but not a matter which makes my heart have any sense of joy about.

oh, yes, i do very much appreciate much of this could be derided as a "first world problem", or some similar loose definition, casually dropped as to be dismissive and demeaning. but yet here we are, you reading this of your own free choice. 

there exists no fault, flaw or folly in this "new" washing machine, the ways of which i now must get used to. it just lacks any sort of pizzazz, charisma, appeal and charm. functional and perfectly serviceable are the ways to define it; for it gets the job done with no fuss and certainly nothing extra to enhance the experience. 

but, still. it doesn't do any happy songs, it has a limited range of options for different wash cycles, and just does machine computer blip noises. on the plus side it is really quiet and partially efficient, but then it would be, i suppose, as it has a really small, limited load capacity. also, it does some lovely bubbles, which sadly no i have not managed to capture in image here. 

what i do have, mind, is some animated GIF stuff. alas, i appear to have filmed it the wrong way around, but no i could not be bothered to redo it. 

functional, does what it needs to do with no fanfare or appreciation, and exists purely because, well, why not. yes, indeed in many respects this is all a metaphor (or what have you) for what has become of me and my life, really. except the washing machine wastes the time of no one writing of such things. 

and, as it happens, it has just momentarily finished washing (to an acceptable level) some garments, so best i attend to that, getting the presumably clean(er) clothes prepared to dry. 

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

quite an exciting fire

hey

one of those things i write (and provide visual reference for) of what i see as i am out and about in the world. except, perhaps, this one is a bit, or a trifle, more exciting that the usual abandoned solitary shoe, or shopping trolley, look you see. in this instance, as the title gives every indication of, it just so happened that it was a massive, significant fire what i observed. 

this was all some time in the past, rather than being of some future, unspecified instance yet to happen. for context, or provenance, it was so that i was wandering in the direction of some local retailers (shops) so as to acquire (purchase) items needed (or just wished for) in my place of sole domicile. so, no, it was not that i specifically sought something of interest to observe. or, of course, write of here. 

a truth would be that i did not notice this fire, as large as it was, as i wandered. only upon hearing quite the commotion did i look up and look around, going "oh" as i saw it. everything of the incident screamed immediate and fast, so alas i did not have the time available to record it all in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. but, every now and then, just regular images shall surely suffice. 

yes, that is a glimpse of a fire truck (or whatever the correct term is for such), rushing away to the scene of the fire. presumably the intent, or wish, was for those who formed the crew of this fire fighting vehicle to extinguish the flames prior to even more damage being done that what had already happened when whatever it was sparked into flame. or, something like that. i would agree that there was perhaps a less convoluted way to word that, but i have failed to consider it. 

for those interested, the above image is a "screen grab" off of a video i made of the moment. indeed, the video is below. my instinct is to warn you that the video below, from whence the image above came, is rather loud. very loud, as point of fact, for the fire brigade do not p!ss about when alerting those surrounding them that they wish to pass. but, also, i suppose the loudness is entirely dependant on, or related to, what volume setting you have on whatever device you elect to play this on. if, or should, you decide to play it. go on, it is only ten or so seconds. 

should that be proven (or turned out) to be rather too loud, well, in one instance sorry. but, also, or more, there were quite clear warnings, i think you will find. ultimately a rather dramatic scene, i trust you shall be inclined to at least in part agree, and not really the sort of thing one expects to see when taking a stroll to buy milk, bread and assorted other provisions. now that i think on, though, possibly not bread. i appear to purchase it and seldom use it, despite having several jam things available to me. 

if this were in any way, shape or form (on a frequent basis) a place for serious, proper discourse then one would imagine me to write something profound about how some in this world will rush to the fire whilst others shall run from it. let me leave it to others, for the most part, who can write of such in a far more eloquent and respectful way. but indeed i am thankful for the courage and respect the bravery of those who rush to risk their lives for others. 

just what, exactly (or precisely) was on fire? that is a good question, for i have obtained several conflicting reports. although, in fairness, all of them relate to it being some industrial concern or other. so far as i am aware it was as casualty free as can be, for no life was lost in either the fire itself or the valiant, victorious fight against it. the how, who, what, where and that of it has not been made clear, so far as i am aware. perhaps it has been dismissed as "just one of them things". 

right, i did have something in mind to write here, but i appear to have gotten somewhat distracted and cannot recall what it was. little can be as frustrating as this. oh well, sure, some more video instead. 

nothing good, i expect, is within that smoke bellowing into the atmosphere. i am no Greta, but i would imagine (or presume) that the harmful things which form that smoke seem like a shrill scream now, yet shall echo through the remainder of human existence. or, you know, whatever them people what are gluing themselves to trains are warning will happen, just before they get pulled down off said trains and get their heads kicked in. 

little occurs to me to write in addition here, especially as i cannot (still) recall what i was going to put in that one section where i confessed to forgetting. oh, well, this shall simply have to do. 

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

vaccination one

hello there

so, a little while ago (as in recently, look you see), i mentioned that i was off to gone done get my first vaccination jab. it strikes me as improbable, in the world where this shall be read (if it is, at all) that i would need to clarify what vaccination, but for the sake of completeness, yes, the coronavirus or covid or any other such name for it; the new plague under which we fight an invisible war. 

my experience of having it was, seemingly, surprisingly and splendidly good. despite expectations via the warnings concerning potential side affects (effects?) of it, nothing really happened. it was so that the arm, or rather the area of it, which i had the injection in (left appears to be the default) felt someone fragile and tender for a few days, but this was all. sure, yes, every chance exists that some of the side effects (affects?) might visit on me getting the second dose, but still, from what i can tell all worth it. 

i understand "which one" is a question many shall ask, of curiosity (and interest) with respect to which of the variations of vaccine i had. no, i do not mind sharing or declaring, it was the Oxford Astra Zeneca version, if i have the name (and spelling) correct. of course i asked the nurse if that was the one what the French were oh so scared of. the answer was yes, and comments were passed about what ungrateful swines they were, seeing at that was the one being done at cost for the betterment of the world. 

that's me sat in vaccination detention. going curiously non non-linear, such are the concerns and dedication to well being, due to some people (not just the French, but still) expressing worries over this vaccination, all what had it (at least at my session) were requested to wait in a big massive hall for fifteen minutes. a time we were trusted to measure and act upon ourselves, and of course i complied. presumably this was to ensure no immediate unfortunate side effects (affects) kicked in. quite lovely, really, and i had a splendid chat with one of the marshals, volunteers or wardens about Mr Sinatra, until someone suggested there really wasn't supposed to be too much conversation in the detention hall.

no, with no grand or slight level of knowledge or expertise in much of anything, least of all this subject, it is so very, very far away from my place to wade in on the occasionally sensitive subject of those who have no wish to have the vaccination. all i am comfortable (and confident) with doing is sharing my own experience, and suggesting that all news reports and what have you appear to give every indication that this vaccination drive is doing the trick in winning the war. 

just to pad things out a trifle here, go on then, a selfie of me as reflected in my new mirror. yes, of course, in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. 

when i took up residency in my new lodgings (recently), i was aware of there being no mirror in the bathroom, to give a nod to a song what is smart. this was something i undertook to get around to doing. and yet it was before i did such that i attempted to shave sans mirror, reckoning or figuring that it would be easy enough to do with just using the camera welded on to the phone. after that was when i decided no, let me get a mirror. 

of course i dilly-dallied and procrastinated on the subject. but then i mentioned my plight, my wrestling with the subject, to Big Baz at verk. to this Big Bag used the f word (f***) a great deal, advising me to stop f*****g about and to get a f*****g mirror sorted. he pretty much marched me in to a shop and had me purchase one, which was worked out well. that one does not hear tales or stories from those who elected not to do as Big Baz instructed tells you all you could wish of the fate of those what do not comply with his sage advice.

presumably, and from what i recall of the conversation, it shall not at all be too long after this particular chunk of writing is published dans le internet when i shall be presented with an invitation to have the second vaccination jab. may fortune smile on such, to the extent that i may be able to write of the experience of that one here too. 

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

butter world revisited

g'day

it seldom ceases to be a surprise, look you see, when one particular thing i do here (or another) takes off, so to speak, and proves more popular than i had anticipated. also, when same happens, but it turns out to be more of a point of departure for discourse, controversy even. such seems to have happened with my fairly, or relatively, recent comments on the subject of butter. 

well, "spreadable" butter. yes, i know, some people out there get quite cross at those of us who rather innocently buy this in tubs and keep it in the fridge. there are some who believe the only thing you can call butter is them rock hard blocks that you don't usually put in the fridge. presumably these are the same types who determine that The Beatles as we know them were not the "proper" band, as Stuart Sutcliffe (and at a push Pete Best) were absent from the more famous recordings. oddly it is difficult to argue with them if they say the same kind of thing about the Ronnie Wood period of the Stones, but moving on. 

my sister, as it happens, read my earlier (as opposed to future) post on butter with a degree of great interest. for those of you who would wish to do similar, well, here you go, a link to follow. anyway, as it happens, she got a trifle picky, or little bit arsey, with me over one (personal) observation. 

despite having no will, wish, brazen desire or ambition to do so, it seems that i managed to upset, or such as the word so frequently used these days "offend", all of New Zealand with my comments. no, not quite the first time such has happened. it would be nice if it were the final such instance, but i cannot do much about how people manage their emotional responses to my whims. 

anyway, what caused the fuss (or quarrel) was my description, or rather dismissal, of anchor butter, yes in a tub, as being a bit rubbish. quite sh!t, actually, was i think my precise feeling. i got told off, a little bit, for this declaration by my sister, as apparently anchor is a New Zealand product, or brand, or what have you. one is not to speak ill of anything of Kiwi provenance, i have been instructed. which is fine, i guess, but i still think it is sh!t and i am not buying any more of it. 

to address what butter (or whatever you wish to call it) i am most decidedly purchasing, well, a decision has well and truly been made. and here, in the greater glory and good of Commodore 64 mode, it is. 

yes, that West Country one, in the sleek, black stylish tub, infused as it is with the mythical magical powers of Cornish sea salt. because no salt from no other sea will do, unless i can get some Aegean one. 

for those curious, indeed that is an in situ (if that means in place) image of my fridge, where i have no less and no more than three (3) tubs of it. as far as i can tell quite a few other people have discover the charms and whims of it, so it sells out quite quickly. so as to best address this, the guilt for panic or bulk buying is then all mine. 

just in case anyone was (for some reason) interested, the other pictures featured here, the ones not in Commodore 64 mode, were sent by my sister off of New Zealand. this was an unexpected yet delightful and lovely thing for her to do, as it showcases just how serious about, and dedicated to, butter the people over there would appear to be. 

blimey, that really is loads and loads of butter. i can only imagine, or presume, that for them who are all rather excited and bothered about butter, New Zealand is a most agreeable tourist destination. whereas i could not see myself travelling any distance further than the nearest shop to me to have a look at some butter, well, celebrated and blessed be those that will travel across oceans (and several time zones), at great expense, to look at and possibly taste butter in different, exotic lands. 

i risk the temptation of fate in saying this, but i really do not believe, going forward (not back, can't go that way, i am informed) there shall be much else i can say, offer or add in regards of the exciting subject of butter. yet, well, you never know. 

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

of urinal torment

hi

please, be under no illusion or false impression. i am quite aware, look you see, that the subject here is not one which generally features in polite, day to day conversation. this is really not something which i particularly wish to give all that much consideration to, bar the commonly accepted practicality of requirement of such things. but, Spiros gets upset if i don't include something here for him from time to time, and so here is where we are. 

many would be the number of forgotten (overlooked, is better, maybe) casualties or closures brought about by the invisible war on the new plague. as various ringleaders conspired to cease all usual, standard or normal actions and activities to try and prevent this corona or covid thing spreading, not all was thought through the full distance. whilst i would imagine you have worked this out, one such of these many is very much public restroom facilities for the gentry.

initially, a decision was made that all public restroom facilities for the gentry (or "bogs", if you prefer less wordy names) were to be closed, as this would more or less immediately win the war against this plague. regrettably, it did not. also, gentlemen had to seek other places to do whatever it is they would as standard do in such restrooms, and things got a trifle messy, not to mention in one or two instances uncomfortably embarrassing. 

to this end, a partially right decision was swiftly taken to half correct the folly. a decree was passed, or whatever, and restroom facilities for the gentry were permitted to open once more, but only at 50% of the usual capacity. or, half. one provision of this was a strict limitation on the number of gentlemen who could congregate in any one restroom at one particular moment. no clarity was given on who might patrol or enforce this limitation, but Spiros has assured me that, in his extensive experience, it is quite comment (indeed frequent) to find members of the constabulary in this particular social setting. 

for those wondering what, and where, Spiros is up to with a great deal of precision, above is an image he recently elected to share with me. and, as a consequence, you. not urinal limitation lament torment related per se, but close. someone, an anonymous source (but likely one of them london hackney carriage black cab drivers), had told Spiros that Wood Lane station, of all places, was now the most interesting spot for like minded men to meet. congregate, if you will. so, off he went. 

so, closing down (or making unavailable) some 50% (half) of the facilities (urinals, let us be honest and grown up about it) in gentlemen's restroom facilities in order to win the invisible war on the new plague. whereas i get the logic, the thinking and perhaps the intention of it, this was not thought out at all. by decreasing the number of things one may conventionally use in such a facility, what they have done is, as point of fact, increased the number of members of the gentry standing around, in close proximity to each other, waiting to have a go (so to speak). 

above is an image of a private cubicle, with a non-urinal relief facility within, closed off. i do not believe this is due to any covid concerns, but rather due to some damage in it. possibly from a distressed incident, i would rather not know or ask. or maybe it is closed off as part of the invisible war. i had no wish to move any closer to read the sign. 

with the idea being to "maintain social distances", commonly accepted as 6ft (or about two metres) apart from one another, then surely, to get back on some sort of vague point, it would have been much wiser and more better to increase the number of facilities available to the gentry, rather than decrease them? i proclaim to be no expert, and clutch at a shield of defence that i am but partially educated, but if i have counted correctly then more urinals would mean less men standing around near each other for prolonged periods of time. 

right there above is the taped off, blocked or if you will banned (barred) urinal, but not presented in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. for some reason it is so that someone appears to have put a little bit of a tear in it, maybe one of them "glory hole" things i have heard about in passing. no, it most certainly was not me. 

he is the only person i know what spends a considerable, nay formidable, amount of time in public restroom facilities, so i asked of Spiros his thoughts on urinals being blocked off. this was done with an innocence not reciprocated. a brief element of his response indicated that he did not notice, and then he commenced telling me tales along the lines of meeting like minded men to form short term but mutually beneficial friendships. i listened for a short while but soon, as i felt my sense of purity being desecrated and corrupted, told him that it appeared my leg (or similar limb) was falling off, and that he would have to tell me all about it at some other, deliberately not specified, time. undoubtedly, he shall. 

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

have you ever had it blue

heya

ok, so this is the last post i will be writing prior (or going, look you see) to go get one of them injection things. you know, this vaccination business, which is the most recent weapon to be deployed in the invisible war against the new plague. 

no, i have at this moment in time no idea which variation, or version, of the injection it is which shall be sent hurtling through my veins. also, no, i am not fussed or concerned about the one i get. my understanding is that all of them can produce some side affect (effect) or other, and this varies from person to person. so, bring it on. 

a particular concern is that one of the vaccination variations can (or "might") cause some form of blood clot in isolated, far and few between cases. this, or that, would be the one which the French really don't like, and so of course by default i actually hope to get that one. besides, it is rather late in the day for me to all of a sudden get precious or concerned about introducing things to my system what can cause clots. 

speaking of which, and in a rare lack of planning or preparedness on my behalf, it was so that recently i was caught short in respect of having some fags on me. to resolve this distressing situation i went to the nearest retailer known for selling such things, only to discover (disappointingly) they did not have my brand of preference. sure, true, this could have been my cue to quit (or cut down considerably) but instead i requested they sell me the cheapest pack they had. which is how come i have now experience the fags that are L & B Blue, or Royal Blue. 

how were they? if we can momentarily leave aside the general consensus of no fags being particularly good, what with the health concerns and that, actually they were not bad. all right, as it happens. generally the "blue" variant of most fags tend to be "lighter" and thus not satisfactory, but these caused no displeasure. make no mistake, they were not quite so compelling that i would have them on a regular basis, but all the same, it is nice to be aware (or informed of) a possible alternate. 

right, well, that's about that. let me go and retire for the evening, so that i may be all awake and prepared for this injection business. 

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

lost in music

howdy pop pickers

and so another bourgeois, indulgent slice of consumerism, look you see. which would be to say yes, i have gone done bought another musical excursion in a compact disc format. or compact discs, for, or as, the set what i have most recently purchased takes the shape of four (4) discs, housed in a rudimentary basic case thing that just about meets minimum requirements. 

over the last few years (truly i forget how many, perhaps now two or three) some of you regular readers will have given a moment to glance at my observations concerning the CD (which is the common way to refer to compact disc, but also yes a cross dresser) issues (or re-issues) of the first few volumes of compilations called Now That's What I Call Music. for clarity, the original (or initial) UK versions of such, as in different nations the sequence of numbers (and track selections) differ considerably. it is not so that them what do the Now series limit themselves to this. presumably so as to seek money they issue a rather formidable number of themed compilations, all of a title which commences with the words Now That's What I Call. 

usually, normally and very much as a standard i generally do not bother with these sets. for the most part they comprise of things that i have and have no wish for further copies, or are filled with songs that i assume the lure (or attraction) is that they are cheap to licence. such a shun was not to be with the most recent of these items, for it had immediate appeal. 

so much can be associated with, and spoken of, 80s music that it is impossible to give one precise such thing the title of being a definitive representation. but for us, them what grew up (for the most part) within that decade and fell in love with music, the 12" single holds a huge part of any aspect of the heart which has a string to be pulled by the decade. of this, then, putting out a set dedicated to some of the 12" singles of the time (albeit just the "A" side, or the business end if you like) was always quite likely to be an immediate purchase for some, especially me. 

to go non non-linear, it was even so that i (moi) was able to buy it on the day of release. for purposes of provenance, it was from a Tesco in a province of far distance. the price paid for this was a most agreeable £10, which was just fine as i had seen pricing some way north of this indicated. so as to give some indication of this, i believe there were a few retailers who proposed to command a cost of either £12 or £15 for this. that costing might have made me pause, but £10 was autopilot. when one considers that, back in the 80s, just one (1) 12" single would have cost a pop fan such as i either £2.49 or even as much as 1p south of £3, well, there is how music has been devalued by the modern world. 

you are no doubt (possibly if not potentially) interested in the track listing, so below is an almost not too blurry image of the back. indeed, on a cursory glance, my magpie eyes rather honed in on the shiny ones which were of appeal in this regard, disregarding the fact that several tracks on it are not ones i would have no general wish to be in my collection. 

perhaps some historical observations, or points, are appropriate here. others shall have recorded this in a much more better way than i, but here we are. the twelve inch single did exist in the 70s, but truly came into its own in the 80s. a bargain was struck between record labels and fans, albeit in a tacit way but all the same one which was win-win. many of us fans bought the 12" of singles as well as the 7", so as to get different versions of the same song and the occasional extra track on the b-side which was not available anywhere else. for their side, the record labels clocked that 12" singles were lucrative, as they effectively (in a cost efficient way) meant that they could sell the same song to fans again and again. going further, early on multiple variations of 12" releases also counted towards the singles chart (which was once an important thing), and so staggered issues of new 12" singles could prolong the life of a song in the chart far further than the usual shelf life. 

easily one of the strongest, greatest and best examples of this was Two Tribes by Frankie Goes To Hollywood. as much as i love the band, and the song, the nine weeks it spent at number one was perhaps less the case of people discovering it over the course of two months, more so fans buying the new 12" of it record label ZTT (who infamously kept most of the income) issued every two weeks or so. not long after the chart rules were changed to prohibit exactly how many 12" singles counted towards sales for the chart. but don't hate the player, hate the game. except in the modern world, where it is that the blasphemous pornography of Ed Sheridan (or whatever) has desecrated the charts to the point that they are of no current value and all historical sentiment has been corrupted. 

happily, and but of course, one of the (many) 12" remixes of Two Tribes features here, in the form of a less re-issued one, the Carnage mix. usually it is the more famous (and certainly most bought) one that ends up on disc, the Annihilation remix. that is one i have on CD at least 15 times now, so it was a delight to get a mix that i only have half a dozen or so copies of already. 

a look, in the above image of the inner housing of the discs, presented of course in the greater good and glory of Commodore 64 mode. everything about this flimsy cardboard packaging says "cheap", under the presumed pretence of "more environmentally friendly than plastic". i confess, though, this makes it less bulky to handle, but i suspect (and fear) the packaging shall soon be damaged. well, it will if the discs get taken out and played frequently, which i am not so certain shall be. 

for further, or more, historical context or pop culture milestones, a 12" which could claim to be one of the most significant and important of the decade features here. whereas the chart success of Frankie Goes To Hollywood which was not controversy was 12" record sales, they cannot claim to have released the biggest seller of this format. so far as i am aware that honour remains with New Order and the original (1983, i think) 12" of Blue Monday. and that is here. an oddity is that i don't think too many bought any 7" variation of it, if even a 7" single of it existed. famously, of course, the record label for it actually managed to lose money with each sale of the record, due to the fancy packaging. 

mostly, or for the most part, my purchase was driven by the presence of a 12" that i always wanted but never owned as such. that would be I Beg Your Pardon off of Kon Kan, a song i loved generally but also specifically for the 70s disco dressed dude in the video. strangely my memory remains good for the large majority of vibes, and in this instance i know i still have the tape what i made where i taped this 12" off of Rohan. same tape features one lacking on this CD set, which is Love Missile F1-11 off of Sigue Sigue Sputnik. 

let me not dirty this post by complaining (too much) about inclusions i could have done with out. broadly, or specifically, though, well north of 50% of disc four (4) shall not be played. i am delighted with the Ray Parker Jnr and Tina Turner inclusions on it, also Kim Wilde's one is great, but for the rest, not too fussed. 

considerably more good than bad sits across all four discs, then. well, maybe just more, but still, i am not going to consider the investment a flawed or failed one. but yes, i am aware that all of this, and more (such as the Male Stripper 12 i would have loved to have seen included here) are undoubtedly available on some streaming service or another. consider me overweight and out of date by all means, but i just like the pleasure of putting on a disc rather than faffing to see what is where. even if it is like this, which seems to be less curated, more slammed together on the cheap. 

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

pencil case

hello there

well, not everything i post here can be all exciting, mystical, flashing lights or be overtly exciting, look you see. sometimes, every now and then, it is just a new pencil case what i bought, mostly from a stance of necessity but also as it made economic sense.

although, that said, maybe this is all exciting that i give any immediate credit for. recently i have had the pleasure of a good conversation with a good friend. entirely by chance one of many quotes from the ever quoted Oscar Wilde was brought to my mind during the chat. this was the one where Wilde spoke, or maybe wrote, "everything in the world is about sex except sex. sex is about power". but to say such is applicable or relevant to the realm of the pencil case may, i concede, be pushing it. 

i have purchased, acquired or if you like invested in a pencil case, then. believe me, this was no off the cuff, whim or retail therapy purchase. of the many requirements or needs in my life, it has been so that a pencil case was rather close to the top of a list which does not exist in a real sense but does seem to bounce around in my mind. 

for what reason (or purpose) did i need a pencil case? it is to keep pens and pencils in, as would be the convention for such a wonderful invention. yes, i am aware that certain elements of our society use pencil cases in a not really intended for such purpose way, such as to conceal illegal items, but this simply is not how i do things. with good fortune, chance and some degree of luck it is that i have any number of pens and pencils, and understandably (i trust) desire a means to keep them stored nicely, securely and in a reasonably tidy way. one can seldom top a pencil case to meet this ambition. 

pictured above is what one must now surely describe (accurately) as my old pencil case. yes, it is a One Direction one, which has served me well for several years. now, to show with a pun how i have my finger of the pulse, that i am down with the kids, relevant, hip and of wit, it has clearly become a Busted one. guilt for the desecrated state of this case is mine and mine alone, with particular emphasis on how the zip mechanism has parted from the body of the case. this was all my doing, for i ruefully and willing forced far too many pens and pencils in to the case. something had to give, and what gave was the bond or stitches which kept the zip mechanism functionally attached to the body of the case. 

due to a lack of demand for merchandise for One Direction in the present day (a matter which took me by some surprise) i have been unable to find a direct like for like replacement. well, at least not at a price commanded that i was prepare to agree to commission. seeking a suitable substitute, or replacement to be more poignant, has been a matter i have wrestled with for a few weeks. at once, i was in need of one, but did not wish to just get the first available. considerations such as style, and cost, were at the forefront of the quest. 

certainly the ever reliable Poundland offered some, for £1 a go, that seemed functional. but that functionality was likely to be limited, as nothing of the cases they offered indicated or suggested that they would be sturdy enough to survive the long term expectations and demands i would have. ultimately i knew that the destiny where i would find what i required would be in the clearance section of a WH Smith. it was so that this was what happened. 

on entering the premises of said retailer (WH Smith) i observed a formidable range of pencil cases available to people like me, who are of the public. actually, for the purposes of full disclosure, i was in fact in there to do business with the post office located inside, rather than specifically to be there for a new pencil case. two for the price of one, then, if you will. so i bought this one, a "Gul" branded one, which assures me is a "performance" product. yes, for an agreeable, modest £2.

so as to confess, this pencil case was a late second choice. initially i was drawn to an exotic pink fluffy one, which for some reason was shaped like a whale or similar beast of the seas (and oceans), yet also appeared to feature, for some reason, a unicorn horn resplendent with rainbow colouring. just from my description i would dare to presume or assume you would also have been drawn to such. but this Gul one, which promises an unspecified level of performance, was slightly cheaper. 

how happy am i with my purchase? up to now, satisfied. it is capable of housing a reasonable number of pens and pencils, holding them quite safely and, thanks to the zip presently not being busted, securely. some concerns remain that the appearance, whilst pleasant and aesthetically outstanding, is not intended for me. the sleek, dynamic, striking black and yellow scheme with a stark nod to silver is perhaps far too stylish for my sense of fashion. although here i am now, a life adrift in apparent perpetual solitude, so it is not to be that many (if any) are likely to see it "for real". only those of you looking here are likely to observe it. so, i suppose i can sit with it here and hear my inner dialogue express some form of pretence that i am a person within the intended target market demographic for such a splendid item. 

my heart does indeed yearn for the era in which pens, pencils and so the requisite pencil case were of greater value (and importance) than is so now. with "digital" being the dominant form of correspondence, it is simply not so that instruments of scribe are as essential or needed as once was. little much of anything is better than receiving and reading  the considered composure of a letter, but do not blame me, i just dwell within this world, i didn't create it. 

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