in the lap of luxury

hi there

do you ever get one of those unexpected, possibly wildcard, incidents in your life where you get treated and pampered beyond any rational or reasonable level of expectation? such an extraordinary, rare and to be celebrated, if not cherish, thing happened to me today, look you see.

what was it? Arriva, then people who i give coins of money to with the reasonable hope that they will transport me to and from verk in a mostly reliable and partially safe way, indulged us with a taste of luxury today. they allowed us, that is to say me and my fellow passengers, to ride on one of their luxurious "new" branded Sapphire buses, rather than the usual badly maintained, way beyond any hope of repair and far past their end of use ones that they throw at our route in the hope of causing death.

my ride is usually a painful one, and in recent times has been prone to be broken. there was recently this special incident where one broke down, and as recently as Monday we had a bit of a breakdown along the wastelands of Marton Road. and then on Tuesday the driver had an argument with the door which he, quite comfortably, lost.

yes, dear reader. yes i did indeed take some images of this new(ish), luxurious bus that they allowed us to ride on today. i had to do so in a secretive way, of course. but i could not not take them, as presumably they will not allow us such luxury again.

yes, that is indeed a plug socket on a bus. whereas my usual journey on the bus they put on the route features excessive vibration, a proclivity for the bus to screech as it brakes and a lack of even the most rudimentary of shock absorbers, the bus i was allowed on to today, by the grace of Arriva, featured a ride so smooth and the requisite power socket outlet that if i so wished i could have done a spot of ironing, or perhaps even boiled a kettle.

no one actually did those last two points above, but that is perhaps because they were all as baffled as i was as to why we were being treated to such a decent bus for our journey. there was a kind of stunned silence across the bus.

not so much on the older, knackered bus i took this morning, of course. that one featured two students discussing how all the mermaids probably live in the 75% of the oceans that we don't know what is contained within, but that is a tale for another time, perhaps.

the headrests were all nice too, and the seats were comfortable. also, the windows were a good deal cleaner than the ones on the buses they usually put on our route. which is saying something.

to what end, or for what purpose, did we get a new bus today? that, dear reader, is a very good question. it cannot be simply because all of the other buses were, at last, broken to a point that they could no longer make a gesture of starting. they have been known to simply cancel services for our route in those cases, with no word of notice or alternate given.

i suspect it is some sort of barbaric, psychological torture. perhaps they threw this bus at our route just for once so that we could see what it was like to travel on a bus they deem suitable for routes they seem to like. that would be the ones they run a service for every 10 minutes, no matter how empty the buses are. unlike ours, which features one bus an hour, and is always packed to capacity as a consequence.

Spiros also had a taste of luxury today, you might be pleased to know. he took the time, trouble and effort to send me a picture of the swanky place he went to for lunch.

what did he have? usually he would have either a Greek or Turkish dish, or maybe some fried chicken. today, however, he told me that he went and had the sausage special at this place, and was in no way at all disappointed with what he had.

now is not the time to dwell on the adventures of Spiros, however. you want more images of the fancy bus i was allowed on today. to that effect, then, here is a last image.

yes indeed, at the top centre-ish there you can see a television set. what did we get to watch? a message across it that read "connect cable". we all watched in the hope that someone would connect the cable and we could have a gander at some sort of TV show, or see the news about a plane crash or someone leaving One Direction, but alas it was not to be. i would say perhaps next time, but i suspect they will not allow any of us to go on this bus ever again.

oh i agree, look at how shiny and clean all them poles are! the buttons are all as clean as, well, a button too. that's lovely, that is.

there are, it is worth noting, the only headrests on buses i have been on it town that do not have 'Daz' carved on them. i am not entirely sure exactly who this Darren is, but if i ever met him, right, i would shake him by the hand and say how impressed i am by what a prolific bus rider he apparently is.

it will, no doubt, be all back to normal tomorrow, with the patience of my spine tested by a dangerous old bus. perhaps i shall gaze upon these pictures that i have taken as i ride, sweetly reminiscing about the time that the people at the bus company treated us like decent human beings.

i trust your travels today featured the luxury and class that i was allowed a taste of.




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

knacked case and frozen tissues

hello there

well, in showing that i will not hesitate to put basically anything up here, no matter how boring, for your amusement is illustrated, if not personified, with this post right here, folks. the title, look you see, is pretty much as good as it gets, and it won't be getting that good again any time soon.

i appreciate that monday is a day that several of you prefer me to go on about the impending, indeed if not imminent, cow revolution, but alas not today. i didn't see them, i didn't get any pictures, and as i am still suffering with ebola levels of manflu that has scurvy and sarin gas in it i am unable to manufacture an accurate report of their movements.

although, if you are interested, a bull was prancing around with some intention this afternoon. it was probably in a way that lady cows find most erotic, or otherwise in a way that the bull at least believed the lady cows would find to be charged with eroticism. assuming, for the moment, that cows have ideas or notions pertaining to erotica.

so, anyway, my knacked case.

this is the class case for my blueberry, ladies and gents. the one where the hole for the camera lens was not as flush as it could be, which meant that images had some sort of purple hue border to them. as you can see, it's wrecked, if not knacked. it all fell apart on me last night as i scrambled, for your benefit, to get an image of a couple of people looking at a Speedboat that they did not win on Bullseye last night.

so, Kanye at Glastonbury no less. i have a number of friends who think he is boss, i have a number of friends who think he is awful. the best thing about this "surprise" headline act is, of course, the reaction. all of it is, by and large, priceless.

people who bought tickets for Glastonbury complaining about Kanye being a headliner are priceless. they are, after all, the ones who bought the tickets "blind". which is to say that they threw money at it without any idea at all who would be playing. they did this willingly, and then complain about what they get in return for their money? oh, i don't think so. it is worth mentioning - again - that this "headliners only revealed after tickets are sold" nonsense only came in after the disaster of 2008, when the festival did not sell out due to a very, very dull set of headliners being named.

the organizers of Glastonbury complaining that people are complaining? priceless. they truly do want to have their cake and eat it. on the one side they are very, very keen to promote the "yeah, wow, right on man, socialist and liberal we are in it together, it really is all of ours festival" notion of the thing, right up until they point that anyone disagrees with their views. their claim of booking Kanye to show the "diverse and all encompassing nature" of the festival is particularly amusing. as has been the case with all the other entirely randomly selected black American acts they have booked for headliners, the reason is simple - money. with the exchange rate at present, it is an awful lot cheaper - meaning more money for Family Eavis - to book American acts than it is UK ones. simples. although it was nice of the Guardian, no less, to publish their bizarre, right-wing, borderline Thatcherite attack on people daring to criticise them.

people saying that those who object to Kanye are "typical middle class white racists"? priceless. listen, folks, let me reassuringly pat you on the shoulder and let you know - being white and not liking Kanye does not make you racist. it simply means you don't like his music. unless this logic is applied universally, of course, and we can consider every single black person who does not like U2, or the Pet Shop Boys, or even Jedward, to be being blatantly racist in that regard.

the whole tragedy here is that Glastonbury should be something special, that happens to make a good many people an awful lot of money as a consequence. instead it's something that makes an awful lot of money whilst people sit around and pretend it's something special. the headline acts, despite the hundreds of acts booked, do indeed very much "matter" - they are headliners for a reason, and are supposed to reflect how awesome the whole thing is. that's not really happened this year. the 100,000 odd people who bought tickets for what is ostensibly a rock, indie, alternative and general hippie festival are, at heart, not at fault for being somewhat irked at an act that does not readily fit into those categories being booked as a highlighted headliner.

it doesn't really matter who they announce as the third and final headliner - the organizers don't particularly care, so there is no reason at all for anyone else to. a third American act would help boost the profits even more, though.

so, tissues what have been endorsed by one of my all time, top ten, greatest movies of all time, i think. i mean, i am relatively sure that i have seen bits and pieces of this Frozen film. that song that's all about letting something go is off of it, yeah?

i had a requirement for some "travel" or compact tissues, and they were selling these, so i got them.

it's boss, i tell you, simply boss that the packets feature all of my favourite characters across the packaging. there they all are - that thing with the antlers and his mate the snowman, them two lasses and that dude. just amazing, it is, to have them to look at as i sneeze and blow my nose into one of the 10 3-ply tissues which are housed in each packet. 

are these Frozen tissues helping me with my plight in facing down manflu that is loaded with ebola, sarin gas and scurvy? partially. i mean, i have not used one yet, as i still had some tissues left in another packet. but i reckon they will be of some comfort and help when i use them.

right, let me go and take some anti-sarin gas stuff, and try and find some scurvy antidote too. 

i trust that wherever you are you are not as affected by manflu as i am. although, unless you are already dead, it would be impossible to be suffering with it as much as i am. 

so if you are, thank you very much indeed for making the effort to read this from the afterlife. that's amazing, man, that is. 




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

a return to storage

hi there

sorry to disappoint, or indeed happy to please, but this one is one of those rare, pretty standard, dull and boring "what i did today" posts for a change, with no nonsense or silly stuff. well, maybe a little. and also it does not, look you see, cover my entire day, which is still at this point a going concern and has been rather busy.

i woke today with sunlight across my face. this was in the moments after the time conventionally referred to as 7:32am had dawned. i found my mind racing with all sorts of ideas, plans and intentions. i opted, then, whilst full of spunk about it, to do what i could of those ideas with the day today.

here's one of them "car mirror" selfies that some of you seem to like, what with it making me look like an assassin or other such shady type of character.

for the early stages of the day,  this enthusiasm stretched to getting some washing done and hung out on the line. the era of Spring, you see, is supposed to be with us northern hemisphere dwellers, and so i should be able to hang stuff out to dry. not that there's anything wrong with the tumble dryer we have. well, bar the fact that it does not sing and dance like my superior washing machine, but this is what one gets when one allows their (considerably) better half to select a piece of equipment. "does it sing a song" seems to be very low down on her requirements when buying appliances, let me tell you.

after that was done i still had some ample time prior to the proprietor of my grocer of choice opening for business, so i opted - as one may well have guessed from the title - to do something i have been meaning to for a while, which was to go and have a gander at how all our stuff is in storage.

the last time i visited, or went to see or inspect, our storage stuff was in the latter stages of last year, when William got all excited about getting one or both of his Captain America shield things. we have, in truth, had a good deal of snow and quite challenging weather since then.

whereas our storage facility looked like it was perfectly capable of handling any challenges thrown at it via the weather, one always has a sense of being compelled to go and have a look, to check that all is well and as it should be. well, maybe one does not at all, but i certainly did. which is why i had all those intentions of going to check. as time allowed for me to do such a thing today, today is the day that i then did make good on the sort of pledge i had made with myself to do this very thing.

for the sake of avoiding a cliffhanger or anything dramatic, indeed all is as it was and should be in storage, with everything there, no damp or snow or wind or water problems. nice one. the image of the padlock above shows the only obstacle i had to face - having not been used for a while it needed a touch of that WD40 stuff to get it to work.

so we might as well have a look at a nice view, then, i suppose.

no, i have not as yet walked up there since my return home. i really should, especially as i have a proper ipod thing capable of keeping a battery charge so that it can give me partnership all of the way up and most of the way down too. Apple products, after all, seem to be designed with a mind to rid the world of as much electricity as possible, what with how often they require a charge. 

a brief departure from storage and lovely views, then, to bring you something that is in all that Japanese stuff, or might be Chinese or something. it could be Gaelic for all i know.

hopefully, however, it is very much Japanese, as Spiros would benefit a very great deal from it. he has had some ideas - several, as point of fact - about what he can bring to the world of Japanese finance, in particular with respect to Japanese financial concerns based in or around London. well, in London, for he has decided that he is now well innit wicked down on that whole cockney life, in particular the jellied eels and the idea of being crowned or ordained a pearly king one day, and so has not the slightest intention of ever leaving the city. 

to you or i, dear reader, them words there might not look as thought they are of all that much obvious relevance to the world of finance, let alone Japanese, but you or i are not Spiros. unless you are Spiros reading this. the man is a visionary, he would know more about it that we do.

a look at me looking at how everything is OK in storage? if such a thing would interest you, here.

there is, i suppose, a lesson in all of this for anyone considering moving around the world. inside storage we have a few things of considerable sentimental value. in a practical sense, however, it is a whole load of stuff we have not had with us for some 15, close to 16 months, and we have pretty much got on fine without it. let go, and travel light, then.

some more scenery images? if you like, no problem.

the coming of Spring - for it is certainly coming - really is one of the most excellent things about living in England. autumn and winter are all about grey skies, little daylight, darkness and cold. it can get quite depressing to live in from time to time, as it plays on your mind. it is, however, all made worthwhile with the dawning of this traditionally rejuvenating of seasons. everyone just feels better, elated and happier than they were before. nice one.

another image of scenery to finish off with? cool.

i will be off, then, whilst i have some degree of energy, to perform other tasks which need performing. this will, mostly, be reserved to bringing back in the clothes that i hung earlier today. well, they are not going to do it alone, and as they are now dry there can be little purpose in leaving them where they are.

hope you've all had a super spectacular weekend!



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

yellow, something to do with mcdonalds and fart gun

hello there

yes, don't worry, i know exactly which part of the title of this blog post will have caused the greatest level of excitement amongst my readers - there are two videos of the fart gun in action for you to enjoy. just now, however, look you see. let us try and pretend we are a little bit more mature and have a look at far more intellectual concerns first.

several people whom i correspond with, whether it be on a formal, informal or ad hoc basis, will become quite aware of the fact that i have, of late, become particularly fond of the colour yellow. there has been, across the main retailers i choose to do business with, quite a proliferation of greetings cards complemented with yellow envelopes. most, if not all, of the cards relate to Easter. this is not something that will deter me from using them post-Easter.

other than the lovely, lovely yellow envelopes that they come in, all of the cards have most magnificent images on them, be it a bunny, a chicken or some sort of religious concern. this is an excellent selling point, as indeed is the pricing of these cards. Poundland, or Poundworld - whichever it is i go to - does 4 for £1. Card Factory are not to be outdone here, however, and they offer no less than 8 for £1.

and now that they have gotten rid of all the Mother's Day and St Patrick's Day cards, Card Factory have made extensive use of the space available to stock many of these fine cards. observe, if you will, or perhaps a better way to describe this is behold.

amazing range, isn't it? and, in truth, this is not all of them. they have even more to select from, but this is all i could get into one picture.

do i really plan to use these for correspondence post-Easter? yes. it is a simple and rudimentary bit of work with a marker pen, after all, to change the 'Easter' component of the cards to any occasion that you would care to name. and the good wishes, indeed sentiments, i wish to apparently express to people due to it being Easter are, by and large, ones i would extend to those i correspond with at any time of the year.

what's that? you are getting bored now and you want a video of the fart gun? very well.

i, wisely or unwisely, gave young William a free hand in choosing a treat for himself at the shops today. after declining two choices that were far too expensive (not that this was cheap) and deciding not to get a Transformers toy that, rather oddly, didn't actually transform, he selected the 'Minion Fart Gun' off of them Despicable Me films.

what does the fart gun do? well, when you press the trigger, as you can see in the video above (unless you are watching on an Apple device - Apple doesn't do non-Apple video), it makes fart noises. and lights up. if you hold the trigger in it activates the timer, so you can hide the gun and run away, safe in the knowledge that the fart noises shall only commence after 20 seconds.

i do like to think that my more intellectually stimulating or academically challenging posts are appreciated here, but i cannot but help suspect that the presence of a fart gun on this post will make it one of my most widely read posts of all time. so be it.

right, the McDonalds thing. here are some stickers what i prized off the cups and burger boxes for the assorted meals i was charged with obtaining for my family today.

what exactly are they? beats me. looks like something to do with that Monopoly game. i believe the cadets at verk are all collecting them as part of some sort of competition, so i will take them in for them. nice one if they win something as a consequence, if not then at least i have shown some support for their venture.

and just what have the cows been up to? well, when i saw them on Friday, right, they were trying to breed. they were doing so via the so-called "doggy style", which struck me as being cumbersome and totally inappropriate for a cow to do. a colleague, indeed contemporary of mine, expressed tacit agreement with this, and suggested that maybe instead they were trying to create one of them "human pyramid" things like what acrobats and that do at the circus.

a video of the cows attempting to breed? alas no, but a video of them anyway.

but you want more fart gun video action, don't you? at times it feels like it is me, and i alone, that is presently aware of the very great danger the cows pose to us all. never mind, let us fiddle on deck as the buildings collapse around us and watch this next video.

is the Despicable Me official Minion fart gun a worthwhile investment? well, for my £18 i seem to have got a bit of rudimentary plastic with a battery, a flashy light, a speaker and some sounds that i would rather not know exactly how they recorded.

so, yeah, it's boss. fart sounds are very, very funny indeed, after all. and Despicable Me was excellent, with the Minions being a particular highlight. should you purchase one yourself, i wish you many hours of mirth and merriment with it.




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

toxic smog

hello there

and, well, oh dear. my throat feels as if it is on fire, and i have a runny nose. yes, then, dear reader, once again i have manflu, loaded as ever with ebola and sarin gas and scurvy. it is highly unlikely, now that i have less teeth to offer defence, that i shall survive this bout, look you see.

survival, or if you like being alive, is an interesting thing. it is, technically, something that neither i nor anyone else within the realm of the United Kingdom should be right now. well, maybe we are not, and the afterlife is a crazy one where everything stays the same. the news, as their main or lead story, declared that we would all be consumed by a toxic smog off them twats in France, and reported it with such drama and excitement that there was the mild suggestion that we would all soon be dead.

more on the toxic smog just now, but first this.

that, sort of in the middle, is one of the greatest novels i have ever read. well, not quite read yet. i have about the last third or so of it to go on the e-reader. i picked up The Girl On The Train over on that e-reader thing as it sounded intriguing.i knew nothing about it in particular. i have since discovered that it has been toppermost of the poppermost book charts in America for a bit, and has sold in excess of a million copies. i can well believe it, and i hope it sells many times more.

the paperback is only scheduled for release in 2016. there is a movement, a movement of which Spiros is very much at the forefront, that says "hardback books are for twats". it is not for me to challenge or endorse the veracity of this position the movement has taken in general, but in this specific case i would say to you, dear reader, that if you cannot or will not get the e-book, then rather get the hardback edition.

on to the toxic smog, then. here is an image of it, as the news promised, completely converging all across England, making it absolutely impossible for anyone to see anything, except their own lungs and liver and similar as they cough them up due to the toxic smog.

yes, that's right. this is the very same cows as i have been reporting on, only here they are in a new field that they have recently colonised, or if you like annexed. one could hardly judge them in an ill way for wanting this place in the sun. look, this one has a class bale of hay for them to dine on, and a smart tree for them to climb and play in and build a smart den or fortress in.

yes. that is Sentinel, or Lone Wolf, or whatever you want to call the leader, near the tree. it may look like Sentinel is getting ready to climb the tree, but i think i was being stared at, with the message being "soon you will die".
 

is this sarin gas laced, scurvy imbued ebola like dose of manflu i have, i wonder, the work of the cows as they plot revolution, or is it in some way related to the toxic smog that those twats in France have unleashed on us? who is it that will be brave enough to step forward and suggest that there is a distinct, real and dangerous connection between those two sources.

should death, as is expected, fall upon me as a result of the manflu with loads of ebola and sarin gas and scurvy in it, then remember me this way, dear reader. no, not the words you read, but that picture of me you see.

that is, of course, a picture of me wearing a white shirt. the interesting thing here is that this is a white shirt i have worn for an entire day. yes, that's right. it has remained white. no coffee stains, no cigarette ash rubbed into it, no sauce or other such food markings or leakage across it. and no, i did not conceal or otherwise hide the white shirt behind a jumper or jacket (except at breakfast), i went, as it were, commando with my eating and drinking. i shall treasure this, for if i wear the white again, it is unlikely that it will remain as unstained as this shirt did.

a video of the toxic smog totally killing all living things except cows here? sure, why not.

erm, yeah. that smoke you are seeing wafting past the lens of the blueberry camera, i should clarify, is not the toxic smog off of France come to kill us. it is indeed smoke from the cigarette i had on the go as i filmed. i thought about editing it out, or filming a scene without it, but then i thought i might as well leave it in for dramatic effect and all that. yeah, i know, the news reporters never ever get all excited and make things sound over dramatic, like us all dying from this toxic smog today, but then again i am not reporting the news.

rather obviously further updates here will be quite tricky as i cough up blood and my organs disintegrate due to that manflu thing, but i will try my best for you.

if you, like me, are presently dead because of that toxic smog today, all i can say is that i really hope it has gone as well for you as it would seem to have for me, except the manflu bit.

i think this is now twelve times my body has had to fight off an ebola infection, and it has probably been a dozen or so times i have had to battle, if not wrestle, with scurvy. it gets boring.




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

cow concern

hello there

for some inexplicable reason, or if you like for reasons i am presently unsure of, Monday would seem to have become the day that i present you, the more persistent or casual reader, with an update on what the cows are up to. for the new reader, have a look over at the post history thing on the side, or simply type "cow" in the search bar at the top, look you see, and read away if you are interested.

providing you with an update on the cows today is something of a challenge, as it turns out. that would be because they were not, with they being the cows, where they normally are. here, have a gander.

no, this picture isn't doctored, "photoshopped", modified or edited. not censored either. what you see is what you get, and what you get is a field with no cows in it. it is, if you like, a field sans cows.

where were they? in the field next to this one. i was going to take some pictures of them in it, but there were rather too many people around - at about 7:10am no less - walking their dogs. i would have looked suspicious, and might have accidentally started one of them dogging sessions off. no, that's not something that usually would be a problem, but it would have been if i missed my bus.

away from cows, then, and towards the Poundland place. Poundland has hit a really rather rich vein of crappy, rubbish horror films on blu-ray that they sell for £1 each. and yes, indeed yes i do purchase every single one that they put on the shelf for retail purposes.

Poundland is very much my salvation, or if you like bastion, at the moment with all the fuss, hoo-ha and nonsense in the news at the moment. no, not related to these blu ray discs of rubbish, but in the light of all that stuff going on with that John Elton bloke and someone called Dolce & Gabbana. 

where to begin? i really rather disagree with what Dolce & Gabbana, whoever they are, said about IVF treatment and so forth. however, i do not disagree with their right to state their view or opinion. the price, ladies and gentlemen, of free speech is that everyone has it. a great many people believe that being free to express their view is fine, but that others who have a view that disagrees with theirs should not be allowed to share or air it.

which brings us nicely to John Elton. whereas i don't agree with the view of Dolce & Gabbana, i equally do not agree with the reaction of Elton; a reaction which is fair to describe as the epitome of narcissism and a shiny example of the sense of entitlement prevalent in the world today. his bizarre temper tantrum, in public, in which he seemed to think they were talking exclusively about him was rather tragic.

i will not, then, be joining in with John Elton's classy boycott of Dolce & Gabbana, but also i will not be critical of him for doing so. it is just bloody handy, ladies and gentlemen, that presently Poundland does not stock whatever items it is that Dolce & Gabbana flog, so my non-involvement in the boycott is rather a moot point. i, in a very locked in a bathroom sense, dodged four bullets there.

back of the blu ray discs? sure, why not.

have i watched them yet? no, but i might, one day. of the two films, Husk seems to get an "it is not all that bad really" kind of review, in the same way that Fertile Ground, alas, does not. my problem here with a selection of viewing is that where the former gets the marginally (0.5 at time of going to press) better review, the latter would seem to promise more nudity.

a video of the field, bereft as it is of cows, at about 7:19am today? that's doable.

and there you have it, a complete lack of interesting cow update for this fine Monday. well, fine except for the grey skies and the drizzle.

if i remember, then surely yes, indeed i will bring you all another cow update next Monday. should they do something interesting before then and i happen to capture an image or two, well then yeah, i will do it before. obviously though if there is nothing of interest then i shall not trouble you.



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

on sexual magnetism

hello there

well, as i count down the 24 short minutes to when the repeats of Bullseye start on TV here on a Sunday night, i find myself reflecting on just what a, like, full on totes fanny magnet i am. and, in truth, a bit of a lodestone for the gentry too, i suppose - it is not my fault that i am incredibly attractive to both genders, and it is far, far from being an issue. i cannot be held responsible, look you see, for the fact that i ooze the appeal and charm which attracts basically anyone.

i am contemplating - dangerously so, granted - expanding on this sort of sexual magnetism i have naturally. to this end, i made a rather splendid purchase earlier in the day today when i was out doing my routine, perhaps rudimentary shopping for the week ahead.

yes, that's right. i had a requirement for some more deodorant, or whatever English marketing execs think it should be called instead, and so i bought myself a tin of that most predatory form of spray on attraction, Brut. yes, that Brut, the one that Keegan bloke advertised and used in the 70s and, as a consequence, was unable to do anything football related throughout the whole of the 80s due to how many sexual activities he got himself embroiled in.

the Marlboro are a gift off of Spiros, who got them when he recently went to Tibet, or Japan, or Panama or somewhere. no, i don't particularly care where it is he went,; i am just pleased that he got back safely enough to give us some Marlboro. cheers, Spiros, nice one man.

i am thinking that if i combine the scent of the Brut with the sight of the Marlboro sticking out of my pocket, then the sexual magnetism i exude naturally will be accentuated to Rod Stewart levels. this could be quite class. also, i am considering buying a copy of all that Fifty Shades Of Grey book to read on the bus with the above on the go, although that might make everything go all Robin Asquith.

could i enhance my sexual magnetism any further than the two products above? why, yes i could it would seem, as Poundland have a few items that could help. let me go there tomorrow.

the Lynx Gold Shower gel is a no-brainer. nothing on earth sounds as exciting or sexy, after all, as a shower of gold, or if you like golden shower, although in respect of the if you like interpretation there Spiros once mentioned a golden shower to me. i don't recall the specifics, but i do recall it sounding unhygienic. 

it is the shampoo i am most excited about in the above. yes, dear reader, i am contemplating a change. whereas for nearly thirty (!) years i have been a lemon in the shampoo sort of chap, the idea of my hair having a Moroccan shine to it is, indeed, exciting. i might, for the sake of a pound, have a go with 200ml of this shampoo, just to see how it all works out.

to further accentuate or otherwise enhance my sexual magnetism, i might well get a new phone. no, not one of them Samsung iGalaxy Apple things, for they are not proper phones as they do not have buttons. i am pretty sure that this one here is now available in a perfectly serviceable if somewhat rudimentary mobile version.

the erotica phone, or perhaps the phone of erotica, just looks absolutely awesome man. i mean, it looks pretty good in itself for what it is, but just look how amazing that dude in the picture looks using it.

the major problem i have here is the payment. not the saucy $69.99 that they charge for it, but the method of payment they want. apparently you have to have a visa, a mastercard and an american express credit card, according to the wording of that advert. i am not at liberty to say if i have one of those, but i can state with no hesitation that i do not have all three. whereas it would be smart to have all three, and do some of them class "pyramid scheme" sort of payment tricks with them, i simply don't. so presumably i am not in fact the target market for this very, very smart looking telephone.

right, then. Bullseye is now on, so it is time to stop contemplating my sexual magnetism and instead watch the master, Jim Bowen, exude his. after that it will be time to get some rest ahead of a week in which my sexual magnetism will, apparently, be extolled and expanded upon.

hope you've all had a smashing weekend.




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

and a couple more book reviews

hello there

yeah, time for a bit of a gander at a couple more books that i have read on the bus during the last couple of weeks. i suppose the most interesting thing of consequence for you that happened as i read these, other than that thing where the bus broke down in a demilitarized zone, is that i went to the tooth mender to get a couple of teeth not so much mended as extracted, look you see.

a quick look at the books i have read and a relatively spoiler-free overview of them would be the usual place to start here, so let me not buck that particular trend.

quick review? Dark Rising is a sort of celebration of classy 80s sci-fi mentalist action films only with a distinctly 00s and 10s edge to events, whereas Past Reason Hated is more of the same in regards of rural coppers and their unusual, predictable but nonetheless enjoyable choice of location from where to base investigations and so forth.

as is further usual or the norm, any links here to the books are not endorsements, business affiliations of mine or any sort of recommendation that you should use them for purchases. amazon is simply the shopkeeper that ships to most of the world, so it is easier to use them for you.

some scrolling text for the spoiler warning? sure, why not. although i think them Apple iGalaxy things and the Blueberry phones do not show it as scrolling text.


*** SPOILERS AHEAD - BE WARNED ***

yeah, the above would be particularly true of the first one. and, indeed, the second.

and so on to the first, which is a book i got from Pound Land or something for, oddly, £1. which turns out to have been a bit of a deal, as Dark Rising and other books by the same author seem to cost a fair few more coins of money in general.

plot? lots of different things. mostly, however, it is all Iran, and how they have built a class and secret underground base and have clocked how to make some very smart - boss, even - black holes appear in it. something to do with a metal ball.

quite a few people get upset by the idea of this. Israel in particular, as it happens, as the radiation readings off of it suggest that Iran is about to go 'super nuclear'. America is annoyed too, but mostly because it sounds like Iran has got a really, really class toy, and they want it to.

to this end, Israel and America decide to send some people - Israel opt for a nuclear expert dude and a mental lady assassin to destroy it all, whereas the Americans send a super solider, Project Arcadian or something, to go and steal all the data on how you make quite class black holes.

not everyone is against this class black hole idea. the Iranian president, for one, thinks it is boss, as it will allow him to do interstellar travel. also, and you saw the spoiler warning, a space alien stuck on earth that has been hanging around in the Iranian desert, eating bedouins or whatever, is very excited as he/she/it believes it is a way home. the space alien dude is quite lonely, so that's nice.

i have to be careful here. the book was written by an Australian, and Australian writers have been known to get very Australian if they feel cheeked, to the extent that they would think nothing of taking a flight to somewhere in the world where they believe the cheek came from and punch the cheek issuer clean in the face.

if the story is quite preposterous, which i am not saying it is, then there is at least the fact that this is a remarkably well written novel, and worth every single penny of the £1 i paid for it. i believe there is a book before this one featuring the same characters, and some three or four after it. i would certainly not hesitate in trying another, in particular if i saw it going for £1. i just wish my copy had the classy red cover to it which features, at the time of writing, on the amazon link above.

before we move on to the next book, then, an update from the world of Gallagher. here it is, folks - the uploaded to that Twerker thing and then deleted image of Liam holding a backstage pass card thing for a recent gig by his brother, Noel.

due to the somewhat abrupt end of the band Oasis and relationship between Liam and Noel, this has been touted as big news. this is peculiar, as in recent interviews Noel, when not asking for money, has commented that he and Liam have spoken frequently in the last couple of years, in particular at Manchester City matches.

to be honest, nice one that they are speaking to each other and that, but it makes little difference to me or anyone else outside of the gossip factor, i suppose. i mean, Oasis were a brilliant band, but by the time of the last album were all clearly a bit bored with each other and getting somewhat stale in the sound of the vibes they were creating. no, i am not one of those advocating a big massive Oasis reunion, then. i would really love it if Liam went back to making music, as he is interesting. Noel's pedestrian, middle of the road and dull solo stuff gets him all of the money and praise that he wants, so one would assume he is happy; just could be happier with more money.

away from rock and roll, then, and back into the world of doing police work in a pub as far as possible with Peter Robinson, no less. Past Reason Hated is the third book off of that set my Aunty got me for Christmas, and once more features that copper, DCI Banks or Chief Inspector Banks or similar.

plot? you all saw that spoiler warning, yeah? the action starts not in a pub but in the bar of a rugby club. Banks is disturbed by a young lady copper, recently made a DCI or whatever it is. there has been a murder of a lady - a lesbian lady, no less - and she wants some assistance.

no one apparently knew that the lady was a lady lesbian, despite her living with another lady. this is not my experience of village life, under which everyone would just assume they were lady lesbians anyway, but no matter. the investigations - which happen for the most part in the many pubs that rural England has to offer - mean that people get to discover that she was indeed a lesbian. lots of people appeared to have reasons to want the lady lesbian dead, or at least in the opinion of this Banks fellow they did.

on the one side this was an enjoyable read, and somewhat more in depth and involved than the first two by the author i had read. on the other, it is incredibly superficial at parts - the view of rural England on lesbians is covered by a lady copper thinking to herself that they are "disgusting" at one point. also, the resolution of the crime, for the third time, relies on the culprit subscribing to the English way of doing things yet again. which is to say that they would have gotten away with it, clear, if, and i remind you again of the spoiler warning, they did not opt to simply confess for no apparent reason in the last couple of pages.

also, as the three novels have progressed, more and more of the police business is held in a pub. i am not sure if this is a dig at the stereotypical view of English life, but it seems that the police in the world of the author can only carry out interviews, or consider evidence, if they have a pint of mild bitter as they do.

i have purchased, on my travels, another two novels by Peter Robinson. i guess, for the most part, there is your review - whatever flaws or shortcomings exist, they are very enjoyable reads.

the backs of the books? i am not sure what purpose or assistance they would serve you in, but i have no problem showing you a picture of them if it is of interest.

i am if not confident then at least optimistic that the next two books i read will not be disturbed by things such as the bus breaking down in any sort of hotly contested area, or with any need for a tooth mender to take a hammer to my jaw. you never know, though.

if you are in the market for a book recommendation, then at present i am something like a third of the way through something called The Girl On The Train over on the e-reader. it has, so far, been brilliant. engaging, compulsive and involved reading. well worth your time, dear reader, well worth it.

in the mean time, hopefully the comments on these two books have been of use to someone somewhere!



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

gay miners, traffic cones and one direction

hi there

well, the title really does pretty much cover this post comprehensively, except for the parts that are not mentioned in it. if you decide to persist and pursue reading this regardless, why many thanks, much obliged to you, to be sure, look you see.

first off, here in England dearest it is Mother's Day this Sunday. in and around the rest of the world, however, it gets celebrated in May or something. why a different day in England? why, i don't rightly know. i think it has something to do with either Easter, the coming of Spring, or a classy, smart combination of the two.

or maybe it was just a misprint on a calendar many years ago and, in a very English way, everyone just nodded and said best just leave it like that rather than waste the splendid printing job.

so, anyway, how does HMV believe one should treat the mother of the HMV shopper this Mother's Day? why, with this splendid, interesting and somewhat cosmopolitan range of gifts.

no, not the headphone bit, but the poster what has got "Mum" in big letters. just above all them Game Of Thrones box sets. whilst it is quite nice for them to select some films for Mum, some of them are rather peculiar choices.

to the best of my knowledge, for instance, that first one, Imitation Game, with him off of that tele show and one of the new Star Trek films, is about breaking codes - or codebreakers, if you insist, during World War II. hmn. if i was going to go World War II for Mother's Day, i would like totes go Where Eagles Dare with Eastwood and Burton.

on the same row is Pride, which i am led to believe is all about gay miners during the miner's strike of the 1980s. other than the fact that it no doubt has a boss banging soundtrack, i am not convinced this is what Mums around the country would want?

what did i get and send my Mum? mostly a card, but kind of also that Call The Midwife you can see on the poster, next to that one where that woman off that film with the umbrella and the chimneys does some singing and stuff.

did i buy myself a little treat to celebrate Mother's Day? why yes, i did. have a look at my smart new pencil case, and indeed boss stationery set.

yes indeed, they are all branded with my toppermost of the poppermost bands, One Direction, or if you like 1D. i am still very much enthusiastic about the band, in particular since in addition to Harry i have discovered that one of them goes by the name of Liam. i know this because his name is on the pencil.

my favourite part of the stationery set is probably the notepad with the class picture of them on the front. the paper inside it is all white, but it is all 1D endorsed paper. the rubber, or if you like eraser, is quite smart too. the ruler is OK, i suppose, but it is only a 15cm one, and six inches just simply isn't enough to measure my love for this band.
 

many of you with an interest or connection to South Africa will, no doubt, have seen this picture here, or the ones that go with it. what is it, you ask, for those with no such interest or connection? it is claimed to be the sorry state of that disgrace of service, the South African Post Office.

the story goes that someone went to Witspos, theoretically Johannesburg's sorting depot, to find out where the devil their mail was. disinterested staff simply pointed to the warehouse where the mail is and told him that if he wanted his post then he could go and look for it himself. he went in, unaccompanied and not stopped by anyone. there is where this and other pictures was taken.

is the above true? i cannot confirm it, but i see no reason to doubt it. those blue bags are certainly what the SAPO use to gather and collect mail in, at the least.

the SA Post Office had spent most of 2014 on strike. Yes, that's right, most of a calendar year. So far they have only been on strike 3 or 4 times in 2015. i think it is about a 50:50 ratio in respect of time not on strike and time on strike. although as many will tell you, it is hard to know when they are on strike and when they are simply being incompetent, as the people tend to get an equally non-existent amount of mail anyway. i have taken to posting mail to SA some 2 - 3 months before the date of things like birthdays and anniversaries, just on the off chance or hope i get lucky and they get through not too late.

not that, in the interests of fairness, England is some sort of safe haven these days. oh no, far from it. look, we had some sort of smart, classy and serious kind of crime scene in town today. here is where the area was marked off, so that the public would not trespass and destroy evidence.

what is it that happened in the vicinity of an entrance to a shopping centre that was so horrid and criminal that they used a whole, only partially damaged traffic cone to mark it off with? i actually have no idea at all, for there was no sign of any problem or issue.

actually, now that i think, today is a Friday. which would mean last night, barring another massive calendar printing error that everyone pretended not to notice, was Thursday. Thursday was a big drinking night for students, from what i remember. almost as big as a Tuesday or Friday or Wednesday.

if i recall my student days further, an important rite of passage was, when slammed on some sort of drink or substance, procuring a traffic cone or two. so maybe that is what this is all about; a student put it there. it would, after all, be rather foolish of the constabulary to use one damaged traffic cone to demarcate a non-crime scene.

hopefully some book reviews will get posted here in the next day or so, but other than that, let me wish you a wonderful weekend, hopefully blessed and marked with a lack of calendar errors and confusing traffic cone incidents.



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

the Bowie Brixton Banknote

hello there

oh indeed yes i am still in the recovery phase from my adventures with the tooth mender. actually, not too much recovery has been required, thank you for asking. a touch sore and challenging and i am a bit groggy, look you see, but none of the pain i both feared and anticipated.

anyway, you are not really interested in my tooth mender plight; you want what is promised in the title of this post. and it was in the post today that i got this most splendid looking thing. well, not a thing as such, but a banknote. well, a banknote of sorts.

yes, this is indeed one of the fabled, mythical and somewhat legendary Brixton banknotes that are available and used in certain areas of Brixton. nice one Spiros, who sent me this.

how is it that Spiros got one? by all accounts he has become quite the local, or if you like native, of that particular area of London, due no doubt to the proliferation of cheap meat sellers and low cost friend chicken vendors that operate within the borough.
 

there will be more on the bank note later, but in the mean time i thought some of you might quite like or be entertained by this somewhat vintage badge. although, reading the statement on it and considering the current "profit not market" approach of the company, you hardly need me to tell you that it is vintage.

no, picture and badge not mine - it seems to be floating around the internet, or if you like the web, and so i thought i would borrow it and put it here to make sure you, dear reader, get to have a gander.

Apple, of course, still trade on, or rather cash-in, on the idea that they are some hip, "down with the kids" sort of company - the antithesis of the corporate world, if you like, something "different". the truth is that they are just another soulless, profit driven corporate monstrosity. things would not be so bad if they didn't pretend otherwise. making money and being a success is not a bad thing or even a crime, but lying about it just causes ill-will. pretending that you do not have a factory full of kids making something does not make it better or make it go away.

actually just did an ebay search and could not find the above badge, but i did see one that says "Apple Product Professional". i might well get one. but for now, kids, yes, and back to the banknote of Brixton that features Bowie.

the thing that surprised me the most about this banknote - other than the fact that Bowie's lawyers have not been on to them to stop using his image - is the quality of the paper. i was expecting these Brixton notes to be printed on some coarse stuff, procured either from whatever the London version of the Pound Shop is (probably "tenner world" or "monkey emporium" to use their slang) or off of some cockney barrow boys' market stall down Camden way.

no, then. no is the answer to what i expected. it is printed - all shiny and with holograms and watermarks - on what you would consider to be proper banknote paper. nice one.

a bit more info, and a look at the reverse, of the banknote just now, but here, have a look at an amazing, class and brilliant double bill of movies that someone i know is watching tonight.

no, not me. also no, not Spiros. but someome that is very much connected to Spiros. i would think, though, that Spiros would like totes want to watch these films too.

the only thing really wrong with Sharknado and Sharknado 2 is that Jedward are not in either film. i am happy to say that they have fixed this, and Jedward will be in Sharknado 3, so that will be the best of all the films they have made in this series so far. for my American readers - Jedward is like the Irish version that Justin Bieber thing you consider to be so brilliant.

yes, i agree, enough of sharks; more Bowie banknote of Brixton for you. here, then, have a gander at the back of the note, beautified as it is with a peace symbol and some sort of bird congress.

the big question you probably have is just what is this bank note actually worth. well, as is the case with all things, i suppose, it's worth whatever someone is prepared to pay for it. for me it's priceless - not only does it have an image of Bowie on it, but my mate Spiros sent it to me.

for those of you who get all excited about "real" terms or "actual" terms when it comes to finance, however, i can inform you that the £1 Brixton is locked in as being worth exactly £1 Sterling under some sort of exchange rate mechanism agreement. which to my mind makes the whole banknote pretty pointless, except that the people of Brixton really seem to like it, so fair enough.

yes, this picture is of me post-tooth mender, so that you can see i am pretty much OK. well, as good as i get, i suppose.

not everyone, Spiros would like it to be known, in Brixton loves the banknote. far from it. certain florists accept them, as do a few meat sellers and various shops that stock sundries.

people who certainly don't accept them are, somewhat surprisingly, those Hackney carriage type of London cabbies, or if you like taxi drivers. they, in the experience of Spiros, are only interested in accepting notes - and, rather begrudgingly, coins of money - which feature an image of the Queen, gawd bless 'er, on them. if you offer them any sort of other banknote or currency, well, as we have seen in various posts on this blog from last year, fisticuffs are likely to follow. whenever he has a spare moment and cannot find anyone to have a punch up with, Spiros has been known to board a black cab with nothing but Spanish or Egyptian money on him.

cheers for the £10, then, Spiros, although it is worth far more to me than that!

hope that this insight into the Bowie Brixton Banknote has been of interest!



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

the Apple watch, a true masterpiece

hi there

well, i have to wait for about an hour or so before i can take some more of them lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely pain pills, look you see. yes, the tooth mender thing has turned out not to be quite such a breeze now that the anaesthetic has worn off. also, look you see, i suspect i might have a bit of post traumatic stress disorder after that thing with the cows.

so, then, the perfect time to have a  look at the Apple watch, surprisingly not called something completely twatesque like the iWatch.

no, i have not handled one. so i speak from no personal experience or any sort of position of expertise. instead, what i am doing is having a look at their adverts and promotion, which i have seen, and commenting on that, thank you.

in order off of their site, then, let's have a look at this revolutionary idea they have had to make a "smart watch" a mere year or three after other companies did it and reported less than impressive sales.

first off, just what is a watch?

yes, that's right. Apple jump straight in with the presumption that if you are stupid enough to buy a watch that has, at best, an 18 hour battery lifespan, you need to be told what a watch is.

it's a personal watch, because it was designed to be worn. yeah, they know that some of their more enthusiastic, or if you like rabid, product purchasers have loved their other Apple devices so much they have been intimate with them, but this is the first one that is intended to become an extension of your body.

the clarity on personal is indeed important. if they didn't state it was personal, after all, many people might buy one and hang it off of a lamp post like John C Riley did when he played a copper in Gangs Of New York. it is important to make sure you know that this is not a public watch. we will have to wait, presumably, for the Apple Clock to be launched.

OK, so a watch is something you wear, yeah? but what does it do?

it tells you, for the 18 hours that the battery allows you to look at it, what the time is. but not just the time. oh no, as you can see in the above stylish advert, it tells you the time in an incredibly precise way. that's incredibly precise. not sort of precise, or kind of  precise or half-arsed precise. no - incredibly.

i am sure there are watchmakers around the world - particularly in Switzerland but let's not pick on them - kicking themselves for not thinking of making a watch that would tell the time in a precise way. damn, missed a trick there.

i am very much looking forward to the first report, as i am sure you are, of an Apple watch wearer being punched in the face shortly after they told a Rolex wearer, or even maybe a Swatch or Casio one, that their time was wrong because they didn't have the latest iOS on their watch and that Apple said that this is the incredibly precise time.

OK, so it tells the time. but what else can it do? why, since you ask, it gives you an entirely new way to stay in touch.

why, hot diggety dog! Apple have worked out a way to actually let you send a message from a device to someone else with a device. you can send a picture or a message to someone with this watch.

i wonder if this will catch on, this business of sending people a picture or message via electronic devices? who knows, maybe one day they will make it so you have a device that lets you talk to someone else with a device, or send them pictures - video, even - or just send a text message.

not quite revolutionary for you? so what else does it do? why it tells you to move.

have we reached this point? really? i know there's a stereotypical view of people - in particular Americans - that they are all morons, but please say this is not so. people are now going to exercise - or just move around a little bit - because a watch from Apple tells them that Apple thinks they should do it?

i don't know, but i am going to assume that the watch does not let you see the time, or send a message, until you comply with what it tells you that you must do. so in order to use your device you will need to do a little dance that does not displease Apple.

OK, sold. but what if i am not an Apple product sort of person?

relax, don't sweat it. even if you are the sort of person who prefers a proper phone over an iPhone, or a proper computer over an iPad, they have decided to make the world of Apple Watch open to everyone. look, it says so on their website*

yes, there was a little sort of a * thing there, it was not a typo. why on earth would there be a sort of a * thing there? that means, usually, there is a disclaimer. that's because there is.

there is an Apple watch for everyone, so long as we all can agree that according to Apple everyone falls into one of not two, not four, but three categories.

gone are the days in which we had to endure being classified by race, religion, sexual preference, politics, haircut or sense of style. world peace has been achieved so long as you stick to your Apple definition of everyone. you are either a watch person, a watch sport person, or a watch edition person. decide, now, which one you are, and buy the product in accordance with this.

all this, and you don't even get a U2 album free with it. you do, however, get the chance to pay Apple to stream the next series of Game Of Thrones in celebration of this launch. yeah, that would be the Game Of Thrones that is the most illegally downloaded TV show in history. shrewd marketing move.

will i be purchasing an Apple Watch? maybe. i mean, it's a big decision, deciding what sort of person i am to meet the criteria of Apple's view of everyone. i am pretty sure i am not the sport one.

oh, i know. this will sell out on the day of release, due to a in-no-way-at-all stage managed shortage of watches. there will be fights outside Apple stores as people throw themselves at the chance of throwing money at Apple. and i would not change that for the world, good luck to all parties.

i just wish Apple would go back to making proper iPods, then i would not care at all about whatever other rubbish they put on the shelves.

i am off to take some pills, and have my best guess at what the time is presently.



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

schlieffen cow

hello there

well, yes. i made it through the test, or if you like trial, of the dentist. i do indeed write this from a position in which i have less teeth than i did the last time i composed something, and it would also be true to say that i write from the perspective of partial heavy sedation. so please do indulge me and kindly forgive any poor or awful grammar and English language use, look you see. well, worse than usual.

before i went along to the tooth mender, i contributed one half of a day towards verk matters, so that i may still be seen in some circles as a contributor to society. this, as it turned out was a near-fatal decision for me, for our so-called "friends" the cows are up to things again. not only are they mobilizing for an invasion, but they are also digging in for a standing the ground sort of thing land war.

as you can see in the above, other than the fact that you can make out the cows - cows that are now masters of herding, as per the earlier revelations - they have mastered camouflage and subterfuge to the extent that they are in effect invisible to anyone not looking. yes, i agree - this is a troubling development.
 

i opted to be brave and covertly took this photo of them, using my special zoom powers that are all but exclusive to blueberry phone camera things in respect of capturing an image of this quality. i assume you can make them out, with them being the cows, in this image.

the title of this blog post does now, to historians and other people with an interest in the past, make a great deal of sense, i suspect. for yes, your eyes are not tricking you here, what you are seeing is what is happening. the cows intellectual capacity appears to have escalated somewhat, and they are bravely attempting to make the Schlieffen plan work. as humans failed miserably in their efforts to do this, well, it is hard to see this as being anything other than a bold move, with the cows basically stating that they are superior to humans or, if you like, people.

the significance and the consequence of this are something that you no doubt wish to allow to sink in some, perhaps whilst you enjoy a nice, refreshing and inspiring cigarette. so here is a picture of some packets of cigarettes so that you may be inspired.

the Marlboro Red are via Spiros, with thanks. he went to Madagascar or Bolivia or somewhere in that area and got me some duty free. the Player's were the only think in the shop at the time and they are awful. the Winston represent my present brand of choice when Spiros hasn't been to Nagasaki or wherever. the Marlboro Gold Touch - confusingly in a silver packet - are growing on me and rather splendid.

if you are wondering if the inevitable video of cows doing all this evolutionary, revolutionary liberation stuff is going to feature somewhere here, the answer is yes it is, and here it is.

although obviously the cows in this video are doing a lot less than what they have been doing in other videos i have carefully shot - lensed, if you like - and brought to you here. this is partially because they have clocked that i film them, for some reason always on a Monday, but mostly because they are busy digging trenches, in accordance with the finer aspects of the Schlieffen plan; a plan which is likely to work at some point.

ouch. the anaesthetic i was administered by the tooth mender dude and his assistant would seem to have worn off. the mild pain killer i was permitted to take - very mild and low, for i am not some sort of nancy boy London sort - is partially working in a very mild sense. 

but you are not interested in any pain i must endure as i write this. sure, if it was any of the percentage of my family you all actually liked you would be concerned, but if it's just me then i should just get on with it and shut up about it.

it is all very well, you may state or simply think, me making claims on valid, substantial but possibly circumstantial evidence about cows getting up to some sort of revolutionary strike, but you may well wonder or ask when will they actually strike. well, dear reader, be ready for a shock if this is your current thinking. i believe that they struck the first visible blow in the liberation war today, and further i was one of the intended victims of this blow. and no, it is not just me imagining or assuming that the cows - in particular the leader, Sentinel or Lone Wolf - thought some nasty thoughts about me. they actually did something tangible, and i have evidence to back it up.

behold, if you will, the UN map of the incident that i was involved in earlier today, at about 7:40am.

yes, that's right - the UN. look, you can see their logo and name on the map, so it must be legit.

i think the map pretty much tells the whole story for you, but for the sake of a documented record of what happened, i shall give you an account here.

i, in the full presence of the cows, boarded a bus at the usual time that i would. i suspected something was wrong, however, owing to the number of people on it. my suspicions were that the bus i was getting on was actually the one before mine, running very late. this was more or less confirmed by the driver driving it like an absolute f*****g maniac, or 'like a boss' if you are one who approves of fast and reckless driving.

all was going very well, except for when we got as close as our route goes to the infamous, dangerous 89th Parallell (or however you spell parallel), that hotly contested border boundary sort of thing which separates the factions of Coulby and Marton.

yeah, i would totally agree, a look at the backs of the packets of cigarettes here would give you a bit of a break from the chilling story i am telling. so here you go.

we, as in myself and my fellow passengers, were left with no choice at all to disembark from the bus and trek through the demilitarized zone to board another bus. both the demilitarized zone and the route of the great trek are highlighted for you in the above map. no, not the cigarette picture, the one above that; the one that looks like a map.

some might say that Some Might Say is the greatest of Oasis songs, and that it is proof that Noel Gallagher can write a decent, mostly original song when he can be bothered. rather more relevant to this post, however, and some might say that all i experienced today was a combination of reckless driving burning out a clutch and overheating an engine on top of Arriva's legendary lack of interest in spending any money at all on maintaining buses that run near councils which do not give them enough coins of money to please them.

i say there is no evidence at all which eliminates the possibility that the cows sabotaged the bus whilst it stopped to allow me to board it. maybe, for all we know, cows are lightning fast, like that comic character that runs fast and has the lightning thing on his shirt. 

the life of cows is not, after all, all just hanging around digging trenches in the hope that they will succeed where other nations failed in conflict. look, here you can see Lone Wolf, or Sentinel, or whatever the name of the cow is, getting up.

it is entirely possible that the only reason i am alive, and was able to go along to the tooth mender this afternoon, was because that the cows neglected to synchronize watches - or whatever equivalent cows use to measure time - and the crack squadron of assassin cows were not primed and ready at the border or the 89th parrallell or however you spell parallel.

yes, the pain in my gums - the "sockets" where my teeth once were - is increasing in its tenacity and its passion. i am, however, sat here considering just how lucky i am to be feeling such pain, as death could have visited me earlier today.

it is my most earnest and truthful hope that as you read this, dear reader, you are not in as much discomfort or pain as i am with all things teeth related, and that cows have not singled you out for some bizarre form of retribution.

more as and when i can under the circumstances.



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