Snow or not to snow

I have been arguing with people who say there will be snow and blizzards tomorrow, I said there will not. I don't know why it is but sometimes I just get fed up with the same old story being repeated. By different people time and time again. Surely there has to be more to life than the next weather forecast. Not for some. But because it is supposed to be very cold and even possibly snowy tomorrow, there is delight in giving this bad news. I am fed up with it. My response is to remind everyone of when Michale Fish said there would not be hurricane winds, and there was in October 1987, winds which knocked trees down and made it nearly impossible for traveling. Although the weather predictions have got better with time they really are something we shouldn't have faith in. Humans make mistakes. They are predictions, not certainties. However, I'll not be putting on a Hawaiian shirt or going out in shorts tomorrow. It might be cold but I do not believe it will snow. Or believe I'll try my luck, just in case I get pneumonia.

Now what is the argument for beliefs being wrong? Especially when they have no factual evidence to back them up? The meteorologist makes a prediction from scientific readings, whilst I Crazyfirdayman make a prediction with no evidence. No numbers, statistics, no data, no help from any outside source. This will now either make me an idiot for going against the general consensus or it will make me a contrarian. If I am right then I doubt it would stop the spirits of gloom and doom from continuing their narrative sagas. Oh well, we'll see in the morning or maybe a little later. Fingers crossed, in gloves, wrapped up with a scarf, hat and a good heavy jumper. We'll see.

2000 Words

I had a text message from Rock Chick asking I check over her essay. We had made a start on it the last time I saw her. She'd written the first paragraph after asking me for an example first paragraph. Her first paragraph was better, and I liked it. So I expected after the text message the entire essay would of been written, it has been about a week maybe two since then. Shortly I receive her essay by email. The first paragraph was different. I'm sure it wasn't the one I had seen before. It didn't matter. So I read over it and rather than actually correct the actual essay I just changed the font colour to red and attached another document of my recommended amendments. There seemed to be quite a few bits and I thought it would take the weekend to finish it off. It was then I found out from Sparkling the essay was done in one night. What! To try and attempt 2000 words in one night is not going to work. Not even with the brightest, and certainly not up to a decent standard. When I was studying at degree level I would never attempt a 2000 word essay in one night. It would take a full week. Research and then writing bits off it at a time. Giving enough space so I could round it off the day before it had to be in. Of course at degree level you don't get much of a chance for any kind of extension, it's either in on time or you have just kicked yourself off the course. There were extenuation circumstances, but you'd not be given many of those. Death or likelihood of death might give you an extra week.

I'm glad I did not actual change Rock Chick's essay and just gave her a list of instructions. I gave the reasons why I thought certain changes would make it better. But really just did my best not to change it. Because in essence it has to be Rock Chick's own work. So mostly it was adding new paragraphs where there was just a block of text, punctuation and trying to break down over long sentences.

From Sparkling I heard the results of Rock Chick's sudden crazy impulse, it was one of panic. It seemed Rock Chick was giving Sparkling a bad time. I was actually afraid for Rock Chick because I could see Sparkling coming to a breaking point and committing murder. Yes. One less obstinate teenager in the world. No it's not worth it Sparkling. However, my worst fears were just dark imaginings without any real actions. Thank heavens. Although saying this, Rock Chick might just of been able to of got another extension.

There is an adage I like to tell young studying people, I heard it when I was studying and I've carried it about with me all the time. It is very useful only if applied. It is: "How do you eat an elephant?" The answer is "a little bit at a time," perhaps some day someone will understand this message and actually be a little wiser. I must admit it took me a little while to wise up, but I did and life was a little bit easier. Till next time when Sparkling is about to commit murder, I sure hope she doesn't watch too many episodes of Dexter.

A plague of fans and a temperamental computer

I am getting emails from some organization/web site I have never used. It's called Fanbox and with a little suspicion I rang up and spoke to Bam Bam my niece of 16 years. I asked if she knew anything about it. From which came strenuous replies of "I don't know" I asked whether she was sure and she said "I don't know" then I told her I had over a dozen emails from people I don't know wanting to be my fan and yet I had never been on this site. This is concerning. Having checked out the web site which has me part registered, there is a pop up box which asks for my mobile phone number so they can send me a code. It means, they basically want to shaft any idiot stupid enough to put their own phone number in, a monetary charge goes to their phone and then it sends a code to register for real. This opens up the users to being charged for other services and receiving phone calls from sales reps called John from third world countries. Fanbox seems a little bit like Friends reunited, except for the shafting you bit. I managed to somehow log into it and press a few buttons to deactivate a half set up account. Bam Bam said she was getting emails from them as well and didn't understand it. Likely story I thought, sounds like someone has managed to hack into msn messenger or something, because I never use this site and never intend to. So beware.

My computer has decided it is returning to having hissing fits and is taking longer to boot up. Error reports keep popping up asking if I want to report the problem to Microsoft. Frankly it's another thing to be fed up with. Even talking nicely doesn't seem to do the trip. When a computer is going to the knackers yard it just has to go. I keep my fingers crossed and hope it can last. Another year would be nice, but at this rate I'll be lucky.

London smothered and the porky index

Today was one of those non existent days, where you are glad you're not stuck at home getting depressed when it's much better to be occupied and getting paid for it. The depression bit can wait for another day. I did not see a single ray of sunshine. Not one. The clouds stayed overhead and refused to move, like they had seen a Lord of the Rings movie and wanted to try out this effect for real. Though it was more of a grey foggy sky than moody. So seems like they were not quite up to the job. They must of been having a bad day. So instead they made up with a little bit of rain here and there. Yep moody and smothered was London today.

I think the fridge is too high because I've another frozen diet coke. Did the gym again and I expect I'll feel the full effects tomorrow morning, which is usually what happens. Ate a massive chicken and mushroom pasty when I got home, so again my calorie consumption has out weighed my calorie burning. But apparently there is a new pill you can get from the pharmacist to help lose weight, each one cost £1, and you don't have to see the doc. But the pharmacist will check you over to see if you managed to get in the door. Therefore if you managed to get through the door you probably will not be given the chance to buy this pill. And if you are stuck outside because your girth is a little too much then you can't come inside to purchase the pill. The pharmacist has to follow guidance on how porky the customer is, they have something called the porky index, no I mean the BMI (Body Mass Index) if you are a hippo, no, I mean appear to have an excessive mass then you win the prize and can purchase the slim pill. If you don't then everyone else can think you are porky except the chemist. Personally I will do my best to cut down. But it's tough. I don't want to register on the porky index any more than I have to, and saying this reminds me of Sparkling's comment.

Maybe the manufacturers of fat food can get together and somehow make it a bit more healthy for everyone. Add a few more vegetables, remove the fat. Or something of this nature. It's hard work and I got to think about something else and write something else more interesting. Blow me down there's a flying pig.

Moody Bear

The past few days I've been a moody bear, biting heads off wherever I go. I can't open my mouth without insulting people, and so do my best to keep it closed. Which works most of the time. But I think I am coming out of it and at this very moment am even getting quite chilled. Which is probably down to the diet coke and dark rum. The world just seems a much better place at times.

I must admit to getting fed up with the pub, especially when some of the character's there I just don't like. In a way it's self punishment for me when I go. I don't understand, why go to the pub if you're going to be sitting near someone you think is an ass. It must be I'm a bit of an ass as well. It's true I am. But I promise not to say it again, just in case it gets read over too many times. I can see Sparkling, as she prints it off these words, frames them and points to it with glea whenever she feels the need to prove her point. Sparkling is smart in this way. (memo to self, do not open a half frozen mini diet coke bottle again, because it spurts all over you). It is nice to be slightly dizzy. I feel sorry for some people, because in the fish factory there's them who don't even drink at all, yes! Some have never drunk alcohol in their entire life. What a shame, I wonder if they could be persuaded? It don't have to be much, just a small amount and I'm sure they'd enjoy the experience. So while the alcohol kicks in I chill out and enjoy my slightly intoxicated experience. I mean it would be immoral to even try and coax a teetotaler to have a little drink. Shame, but don't stop you thinking about it. Oops slightly too much rum there.

Damn just realised diet coke is on my keyboard. (A moment passes) OK licked it off should be alright, providing it don't get sticky. But it is diet, so hasn't the same sugar as normal coke. See quiet calm, whilst under normal Bear attitude I'd go nuts. It must be the alcohol. Blimey do I know I've stuck my foot in my mouth or what because of my moody Bear head. Yes. Try to forget it I think to myself. And stay out of the way of the person I've offended, maybe for a week. At least. Foot in mouth disease just comes along as well when I'm moody. Thankfully I mostly been OK and haven't killed too many people. Fortunately after watch the Dexter TV series I now know the procedure of how to cover up after me. Lots of plastic sheeting, tape and a boat to drop off body parts in the sea. Unfortunately I don't think the same current exists on the Thames.

Gym and Bourbons

I actually went to the gym this evening, after about 8 or 9 weeks of abstinence. It was amazing to see how many fat people were there all doing their best to start a new year with a new resolution and try to keep to it. The usual beautiful people were also about, but I got the impression many of them had either come in some time earlier or had gone somewhere else, while the fatties took over. I was not up to any hard work myself. Preferring to do a little cycling while watching the Simpsons on TV, a little rowing and not much else, only just breaking a sweat. But at least I went. My recovery involved a packet of Bourbon biscuits, a Danish pastry and about three cups of tea. The thing with exercise is it don't arf make you hungry. I may have piled on more calories than I burnt up on this occasion, but at least it is a start. The next time I go it will be a little later, and when I get home there will be no more biscuits left, because I've nearly eaten them up.

I got ignored while Sparkling took on a party

I went over to East London today checking out a computer fair. Where you'd expect the price of such things to be a little cheaper than the shops, but nope. It seems to me Amazon does the best deals around. I went with the Little Oriental fella, who is into computer stuff being as he builds and repairs them for a living. While waiting for various trains to get there we'd chat, or rather I did my best to try and get him engaged in a conversation, which is difficult. Unfortunately at times when I was trying to chat I just couldn't help but feel he was not listening. He'd be easily distracted by other things, it was almost like having a four year old child who was in a world of their own. While chatting on one platform a man who just arrived at the platform began to swear as he looked up at the indicator board and saw the next train was delayed. Personally I think people likes this are members of the moron group so I ignored him and tried to continue my conversation with the Oriental. But, the Oriental was distracted and then no longer listened to a word I said. I walked 50 yards up the platform and just left him there. Oriental man then had a short conversation with moron man about the delayed train. I wandering why I bothered and really did feel if I had just walked away and got on another train he would not of noticed at all. Why on earth have enemies when you got friends I ask. Perhaps if I had jumped up and down like a moron swearing for no reason at all I'd of got a chat.

Sparkling just gave me news of her having to watch over a childrens party. In which there were 75 kids present. And a handful of adults. She had a great time, except for the broken window and druggies suddenly being attracted to the open community building. It sounds like the druggies were fine being stoned out of their heads whilst the kids were manic. One of the expected helpers had to leave early because she was suffering from the day before, a little too much of a drink. Hopefully, next time there will be more helpers. I can't imagine how much energy so many kids would have, now if only there was a energy device which could capture all of their running and jumping and dancing and screaming, I'm sure such a thing could probably light up an entire city. Sounds a bit like the film Monsters Inc.

Buy two get one free

I caste my eye over a tabloid today, and there was an advert smacking me squrely in the face. It was for thermal gloves. They were made from a material which generates heat while being worn and so helps joint movement. But it wasn't so much their function which interested me, it was the red star which said "buy two and get one free." Well normally two gloves would be useful, especially for those beings with two hands, however how many people have three hands? Who would be using the third glove? No one I know.

Pay day arrives and food gravitates towards me

It's good when payday comes around, an envelope arrives with last month's hard graft and the wonder of how I can make this small amount last. Then there's the bank statements which for some unknown reason also decided to drop on the door mat at the same time. It was like a herd of mail had decided the best safety was in numbers so they all turned up. Though I'm not sure if herd is the right word to use, bundle might be better, but who cares? A bit of personification sets the tone. However, I'll stop at the point of giving the various bits of post names. It would be a little too far even for someone missing a banana or two.

I read an article in one of the national newspapers today on Heston Bluthemental's three episode program Big Chef meets Little Chef, the title is not correct but it's as close as I can recall. The column in question didn't seem to me to be worth the paper it was written on and I thought I could of done better. Quite a bit better. It discussed how Heston asked staff at the Little Chef to cook a fish, unfortunately none of them achieved this and they really had very little idea of what to do with the vegetables. All the cooked fishes ended up not so cooked and quite raw. The vegetables were there just for colour. It's a big shame the British Nation has so gone down hill when it comes to cooking, and this program was a good example of our poor gastronomic abilities. I'll also include myself here, because, I'm sure I'd of had no idea other than frying the thing to cook it. And although I keep saying I really must get a better grip on how to cook I don't. I'm good at the eating part though. Providing there's no beetroot, which is not really a vegetable at all. It's something disgusting posing as a vegetable and should never enter the world of vegetables in any circumstance. Maybe it was shipped over here during the late 18th century as something to please the Victorians. Heston knows his stuff though and probably could do something with a beetroot to even make me consider eating it.

Chrimbo and new year is over. But I can't help but continue to stuff my face with chocolate, fry ups and anything else I shouldn't. All the junk food I keep seeing just has an attraction for me. Either I am pulled to it like a magnet or it just jumps off the shelf into my shopping basket. Sparkling only a few days ago told me I was fat and had to go on a diet or health food kick. Well it's not happening at the moment. I blame it on the cold weather and needing something comforting. I know I'm getting fat as my jeans now grown each time I slip them on and they feel tight. So I just loosen my belt in response. Odd but there is always a solution. I read in my diary a saying which went along the lines of "it takes more brains to find the solutions to the problems we create" which is quite true if you think of global warming. As for overweight fat men, I think fewer bananas is the answer.

The A, B, C of a prospective author

I've had a fancy for many years at writing, hence not actually doing it but coming close by doing the odd blog. Although more frequently I hope for 2009. One thing I've thought about in helping me do this is to purchase a personal Dictaphone. Then just talk into it like a diary. Noting events and situations which come to mind, or just ideas. I have no idea how they would all be strung together into something cohesive, it just seems a good notion, as I'm not actually getting round to writing anything. Other than this.

Where do you start on such things? I've considered a storyline should be first, then possibly chapters broken down and then the actual writing of each chapter. This method however seems non spontaneous and artificial, but it does sound thought out, and you can always tell a good thought out storyline. It just adds up. Alternatively there's the possibility of just sitting down and writing with no story in mind, no direction and seeing what happens. Yet doing this means becoming committed to the story no matter what it is from the start,and the first few pages will dictate it. The whole thing could end up being a complete mess with no direction as against the story line first method. The subject matter is another item to consider. The best stories are written by authors who know what they are writing about. Harper Lee for instance. Her father was an actual lawyer. Ken Kelsey, he did work in a mental institution or George Orwell who really was a tramp wondering around Paris working where he could. The greats, come from an elaboration of first hand knowledge. Their books flow and are captivating.

Another thing is reading books stops you from writing your own. I wonder on a quote I once heard along the lines of "reading is the Devil to writing" not just because of the time it takes but also the possibility of cryptamnesia. Where you read something and then regurgitate what you've read some time later thinking it is your own but was actually a memory of something read. Further writing your own book as got to be a single minded determination, which is a test of self will power and how to manage time. After all there is only so much time each individual has on this planet. A book something where an author has sold their time to the reader, and effectively sold part of their self. It has to be personal, otherwise it's not real. I heard somewhere Dotstoyovsky found buildings or places which were going to be represented in his novels. He'd further get into character and go to these places acting out what he was going to write. I wonder if Kafka did, now he'd surely have been crazy if this were the case. Then again talking of crazy, the spooky crazy in the mind of King would probably have him committed to a mental institution. So perhaps writing can be a destabilising thing to do. Unless you have a rudder and a star chart to go by.

I don't know if this is just a fanciful dream. I do know many people have the same hope, to one day put pen to paper or rather fingers to keyboard and see what happens. Perhaps it is something not everyone can do. There's one rumour if you were to put enough monkeys in a room with enough typewriters they would be able to write all of Shakespeare's plays. Then I suppose you would have to be a bit nuts to believe that, where is my banana?

Offspring and mobile phones

I'm back at the Fish Factory, immediately after my return from seeing Sparkling. A number of people said I looked tired. It's odd because I slept like someone had dropped an anvil on my head. I can imagine this would of been the kind of thing Sparkling might do, were she friendly enough with a blacksmith. When I hit the bed my eyes closed then opened immediately it was morning. The comfort of bed was missing something, as it always does when I return. The feeling when my arm would rest on Sparkling or the weight of her arm resting on me as I sleep. It's a comforting sense and wonderful feeling.

I've been texted a few times about the naughty goings on of a nearly teenager from the Do. What is it about children wanting so desperately to lose their childhood years and grow up. When childhood should last at least a good 50 years. It's so important to have the little child inside of you and let it out. I try now and again. Maybe one of my fears is I lose my imagination, lose my understanding of what it is to be young, of having those so strong emotions you just can not always control them, or having to face the pain of entering into adulthood and not the adequate support of a caring parent. Rock Chick is very lucky. However, being a parent is no mean fete of reality, it's the toughest job on earth. Some give up. I know this for sure. Only today while in a lift I overheard a conversation in which a man said he was glad his teenage son had gone. How he'd kicked the 18 year old out because of alcohol and drugs. I thought this was so sad. Should I of said something I wondered, but decided not to, because my words would of been a double edged sword. Along the lines of "it must be sad as a parent when your off spring turns out like that" because I thought his parenting was partly to blame no matter what his son was like. How much time had this man spent showing his love to his son rather than giving up on him? We all need support and love through our entire life.

I'm trying to get to grips with my new mobile phone. It's frustrating having to understand all the menu's and whether I need them. The battery life is a lot shorter than my old phone lasting about 2 days, whilst my old one lasted a good week. I'll just have to get into the habit of making sure I turn it off. So for the moment I carry two phones about. It's a period of transition I told a colleague. I don't know what I am doing, but I'll have to say goodbye to the old one at some point, perhaps. How on earth do people change their phone every year I ask. Well at least I've been saving the environment keeping mine as long as I have, about 5 or 6 years I think. I also have thought perhaps mobile phone technology will go retro and the old one will come back into fashion. I'll just have to watch this space and see. There must be some kind of attachment built up not the same as having a kid though. They cost a lot more and not just in money.

Anyway off to bed. Thinking of you Sparkling, night x

Three Days of partying

The January 2009 Do is now over. For three days partying has gone on from early evening to early morning the next day. It is amazing how Sparkling has such stamina she can go on and on partying. Personally I've had a little discomfort with a on and off migraine. Then just as the long weekend is about to come to an end I'm feeling better. The last night Sparkling began to party early then found at 9:30 p.m she was ready to hit the hay. But after 20 minutes of sleep and a thousand photos taken of her from mischievous party people she had to get up. It was probably the flash photography. At this point her second wind kicked in, she lasted another three hours. My only problem had been escorting Sparklng back to the lodge. Where she tried to push me into a couple of puddles. Big puddles, very big puddles, I would of been up to my waist had I not been vigilant. It's funny because each night I walked Sparkling back to the lodge she sang, Old Blue Eyes song New York on one night the other I can not recall. Although we did stop and check out the stars. The sky was pretty clear and Sparkling reminded me how beautiful the night was, I decline to lay on the muddy ground and look up at them and fortunately Sparkling put up with just leaning against her car and watching them sparkle. It was a great time.

On the second night there was a big fancy dress, can you imagine it 30 plus people in various costumes, the Hulk, Batman, Robin, L & B man dressed as Britney Spears, Sparkling was Amy Winehouse and still has the tattoos, Rock Chick looked like an Arabian princess and so there were so many other's. It was colourful and a great laugh, especially as we all traipsed off to the local pub for a drink. It's not often you see characters from Thunderbirds chat to a Caveman but I saw them, or an Indian Lady shooting a Star Wars Storm Trooper. This was not an hallucination, I was not on drunk and it was great fun.

Tomorrow I return to London. It's a long journey and I'll have lots of time to catch up with sleep. But I also take with me a ton of photographs and a wonderful experience. I recomend everyone have a go at fancy dress every once and a while. The more zany the better. Now where did I put my wig, oh i forgot to tell, as my real hair is declining I'm wondering about buying my own. Must check out a web site or two.

Slum dog ate my Ben and Gerrys

I needed an airing today. After spending most of yesterday laying on top of bed with a head drilled by two Black and Decker's. One in each temple. So I went to the local Tesco, which is actually not a little shop. It's big, very big, so big they call it an Extra. I wondered round like a cloud. Flitting from electrical goods to cream cakes and somewhere in there was stationary. I got a thing for stationary, I don't know what it is I just like stationary. Post-its in particular, especially if they are on offer. But they weren't so I walked past them. What however was on offer were small tubs of ice cream. Let me say no ordinary ice cream, none other than Ben and Gerry's, hmmmmmmmmm. I love it, particularly the chocolate. They had cookie dough and chocolate fudge. So I bought one of each, in the back of my mind I considered, if Rock Chick found them at least I'd have one for myself. It was good thinking. Intelligent thinking some might say. As the weather had taken a cold snap and frost lay on the grass I knew the ice cream was not going to melt. Hmmmm. The thought of eating this lovely treat later on was on my mind. Rather than ring Sparkling Eyes on my phone and ask for a lift back in the car I had to deserve Ben and Gerry's, I had to walk back. Which is uphill. I did it in twenty five minutes at a fast ish pace.

Back at the house: I put the bag of goods on a kitchen top, opened them up, and in front of Sparkling Eyes began to put them away. I told her how I'd got a deal on the Ben and Gerry's ice cream and picked up a packet of vegetarian sausages for only a pound. What a bargain! The ice cream was nicely tucked away in the freezer. I even bought a more expensive bottle of rose wine because I thought Sparkling deserved it. We had decided to go to the cinema and watch a movie, Slum dog millionaire by the way, which was absolutely brilliant and I'd recommend it to anyone at all. Sparkling was amazed at the deals I'd picked up. Rock Chick distracted me and asked me to help her with an essay. I read the essay introduction and did minor alterations. It was good, very good, Rock Chick will go far if she can persevere against the odds of bad tuition from washed up teachers. rock Chick was entertaining her boyfriend, Dangerous Sports Boy. He's a nice fella, I find myself liking him even though I've had limited contact. After reading the introduction of Rock Chick's essay I came downstairs. Shortly afterwards I and Sparkling hit the cinema.

We returned after the film. Sparkling almost ran out of cinema with me trying to catch up. She seemed to think I was tearful. This is not the case, there were no tears in these eyes, but the film is good. With child actors who really do act like children not the mass produced American child actors who over act and have already developed egos like an elephant. No, it was good, go see it, and it's British. Which makes it even better.

I opened up a bottle of wine and pored a glass for Sparkling. Then like a slave I waited on Rock Chick making an instant microwave spaghetti. Although not as good as Sparkling's I'm told. I sat down enjoyed a cold Guinness and a packet of crisps. Rock chick made a comment about ice cream. It seemed Rock Chick had inside information, she was making waves about my Ben and Gerrys, never mind I thought there was two tubs. Rock Chick taunted me, she mentioned cookie dough being Dangerous Sports Boy's favourite ice cream. I thought nothing of this comment. After a period of my denial of there actually being any ice cream I gave in and then went to the freezer. I looked. I lifted out of my sight various frozen items. Hmmm. Where was the ice cream? I shouted out "Sparkling Eyes, where's the ice cream?" At this point a semi hysterical laugh came from my mouth. I began to realise Ben and Gerrys was not there. It dawned on me with horror, my Ben and Gerrys had been stolen, eaten, by of all people Rock Chick and Dangerous Sports Boy, but the brains, the conniving despicable brains behind the whole thing was Sparkling! I was flabbergasted. The brunt of my own silly desire for ice cream, I had been beaten by both Sparkling and Rock Chick. As is always the case.

It is wonderful to be both annoyed and happy at the same time, I had repeated a number of times the phrase "I can not believe it" Sparkling had truly got one over me. Now to think of how to get even, but of course in a nice way. Any ideas?

Not so well today, must of been Britney

Sparkling has been wonderful to me, I've not been feeling so well so she sent me to bed. Saying I should close my eyes and maybe the headache would go away. I've barely eaten all day, and feel like someone has hit me over the head with a mallet. Perhaps it was down to sleeping last night. I was told the cat is out, and when he cries, I'm the one who has to run down the stairs in the middle of the cold night and let him in. I slept with one eye open. Constantly having weird dreams. I know they were weird but I just can't remember what they were about. Sparkling told me about her dreams, weird as well. But I can't recall those either. Seems like I have dream amnesia. Not just mine anyones. So yes this morning I didn't feel so good. Perhaps it was the two large helpings of Spaghetti Bolognaise I ate, or maybe the chocolate pudding for four persons with brandy cream on top. Sparkling confessed they were on their sell by date and were cheap. Imagine giving your guest sell by food? I'm told it is my own fault. I eat too much. I do, I often hear the words "belly gonna get ya"it certainly has.

Well feeling better this evening, after having paracetamol throughout the day. I saw L & B man, he is going to become Britney Spears at the big Do in a few days time. The thing is he doesn't look much like Britney even with the wig. And the belly would put him at at least 8 months of pregnancy. Sparkling says I look pregnant as well. In fact it was one of the questions she asked when I felt like puking at the smell of food earlier today. I assured her this was not my illness. L & B man then went on to say he could be turning. Meaning he now liked to put on women's clothes. Rock Chick found this quite funny, I found it disturbing. He went into some detail how he had purchased a skirt and had to cut off ten inches to make it short enough. No wonder I have been feeling ill. There was some discussion about stockings or was it tights, I don't think I can go on any further. The thoughts are making me queezy.

This aroma is in front of me

Did the extra shift of labour, and then headed out for as much as I could eat at the eat-all-you-can Chinese. It was OK though I do think I'm getting used to it now and it don't impress me as much as it used to a year or so ago. As I'm about to spend a few hours travelling on the train I had to do a little shopping afterwards. As usual I can't wait to see Sparkling. There's always a little intrepidation and excitement, although I haven't yet organized a fancy dress thing for the big get together. I'll just have to sort it out tomorrow or when I'm in Scotland. I had to ring Sparkling just before I began lunch to make sure she was OK, and she was pretty OK. I think she thought I might of done the demonstration thing again, but I really wasn't up to it, the demo was earlier than last week and I'd got up too late. I read a paper while at lunch and thought I will demonstrate against Israel's military action some other time. Perhaps while in Scotland. I'll not give the details, but one picture in my paper made me angry, and wonder if the Israeli's themselves would condone this violence were they to see the effects. It sounds like a govenment too far to the right has the political reigns. Enough of politics.

After lunch I happened to check out a shop which had a display of men's perfumes. Checking out several tester sprays I nearly keeled over but each time managed to revive myself to consciousness with aid of an oxygen mask on tap just for such a situation. I then smelled one I liked and thought I'd give it a go, picked it up and sprayed it under my chin. More than I expected seemed to come out. In quite a spatter. For some reason I then half panicked and walked quickly out of the shop. Well I wanted to smell good and not have to buy the stuff. The thing with the one I chose was it's pungency. Lets say it was a little bit stronger than the normal wiff you get just by holding the squirty thing under your nose. As I walked down the busy high street I wondered if anyone else could smell it. I thought normally with perfume or EDT or man smell or whatever you want to call it, it would waft behind. Then visions of a screaming horde of females as they inhaled the unbearably wonderful aroma would go crazy for my body. (You have to allow small fantasies when my age). Well they didn't. Anyway. This aroma was now a pong, it didn't just waft behind me, I swear it was infront of me as well. Maybe a foot and half, because no matter where I went it was there, I turned round the corner and pong was there, did a quick side step and it was still there. I had inflicted it on myself not knowing the real actual spray would be more potent. I'd be lucky if I finished my shopping and didn't have a horde of elephants running after me, or even more unlucky suddenly found it was a dog attractant every stray from all around wanted to hump my let. But it was cold out today in London, with few elephants and most strays had been rounded up. It was maybe minus 2 or 3 so there was no gauntlet and a relief. As a precaution I kept to the shadows and with my back to the wall.

It was a warning. I'll never let my nose get carried away like it again.

I got cut off by my computer

It's lasted a good few years my computer, and it's on it's last legs. I can tell especially when it takes an hour to start up and has given me a thousand reasons, all in technical language why it doesn't want to come out to play. I can't pull my hair out because it's on the decline anyway so have to try and talk nicely to my computer. Nice computer I say, the please work. Still the cogs and wheels spin round and monitor blacks out and re boots again. It's more temperamental than a woman. For so many years it's done so well. I can't afford a new one, please don't crash on me now. Regardless of my pleading, getting on knees and begging it does it's own thing. I just have to wonder what my next move is going to be.

There was no choice in the matter, I had to re format the hard disk. It took forever. I then lost the key, I then re found the key, and then Microsoft decided not to verify it. This has given me now 30 days to make a decision, it will work and then it will disappear. No matter. All good things come to an end. It's done me well. A friend of mine will get me another copy of windows with a key, it will be full OK for Microsoft's purposes. The problem is it still isn't 100%, I still have problems booting up even after a full format and re install. Oh poor thing what is the problem, you know you can tell me all about it, I'm here for you. I even decided to give it an airing, I picked it up, took off the shackles of wires and invited the poor thing in the garden. Then with a brush I gave it a good dusting. You see there's no case and the insides are exposed. Which is what happens when a friend puts things together, not completely, you end up with something not fully dressed. A naked computer. But I been careful, it's been kept warm and I've never ever put my cup of tea on top or near it. Still when it's time to go, there's little to be done.

Off to see Sparkling in a few days time, for an amazing time. I can't wait to see her. I now found it's possible to get a flight direct to her city. The only issue is getting the right price. Then again with the ever increasing cost of train travel I can see flying becoming a feasible option. As for my computer, I'm afraid darling you will have to stay here. But I'll think of you.

How to annoy a Cretin

The thing with wearing a Ushanka is it makes you noticeable. Because being a leader of fashion rather than a follower, I have to get out and about and other people have to see how good the hat looks before they buy one. If they can get their hands one one. I checked out a Canadian web site with the notion of getting a rabbit skin one and found they were inundated with orders so there would be too long a delay before it reached the UK. Yes the think with wearing a distinguishing and swarve head apparel is you become noticeable, which may not be a good thing, even if it does keep my head warm, and if I drop the ear flaps my ears as well. I mention the noticeable bit for a reason. I was able to make someone pretty annoyed today, in fact very annoyed. Partly because of my own stubbornness and partly because of their cretin like tendencies.

I was walking down the pedestrian precinct early in the morning, at a time when cars were allowed to use it. I walked in the middle of the precinct, and was making my way over to one side when I noticed a man had stopped his bicycle so it intruded partly where cars can go. So decided to walk further in the middle of the road in order to get around the bicycle. However, I could see a man in a red Fiesta accelerating towards me. Well I know there is a speed limit and I am walking in a pedestrian area. Just at the point where the man with the bicycle was I walked round the car driver had to stop. I'd got there first. I cursed under my breath. But carried on walking. As I did so I could hear the Cretin in the car screaming his fat head off. It was at this point i realised wearing my quite noticeable hat, I would be easily recognised again. Even though I was in the right and he was in the wrong. So it looks like at some future point in time I might have to face the wrath of some unpleasant, overweight Cretin because he thought he had the right of way in a pedestrian area. Perhaps I should of walked round the car tapped on the window and said "come on then fatboy, wanna piece of me!"

It's been cold in London, I noticed in today's paper in some areas of England it had reached minus ten degrees celcius. The small puddles left from our last snow have all iced up. The sky is very clear and reminds me of a film where a clear sky was followed by super fast freezing. The hat is great. It keeps my head warm. I am on the look out for every fur like hat I see. I think tomorrow I'll form a new group of people, we'll meet up in the pub drink vodka and talk in Russian accents. Or attempt to while trying not to get overly drunk. Maybe this way we can form a coalition against Cretins driving red Fiesta's.

Snow and and ignited fuse

Had the day off from work today. During the night it had snowed. A white sheet covered London, but as I got up late it had began to melt and when I left the house there were barely any signs it had snowed in the first place. The weather forecaster indicates the next week will be very cold. We're predicted minus three degrees C tonight. I spent the morning indoors trying to tidy up my work room. The one where I spend most of my free breathing life. It's a mess. Books, unopened envelopes, old papers, letters to throw away, letters to keep, folders, dust, and more dust. I filled two carrier bags with old books and dropped them off in a charity shop. There was some old clothes I'd meant to drop in a charity bin some time ago, so I did those as well. The cold outside world made it difficult getting out of bed, it was just so warm. But I'm glad I did do something with it. Amongst the items I was tidying up I found an old letter from Sparkling, one she had dated. It was for March 1999. I spent a moment reading it and was touched by it's heart felt sincerity. It was a reminder of why I love her. Eventually I had breakfast and then washed, listening to the radio.


I find it relaxing listening to the world news or current events programs while getting ready in the morning. At one moment I found myself listening to Women's hour. Which is not just for women to listen to, which would be quite sexist where this the case. But as the program wore on I found myself getting more angry with the portrayal of men by one of the guest speakers. She was a Dame. But she was pretty ignorant and self opinionated, she had a view of the world set in one time and place and was nothing like the way I saw it or had experienced. When talking about recession she said she had seen three recessions and made the outlandish comment in her experience during a recession women go to work, men stay at home, become poor house husbands, drink and beat their wives. Her comments ignited a match inside me, which was fused to a bomb. As the program went on, the views and ignorance of it extended so far the only way I could get away from them was to turn it off. No wonder men turned to violence, because I felt this woman deserved to get throttled, if there were violent alcoholic men in a recession/depression this was the kind of woman who would drive them to violence. It would be a self perpetuating cycle and the only way to get away from it is to remove yourself. You know because there is this odd feeling, if you continue on this road the car will crash. It's like drinking too much, or rather catching yourself and realising you have drunk too much but are able to stop it. It takes some will power.

This evening I had to help Sparkling download a different media player so she could watch Dexter. I was allowed to talk to her as long as the downloading was taking place. When it finished Sparkling told me the conversation was over. Apparently Dexter is more interesting. It's my own fault I've seen the last series and told Sparkling it was very good. So now she's got to watch it. It seems sometimes you find someone else can remove you from a situation you want to continue as well. What a funny world. Maybe Sparkling was getting back at me and the balance of the Universal Karma had just settled nice and neatly.

Oh nearly forgot, to settle things a bit more Karma wise I wrote a email of complaint to the BBC. I'll keep you posted if they can bother to reply.

Fashion world now dominated by the cold and hats

The weather is doing it’s up and down thing, where one day it gives up a tantalising taste of the mediocre and the next a cold Artic chill drops the air temperature to freeze due drops off the end of your nose. As shops no longer actually sell proper jumpers, the things they pass off as jumpers are as thin as the shirts I wear, I’m learning to layer. If I carry on like this I’ll soon become the new Mitchellin Man of London. It doesn’t help having the fat hormone suddenly kick in because I just don’t want to bother with the gym and am quite content with putting on pounds and possibly stones. Well, you only live once, a chocolate biscuit is for life not just a cup of tea. So the saying should go were people not thinking of puppy dogs.

The little Oriental man rang me up this chilly morning. His ringing is an event in itself as he keeps breaking his fingers and forgets how to use the phone. But he suggested we hit East London in search of computer components. Or stand on street corners showing our legs. I got better legs than him so am sure I could of got more money, but being oriental you’d be surprise how many clients like a balding and somewhat different from the norm looking pick up. So getting computer bits won out, there just is no way of making extra money in this recession hit climate to tell the truth. I set a time to meet and then fluffed about being late for the train, which in turn meant having to wait another twenty five minutes. No matter. We passed the time chatting nonsense.

But before I decided to meet the oriental fellow I had to make a decision about what hat to wear. It can be difficult because it’s all down to the temperature outside. Today it was cold enough to bring out the big guns. So on went the Russian hat, it looks great and really does help to keep me warm. As we were early we walked up the road to check out a fish stall not far from the train station. Oriental fellow wanted something hot to eat, but there was nothing hot for sale. I noticed the fish stall owner had a hat on similar to my own. Except his was black with the Russian badge on the front, and I have now found out the correct name for this type of hat, it is a ushanka.

It was Sparkling who told me not to go out wearing my ushanka, certainly not in Scotland. One of the reasons she gave was I would get picked on. Someone would think I was odd. It’s an unfortunate attitude people have towards things which are different. But I’ve noticed with some detail how the colder it become the less important fashion becomes to those suffering from the cold. They wear absolutely anything. I have even seen young men who would have their jeans around their ankles showing their boxers actually pull up their jeans to stop their arse from freezing. As for their heads I am nearly certain there have been one or two stolen tea cosies put on top, except for the long tassels and exceedingly bright and varied colours. Yes, the cold weather has a way with making the most fashion conscious shut up and look actually very uncool. But then of course this is what they are trying to achieve, a warm look and a fuzzy feeling.

I shall be seeing Sparkling Eyes and Rock Chick soon, I wonder if they have the same renewed respect for hats as I've now started to appreciate? It could be a tricky situation. If they don't like my hat they will just have to lump it, it is now part of me. I'm going to put super glue on it, they'll never take it off me.

Demo in London against bombing of Gaza

Sometimes you just have to do something different and so decided I’d go and demonstrate. Joining a march to protest against the bombing of the Gazza strip and the death of Palestinians by the Israeli’s. Having worked in the morning and found myself free in the afternoon this was going to be my first demo of the year and perhaps the beginning of a resolution to attend as many demos as I possibly could. I checked out an internet site which gave me some information although a bit patchy and then headed off. Not even perturbed by the price increase in my train fare, I was going to do be active. It’s a leaf from Sparkling’s book.

I got a train into central London and then had to walk down to Embankment tube. There it was packed with people, it’s the circle line platform which heads South to Westminster. There must have been a lot going on today in London, as football supporters were about. I noticed some women with push chairs on the train, these struck me as dangerous, because it was so busy. They could easily become an obstacle to the flow of a crowd, and get kicked over and trampled. Especially in a demo situation, you just can’t tell what is going to happen, whether things will get ugly or not. All depends on those elements with unsavoury ideas. The one’s who would bring along something extra to the event, something nasty. I was warned to be carefully because as they said “the heavy mob” would be out. Meaning baton wielding policemen on horses, though I couldn’t visage this as being a running gauntlet event. Although I must admit to wondering when I was warned what I’d do if I were arrested. I was here as a private citizen not part of any political party and with no backing of a group.

Immediately I got off the tube there was a crowd in front of me walking. I had thought the event was going to start at Parliament Square so it must of began earlier. Probably from Embankment then walked to the Parliament Square and back along Whitehall to Trafalgar Square. I just slipped in, mingling amongst them. The throng and crowd were taking an easy calm stroll. No crazy lunatics wanting blood here. Though some were chanting out the words “free, free, Palestine” other’s had made up little ditties. The noise of people talking mingled into a white noise, a bit like hearing hundreds of ducks on a pond, but it was marked by whistles and shouts. I saw many small children riding the shoulders of their fathers, boys and girls alike. Various Muslim females wore either the Habib or even the full Burka. Small groups of girls joined arms together walking side by side habibs covering their foreheads. Men wore beards, some long and had their religious hat on. Their skin was of eastern dissent, unlike my white pallid look

It wasn’t packed like the tube, where you could barely shuffle along shoulder to shoulder, so was quite pleasant. The air was crisp and chilly with each breath a vent of steam would be exhaled. Some people wrapped the Palestinian flag around them, not just as a demonstration but to help warm them up. Again as though a mark of a family event, push chairs were out, they created caverns in the crowd as people gave them extra leeway. There were banners everywhere and different kinds from different organizations. Socialist worker of course, others had Arabic writing on them. Amongst the bustle I heard Arabic also being spoken. I noticed the occasional home made banner, these were harder hitting than the official logo of “free Palestine” these had more thought put into them. I remember one really brought the point home, it was the symbolic star of David on a white background, but covered in red hand prints to mimic blood. It had written along the top of it “The flag of Israel is covered with Palestinian blood.” I thought about this and the way Israel is inflicting their assault on the Gaza strip, this is the equivalent of a modern day David but having the shit kicked out of him by Goliath as Goliath had a bullet proof vest and helmet, and a tank in his pocket. The sling and stone has no this place in modern man’s warfare. The crowd were vocal, and in their voices I could detect emotion. They were saying something loud and clear.

So I walked amongst the crowd, took photos with my camera, and small video clips. Others held up their camera phones and took pictures as well. The route was as I predicted, from Parliament Square round and then along Whitehall, except being there and being part of it was unpredictable. The exhilaration of it all and doing something active. Looking down Whitehall at the crowd stretched ahead Nelson’s column took on a new meaning. This road would normally be busy with traffic. It’s only a time like this it is possible to walk along these lanes. I took the odd picture capturing a small piece of the atmosphere.

After hitting Trafalgar Square I stayed for a further ten or twenty minutes, listening to speakers and then decided to go for something to eat. Heading up towards China Town. As I reached a gay pub I recalled going in there once and buying a beer for £6, and that was 5 years ago. I was with Sparkling at the time and there was no way I was going in there on my own. I thought I’d be a prime target for someone with my red chequered hat on. Which was made in the UK by the way. No not for me. Walking passed a number of restaurants many had joined the ranks of buffet styles, eat-as-much-as-you-like for a fixed price. Which was a shame because they were quite good as stand alone restaurants. Now all their dishes had a bland look about them, and quite frequently are filled up with copious amounts of sliced onions. I set my mind on the Wong Kei in Wardour Street. Sat at a table on the first floor and had a beef brisket rice, doing my best to dissect as much fat of the meat as I could. I caught the train home and then reviewed my day out and what I’d been a part of.

I thought of the innocent families being killed by rockets being targeted by the Israeli’s. How unjust the world is for the innocent to be killed by weapons. It is not a question of Israel having a right to respond, because they do for they have also suffered rocket attacks. The question comes down to proportionality and acceptability. They have been excessive, and now the world see’s them not as defenders but more as aggressors. Backed up unfortunately by the United States and the UK. There is a lot of hate between Palestinians and the Israeli’s and there is one thing for sure, this ever vicious circle of reprisal and counter war will not provide any solution. Discourse is needed and diplomacy, Israel had the chance to act diplomatically but instead they chose the rod to beat Gaza with. The whole thing is exasperating, will someone see sense one day?

The equator becomes a stone on the first day of 2009

I chose not to see in the new year, as 2009 was born I'd just hit the hay. The excitement was too much for any one person to contain, so I slept. This didn't dissuade others of course. On turning on my phone I found a voice message from L & B man. I can't quote it in full because of the colourful language, it made me smile, two of the words used were " ...old tart," I'm a shade older than him so he can get away with half of this, but I definitely am not a tart. No part of me resembles a tart. I don't have jam on my head or am inclined to wear women's clothes and hang out on corners of notorious roads. So the tart bit is out.

So early this morning I headed out of the door because I needed the exercise and took little Monster Boy for a walk round a man-made lake. There was ice covering quite a portion of it and the birds instead of paddling were walking on top of the water, sea gulls, ducks and swans. I took a few pictures with my camera. By the man-made pub next to the man-made lake there were tossed empty bottles of booze. Just laying on the ice. It's a shame the moron's who went to the pub needed to do this. I expect it was some idiot gene which was allowed full play after one or two drinks. Alcohol can have this effect. Even on ordinary people. I took Monster Boy back home and spent some time with him reading and talking about space. He seems to have this thing at the moment about planets and stars. He told me the Earth's surface was called the crust. I said it was the same word as the outside of bread and asked him why it wasn't like bread then, because it should be like toast. He enjoyed this banter and put me correct by saying it was just a word used to describe it. I then introduced him to a new word "equator" and did my best to demonstrate this with the use of a stone. Which was the earth, orbiting my fist and then he learnt what the equator was. He asked me to test him. He just loves planets and stars. It's all to do with Star Trek and Doctor Who and anything else fantastical on TV. But the good thing is he is learning, learning new and wonderful things, he has a fascination especially when it's put into easy to understand terms. I'm sure he might become an astronomer and be the first to discover Klingons in our solar system. Little Monster boy is funny and I enjoy his company. You just can't help wanting to pr0tect and nurture children, unfortunately some of them grow up too fast.

My next text message of the day was from Sparkling Eyes. She was worried at not knowing where Rock Chick was all night. No message, no text, nothing written down on paper or passed on from any other source. It may have been old year's night but Sparkling had clearly said to Rock Chick she had to tell her where she was. Sparkling was worried, going out of her mind and although she sent Rock Chick a number of text messages there had been no reply. I messaged back to Sparkling it was time to ground Rock Chick, because it was taking the P..... I'd of probably balled her out as well. It's an abuse of trust. What can you do though with 16 year old girls? One idea came to mind which I might follow up on. I'll get half a dozen tubes of super glue and have Sparkling glue Rock Chick to a chair. Wherever Rock Chick goes the chair goes as well. It would even be possible to tie a ball and chain round the chair to make sure Rock Chick doesn't wonder too far off. If she did by chance then maybe add a electronic box of tricks. So she could be tracked. Lets also add a device which could give her an electric shock, not too high a voltage just enough to make her yell out. Oh nearly forgot the automatic breathaliser which would be linked to the electric gizzmo shock device. These things together just might work. She could be located anywhere and if she didn't like it, the voltage would have to be applied till she did. I know it seems extreme, but for some reason at this time I can't think of a sane and simple way to get the message through to Rock Chick. It's almost like sensibility has left the building. My views are a little OTT and I'm sure Sparkling would tell me it's not the way to treat a young lady. But at this moment this young lady has taken the P....