I had a problem getting up this morning so can only put it down to losing an hour because of the time stealer. Fortunately and unfortunately, when I put my clock forward some how the alarm was set. Which meant it went off and made sure I was awake; whereas, if it had not of dispelled sleep with it's high pitch screech I'd of stayed in my bed and enjoyed longer my slumber. The day was began in a glorious sun, hard and bright. In homage to this phenomenon there was only one option available. On the way to work I'd have a little walk, perhaps a mile and a half to the bus stop. It would add extra variety to my day. I enjoyed the crisp slightly chilled air but soon warmed up. I thought of Sparkling and wondered if she had the same problem getting up as I had. Mind it is cooler up north than down south and Sparkling does enjoy the odd lay in bed, which she will remind me she never has a chance to do. Being on account she is always on call, as a mum, 27/7 to Rock Chick. Not to mention the rest.
It is important to put a little variety into each day where possible. To do something different, whether it is walk a different route or go to a different place. Read a different paper, book, or leaflet. Listen to a different song or even hum. This is not to say routine is a stiffler of life, just to state variety can be introduced in the simplest of ways and make each day unique. For in reality each and every day really is unique. There will only be so many rising suns in the morning, because some mornings there is so much cloud you'll never see the sun. When the sun sets there is not always a sunset either and again the position of the sun is just a bit off than it was the day before. The weather will be different, but similar. The air may have a dampness or chill, or on some days just be plane still. Things happen in their context as they should do.
When I got on the bus I took out my book, which I've read before, it's called "The God Delusion" and began reading. However, unlike the first time I read it, the words seemed to be read quicker as though there was some recognition somewhere in the back of my mind at what I'd already been over. It's impossible for mere mortals to remember every word of a book after one reading, except for the man studied by Luria, who remembered everything. While I sat there and was facing backwards as the bus went forward, I knew the persons in front of me would see the title of the book and wonder. No one said anything to me though. It didn't matter to me but to them it might of, but then if it did I'm sure they would of said something, or were just happy in their ignorance.
Yes for some reason, I enjoyed the morning, the walk, the bus ride, the elevator to my floor. I was aware and whole in the moment, of each moment. Even knowing I was late, it didn't matter and I didn't let it matter to me. Perhaps this means, things will only matter if you let them bother you. Though I know first hand this is not always easy to accomplish.
Tomorrow, I'll think I'll put on two different socks and see if it matters.
*Luria was a Russian psychologist who studied a man who never forgot a single thing. The man for a short period was a journalist. Luria tells the story of this unique person in a book titled "The mind of the Mnemonist."
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Losing an hour and some radical thoughts
Today I lost an hour as the clocks went forward. Sparkling lost an hour, Rock Chick lost an hour, Big Moma lost an hour everyone I know and quite a few people I don't know lost an hour. It was stolen in the night from the stealer of time. But nothing to worry about because later on in the year the giver of time will come and place it back in your lap. When it happens you fall in love with the extra hour in bed, cozying up to a soft pillow and warm duvet. So there are some pluses and minuses to losing and gaining an hour. But it will return.
Most of the day I've been tipping my toes in and out of videos on YouTube and have been entertained by some stimulating debate from the likes of Christopher Hitchen, Dan Dennett and Richard Dawkins. In what is and will be for ever the greatest debate of all, where scientists of an atheistic persuasion take on all the world's religions by using reasoning, by examining closely what are taken as given facts but in reality are not fact at all. Belief without any substance is in this way a delusion.
I have no doubt it is a great and wonderful debate, and every person on this planet should have an opinion on it. Provided they are allowed their own opinion. One Atheist I heard on YouTube his name is Pat Condell said his holly trinity was freedom of speech, freedom of thought and freedom of identity. He despises any religion which does not accept this, but in the same light will defend the religious people the right to give their opinion. However, they should not in turn want to take his right away to state his opinion. He certainly does have a lot to say and sometimes does go on in quite a vitriolic rant. Maybe it's something to do with age or just religious people trying to force their views on him. Dawkins suggests in a lecture I've just seen, atheists should become militant atheists. To suggest moral values would not exist without religion he notes is silly. For people who are atheists do know what the difference between right and wrong is, perhaps more so than believers. I've heard it said there are more believers in jails than atheists. Personally I do think religions can present an opt out clause to humanity. Of the like, if we believe then it don't matter what we do to the planet, because in the end our maker will come down and correct it all. But things don't work out like this in reality.
Being a humanist, is being a person who cares for every single breath of life each and every living thing has on this earth. This is not to say being a believer means you don't care so much. But to imagine this one thing and play with the idea is both profound and frightening. The idea is, what if we only have one life, it is here and it is now. There is nothing else after this. To me this means I am going to enjoy it, love it, and love those people around me and close to my heart more than anything else. It means, if the word holly can be hijacked, then life is holly, being here and being privileged to be alive is a chance solicitation to hold tightly in both hands. Play with the thought and it will wake you up. Chew the idea, let it savour it's flavours in your mouth. Then the hour I lost this morning is put into context. An hour of life, but then it's all perspective. How I see it will be different to how you see it.
Most of the day I've been tipping my toes in and out of videos on YouTube and have been entertained by some stimulating debate from the likes of Christopher Hitchen, Dan Dennett and Richard Dawkins. In what is and will be for ever the greatest debate of all, where scientists of an atheistic persuasion take on all the world's religions by using reasoning, by examining closely what are taken as given facts but in reality are not fact at all. Belief without any substance is in this way a delusion.
I have no doubt it is a great and wonderful debate, and every person on this planet should have an opinion on it. Provided they are allowed their own opinion. One Atheist I heard on YouTube his name is Pat Condell said his holly trinity was freedom of speech, freedom of thought and freedom of identity. He despises any religion which does not accept this, but in the same light will defend the religious people the right to give their opinion. However, they should not in turn want to take his right away to state his opinion. He certainly does have a lot to say and sometimes does go on in quite a vitriolic rant. Maybe it's something to do with age or just religious people trying to force their views on him. Dawkins suggests in a lecture I've just seen, atheists should become militant atheists. To suggest moral values would not exist without religion he notes is silly. For people who are atheists do know what the difference between right and wrong is, perhaps more so than believers. I've heard it said there are more believers in jails than atheists. Personally I do think religions can present an opt out clause to humanity. Of the like, if we believe then it don't matter what we do to the planet, because in the end our maker will come down and correct it all. But things don't work out like this in reality.
Being a humanist, is being a person who cares for every single breath of life each and every living thing has on this earth. This is not to say being a believer means you don't care so much. But to imagine this one thing and play with the idea is both profound and frightening. The idea is, what if we only have one life, it is here and it is now. There is nothing else after this. To me this means I am going to enjoy it, love it, and love those people around me and close to my heart more than anything else. It means, if the word holly can be hijacked, then life is holly, being here and being privileged to be alive is a chance solicitation to hold tightly in both hands. Play with the thought and it will wake you up. Chew the idea, let it savour it's flavours in your mouth. Then the hour I lost this morning is put into context. An hour of life, but then it's all perspective. How I see it will be different to how you see it.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Financiers and morality, lack of
It's been in the news recently, anarchists will be focusing attention on the city types who work in London when the G20 meet. It's all to do with bankers being paid extortionate amounts of bonuses and then screwing up the British economy and then being bailed out by tax payers. But anyone being of even a minute bit of intelligence and a banker (if it's possible) will either dress down or not even go into work at this time. Those who have nothing to do with the financial sector may also be mistaken because of their appearance, i.e. suited and booted cold also be targetted. Who can blame the the strategy blending in or just taking a sicky? I certainly can't. But there is something to say for morality and bankers who have shafted the entire nation. I'd expect this particularly applies to a lot of those high fliers.
One argument is if we chastise and vilify the banking high fliers who created this great recession then they will just pack their bags and head off to some other country. The thing is though, if you were a high flier and got paid boat loads of dosh for selling and buy equities, derivatives or futures and are in part responsible for the recession, then surely it would be good bloody riddance. In a discussion on the Today program this morning, one interviewer stated the government should begin to claw back all the bonuses which were paid to these bankers. Every bank which has been bailed out, which is the majority would have their mighty financiers then bought to account. This seemed to me a wholly reasonable thing to do. Alas the world does not work this way, and the award of short term bonuses in businesses which should look to long term awards does not take place. It is remarkable even one of the culprits to the recession went onto run the Financial Services Authority. An institution which during the entire period of dodgy sub prime mortgage financial instruments failed to take any action warning the banks. An organization which in it's own right should be providing a public service has grossly failed the country. Yet still the world goes round.
It is so easy to get uptight about such organizations and wealthy, greed obsessed financiers who have made a literal killing on the markets and then ran. But getting mad at them will not change the world. But one thing does come to mind. Some years ago a man in green tights had a band of merry men and used to hang out in the Forrest. He was called Robin. Not to be confused with the Robin from Batman and Robin, they are two different people. The tight wearing Robin has been epitomised in our culture as robbing the rich and distributing to the poor. There is only one solution to the greed mongers of our square mile, they to should be made to wear green, put on tights and sing merry songs. Then take up their rather large bags of lolly and re distribute it. OK there may be a few tears to start of with, but I'm sure they would get into the swing of it. If they refused, then how about some legislation followed up by forced repatriation of the ill gotten funds into the Bank of England and then a spell of five or ten years in a cell. With a big hairy bloke called Shirley who has a thing about a man in a suit. Yes. It might just work.
One argument is if we chastise and vilify the banking high fliers who created this great recession then they will just pack their bags and head off to some other country. The thing is though, if you were a high flier and got paid boat loads of dosh for selling and buy equities, derivatives or futures and are in part responsible for the recession, then surely it would be good bloody riddance. In a discussion on the Today program this morning, one interviewer stated the government should begin to claw back all the bonuses which were paid to these bankers. Every bank which has been bailed out, which is the majority would have their mighty financiers then bought to account. This seemed to me a wholly reasonable thing to do. Alas the world does not work this way, and the award of short term bonuses in businesses which should look to long term awards does not take place. It is remarkable even one of the culprits to the recession went onto run the Financial Services Authority. An institution which during the entire period of dodgy sub prime mortgage financial instruments failed to take any action warning the banks. An organization which in it's own right should be providing a public service has grossly failed the country. Yet still the world goes round.
It is so easy to get uptight about such organizations and wealthy, greed obsessed financiers who have made a literal killing on the markets and then ran. But getting mad at them will not change the world. But one thing does come to mind. Some years ago a man in green tights had a band of merry men and used to hang out in the Forrest. He was called Robin. Not to be confused with the Robin from Batman and Robin, they are two different people. The tight wearing Robin has been epitomised in our culture as robbing the rich and distributing to the poor. There is only one solution to the greed mongers of our square mile, they to should be made to wear green, put on tights and sing merry songs. Then take up their rather large bags of lolly and re distribute it. OK there may be a few tears to start of with, but I'm sure they would get into the swing of it. If they refused, then how about some legislation followed up by forced repatriation of the ill gotten funds into the Bank of England and then a spell of five or ten years in a cell. With a big hairy bloke called Shirley who has a thing about a man in a suit. Yes. It might just work.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Mothering Sunday with Ms Novak
With the residue effect of flu I spent the day indoors. Being Mothering Sunday, not Mother's day as some might call it, I then went on to make lunch, roast chicken, with fantastic roast potatoes. And to finish I did all the washing and wiping up, so Big Mama could enjoy the day. It's unbelievable how long it takes to get rid of a lingering virus.
This evening I was treated to an old movie with one of my favourite female stars, Kim Novak. Made in 1962 and co stared Jack Lemmon. It was called The Notorious Landlady, made in black and white and pretty entertaining in comparison to a lot of codswallop which is passed of as movies now days. Novak looked fantastic. I read a little about her and was surprised to find she went out with Sammy Davies Jr for a year. She got bad publicity for it, because America at the time was suffering from a worse racial prejudice than it does today. The film was set in London which made it all the more appealing, especially seeing the odd clips of cars and traffic. So there is some minor historical appeal. Apparently Ms Novak was the film makers response to Marilyn Monroe, I can see this. She played a great part in Vertigo, very fetching. Anyway enough of Ms Novak, for the time being.
Roast potatoes are a pretty close second.
This evening I was treated to an old movie with one of my favourite female stars, Kim Novak. Made in 1962 and co stared Jack Lemmon. It was called The Notorious Landlady, made in black and white and pretty entertaining in comparison to a lot of codswallop which is passed of as movies now days. Novak looked fantastic. I read a little about her and was surprised to find she went out with Sammy Davies Jr for a year. She got bad publicity for it, because America at the time was suffering from a worse racial prejudice than it does today. The film was set in London which made it all the more appealing, especially seeing the odd clips of cars and traffic. So there is some minor historical appeal. Apparently Ms Novak was the film makers response to Marilyn Monroe, I can see this. She played a great part in Vertigo, very fetching. Anyway enough of Ms Novak, for the time being.
Roast potatoes are a pretty close second.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Sounding a bit horse
Today I ventured out, and walked to the shops, well the paracetamol has nearly dried up and fresh air is supposed to be good for you. Except it felt like I was drunk, swaying from one side of the pavement to the other, pillow to post, back and forth then the odd bout of coughing. The glue ear has about disappeared, but still a mild sore throat and waking up with a headache. The walk did me good and I promised myself not to turn on the TV or even log onto the Internet until after mid day. It worked. I read a few pages from a book I've got on the go and tried to remind myself the value of intellectual stimulation from good reading material. Perhaps it was the fresh air as well, brain cells run faster with fresh air.
Just spoken to Sparkling on the phone and she now has a horse speech I've not heard for a long time. However, she don't have a sore throat which is good news. Rock Chick picked up the phone first and could not believe it was me speaking, to my detriment all she seemed to do was laugh, between my own horse voice and coughing. How cruel can someone get, considering the germs probably originated from Rock Chick and Dangerous Sports lad. They in turn spread them to Sparkling and Sparkling spread them to me. It's a what's mine is yours situation, of course the reverse happens as well. I kept the conversation with Sparkling to a minimum because I was feeling guilty oft making her throat worse. She has to work again tomorrow. I don't know if I will be able to make it to the fish factory, I'll just have to see how I feel in the morning. You get to learn no on is indispensable.
Tomorrow's routine. Wake up, as you do then see if I feel better after a bit of breakfast. Then make a decision. Vegetate with illness or go to fish factory.
Just spoken to Sparkling on the phone and she now has a horse speech I've not heard for a long time. However, she don't have a sore throat which is good news. Rock Chick picked up the phone first and could not believe it was me speaking, to my detriment all she seemed to do was laugh, between my own horse voice and coughing. How cruel can someone get, considering the germs probably originated from Rock Chick and Dangerous Sports lad. They in turn spread them to Sparkling and Sparkling spread them to me. It's a what's mine is yours situation, of course the reverse happens as well. I kept the conversation with Sparkling to a minimum because I was feeling guilty oft making her throat worse. She has to work again tomorrow. I don't know if I will be able to make it to the fish factory, I'll just have to see how I feel in the morning. You get to learn no on is indispensable.
Tomorrow's routine. Wake up, as you do then see if I feel better after a bit of breakfast. Then make a decision. Vegetate with illness or go to fish factory.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Being sick
I been pretty sick the last few days and today it was bad enough to ring into the fish factory and tell them I couldn't make it. Seems to be really hard luck because the weather has actually changed and it's bright and sunny out. I can't help the feeling of being robbed of a couple of good days. Especially Sunday when I would of at least gone out to do something, anything, just to get out. Instead I've spent two and a half days inside. I get so dizzy if it weren't for being inside and close to a chair I'd of fallen down a dozen times. Lets not forget the three days of stubble so I don't look a pretty sight. More of a unpretty sight if such a thing exists. I think Sparkling might be a little better than myself and I hope she is, this flu or virus or whatever it is, is a thing you'd wish on your enemy not anyone you love. What it comes down to is you have to protect yourself as much as possible. Eat the right foods, stay away from sick people and do everything possible to stay healthy. Being ill has meant I've missed out a couple of days on my blog, but be assure very little has happened. In this present state the only thing I can do is eat and sleep and go crazy as the walls start to shrink. Closing in on me. Or is it the dizziness catching up again even though I sit still and hardly move an inch. Yep, it's no fun being sick.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Laugter during sleep
It's no wonder I am not getting an entirely good sleep. Because I've been talking in my sleep, but it don't stop there, apparently a good laugh bellowed from my vicinity. It's good to know there is such a thing as happy dreams. Maybe it's connected to a realisation I had the other day about life. Maybe though sleep laughing is a new phenomena, something which should be researched for there could be a lot of people out there who would like a piece of the action. Were I to wake up in the middle of the joke it could be recounted later in the day. Providing its possible to remember what the joke was in the first place. Checking Google it seems a lot of people do laugh in their sleep and there is even a book on Amazon with the title "laughing in my sleep" but it's a autobiography so there's no information about what this event means.
Dreaming is a symbolic thing, and very difficult to interpret. Part of me feels fearful searching for an interpretation because when it comes to dreams what is dreamt is the opposite to the interpretation. However, it's said even in sleep the ability feel any emotion is still present. So if you are laughing then the dream must genuinely be funny. There's a video of someone laughing on YouTube and this woman actually wakes herself up from it. See the link below.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQm-6guQAcc
So although my existence and popularity on this planet may preclude me from going to parties, clubbing, taking illegal drugs are getting overly pissed; the one thing I have got and other's don't, especially when stoned, is the ability to laugh in my sleep. For which I am satisfied.
Though I may not do so much laughter tonight, because of this illness which is making me delirious. Sparkling is having the same problem. She told me on the phone, and together we coughed in unison, my throat is killing me and I'll probably hit the hay early. Just in case there's another joke I need to dream about.
Dreaming is a symbolic thing, and very difficult to interpret. Part of me feels fearful searching for an interpretation because when it comes to dreams what is dreamt is the opposite to the interpretation. However, it's said even in sleep the ability feel any emotion is still present. So if you are laughing then the dream must genuinely be funny. There's a video of someone laughing on YouTube and this woman actually wakes herself up from it. See the link below.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQm-6guQAcc
So although my existence and popularity on this planet may preclude me from going to parties, clubbing, taking illegal drugs are getting overly pissed; the one thing I have got and other's don't, especially when stoned, is the ability to laugh in my sleep. For which I am satisfied.
Though I may not do so much laughter tonight, because of this illness which is making me delirious. Sparkling is having the same problem. She told me on the phone, and together we coughed in unison, my throat is killing me and I'll probably hit the hay early. Just in case there's another joke I need to dream about.
Friday, March 13, 2009
My throat
For some reason today has dragged by and all the time my throat has been killing me. It is sore, not just sore, it is very sore. Thanks to Sparkling passing on her illness. The other day it felt like I was swallowing razor blades. So I end up overdosing on throat lozenges. I wake up in the mornings and seem to be guaranteed a headache. One morning I even considered taking the day off sick, the thought of just laying in bed and being incapacitated, just letting this thing have me occurred. But I would of got up after a couple of hours, it would of been a wasted day. I'm weary of wasted days, you have only so much time on this earth so it's best to use it. This evening I went to the gym, and there I fight low motivation. This throat thing is pulling me down, however, it has not won out, I have managed to hit the gym with a reduced and easier work out. For doing something, no matter how little exercise it is, is better than nothing. I'm having disturbed sleeps. The cat jumps about at some unearthly hour and walks over the bed while I dose then wake up. I say to myself as I lay there "just relax, be tired, let yourself sleep" so I chill and don't get all crazy at the cat because it wouldn't solve anything. If it's not the cat then it's something else which will disturb my sleep. A cough now and again. The feeling I have a tennis ball stuck in my throat as I try to swallow saliva. I wonder if my jowls are swollen and I have tonsillitis or something. I hope my tongue doesn't swell up and choke me to death while I sleep. No wonder it's is disturbed. A piercing pain goes through my temples hits and then runs away. It's no good worrying about it, I let it alone but it don't leave me alone. If only we were made with two mouths and throats. If one got ill at least we could rely on the other to work.
Sparkling tells me, both she and Rock Chick are not so good either. They have probably given me the lurgies. Misery likes company they say. But I didn't realise this included being ill. Better look for another lozenge then bed. Luckily beds are reliable unless they are missing one wheel. Yes. Mines missing a wheel, I got the fourth wheel and have to put it back in again. It fell out when it was moved. I think I'd rather lose a wheel than have a throat full of glass, a head being obliterated by and electric drill and a cough. Pitty I'm not as reliable as a bed. Think I'll hit the bed now. Night.
Sparkling tells me, both she and Rock Chick are not so good either. They have probably given me the lurgies. Misery likes company they say. But I didn't realise this included being ill. Better look for another lozenge then bed. Luckily beds are reliable unless they are missing one wheel. Yes. Mines missing a wheel, I got the fourth wheel and have to put it back in again. It fell out when it was moved. I think I'd rather lose a wheel than have a throat full of glass, a head being obliterated by and electric drill and a cough. Pitty I'm not as reliable as a bed. Think I'll hit the bed now. Night.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
A rant on education
The value of education is obvious, but there are few who take up the mantle and accept the challenge even smart people are amongst the masses. If caught young enough a child can reap great benefits from education in later years, especially when looking for a job. It is like using the strongest muscle in the body, their brain becomes anathema. So with great sadness may working class parents do not encourage and help their children in this area. I know as I have witnessed this with members of my own family. Guided learning and help has to be done continuously from a very early age. To the point, the idea of sitting and spending time just studying has to become habit and not a tortuous event. It then becomes automatic. Otherwise there is a fight with the other side of the mind, the lazy side. The side which falls into bed with procrastination and games and video's and trash TV. The side which just can not be bothered. Many kids will even say "whatever" or "am I bothered" and when they do they are saying it out of complete and utter ignorance of the future. Of a world which could be.
The concept of the future and the years ahead a child has are like the blind spot on an elephant reversing. If I could go back in time to myself and could have a single conversation, it would be one in which I would do everything I possibly could to instill a motivation to learn. I would map out on a piece of paper a single horizontal line. The beginning would say birth, the end death, and a portion perhaps about one sixth I'd note as childhood. Then I'd state, you are only a child for this part of your life, the rest of it you will be an adult. The educational level you decide to attain here as a child may then dictate your future. How much money you might earn for the rest of your life. I say might because things may happen, where you are in the right place at the right time. But if they do not happen, then your early years education will predict your income. I would encourage and aid in every way I could this importance. I would demonstrate to the young me the poverty of the world, the pain and the hard graft of people just to make ends meet. I would make this happen in such a way as to say, education is a life or death decision. Because in reality it is.
Unfortunately it seems this value for education is not understood or accepted by a lot of parents. Which can make me ask the question do parents really want the best for their children if they don't actually help them? If they don't sit down and encourage their offspring or learn the same subjects their child is studying? And together push for a better life. Unconsciously Freud would say, parents do not want their children to do any better than they themselves, it would harbour resentment if not pride.
A procrastination of the real world would state there is not always time to both sit with children, help them and to earn money from work, buy food to eat, clothes to wear etc. Time just is not there. Oh what a procrastination this is as well. Because there must be time, because if you don't give it time then, children will follow the footsteps of their parents. Their life will be no better.
I understand as individual we all have freedom of choice to make mistakes, to accept or not accept things. But not accepting the value of education is like being an ostrich and hiding your head in the sand. Not acting and providing help and encouragement in education is like a flock of ostriches putting their head in the sand. Oh well, perhaps sand has qualities I haven't thought about.
The concept of the future and the years ahead a child has are like the blind spot on an elephant reversing. If I could go back in time to myself and could have a single conversation, it would be one in which I would do everything I possibly could to instill a motivation to learn. I would map out on a piece of paper a single horizontal line. The beginning would say birth, the end death, and a portion perhaps about one sixth I'd note as childhood. Then I'd state, you are only a child for this part of your life, the rest of it you will be an adult. The educational level you decide to attain here as a child may then dictate your future. How much money you might earn for the rest of your life. I say might because things may happen, where you are in the right place at the right time. But if they do not happen, then your early years education will predict your income. I would encourage and aid in every way I could this importance. I would demonstrate to the young me the poverty of the world, the pain and the hard graft of people just to make ends meet. I would make this happen in such a way as to say, education is a life or death decision. Because in reality it is.
Unfortunately it seems this value for education is not understood or accepted by a lot of parents. Which can make me ask the question do parents really want the best for their children if they don't actually help them? If they don't sit down and encourage their offspring or learn the same subjects their child is studying? And together push for a better life. Unconsciously Freud would say, parents do not want their children to do any better than they themselves, it would harbour resentment if not pride.
A procrastination of the real world would state there is not always time to both sit with children, help them and to earn money from work, buy food to eat, clothes to wear etc. Time just is not there. Oh what a procrastination this is as well. Because there must be time, because if you don't give it time then, children will follow the footsteps of their parents. Their life will be no better.
I understand as individual we all have freedom of choice to make mistakes, to accept or not accept things. But not accepting the value of education is like being an ostrich and hiding your head in the sand. Not acting and providing help and encouragement in education is like a flock of ostriches putting their head in the sand. Oh well, perhaps sand has qualities I haven't thought about.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Big toe goes to teen land
Kicked my toe coming home tonight, the same one I happened to kick in Sparkling's garden, the one which is painful even if I kick it and nothing is wrong. It now hurts, and I limped back. I'm the one legged limping man, no the two legged man with a limp. If I had one leg I'd be the one legged hopping man. The pain, the pain of it. Ouch.
When considering yesterday's gripe about teenagers I began to wonder what it was like for myself as a teenager and I even recall how my mum and dad used to talk about the days when they were young. It's like there is a built in affinity to reminisce on days gone past and of course state something along the lines of "they never had it so good nowadays" which of course is true. Providing all things are equal teenagers of today are being bought up in a world more advanced than it was yesterday. Where there are more electrical devices to save time and effort and to entertain. Where transportation has had a few more years to develop with better roads, rails, sea routes and planes. So all things equal, things will be easier and require less effort than they used to, but the same growing pangs are there, the same hormones, same frustrations of peer pressure and friction between wills of parents and teenager. There are other more modern day dangers which arise in a more modern society which go hand in hand with advances in technology. For instance, easier cheating on essay writing and plagiarism using the web. Easy contact by email and text when it is not wanted. Then there is the change in societal values, fashion and cultures. Especially of cultures imported or adopted here which are contrary to our own indigenous one. Be this the use of the English language, body language or different cultural norms which cause friction. So Although teenagers are growing up in a less effort requiring world and it will be a more complicated than the one of their parents.
Coming from a working class background money was the major issue of my upbringing. It ruled every aspect of life. What food would be on the table, whether there would be fruit during the week, if shoes could last out a little longer before a new pair was bought. As for toys for Christmas we could forget anything which had been advertised on TV. Fashion was not a big item to worry about because every other working class family was the same. Although there was the odd kid who wore better clothes than the rest which in our eyes just made them Nancies. My hair was long because of the cost to get it cut. I was lucky my parents didn't do home hair cuts, the kids who did have home cuts were always recognizable. We had to pay for our own bus fair unlike today in London where kids up to 14 years old get travel for free. The biggest highlight would be going to the cinema and to watch the Saturday special. Bed was early even though you never felt tired, and parents rowed. There was no help with homework, no encouragement to better my education. So I turned out a div. To tell the truth I hated school. The overly large class sizes, averaging 33-38 pupils and one teacher. They were cramped. Some of the teachers were crap. The odd one OK, and the weak ones became fodder. If the nature versus nurture debate were ever in question the upbringing of working class kids in a society against anyone considered middle or upper class was the thing to make them disadvantaged. Then when it came to leaving school the pressure was on, it was enormous, it was find a job and if I didn't I'd be kicked out. Quite vocally put. When unemployed most of my income went towards paying my keep, leaving very little for myself to do anything at all. First job was then guaranteed to be poorly paid, long hours and soul destroying. It was at this point education finally had a salient value to me.
Bloody sad. So it is with no wonder I try to influence those growing up family members I can, and it is with equal sadness the light isn't switched on. But we each of us have the one painful rite, it is the rite to make our own mistakes. Even when others tell us before we make them, it is our own obstinate rite to be ass holes. Then reflect when older and wish we had done differently. If someone ever says they have no regrets in life, you know they are a liar. It is part of life to make mistakes, regret and hopefully learn. These lessons are not taught in class unfortunately. I must learn not to kick my toe.
When considering yesterday's gripe about teenagers I began to wonder what it was like for myself as a teenager and I even recall how my mum and dad used to talk about the days when they were young. It's like there is a built in affinity to reminisce on days gone past and of course state something along the lines of "they never had it so good nowadays" which of course is true. Providing all things are equal teenagers of today are being bought up in a world more advanced than it was yesterday. Where there are more electrical devices to save time and effort and to entertain. Where transportation has had a few more years to develop with better roads, rails, sea routes and planes. So all things equal, things will be easier and require less effort than they used to, but the same growing pangs are there, the same hormones, same frustrations of peer pressure and friction between wills of parents and teenager. There are other more modern day dangers which arise in a more modern society which go hand in hand with advances in technology. For instance, easier cheating on essay writing and plagiarism using the web. Easy contact by email and text when it is not wanted. Then there is the change in societal values, fashion and cultures. Especially of cultures imported or adopted here which are contrary to our own indigenous one. Be this the use of the English language, body language or different cultural norms which cause friction. So Although teenagers are growing up in a less effort requiring world and it will be a more complicated than the one of their parents.
Coming from a working class background money was the major issue of my upbringing. It ruled every aspect of life. What food would be on the table, whether there would be fruit during the week, if shoes could last out a little longer before a new pair was bought. As for toys for Christmas we could forget anything which had been advertised on TV. Fashion was not a big item to worry about because every other working class family was the same. Although there was the odd kid who wore better clothes than the rest which in our eyes just made them Nancies. My hair was long because of the cost to get it cut. I was lucky my parents didn't do home hair cuts, the kids who did have home cuts were always recognizable. We had to pay for our own bus fair unlike today in London where kids up to 14 years old get travel for free. The biggest highlight would be going to the cinema and to watch the Saturday special. Bed was early even though you never felt tired, and parents rowed. There was no help with homework, no encouragement to better my education. So I turned out a div. To tell the truth I hated school. The overly large class sizes, averaging 33-38 pupils and one teacher. They were cramped. Some of the teachers were crap. The odd one OK, and the weak ones became fodder. If the nature versus nurture debate were ever in question the upbringing of working class kids in a society against anyone considered middle or upper class was the thing to make them disadvantaged. Then when it came to leaving school the pressure was on, it was enormous, it was find a job and if I didn't I'd be kicked out. Quite vocally put. When unemployed most of my income went towards paying my keep, leaving very little for myself to do anything at all. First job was then guaranteed to be poorly paid, long hours and soul destroying. It was at this point education finally had a salient value to me.
Bloody sad. So it is with no wonder I try to influence those growing up family members I can, and it is with equal sadness the light isn't switched on. But we each of us have the one painful rite, it is the rite to make our own mistakes. Even when others tell us before we make them, it is our own obstinate rite to be ass holes. Then reflect when older and wish we had done differently. If someone ever says they have no regrets in life, you know they are a liar. It is part of life to make mistakes, regret and hopefully learn. These lessons are not taught in class unfortunately. I must learn not to kick my toe.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A rant on teenagers and their alien makers
Well headed back on the train to London and had the company for a short while of Revenues woman. She was going on a training exercise of some kind but didn't know what it was about. Seemed like she'd not even been given an agenda. So much for organizational efficiency.
Odd how on the return trip time goes a little quicker, usually I close my eyes and dose off to sleep for an hour or two and Kapow before I know it London has arrived. But of course it's all relative. Time is the same it just depends what you're doing, or expecting, or what have you. Half way I began listening to some Snow Patrol and felt sad, real sad. Pangs of Sparkling had hit me. I over come it before becoming a blubbering fool in the middle of a half carriage of people. All I can say is Sparkling makes me very happy and feeling lucky. She is wonderful. Though I really must admit giving her the bull shit button early was a mistake. I heard it punched a few times. And I didn't really think I was much of a B.S. talker. Sparkling must think otherwise. But I did use it once or twice on her to, it helps if you sit next to it at the time.
Rock Chick started the day with an inability to hit school. The effort to finish off her education which is only a few more weeks is taking it's toll. After this life will never be the same. It don't matter how much Sparkling tries to reason with Rock or how much anyone else does, Rock just has this averse ability to attend classes. Personally I'd of thought the amount of grief she has to put up with it's better to go to school than hop it. I can't help going crazy over it as well. I wish school paid me an EMA when I stayed on, by itself it would of being a pretty good incentive. Well with school ending this summer it will mean she had better take a serious look for a job to fill in the time.
Sometimes I feel so old or out of touch or just very, very frustrated at teenagers. When the opportunities for study are there and they don't understand what they are being given. But as I've said, it all comes down to motivation, motivation inside the individual. You can't inject someone with your own motivation, they have to find theirs. And it don't grow on a motivation tree in the garden where you can go and eat some fruit and be eager to carry on. Perhaps it's because motivation only comes from being self directed and making mistakes. In comparision to school work is tough. Work is very tough, and your can't live without earning money. Every single teenage kid should be made to work, given real work suitable for their abilities. As a teenager, these abilities would probably be low. Sweeping up, or picking up leaves, or something. Yep, something difficult, demeaning and tough. It should be compulsory and then they make a decision whether to continue with this work or get an education. I bet ninety per cent of them would take the easier option and go back to education. But they don't know how easier education is until they have worked. It's almost a Catch 22 situation. It's so sad when you want better for them and they just don't get it. They just don't understand there is no light being switched on, short term gratification is what matters.
OK enough of my rant, teenagers I think were made on a different planet and sometime during a child's growing up they are kidnapped by aliens and the teenager is put in their place. They are made differently. Sensibility is not a part of their ongoing vocabulary, they know it in theory but in reality the lights are turned off. Must be the way the little green men manufacture them, on account of the little men being so small they can't reach the light sockets, so all the substituted teenagers have no lights. Well not all. Just nearly everyone I've met.
Odd how on the return trip time goes a little quicker, usually I close my eyes and dose off to sleep for an hour or two and Kapow before I know it London has arrived. But of course it's all relative. Time is the same it just depends what you're doing, or expecting, or what have you. Half way I began listening to some Snow Patrol and felt sad, real sad. Pangs of Sparkling had hit me. I over come it before becoming a blubbering fool in the middle of a half carriage of people. All I can say is Sparkling makes me very happy and feeling lucky. She is wonderful. Though I really must admit giving her the bull shit button early was a mistake. I heard it punched a few times. And I didn't really think I was much of a B.S. talker. Sparkling must think otherwise. But I did use it once or twice on her to, it helps if you sit next to it at the time.
Rock Chick started the day with an inability to hit school. The effort to finish off her education which is only a few more weeks is taking it's toll. After this life will never be the same. It don't matter how much Sparkling tries to reason with Rock or how much anyone else does, Rock just has this averse ability to attend classes. Personally I'd of thought the amount of grief she has to put up with it's better to go to school than hop it. I can't help going crazy over it as well. I wish school paid me an EMA when I stayed on, by itself it would of being a pretty good incentive. Well with school ending this summer it will mean she had better take a serious look for a job to fill in the time.
Sometimes I feel so old or out of touch or just very, very frustrated at teenagers. When the opportunities for study are there and they don't understand what they are being given. But as I've said, it all comes down to motivation, motivation inside the individual. You can't inject someone with your own motivation, they have to find theirs. And it don't grow on a motivation tree in the garden where you can go and eat some fruit and be eager to carry on. Perhaps it's because motivation only comes from being self directed and making mistakes. In comparision to school work is tough. Work is very tough, and your can't live without earning money. Every single teenage kid should be made to work, given real work suitable for their abilities. As a teenager, these abilities would probably be low. Sweeping up, or picking up leaves, or something. Yep, something difficult, demeaning and tough. It should be compulsory and then they make a decision whether to continue with this work or get an education. I bet ninety per cent of them would take the easier option and go back to education. But they don't know how easier education is until they have worked. It's almost a Catch 22 situation. It's so sad when you want better for them and they just don't get it. They just don't understand there is no light being switched on, short term gratification is what matters.
OK enough of my rant, teenagers I think were made on a different planet and sometime during a child's growing up they are kidnapped by aliens and the teenager is put in their place. They are made differently. Sensibility is not a part of their ongoing vocabulary, they know it in theory but in reality the lights are turned off. Must be the way the little green men manufacture them, on account of the little men being so small they can't reach the light sockets, so all the substituted teenagers have no lights. Well not all. Just nearly everyone I've met.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Dry hands
I feel like I have really worked hard today. Done the washing up, hoovered, cooked and even worn a apron entitled "stud muffin" yep my nose has been to the grind stone and have enjoyed every minute of it. I even had an early morning discussion with Rock Chick regarding the episode of which she bought up the episode of earlier and called me rude. Well I said OK, if Dangerous Sports lad thinks it was the case I'll apologise to him, providing you haven't got to him first. Her excuse was Dangerous was a wimp and never challenged anyone, he liked to keep the peace. I knew otherwise. I was right. A chit chat with Dangerous and he told me Rock had already spoken to him, she'd already warned him, so it meant he was under obligation to say nothing. Awwwe poor thing I thought, Rock has got him under her little finger. But at this point he knew did not think I was rude. He had enjoyed the banter.
The cat has been getting his continued revenge, by waking up early and demanding attention, he is driving me potty. He lays on the bed and you can feel his weight, he then refuses to budge. If you then get up in the morning he thinks it is actual time to wake up and needs food, followed by a run, then a half hour later his taunting scream of a meow, bellowing let me in. Yep he's driving me potty. In the middle of the day I checked up on him sleeping on the bed and purposefully woke him up. Hopefully he'll get the message and not wake up too early.
L & B man has offered me a lift to the station in the morn. I asked if it was to make sure I got on the right train. He said it didn't matter what train, any train would do. Awwe shame on him. In turn this evening I've been on call to the whims of Sparkling. After the washing up I even had to put some cream on my hands. Dry hands are awful. Rock wanted me to help her with a supporting statement for college. Then eight hours later she asked me for the first line. The reality was she didn't need my help and she's just got on with it, eventually. Brill.
Well I've enjoyed every single moment in Sparkling and Rock's company, though I can't say the same for the cat. I wonder if I can put an add in the local shop window. Cat for sale, likes food, comfort and attention. Also does a great impression of an alarm clock.
The cat has been getting his continued revenge, by waking up early and demanding attention, he is driving me potty. He lays on the bed and you can feel his weight, he then refuses to budge. If you then get up in the morning he thinks it is actual time to wake up and needs food, followed by a run, then a half hour later his taunting scream of a meow, bellowing let me in. Yep he's driving me potty. In the middle of the day I checked up on him sleeping on the bed and purposefully woke him up. Hopefully he'll get the message and not wake up too early.
L & B man has offered me a lift to the station in the morn. I asked if it was to make sure I got on the right train. He said it didn't matter what train, any train would do. Awwe shame on him. In turn this evening I've been on call to the whims of Sparkling. After the washing up I even had to put some cream on my hands. Dry hands are awful. Rock wanted me to help her with a supporting statement for college. Then eight hours later she asked me for the first line. The reality was she didn't need my help and she's just got on with it, eventually. Brill.
Well I've enjoyed every single moment in Sparkling and Rock's company, though I can't say the same for the cat. I wonder if I can put an add in the local shop window. Cat for sale, likes food, comfort and attention. Also does a great impression of an alarm clock.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Sleep and a cat's karma
Went to bed at 3:30 a.m. it's not my usual time but Rock Chick had decided to have a party. Teenagers everywhere. I and Sparkling had been told to vacate the house. So we went off to see a film and came back when the party was in full swing. I entered the kitchen for some reason and at the sink was one of the lads. He'd just taken the Scotch Bonnet challenge but was only able to take half of one. He was drinking water. I helped him out by suggesting milk. Somehow I ended up laying on the bed and guarding the room from another amorous teenager doing his best to lure his girlfriend into an arachnoid trap. Unfortunately for him it did not work.
Dangerous Sports lad was pie eyed, he kept apologising for being in this state and tried to show how innocuous Tequila is, I watched as he took a hit. About ten seconds later he was in the garden puking. Perhaps the Tequila was a bit stronger than he had anticipated, or maybe it was the numerous bottles of Budweiser he'd drank earlier. Rock Chick seemed to be doing a lot of mingling with her friends and enjoyed the whole occasion. I am sure I heard all the girlies singing and probably dancing to one of Beyonce's songs. At some point they all decided it was time to go to bed and so my bedtime coincided with theirs.
The alarm went off at 7:30 a.m., I could not turn it off and ended up passing it to Sparkling who also could not turn the thing off. The evil red digitised box refused to be agreeable. Consequently the plug got pulled and it solved the problem. However, the cat decided it was time to get up, eat breakfast and be a general nuisance. If I hadn't known otherwise I'd of thought he howled like a dog, but I know he's a cat, the purring gives it away. I figure I had 5 or 6 hours sleep, but disturbed.
Fortunately I've learnt how to pace myself, and am able to do so at times. I have learnt if you can't sleep, just relax, you can always catch up later. Not always, but sometimes. Come morning all would be quite different for the teenie bunch, they all need sleep. The long hours would of taken their toll on everyone of them. Rock Chick was grumpy in the morning but said it was me who was grumpy. Nope my bear was sleeping, so I was not grumpy, but if enough people say you are grumpy then they will make you grumpy. And in those circumstances it's easy meeting their expectations in a self fulfilling prophecy. I wasn't.
Rock took a tizzy at me and decided not to speak to me anymore. Just because I had moaned about an empty crisp packet next to Dangerous Sports lad. He didn't take it in a bad way at all, Rock did. Perhaps she was over sensitive on account of lack of sleep and saw the situation as something it was not. It's a shame such misunderstandings come about. Wars could easily be waged. I got to think maybe she couldn't read me. Anything else I'd say would be taken the wrong way, where you can't do right for doing wrong, so why bother. I'm sure she will talk to me tomorrow. After catch up on sleep.
I think the cat enjoys my company. Sparkling says it's my job to run to the cat's every need whenever I am here. He thinks so as well. To prove it when I tried to ignore him he attacked me sometime early in the morning. News I'm sure Rock would laugh at, I let out a loud yell of pain. His claws went into the palm of my hand, it was dangling over the side. This is enough to make one grumpy. I took him downstairs, passed various sprawled bodies of teenagers on the floor and fed him. In a wicked streak, I decided to close the kitchen door, I knew he'd soon be meowing loud and clear and one of those teenies would have to let him out in the garden. The thought was wicked I know. In reality sounds to me the cat got his own back on us all. Poor thing, he was cringing under a bed most of the time the noise and party was on. Sparkling has mentioned karma today in a discussion. Yep, if such a thing exists this cat got his karmic revenge on all of us. Now to see if he'll let me sleep. Night all.
Dangerous Sports lad was pie eyed, he kept apologising for being in this state and tried to show how innocuous Tequila is, I watched as he took a hit. About ten seconds later he was in the garden puking. Perhaps the Tequila was a bit stronger than he had anticipated, or maybe it was the numerous bottles of Budweiser he'd drank earlier. Rock Chick seemed to be doing a lot of mingling with her friends and enjoyed the whole occasion. I am sure I heard all the girlies singing and probably dancing to one of Beyonce's songs. At some point they all decided it was time to go to bed and so my bedtime coincided with theirs.
The alarm went off at 7:30 a.m., I could not turn it off and ended up passing it to Sparkling who also could not turn the thing off. The evil red digitised box refused to be agreeable. Consequently the plug got pulled and it solved the problem. However, the cat decided it was time to get up, eat breakfast and be a general nuisance. If I hadn't known otherwise I'd of thought he howled like a dog, but I know he's a cat, the purring gives it away. I figure I had 5 or 6 hours sleep, but disturbed.
Fortunately I've learnt how to pace myself, and am able to do so at times. I have learnt if you can't sleep, just relax, you can always catch up later. Not always, but sometimes. Come morning all would be quite different for the teenie bunch, they all need sleep. The long hours would of taken their toll on everyone of them. Rock Chick was grumpy in the morning but said it was me who was grumpy. Nope my bear was sleeping, so I was not grumpy, but if enough people say you are grumpy then they will make you grumpy. And in those circumstances it's easy meeting their expectations in a self fulfilling prophecy. I wasn't.
Rock took a tizzy at me and decided not to speak to me anymore. Just because I had moaned about an empty crisp packet next to Dangerous Sports lad. He didn't take it in a bad way at all, Rock did. Perhaps she was over sensitive on account of lack of sleep and saw the situation as something it was not. It's a shame such misunderstandings come about. Wars could easily be waged. I got to think maybe she couldn't read me. Anything else I'd say would be taken the wrong way, where you can't do right for doing wrong, so why bother. I'm sure she will talk to me tomorrow. After catch up on sleep.
I think the cat enjoys my company. Sparkling says it's my job to run to the cat's every need whenever I am here. He thinks so as well. To prove it when I tried to ignore him he attacked me sometime early in the morning. News I'm sure Rock would laugh at, I let out a loud yell of pain. His claws went into the palm of my hand, it was dangling over the side. This is enough to make one grumpy. I took him downstairs, passed various sprawled bodies of teenagers on the floor and fed him. In a wicked streak, I decided to close the kitchen door, I knew he'd soon be meowing loud and clear and one of those teenies would have to let him out in the garden. The thought was wicked I know. In reality sounds to me the cat got his own back on us all. Poor thing, he was cringing under a bed most of the time the noise and party was on. Sparkling has mentioned karma today in a discussion. Yep, if such a thing exists this cat got his karmic revenge on all of us. Now to see if he'll let me sleep. Night all.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
How to survive a Scotch Bonnet Chili
Last night when American Idol was having a break, Sparkling sprang a trial on me. She had watched an episode of celebrity Big Brother where contestants ate various chillies. In typical Sparkling fashion this had now been transfered into a test for moi. She suggested I eat the Scotch bonnet giving the reason she was now bored, and of course I was the entertainment. I sat looking at the Scotch Bonnet, really thinking about whether I was up to it. Especially as I'd seen a few videos on YouTube, and they were disturbing. I even learnt spice is measured in scoville units. In a few moments to my unfortunate chagrin, there joined us, Roch Chick and Dangerous Sports lad. Dangerous sat down next to me and he thought this was a typical dangerous challenge so he'd join in as well. Personally I must admit to thinking he would not be up to it as he's just a kid, and me, well I'm a man, for men these things are different. In my mind he wouldn't be so silly. But I was up to it, well possibly. Rock Chick was not feeling too good with her recent bout of flu but had to watch. She goaded us to go on. Sparkling observed and I could see her eyes glint as she chuckled. It was the kind of laugh which says this is going to be funny and I am going to enjoy this. Sparkling and Rock were, I wasn't and I knew it. Hence my take it slowly and look at it first before I pop it into my gob.
I got a cup of milk at the ready. Then looked at the Scotch bonnet some more wondering if i really did have what it takes to eat it. At this moment Dangerous Sports lad took one very very brief look at his Scotch Bonnet and then popped it in his mouth and started chomping away. I was taken back. How could he? Just like that, it went inside and he chewed. WHAT! Now there was no way out, I could not sit there and do nothing just looking at the thing because then I'd be chicken. Great the little snot and forced my hand in proving his own machoness to Rock Chick. How dare he, I was the one proving how macho I was, but taking my time over it. As they say there's always someone else bigger more macho and more handsome than the next. Hell, I'd just found this out. Rock Chick looked on admiringly and giggled. Shit. After one or two seconds of additional thinking I then had to act fast. I mean fast, because if I delayed any more I'd be a wimp. So in it went. Then I chewed and chomped at the medium large looking fiery red bonnet. As there was a slight timed delay between Dangerous and myself he'd be feeling the effects before me, and quiet soon. All I had to do was to stay as calm as I could, chew for longer hold the chili in my mouth and do my best not to show it had any effect on me. So I chewed. Dangerous stood up and started doing a funny dance around the room, I tried not to concentrate on him but rather on the searing volcanic pain in my own mouth. I held the chewy hot poison in my cheeks and half wondering whether I should spit it out was again gazumped by Dangerous as he had fully swallowed his own. Damn. I to swallowed. I sat there calmly then I just could not put up with it any more.
I drank my milk, ate a spoonful of strawberry desert rice, and drank more milk. I needed instant relief but the milk was not working. The fire was everywhere in my mouth. My cheeks, my tongue, the roof, gums and it was like acid. The gulps of milk were not doing it. I needed help I needed relief now. I ran outside into the garden, it was cold out there and I hoped by being in the cold it would chill my mouth. I breathed out hard, in and out with my mouth wide open but nothing was happening. Dangerous said to try water with the milk as it seemed to alleviate the symptoms. I tried it. I washed my mouth round and round with the mixture and spat it out. The plants it hit caught on fire and blew up into ten foot flames. Sparkling watched and laughed. Rock could not believe the effects as she sat there quietly while these two men went crazy trying to get away from the taste of hell. This is the stuff the mouths of children should be washed out with if they are caught swearing, not soap. After a while, five or ten minutes the heat subsided by an iota. I then sat down and tried to wipe the tears away from my eyes. After I'd had a good nose honk. I have never tasted anything so hot. The milk should of sorted it out, and it did but it don't work straight away. It takes time.
Time enough to understand I had been so pulled into another Sparkling trap. It may not seem much to eat a Scotch Bonnet, but it is. After the event there were further side effects as I realised there was an alien in my belly and he was now trying to get out. The hard way. I paced around ran up to the loo. Came back down, clutched my gut. Checked the web. It was then I read eating raw chili can result in severe heart burn. Great. I had another dose of milk and at last felt better. Sparkling said she was proud of me, of course, I am here to entertain. But I survived, it's something I have done and I may or may not do it again. But I've done it. I'm now dangerous, growwwlll.
I got a cup of milk at the ready. Then looked at the Scotch bonnet some more wondering if i really did have what it takes to eat it. At this moment Dangerous Sports lad took one very very brief look at his Scotch Bonnet and then popped it in his mouth and started chomping away. I was taken back. How could he? Just like that, it went inside and he chewed. WHAT! Now there was no way out, I could not sit there and do nothing just looking at the thing because then I'd be chicken. Great the little snot and forced my hand in proving his own machoness to Rock Chick. How dare he, I was the one proving how macho I was, but taking my time over it. As they say there's always someone else bigger more macho and more handsome than the next. Hell, I'd just found this out. Rock Chick looked on admiringly and giggled. Shit. After one or two seconds of additional thinking I then had to act fast. I mean fast, because if I delayed any more I'd be a wimp. So in it went. Then I chewed and chomped at the medium large looking fiery red bonnet. As there was a slight timed delay between Dangerous and myself he'd be feeling the effects before me, and quiet soon. All I had to do was to stay as calm as I could, chew for longer hold the chili in my mouth and do my best not to show it had any effect on me. So I chewed. Dangerous stood up and started doing a funny dance around the room, I tried not to concentrate on him but rather on the searing volcanic pain in my own mouth. I held the chewy hot poison in my cheeks and half wondering whether I should spit it out was again gazumped by Dangerous as he had fully swallowed his own. Damn. I to swallowed. I sat there calmly then I just could not put up with it any more.
I drank my milk, ate a spoonful of strawberry desert rice, and drank more milk. I needed instant relief but the milk was not working. The fire was everywhere in my mouth. My cheeks, my tongue, the roof, gums and it was like acid. The gulps of milk were not doing it. I needed help I needed relief now. I ran outside into the garden, it was cold out there and I hoped by being in the cold it would chill my mouth. I breathed out hard, in and out with my mouth wide open but nothing was happening. Dangerous said to try water with the milk as it seemed to alleviate the symptoms. I tried it. I washed my mouth round and round with the mixture and spat it out. The plants it hit caught on fire and blew up into ten foot flames. Sparkling watched and laughed. Rock could not believe the effects as she sat there quietly while these two men went crazy trying to get away from the taste of hell. This is the stuff the mouths of children should be washed out with if they are caught swearing, not soap. After a while, five or ten minutes the heat subsided by an iota. I then sat down and tried to wipe the tears away from my eyes. After I'd had a good nose honk. I have never tasted anything so hot. The milk should of sorted it out, and it did but it don't work straight away. It takes time.
Time enough to understand I had been so pulled into another Sparkling trap. It may not seem much to eat a Scotch Bonnet, but it is. After the event there were further side effects as I realised there was an alien in my belly and he was now trying to get out. The hard way. I paced around ran up to the loo. Came back down, clutched my gut. Checked the web. It was then I read eating raw chili can result in severe heart burn. Great. I had another dose of milk and at last felt better. Sparkling said she was proud of me, of course, I am here to entertain. But I survived, it's something I have done and I may or may not do it again. But I've done it. I'm now dangerous, growwwlll.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Strawberry cheesecake and Sparkling Traps
I am presently enjoying the company of Sparkling and sometimes even Rock Chick, depending if Dangerous Sports lad is about. If he is then he's the only thing Rock has time for and everyone else is an accessory. Sparkling in the meantime has set various traps for me and I've fallen into each one she has set. Feet first shall I add, and adding one of my own doing, which was rather silly. I'll explain.
During shopping some weeks ago I came across a novel device. It's a large red button with "bull shit" written on the top. Each time it is depressed a voice yells out in one of several various sentences proposing something is bull shit. It can be used any time an answer is given and the answer doesn't seem genuine in some way. Now what I should of done was give this to Sparkling midway in my week, or later, because now it is being used against me. So in some respects this is a self inflicted trap, but still an ideal Sparkling type of trap. The next trap was the pot cupboard. Here a stack of pots and pans had been put away in the Sparkling style. This is without regard to tidiness and they are basically stored just to get them out of eyesight. I had to venture in this cupboard. The door opened and they fell out at my feet. About an hour later I'd re stacked and thrown away some unused items. The third trap happened to be a broken window blind which continuously thrashed about because it was broken, whereas my last encounter with it, it stayed in place when the strings were pulled. Now it didn't, it just thrashed about at any opportunity like a conger eal being caught at the very moment it had a headache. Dealing with the window blind late at night just before bed nearly did me in. It very nearly had me delirious. Yes, a Sparkling trap, because if it is broken and I touched it then it is my fault.
In the meantime today L & B man has decided to put don his apron and have an episode of Come-Dine-With-Me. We've been invited to dinner. He's cooking something, possibly steak I have yet to verify this. However, Sparkling and I are doing the desert. A beautiful strawberry cheesecake. Homemade. Unfortunately after checking out the recipe online, it seems the base has takes a whole night before to be chilled properly. Consequently we have cheated. Running down to Tesco's and choosing an already made one instead. We were going to pretend the Tesco one was home made, but in true style Sparkling gave up the information in one telephone call. This must of been in the middle of her allergy attack. When her skin had erupted into a strawberry rash. Maybe the rash was her conscience saying she should not tell little fibs. In the mean time today I have been walking about with a limp, having hit my big toe with some force in Sparkling's garden. It don't look strawberry in colour, choosing a kind of bruised black look instead on account of it coming from a Sparkling trap not an embarrassing being caught out on a little fib situation.
Rock Chick is now back from School and has noticed me. Except to my detriment. I was the one who ate the strawberry chocolate and only left one piece. Now I did want to eat it all but Sparkling stopped me. I had thought eat the lot and there would be no evidence left then she might not of noticed. But she has, and now I have to replace it. Odd how some things catch up where is the distracting boyfriend when he's needed?
During shopping some weeks ago I came across a novel device. It's a large red button with "bull shit" written on the top. Each time it is depressed a voice yells out in one of several various sentences proposing something is bull shit. It can be used any time an answer is given and the answer doesn't seem genuine in some way. Now what I should of done was give this to Sparkling midway in my week, or later, because now it is being used against me. So in some respects this is a self inflicted trap, but still an ideal Sparkling type of trap. The next trap was the pot cupboard. Here a stack of pots and pans had been put away in the Sparkling style. This is without regard to tidiness and they are basically stored just to get them out of eyesight. I had to venture in this cupboard. The door opened and they fell out at my feet. About an hour later I'd re stacked and thrown away some unused items. The third trap happened to be a broken window blind which continuously thrashed about because it was broken, whereas my last encounter with it, it stayed in place when the strings were pulled. Now it didn't, it just thrashed about at any opportunity like a conger eal being caught at the very moment it had a headache. Dealing with the window blind late at night just before bed nearly did me in. It very nearly had me delirious. Yes, a Sparkling trap, because if it is broken and I touched it then it is my fault.
In the meantime today L & B man has decided to put don his apron and have an episode of Come-Dine-With-Me. We've been invited to dinner. He's cooking something, possibly steak I have yet to verify this. However, Sparkling and I are doing the desert. A beautiful strawberry cheesecake. Homemade. Unfortunately after checking out the recipe online, it seems the base has takes a whole night before to be chilled properly. Consequently we have cheated. Running down to Tesco's and choosing an already made one instead. We were going to pretend the Tesco one was home made, but in true style Sparkling gave up the information in one telephone call. This must of been in the middle of her allergy attack. When her skin had erupted into a strawberry rash. Maybe the rash was her conscience saying she should not tell little fibs. In the mean time today I have been walking about with a limp, having hit my big toe with some force in Sparkling's garden. It don't look strawberry in colour, choosing a kind of bruised black look instead on account of it coming from a Sparkling trap not an embarrassing being caught out on a little fib situation.
Rock Chick is now back from School and has noticed me. Except to my detriment. I was the one who ate the strawberry chocolate and only left one piece. Now I did want to eat it all but Sparkling stopped me. I had thought eat the lot and there would be no evidence left then she might not of noticed. But she has, and now I have to replace it. Odd how some things catch up where is the distracting boyfriend when he's needed?
Sunday, March 01, 2009
A multi talented phone
I've found a function on my phone, recording audio. So those thoughts I used to have when drunk or just walking along the street I can now speak into the phone. I've always found it odd how clarity comes along this way. A stream of description. In a time and a place but usually with no means to note it. Now though the means exists. I recall the other night after being drunk I witnessed a game of poke, Texas Hold em style. I wanted to put it into words what I'd witnessed. Unfortunately I had no means, to my knowledge at this point.
Six men who were rather an odd bunch, a dwarf, a black man who drank black coffee, a man who had lank long hair he was skinny and reminded me of the character called Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Another skinny man with a balding head who crossed his legs, one character who had a little goaty beard and sat there sucking on a surrogate plastic cigarette because smoking is prohibited in law now and lastly the greying and amenable figure of a bloke I knew who just liked to play the game. It was a completely weird bunch of people I had thought and I had seen them all sat together around the table, all watching with concentration as the cards were passed round.
When I left the pub two of them had been knocked out of the competition and I survey a suspicious eye on the dwarf who had some kind of PDA device on the table. He lightly touched the screen with a stylus. Although my thoughts of this experience were running along in a clear but drunken state there was no place for them to be put. Now it'll be my phone.
I used it a couple of times today. As I walked down my road. It's pretty good as it picked up the sound of a crow squawking in the background and a train. Although only problem could be I look odd talking into my phone. Of course not, it's a phone, it's what you do with a phone. Talk into it, silly. Now talking into a proper audio recorder, yes, people would look at it and think it odd. Strange.
Six men who were rather an odd bunch, a dwarf, a black man who drank black coffee, a man who had lank long hair he was skinny and reminded me of the character called Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Another skinny man with a balding head who crossed his legs, one character who had a little goaty beard and sat there sucking on a surrogate plastic cigarette because smoking is prohibited in law now and lastly the greying and amenable figure of a bloke I knew who just liked to play the game. It was a completely weird bunch of people I had thought and I had seen them all sat together around the table, all watching with concentration as the cards were passed round.
When I left the pub two of them had been knocked out of the competition and I survey a suspicious eye on the dwarf who had some kind of PDA device on the table. He lightly touched the screen with a stylus. Although my thoughts of this experience were running along in a clear but drunken state there was no place for them to be put. Now it'll be my phone.
I used it a couple of times today. As I walked down my road. It's pretty good as it picked up the sound of a crow squawking in the background and a train. Although only problem could be I look odd talking into my phone. Of course not, it's a phone, it's what you do with a phone. Talk into it, silly. Now talking into a proper audio recorder, yes, people would look at it and think it odd. Strange.
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