Cat love begins at 3:40 in the morning

This morning the cat showed his affection towards me at 3:40 a.m.  he shouted it as loud and clearly as he could in my ear.  Oliver said good morning and he now wanted to be let out into the garden.  Sparkling has said when I'm here this is my duty, whatever happens Oliver becomes my early morning responsibility.  It's nice to know he loves me but I'd wish it was at a more appropriate time of day. It's both sleep deprivation and psychological warfare.  The greatest strategists of war could learn a lot by studying their pets, I'm sure even a gold fish would have some interesting point to make.

It's the weekend so Sparkling has been working and I've been left with painting the kitchen. In a colour called Lemon Pie.  I have never eaten a lemon pie before and it sounds a little sharp for my taste, but colour wise it is quite refreshing.  Only thing is a second coat is needed and my feet are so cream crackered (nackered) I just don't have the energy to hit the DIY store, walk back and again start painting.  Which is the thing with emulsion paint.  One coat is never enough, the same with chocolates, or biscuits.  There are things I could of done other than painting yet this seemed the best use of my time and I know Sparkles will be happy.  Even happier when the second layer has been added.

At last the Olympics is coming to an end.  The disasters of travelling in and around London have probably been averted by commuters themselves deciding to take this time off work and having extended holidays or better still working from the living room chair.  I've heard it said commuter numbers are down by twenty percent.  This seem about right, as I got on the tube I couldn't but notice there were actually free seats.  This is unheard of on the Northern line at peak travelling time.  No doubt central London businesses have suffered a blow from it all. 

Sparkling allowed me to tag along to an engagement party she had been invited to, lucky me.  But unfortunately I was given instructions to keep it low key.  It simply meant I was not allowed to get myself either too drunk or to dance, even if I felt like it.  At one point the rhythm nearly got me, as my legs tapped away to the beat of the music.  I got to meet Sparkling's work associates.  These were mostly young girls in their teens.  They all seemed to love Sparkling and at least two of them said Sparkling was like their second mum.  I saw her boss, a little man who I know had been obnoxious to Sparkling on occasion and refrained from talking to him about his behaviour.  It would not of done much good and I'm sure at some time he will get his karma come back to him.  It was good to put names to faces.  I'll get to see them in my mind next time Sparkles talks about them.  It was odd as I sat there, being half merry and enjoying the atmosphere how my internal voice kept yabbering away as though narrating a book.  It seemed to flow so easily, I thought if only I could remember all of this stuff going on in my head and then write it down.  Of course it doesn't work this way.  It's either a matter of get it written or recorded or it's instantly forgotten.  The eloquent thoughts have therefore flown away  on the wings of a butterfly.  Very gentle and very fragile.

It's just turned seven in the evening and Sparkles has still not turned up.  I know the cat's biscuit tin is empty and will need some more, he can moan if there's no food left.  Sparkling will likely want some food to eat.  What I should do then is think of making food.  Something light.  Something Sparkling will like as well.  Better go and find Oliver first though, wake him up tell him I love him in a loud cat way he'll appreciate.  As they say karma is a bitch.

Inconvenience of the Big O

Due to the Olympics every second train  through my normal station prematurely terminates, it is then sent back up the railway track to London.  The whole thing seems a little absurd when today I hear there are less tourists and commuters in central London than there have been during any other normal working day.  People are just not going to work.  It probably helps the School holidays are here, however, even commuters who'd normally work in London are staying home in their droves.  A consequence is many London stores are having an even worse trading period than before the big O.  When it rains it poors, big O poors.  It could even mean some businesses go under.  I heard on the radio in one incident, Dutch Olympic games spectators had been advised not to head into central London because of the crowds.  So all they did was living in their tents in East London, attend big O events they had tickets for and then enjoy the rest of their time locally in East London again.  They had been given a fearful story of over crowding and poor public transport.  So why the bloomiing hell is my train screwed up I wonder.  It's all down to Locog.

i must admit now to getting somewhat pissed off with the big O volunteers.  They are all over the place.  They have different coloured apparel, which must represent their roles.  Whether they are the lucky ones who are going to be at the actual big O venue or the unlucky ones sitting beside a bus stop directing people to the correct shuttle bus.  Which would be a real travesty, volunteering your time and effort to something and then finding out you'll not even get to view an event, part of an event or anything related to any of the O events.  Poor things.  Perhaps this was why at slightly before 8 a.m. in the morning some want to be self important upshot of a volunteer advised me not to cross the road when the red man was showing.  What a complete twat.  I know when to cross the road, when it is safe or not safe regardless of red man lights.  It is my undeniable right as a citizen of the UK to J-walk when I want, especially when there is absolutely no traffic on the road anyway.  It is little antagonising things like this which can really get on ones wick.  I thought in personal comfort the twat didn't know what part of London he was in, because if he thought he could continue to act like a twat he'd soon be smacked about.  He might then learn.  I held it all in.  The anger of the big O event and the diabolical cost to this country.  Another white elephant just like the millennium dome, which cost a billion as well. 

You could ask what is the cost of a moral booster.  For the nation it's 9.4 billion, but it's not a guaranteed booster, it's a cost with no guarantees at all.  Unless of course the entire GB team were given illicit drugs which enhanced their performances and conveniently could not be traced by a doping agency of the same country.  Which is the kind of thing I might do were I the dictator of a small country.  But I'm not, so I can't.  Could something less expensive be of use to boosting the nation's moral then?  Of course.  It's called tea and biscuits, or even cake.  Everyone feels a lot better after a cup and something sweet to accompany it.  At least then all you have to worry about is sticky fingers rather than having your hamstring pulled because you've over strained it.  A couple of free cups of tea and cakes for the nation I'm sure would of been a lot cheaper.  Particularly because they would have to be produced local in the UK.  See the economy boost then.  Sugar?  One lump or two?

What did the Athenian Gods think of emply Olympic seats?

Again this Sunday I got up and had a walk, it was good to pound the grass and feel I had enough stamina for another circuit of the heath.  Just maybe I am getting a little bit fitter?  A woman was jogging round in the opposite direction.  Jogging slowly and it seemed odd to me, because it takes more effort out of you to jog and takes longer to recover.  Why not walk I thought.  She was struggling, I could tell being an ex jogger.  Afterwards I headed for home and a little grass cutting.  The sun was out and it was so pleasant.  Should I view the Olympics after doing the grass?  Nah, why break a habit at this time of the morning.  The news indicated it would rain in the afternoon, and commented many seats at Olympic events which were empty.  A complete travesty for Locog, when considering how many people would of walked through fire to sit in them.  This is such a poor show.  I vacillated about whether to go out for a long cycle ride but with the prospect of rain I decided not to, I know the weatherman gets it wrong a lot, but for some reason I seemed to trust his choice.  After my walk I could see the clouds and had a feel he was right.  Were it to rain I'll go and sit through an earlier episode of BB I had not seen.

Within ten minutes of planting my backside on a seat, the rain came down, harder and with each passing moment harder still, so hard I thought it was hail.  The sky was punishing the ground, pounding it into submission.  This wasn't rain with soft relaxing drops which help you to relax, it was heavy, it did not want to blend into some sublime music, it did not want to be ignored.  No one was going to ignore it now.  This was vengeful, a pounding made to tenderise.  The sky got dark and then there were thunder claps, beautiful loud hard bangs.  Flashes of lightening lit up the room.  As if to say I am imposing myself on you mortals, each and everyone of you, take note, hear and feel my wrath.  The tears of gods fell and shattered on all hard surfaces.  Tears which could of been interpreted as saying this is an Olympic day and you dare not fill up seats to see the best athletes in the world compete.  Shame is now coming down upon you, be contrite, show your respect.   All thoughts of going out again for a bike ride were off.  Some other omnipotent beings had other ideas.

With exorbitant financial cost to the nation the organisers still wont allow the ordinary people to support and give it the respect it should have.  The Gods have it right.  Zeus was pretty displeased at this moment.  i sat there and thrust my fist into the air in agreement.  Yes, old man you got every reason to be pissed off.  I would if I were you.  How about raining some frogs, or even fish, a couple of large ones, big enough to fill up an empty seat or two, you'd get a bit more attention then my friend.  He sits down, shrugs and his brow is full of sorrow.  Have a sponsors Olympic drink or snack maybe you'll feel better I say.  Ooops, I think he's now marched off in a strop.  I know how you feel mate, I know how you feel.

The Olympics ate my brains help me BB

I finish at the Fish Factory early, hit a local cafe for lunch, with a Chinese theme.  Then head to a pub which costs a little more than normal to frequent.  I pull out my laptop for the second time ever in this pub, negotiate a connection to the Internet, which is the real reason i came in here in the first place and enjoy.  I'm sitting with my back to the flat screen TV because there is Olympics stuff showing and then from nowhere I am on a TV web site watching the Olympics opening ceremony, yes the Olympics at my brains.  Fortunately it was only a small part of it, both brains and ceremony I watched and had eaten, I survived, just about and am intact to tell the tale.  In the meantime on catch up TV I see BB in action.  It is a little bit of sanity which ran the same time as the big O.  In fact the eviction night was termed an Olympic eviction.  There being 8 possible evictees. But we all know before the program began the most likely candidate is a girl who is a bitch big style.  A silly girl who represents all the worse aspects of the upper classes, a typical stereotype who has typical stereotypical behaviour in every sense.  She'd win the bitch gold medal any day.  I could bitch about this contestant forever. It would not change her or me so I'm going to let it go, just like an Olympic javelin, or discus or some other Olympic object which is hurtled through the air at great speed for as far as possible.

As I said.  The Olympics has eaten my brain and I can't help having to repeat the word as frequently as possible.  I'll get over it once my brain starts to regenerate.  Which could be an Olympic effort.  I hope not.  Going back to Caroline.  I just can't help myself.  If she does get kicked out of the BB household then it will be a little boring.  Her bitchy nature is evil but something you enjoy watching.  She has spent the entire next week's shopping budget on chocolate goods.  With the strong impression she will get voted out.  And how right she was, because there is no way she'd be able to endure a full week with a house full of irate people who hate her selfishness.  At first it seems like a wonderful idea, especially to Caroline, and the initial laughter of being naughty on such a scale is infectious to viewers.  Luckily we are viewers because otherwise we'd all have a lot to say about her, to her, living off chocolate for a week is not a fun task.  It is an awful thing to do.  The result is anger, stewing anger by the majority of the house.  BB surely can not allow such a shopping budget to be endured for the week ahead.  Teeth will decay, weight put on, and malnutrition begin to set in.  I'd seriously consider taking a starvation protest against it.  I got a few extra pounds on my belly, so not eating will make me a little lighter.  Whether i'd be able to endure it I don't know, but the intention most certainly would be there.  But again just think of how much fun it would be if she was not kicked out and then had to endure the consequences of her actions.  We all know this didn't happen.  One thing she is not and that's an Olympic endurance athlete.

The count down takes place the doors open and Caroline leaves the household.  She is shouting with the crowd "get Caroline out, get Caroline out" it sounds like a weird defiance to the world.  Or the voice of a crazed woman who is doing and saying anything so as not to face her own guilt trip.  She's putting on a façade one which looks quite similar to mental illness and barely can watch.  She appears to have no insight into her own personality and the effects of her own choices.  She just doesn't get it.  I can see it was a favour to have kicked Caroline out of the BB house, I now have no doubt she should of been kept in there.  After all BB has an Olympic deviousness to get the most out of it's contestants.  A lot more could of been milked from giving Caroline ever worse tasks than she'd had before.  She is interviewed and shows no remorse, because she has Olympian selfishness, Olympian arrogance and Olympian denial.  How can such a person go through life in this manner?  I don't fully know, except not to give her the pleasure by being nonplussed by it all.  Then confessing to loving chocolate more than anyone else.

Olympics nightmare, another moan - go away

This morning was a nightmare when I put the radio on.  I love serious news items in the morning, I live for them, they are the food which helps kick start my cerebral day. So I plug in the radio, let it select the normal channel and it's a discussion about the Olympics.  Not so good.  A bit unlucky but I suppose expected, I select another channel, and again it's about the Olympics, being broadcast from the Olympic venue.  I selected channel after channel in need of talk radio programs but each blooming one was some version of news and discussion about the Olympics.  The weather forecast said it would rain this morning so I took an umbrella out with me and didn't need it.  But no matter what I did, getting away from anything about the Olympics was like trying to escape from Colditz which should be an Olympic sport.  It wasn't a great start to the day.  Considering I have to walk past a large screen public TV on the way to the Fish Factory.  A TV whose purpose is to follow every Olympic event there is for the general population.  Of all things I will not see the opening ceremony, I just could not care less about it.  Stop the whole thing and build some state of the art hospitals in place of it, then you will have my attention.  Don't get me wrong in thinking I am an anti-Olympic moany old git, I am not.  I love the Olympics.  My love is enormous for the Olympics, providing it is in a different country.  It should be in Mongolia, which sounds like the perfect country for the Olympics to me.  Far away but still watchable on TV, absolutely perfect.

I found out only the other day even cyclists will get a fine if they cycle in an Olympic lane.  I wonder how they will police it for cyclists?  London's taxi drivers also wanted to demonstrate against the Olympics because they have been excluded from using the lanes.  However, under some obscure act they banned the demonstration to a lesser part of London so it would have no effect.  The true fact of the matter is Londoners feel pretty unhappy about the whole thing.  Bile boils when it is discussed.  The amount of disruption it is going to cause for commuters is enough to ensure both the government and the mayor get voted out of office come their next elections.  Reason has not been allowed to be used.  Sensible suggestions have been swept aside as though they have no meaning to the great high and mighty command and control organization called LOCOG (London Olympics Organizing Committee).  If there is ever a group of people who have cotton wool in their ears it is this group.  If people get fined for using the Olympic routes and can not put up with the traffic chaos caused then they will find a way around it.  You don't have to be Einstein to consider the things disgruntled and annoyed people can do, and certainly to miles and miles of road which has special Olympic status.  There's over a 100 miles of it in all, and there are extra special lanes where no authorised persons can go.  It's all the brain child of a certain ex Olympian runner who has his roots in the wrong political party. 

Hell I just can't stop myself from moaning about the whole thing.  It's like one big moan festival.  There should be a help group for Londoners who don't want the Olympics to disrupt their lives, who want the old normal very busy and nearly but not quite chaotic London back.  For with the big "O" event it will not be the old London it will be a London which will be bought to it's knees.  London can not sustain road closures and special treatment for the very few.  Unless of course it happens the whole thing gets moved.  To Mongolia.  Then London and Londoners will be quite happy.  Bring back Genghis Khan I say, I sure bet he would have a thing or two to say.  I wonder if he likes self-help groups.

The Olympic Flame, where's my bucket?

I saw the Olympic flame today.  The pomp and ceremony attached to it, the sponsors and not very large crowds who waved as it went by.  As an event I thought it mildly uneventful.  I wondered really was this an Olympic flame?  I thought in all reason it could not be, it was a flame which represents the Olympics, but not an Olympic flame.  It's fuelled by butane or some other gas.  Whatever it runs on is the substance of the flame.  A truly Olympic flame would be fuelled by a common material to Greece.  Olive wood, olive oil or some other substance.  I saw an imaginary discussion with people behind the scene and what they did when the flame went out just-like-that with no explanation.  In the Tower where King Henry's ex wives had stayed.  A beefeater on standby pulling out a lighter he had tucked in with a packet of ciggies from a hidden pocket, then lighted it up afresh for the next morning.  I suppressed my inner urge to get a bucket of water and throw it at the thing, the event and all the pomp.  All of which being part of the 9.3 billion pounds it cost.  Big Momma said to me in her own insight, "we have money for the Olympics but we can't buy a house for the homeless in London."  She's right as well.  Quite a few houses could of been built with this amount of money, quite a few people sheltered.  How difficult it was not to swing a bucket over it, full of water, but probably a fire hose would of been better.

Every moment I think about the Olympics and the cost of it to the UK bile boils up.  I know I should just get on with life and let go.  Yet can't help this irrational mood.  Or it could be it is not at all irrational.  Not at all stupid to ask questions like why are so few people actually going to see the events live?  Why have sponsors been allowed to completely hijack the event and hold London to ransom?  Why will every Londoner continue to pay for this event over the coming years?  And certainly in a recession could this money of been spent better elsewhere?  Defo on this point, big defo. Even a shower in the strongest acid known to science would barely scrape the surface of Olympic question and discontent, which will never be answered because it can not be clearly justified.  Shut up!!!!!!

Otherwise the day has been fine.  Sun came out for a while and warmed everybody up.  Birds tweeted in happiness of the weather change.  Then I met Layabout Lad for lunch and he told me about his job working at a Cinema.  It's his first real job for which he gets paid real money.  At minimum wage of course.  He is enjoying the work but finds he is in an ethnic minority, he's a white male.  He tells me of his experiences and how some of them have been pretty challenging.  How he has dealt with them and grown.  It is pretty amazing to see him this happy.  It's not a job I can see him doing for longer than six months at most, he would of out grown it and hopefully will move on.  The cinema is hectic and it seems training and support for new starters is near non existent.  Yet he continues and I'm happy for him because he is happy.  If he saw the Olympic flame and thought like I have then he'd probably have something to moan about as well.  For now he'll just take a free drink from the sponsors, well sponsors are good for some things, but not a lot others.

Feeling better and a sandwich

It is with wonderful delight I find my cold of the last few days is subsiding.  No more do I sneeze every two minutes, no more do I need to run to the supermarket and purchase another box of tissues.  It's wonderful, almost like being able to breath fresh air when being locked up in a room.  Which is another thing, the sense of smell returning again, but oddly I find my appetite is not what it used to be.   I just don't feel inclined to eat as much as I used to eat.  I still eat, but it's the amounts.  Yesterday I left half a pint of Guinness, today I ate sandwiches from the shop rather than going into a cafe.  This is a big thing for me as my habitual requirement is to eat hot food.  A couple of more days with the echinacea capsules, vitamin C and liquids and all should be healed.

Talking about food.  My biggest personal dread when the Olympics comes along is being able to get to my local shops and get lunch.  The dread is based on there being millions of additional people about.  People who want to take my seat in my cafe or pub, people I'd call trespassers.  When it's all over I will still be here but these villains will be gone, never to be seen again.  I'll be lucky if I don't starve to death when the events begin.  Ironically it could be at the end of the Olympics I'll be at my physical peak, having lost a couple of stone and walked everywhere.  At which point I could even be a record breaker.  One thing is sure, a slimmer looking me would give even Hussain Bolt a run for his money, especially if there was a hot meal at the end of the track, and I'm not kidding.  Just when the scientists thought running was about putting one foot in front of the other faster than anyone else, it's not.  It's all to do with the right motivation. hmmmm, yum.

I took Monster Boy for a walk this evening around a local urban lake.  It's only a mile in circumference.  He wouldn't stop talking.  He just went on and on and on.  I don't know what he had been eating or in whose company he had been.  Whoever it was they hadn't listened to a word he said all day.  Or possibly for the last week.  It was like he had saved it up and waited till he could spill it all out.  Just having someone to talk to for him was wonderful.  I thought my ears were going to drop off.  I kept saying "yes" and "is that so" and occasionally when he said something which didn't make much sense I'd question it and he'd have to think about whether what he said was a load of rubbish or not.  In the end as we neared his home I said to him I thought he must be all talked out and probably didn't have any more words to say.  Because I knew if he did talk any more then there would be nothing but silence, his lips would move but there would be no voice.  He considered this for a moment or two, and this gave me a short sweet delicious 30 seconds of silence.  I couldn't take any more after that and decided to go.  A sandwich was waiting for me, cheese and pickle.  Guess what?  I got home pretty quickly as well.

London's Olympic fiasco in waiting

It seems wherever I turn there is some kind of media blaring out about the Olympics.  It's not even started yet but already it is getting to saturation point for most Londoners.  This morning the discussion I heard on the radio was about Olympic Lanes.  These are not the lanes in which athletes can be seen racing hard against each other, but rather the lanes where traffic will be allowed to run just of the purpose of Olympic sponsors.  There must be a great deal of these sponsors because the lanes run through half of London.   The worse thing about them is they will be restricted only to officials and sponsors, no other car driving Londoner is allowed to use them.  The lanes have been marked with the five Olympic circles symbol just so people are quite aware of them.  If someone is caught using the Olympic Lane and they are not authorised then they will be fined.  These lanes were not built just for this purpose, they were built with the funds from taxpayers of London and are actually pre-existing roads.  As London is pretty close to traffic grid lock restricting these roads will lead to grid lock in East London.  This subject is talked about all over East London.  On the radio, on TV and by Londoners.  I personally take offence such lanes should exist.  When my hard earned tax payers money built them in the first place.  The total cost of the Olympics to London has been 9.3 billion pounds.  Therefore I've come up with a plan.  It's my bicycle.  If I can find an Olympic Lane near me I will make an extra special effort to cycle along it regardless of what they think.  I have no number plates so it don't matter if I'm on camera.  In fact it's about time we revolted.

Clogging up the arteries of London will have resounding effects.  Commuters will try to use alternative roads, but will then find there is a mass of other commuters also trying to use those same roads.  The gridlock will end up in emergency services also being grid locked, unless they are also allowed to jump in on the Olympic Lanes.  If there is an accident with an Olympic vehicle on one of these routes then there will be another backlog on the actual route with Olympic traffic.  If anyone else thinks they are going to get to the accident spot they have got another thing coming. It isn't going to happen.  In trying to make transport more efficient for the Olympic crowd it could be they have just created the perfect gridlock scenario, it's waiting to happen.  In the meantime I'll get a little pull along attachment to my cycle.  In it I'll put refreshments from non-Olympic sponsors and sell them to those stuck in the grid lock.  Tin drinks, sweet snacks, ice creams.  Perhaps some very non-Olympic sandwiches.  I will not sell any of these items at the extortionist rates the normal Olympic vendors will want.  I'll make a fortune.

While also listening to this morning's news I have heard about how many officials from different countries have been selling their Olympic tickets for ten times the face value of the tickets.  Considering many of these are in their hundreds of pounds the black market trade means some officials will be thousands of pounds happier.  I don't have any,  I wasn't invited, poor old me on my bicycle trying to negotiate gridlocked lanes will not get to see a single blade of the Olympic grass even though it's only three stone throws away.  My only thoughts on this is anyone who has a ticked should first be ID'd to ensure it is the legitimate owner of the ticket.  In the UK we have laws against ticket touts so selling of an Olympic ticket wherever you happen to, and then to get away with it in London may not happen.  Be aware.  I nod my head.  Yes.  Those men with blue helmets will nick you.  I'd like to know what the Olympic Committee have got to say on the matter.  Then I'd also like to know what our mayor Boris Johnson has to say.  I'm sure he wouldn't be to happy and would give the men in blue a nod and a wink to be actively seeking these ticket holders.  Mind as long as he lets the cyclists do what they want to do then I got no problems with it.  OK better go get busy.  Where can I buy 52 loafs of bread?