Summer

Its hot...

Swear word poem...

Must be wild

If these be mild

Bugger all

Bloody hell

Big arse

Cow!

Load of crap

Ginger,  damn

Oh god

Goddam, git

Jeez

Sod off minger.

And then there's the medium

Of incredible taste

Hey arsehole

Load of balls

Bint? Eh what is bint

An urban word..hint, hint.

Bollocks it's bitch

Full of bullshit

Oh feck

Pissed,  munter

Shit, tits

Son of a bitch.

And then there's these

They're totally wrong

Because they're incredibly strong

Bastard, beaver

Beef curtains

Bet they pong.

Now I take it 

That some of these

Relate to women

I'm Trembling knees

Bloodclaat , clunge

Fanny, flaps and gash

Twat

No not that

Minge and snatch

Punani...

urban heavenly flower

No it ain't it's vagina.

And for the men

It's obvious then

Dick

Dickhead 

Prick or knob

Oh don't forget cock

And then there's words

Too strong to mention

C U Next Tuesday

Some might say

Or of phonic sounds for F and K

Oi you can't say that about mamma!

The fifty shades butchers shop...

Well its been a long time since I did a serious blog and this isn't so, its a light hearted, sensual blag at the popular fifty shades, of which women have gone crazy for, hysterical for and well...thought I might try and jump the band wagon. So if you are that way dirty minded then perhaps this butcher shop idea just might, just might...well you read and make your own mind up. Written on a whim of a social media thread when at a time I was suffering deeply with depressive mind and anxiety and this on that one evening certainly enlightened my mood.

This is how it went...there were four of us in this convo:

A new butcher's is opening up in Mill Hill. It’s going to be called the Fifty Shades Butchers Shop...you will be able to get some raw beef with whip marks, or try a jumbo sausage for size. Alternatively, the sausages will also come in black and are much bigger and succulent. There will be some lovely thighs and firm breasts and for those who cannot afford much there will always be the choice of a greasy bone.

And I take it this is all prepared fresh at your house Mike?? served over the front hedged garden with you own slippery hand!!! Lol

it will be all served in full black leather skin tight suits and chains...

Will you sell the famous Deals very own Fur Burger???? Lol

Oh yes...lol

And Beef Curtain Casserole????

It will come with a free chipolata

there will be plenty of rump apparently

Mick !! this is Butcher porn, don’t get dragged into it !! lol

Said the filling to the mincer Steve!!!

Women will love the shop...I will have to employ MW as the stud manager. We will be rich very, very soon...LOL

ouch!

Beyond our wildest wives’ wallets, we will mike!!! let’s do it!!! lol

none of those whites and butcher stripes and trilby’s...we will have chains and safety pins on our nipples and piles and lily pad leaves.

I'll supply the piles mike!!! lol

• (my gosh, what was I thinking of...PILES!)

there will be a lot of humping to ensure the shop is fully stocked

I am a big fan of the spatch-cock chicken. but there are limits !! :-)

Are we weighing in pounds and ounces or the kinky French kilos???

There will be no spring chickens...

there will be plenty of weighing, just remember who weighed the milkman! Best do both measures because there will be a lot given out.

who weighed the milkman !!! this is getting seriously weird lol

Is this really FREE advertising? or do we do Nipple Twisting in part exchange mike! and is that Tax Exempt?

We'll also need good security because someone might want to Bash ya Back Door in mike!!!

don’t worry it be shackled in chains like the rest of the shop. We will have to have some big choppers so we can just whip out for the housewives.

don’t even mention a five bird roast mick !! that could go really wrong!!!!!

Sounds good Steve! that's the local Footballers sorted on Sundays!!! lol

We would have guests like rock stars for a good ole sausage rock and roll...

(at this point I had to edit out any mention to a certain former 70's glitter star)

Now back to slapping the fat about a bit!! lol

we would have to sell venison cos everyone likes a good old dear

anyway ... I think I might go to Morrison’s for my next fillet steak !

we will be able to do strips for those who ask and offer plenty of lean back...

Takes the bruising out of the Testicle Clamping Steve!! lol

and for those who are that way inclined there will be plenty of salami...

Don't slice it mike! there arses are not money boxes!!! lol

tooooooooo much for me !!!!! i am going vegetarian !!!!! thanks Michael

We could also do a side line of good sized cucumbers and big bananas and firm carrots for Steve

why o why did I comment on this? I’ve been trying for years to get people off veg and onto meat what are you playing at mike!!!! lol

Yep the Fifty Shades of Grey Butchers Shop will serve plenty of birds...

our butcher's bike will have a big basket at the front and will be a tandem in case any want a good old ride...

With no Saddles and loads of Cobbled streets lol

Have to go uphill... so when we are near the top we can scream yes, ohhh yes, I am nearly there.... oh, oh, Oh I am there.... that’s the last time I ride up Mill Hill. lmfao

(now here you need to go and listen to the lyrics of song by Chris Hill...its a bloody good laugh)

...our only customer has gone...didn’t matter he were a redhead...

I'll be in the front basket singing Fly me to the moon mike!!! I can't ride a bike anymore lol!!!!

(now the next two lines one must put on a good Italian accent...the pronunciation...then you will get the joke...der) 

would we sell pizzas as some like a good ole pizza on?????

and would we sell meaty snacks with a good ole fork...???????????? pmsl

I can see I’ll have trouble getting you back out of the saveloy and jumbo Sausage chiller!!! we might never see you again!!! lol

some of our meats would already come marinated or well creamed....

They will if I don't keep you on a tight leash young man!!! lol

and of course our sausages would have four skins so that our customers may peel them back...

well I think we have advertised our idea of the woman’s ideal butcher's shop...now just to wait and see who likes it if not all the stock will go off and it won’t be the shop being Fifty Shades of Grey it will be the meat as well...if that happens we will have to call it Azda's Finest Meats.

The Bike could be the main attraction though mike!! think Bradley Wiggins might cut the ribbon on Wide Opening Day??? lol

You could spray your Box Gold in his honour!!! lol

yep we would blast out Queen's Bicycle Song...those fat bottom girls are riding today, so look out for those beauts all year...

Do you think the girls might want to get involved with their cakes mate?

sausages and creamed cupcakes...you might have a good business idea there!!!!!!

I am going now to catch up on EastEnders...I want to be rich as Ian Beale...watch this space!?!? lol

OK Mike I’ll run this business idea past Tracey and see wot she thinks!! got to round up the puppies now mate keep safe and don't put ya tongue in the mincer mate!!! later!!

you forgot to add soft tender beef curtains lmao  (now this was from a female friend...no offence, seriously but soon after the convo of this thread stopped. Either we were just in fits of laughter or our wives had dragged us to bed...lol)

yep we would love to do them as well...big ones and small ones.

And there forth the thread ended...and I had an enjoyable time in bed...lying, well wouldn't you want to know.

Good bye, God bless

Amen. 

You got to poke them all

Breaking news: Beefeaters have been drafted in to Walmer Castle to protect the historical site from hordes of Pokemon hunters.

A spokesman for English Heritage said the unusual steps were a necessity as the Tudor castle has been made hot spot for Pokemon Go  a game played at most by besotted 25 to 30 year olds fed up with their mundane yuppie working lives.

Many of them have just recovered from V Fest, where they consumed vast amounts of alcohol.

A Dutch tourist to the castle said, "I zeed not no thatz zee Cassel wert so popular, buzz I seez a youngs men waltz into 350 year old artifact of Henry zero 8th and totally fuck whizz it"

A local old disabled man fed up that his favourite parking spot had gone said it fooking stinks that not one of them had even paid to get into the castle.

"They are just walking round looking into their phones...someone needs to get them all a new life which they sell up the Coop".

Dementia sucks....but hey! I can cook?

A sketch of my dad at The Waiting Miner

Well, I have been into this #dementiasucks lark for over two weeks now, helping my dad in his 24/7 care as he battles dementia, my mum laid up in rehab care,  recovering from an emergency hip replacement (partial) and it feels like a roller coaster of emotions.

It has also been a road of self discovery, self belief, crying by self, sleeping by self and being by self...so I have raided my mums iPad and blogged away contently at what I can only describe as "can this year get any better or worse."

Apart from the games, zip up and down, pants up, pants down, sock on, sock off, walk around the living room, touch things, move things, move things back things, the singing to nowt but Nat King Cole, telly on, telly off, open front door, close front door, wipe up, chuck cuttery in any fooking drawer, take them out, put them back..."Hey son!? Is this right?"; then the daily ritual of recycling so then have to play that outdoor game of  "get the right recyclable into the correct bin"... then you wonder and question why, why, why?

That is a just part of his daily routines and habits and when one becomes accustomed to them, like eating meals with his cutlery knife, then it makes this caring lark a little more easier as each day passes and not the dreaded challenge that I feared. I discovered things, met past acquaintances, met people I have never met before and probably never has my dad as he goes about that staring, eventually asking "Do I know you?".... Jeez next time I will make sure I put that extra hour on my car!

Then there is the dribbling, runny nose, shuffling of his feet, kicking away the fallen rubbish or leaf on the ground. And, when we visit mum there is the calling her precious...but most of all is the crying, floods of tears that I just can't hold back...weep, weep, weep! Oh and dad crying too!

The saddest and most hurting bit is being apart from my family...my good wife...now leading the single mother life style but still struggling with the family ups and downs of before and now. I miss my kids, taking my daughter reluctantly to the station each day #dadstaxi; the giving-in to the daily demands of my son, our son, troublesome in the nicest possible way.

So I find myself here with dad, sometimes lonely, building up a new relationship with a father whom is a totally different character...not the dad I once knew, not the dad he was and never will be again, but still my dad, my brother and sisters' dad, husband of nearly 60 years to mum...for he has changed due to dementia and will keep changing, downwardly until Heaven has a room ready for him.

In this brief time, we have become closer. We have had walks out, family have visited and I am blessed with the knowing how truly wonderful my aunts and uncles have been...dutiful so dutiful. And I found out that I can cook....don't tell the wife...I can organise but maybe not assertively as my sister - poor big brother he got a sharp telling off - and I can clean plumbing pipes!!

And with this organising, arranging care, I have learnt to be sneaky and state a few fibs to dad so not cause upset in his thinking, his worry or concern that may well arise from telling the truth...so on Monday daddy you are going to the day centre...no, no, no...it's a surprise sort of party, get together with others like you, suffering like you and they will have old stuff there to aid your memories.

At each crossroad along the way I have felt the weakness, the urge to cry but slowly I have to control my emotions as I learn each skill that is needed such as last night, the mishap from toiletry, something that tested my resolve and anxiety and then today the display of anger as my brother came to relieve me for the duty to our father who is living in the moment.

So that's the way it is...normality may never return, no, not may, but never will.

God bless.

Amen

An Antique Tale...

 

My vintage toy car.



Waking up on a Sunday and it is peeing down with rain does not do well for queuing up at Walmer Castle for a chance to be on the BBC programme Antiques Roadshow. So I had a power nap on the sofa and dismissed the idea of going to the show.

And soon I was in a deep sleep, dreaming, dreaming, dreami.....ng! Oh Fiona Bruce, Brucie babe!!

' Car was ready and I collected my Nan, bless her well, all 4 foot-five of her. Splendid for her age, but alas a bit slow but some great stories to tell. Rang her doorbell and she greeted me with her now traditional, "Who the fook are you? No salesmen, no JoJo's; go away".

"Its me nan. We are going to the Antiques Roadshow!"

" I ain't that old. 99 I am and still going. Not out so to say! Come on lad stop dithering!"

My nan came out with her broom, not a witches broom but a newish looking one from Homebase. She was convinced it was the same rotten one that her husband use to have. He were a keen gardener and always said to me to look after your broom. Alas he never looked after his rake, left it lying on the ground and a misplaced foot and then WHACK!! Hit directly on the forehead whilst picking a cabbage for dinner.

Always asked my nan what did you do at the time. Her reply was, "Only thing I could do; opened a tin of peas..." My nan so funny!!

So we parked up near the castle and joined in the queue for the show. This was going to be some wait; my nan, her Zimmer and broom, my vintage toy car and an old tortoise paperweight. Soon we got somewhere to sit and rest, a waiting area of sorts and a group of posh looking researchers rummaging and inspecting peoples belongings. Trying to find the most notable antiques.

Would I get to be on TV with Fiona...oh Fiona!!

Whilst we waited for the researchers to approach us my nan was staring at an old boy in an electric wheelchair. In his basket was some miniature grandfather clock. It looked extremely old and was very dusty and grimy on the face. In turn he was staring at nan. In fact they stared at each other for a good ten minutes and then together they spoke in unison, " Hello? Do I know you??".

I thought to myself you ought too;  your blinking neighbours!! You always admired his clock!

 

...they have no value...

 

 

Soon we were greeted by the researchers. They asked if we had any antiques for filming. Yes I replied as nan shoved her broom into the man's face.

 

" It's Victorian! she said. Gracefully I hid the Homebase label with my hand.

 

"Oh really?" said the man.

 

I had to come out with some story so I told him, " Belonged to my granddad and his father before. They kept it well maintained, and it has had 17 new brush heads and 20 new handles in its one hundred and twenty year life."

 

"Is that so?" replied the man. " More like Fools and Horses do you not think?

 

" Do you have any thing of interest?"

 

" My vintage toy car!" He said that with no box they have no value.

 

" My old tortoise paperweight?" He said far eastern tourist ware, they have no value.

 

 

...wasting time...

 

 

The man was clearly annoyed with us and suggested we were wasting time with our silly items. My nan was now having a nap. As the man muttered obscenities under his breath he turned to the old man in the electric wheelchair. The old man then fainted on the sounding of words of delight from the researcher; "...fantastic find...£10000 at least...get him on with Fiona..." First aiders were called an in the ensuing commotion a scruffy, dark haired man of eastern European appearance snatched the clock from the man's basket only to be rugby tackled by two others in the crowd and hit with an old antique police truncheon. "Belonged to my late husband...I knew it would come in handy" I heard a lady say.

 

The researcher, now rather bemused with the excitement, turned around and his eyes fell on my nan, who was very fast asleep. The chap had clearly forgotten that he thought we were wasting his time and was clearly out of sorts from so much suddenly going on around; ambulance, police and news cameras. "Now" he said "who does this ancient doll belong too?"

 

I promptly snapped back, time wasters eh, "That doll sir; is my fooking NAN!!"

 

Oh yes I got to be on telly, the local news...what a farce! Fiona, Fiona....Fioooona, yawn!'

 

 

God bless. Amen.



A lottery dream

Lottery winner....yessssssssss!

Well being so close to winning last week...you know that big one of £93 million...yep bought a ticket but alas my numbers were either one or two out of those actually called. Shame!

So decided to have another go this week on the normal lotto...after careful deliberation and statistical pondering of recently winning  lines I scientifically chose a lucky dip...looking at my numbers and I thought yep thats a fooking con...not sure if; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 are random enough or if the choice of the machine was merely mocking my confidence.

Well, trudged home in a sour mood and tucked the ticket away on the shelf and thought that's another two pound wasted. Fat chance I have. Anyway with nowt on telly, yet again that night worth watching I tuned into the lotto draw.

There were some game show contest going on, trying to win a holiday to...oh no that's such bad luck...Tunisia of all places. So the first draw the Thunder Number...bodes well I thought. Then soon it was the lotto draw....first ball out....YES! Second ball...oh Yesssss! Third ball, then forth, fifth and sixth.

I was dumb founded...I think but was not sure I had won...on the lotto. I checked the rules on line and yes I had won...my numbers had triumphed. I punched the air, jumped up and down on the sofa, screamed at the top of my voice.

So many emotions running through my head and questions on what I would buy. Strangely I looked in my cupboards and made a list...what was I doing? Nerd! Cars, I should look at cars....

So, having confirmed and then collecting my winnings I was at the dealership on the High Street...I was so excited. I had chosen my car...a Roller...pink it was...oh so love that pink! 

I left the dealership with my car...this turn heads I thought...but carefully everything was under wraps...all original packing and carefully placed in a carrier bag. Yep I had bought my first collectible Roller...number plate was: Fab 1. 

My first ever, Thunderbirds toy...the Rolls Royce of Lady Penelope. Well not much you can buy with £74.39...thank you lotto. Oh yes...got all six numbers up but so did another 40000 or so others!

And then I heard that sound, a regular voice of authority, calming yet angry and a shove in the back with, "Darling, your bloody snoring again!"

God bless and amen.

Sexist East Kent Mercury Report...lol

A Case of Deliberate Sexist Reporting...

Now I am not one for political moaning...absolute bloody lie...what me? Oh I admire Maggie the Iron Lady, not for what she did, but she was a leader and led well. Had the guillotine been at her disposal then she would have chopped off more heads then Henry VIII.

But we are still under the influence of Thatcherism long after her death and that is despite being in the pit of austerity. So what does the future bode...well more austerity, tinged with a return to some old Thatcherite policies if our dear friend Mr. Cameron gets in for a second term.

So what if Labour get in, is Ed up to leading us with is Skunk like hair and rat face eyes. And will he be in partnership with the Scottish lady, Ms Sturgeon, "Mary Queen of Scots reborn"... Yep she will be a tough one! And does the other Ed have the Balls to give us more and yet spend less.

Well, most will be having to make up their minds in the next seven days or less...endless leaflets dropped through your door, people with different coloured rosettes knocking on your door like bloody Jehovah's.

But I ask you, if you have a Labour poster in your window and some nerd asks "Are you voting Labour? Can we count on your support?"....der...of course!

Political programmes, adverts, broadcasts, who has done what and when and who was to blame for the mess...what the dog mess...ha ha! And then there are your local rags, profiling all the candidates, giving you some idea if you haven't made up your mind yet.

But, get this...my local rag has profiled the five main hopefuls. Now we have two female contenders, one for Labour and one for Lib Dems and three male contenders: one Tory boy, UKIP and a Green.

Now clearly hidden in its layout is the clear agenda of our local rag, unbiased, non political support but sexist to say the least. Now the Greens have been given very little edited space...so small you would think this is the editor or reporter.

So the rag has detailed the two female prospectives on one page and has the last two male contenders on the opposing page. My dear local rag have you deliberately pitted male against female..sexist point one!

Then look at the photo presentation..our two ladies have passport size pictures displayed whilst for the Tory boy and UKIP no-hoper...well they have purposely taken photos, six times larger in size then the lady hopefuls...sexist point two!

So does this,  I wonder, mean that my local rag is trying to draw your interest more towards the Tory boy and UKIP outsider and drawing you away from Labour or LibDem because they are ladies...pure sexism I proclaim.

Any way, I know who I am voting for on the day, for I have only seen one contender...not the Tory boy whom I have not seen; nor UKIP chappie; LibDem; well she could be anywhere...and the Greens...well had them for dinner...lol!

That's all folks! I gladly await my local rags response!

God bless. Amen.

A day of crime, cake and tea...

Well, I am going to a very first today...a crime writers' convention! Yes, I am going to a meeting where there will be nothing short of murder, mystery and suspense.

Why I am going is a mystery in itself but I have reason because I wrote a 100 word crime novel and entered my writing into the Flash Fiction Competition. So that is the suspense part...will I win??? without knowledge of any other short stories entered then I have no idea what the competition is like in terms of quality of writing, brilliance of comprehension, grammatical excellence.

My story is simple, well it had to be in 100 words. The scene is set and a few words bring you from the past to the present. And there is a twist...at least I think it is a twist. Good enough, well have to wait and see at the convention.

Now going to a crime convention for writers, if I win, I am sure going to upset a few, because there are many, no doubt, who have been writing of dreaded deeds, and have never made a huge success of it, this writing lark. A bit like my blogging, because sure no one bloody reads this waffle...I mean there are hundreds of blogs, about different subjects all over this internet thingy, we can't possibly read them all, more so the ones adorned with pop-up adverts.

My, going off on a tangent there! So, back to this convention...now one will have to ponder on what to wear? Agatha Christie style or hoodie and jeans? Polished shoes or trainers? A few coins in my lean wallet or a wad of Monopoly notes? Panama hat or beanie? Cigarettes or cigar? Oh dear, I think I am going to stick out like a sore thumb...not good if your trying to get away with murder!

Not that I am going to murder anyone, but I will certainly feel a bit odd because I am only going to see if I win...and if I don't then, Then, THen, THEn, THEN...BAM!!!!

" No officer, I had my own cake and drunk tea from my own flask...why were everyone poisoned?? How nasty...tut, tut, tut."

Oh yes, I am going to make sure I am on my guard, treat everyone with suspicious eyes, sit at the back and inspect my tea with vigour...fresh milk please! I will listen to all the guest authors with interest whilst trying not to fall asleep. I may also make conversation, with the less suspicious of course, so not to get bored.

But most of all I am going because its a little bit odd and something different and I need to expand on my skill of writing something great.

So bye for now, God Bless and amen.

PS: Now where are those darkened glasses of mine!!!!???

Worry of their teenaged years...

Worrying of that teenage life...

Should I be worried for my children now both are teenagers? Should I worry that when things go wrong for them they want your compassion yet they tend to perceive beforehand they know more of life than yourself?

Yep, difficult questions and natural worry! But, be blessed about this...were we parents not the same?

Take my son, just turned 13 and at five foot ten he is taller by slight margin than me..."Coming to the rugby lunch?". Er, no he doesn't...! 

" I'm going to St Margaret's".  Obviously by bus because that is the only sensible way of getting there. " By train Dad!" WHAT???? Now do realise my son...and consciously I can sense myself shouting, raising my voice, putting my very serious dad head on as all those risks speed through my mind as what possible scenarios might unfold as he and his friends embark on this mini adventure.

Alarm bells ringing...the nearest station to where they are going is a three mile hike, along roads that resemble a roller coaster ride in places. Then there is the busy A road to cross, where more have been killed than I have fingers and toes...only last month a young person lost their life hitch-hiking that road! Then, there are those blind bends and hills en route...and at this time of year, well they are going to be walking back in the bloody dark at rush hour time...why oh why are you not getting the bus?!?

That is the perilous worrying done, now the financial bit...pocket money is a must. Money for train ticket, refreshments of some kind and if necessity arises change for the bus home rather than train. Oh no, they have it all suss'd...they can bunk the train! You cannot bunk the bus because as strapping teenagers you cannot exactly slip by the driver at the stop without causing a public scene. The train, four to eight times larger than the bus, a four minute journey ride and so much easier to bunk...NO...you get get caught that's a £20 fine...ten times more than the fare!

And then there is the environmental bit? In this day and age you get fined for dropping litter...leaving it on the train or bus is okay...they have cleaners of course. But getting refreshments to eat on a teenaged hike is a bit like a licence to litter...no bins, just hedgerow in which to dispose of their junk. You can put it in your pockets...no way Dad! Yep, they will leave a trail of wrappers and plastic bottles no doubt?

And then there is the thought and concern of having a dinner ready for them on their return home...well my son will be tired out and surely we gave him enough to get something filling to eat? Me I am off to a rather cheap and fantastic rugby lunch while my lad will be feasting on Haribos and Lucozade...so preparing dinner could be a wasteful affair...and gladly I was right. He went straight to his room and fell asleep...which means I will have to wait till morning to find out of his adventure...I mean the truth and nothing but the truth!

And now to my teenaged daughter, a bit more sensible with age, after all she is sweet sixteen next week, growing up fast, into make up, fashion and desire for riches to spend and boys....BOYFRIEND!?! "You be bloody careful...?!!" do I know him? What's he like? Who's his parents? Has he a job? You do not make a pass at my lass unless you are earning forty grand, I can let you know that now. 

" It's no more or less of a worry than we did for K..." assures my wife to me. It won't be long before she is off down the pub and rolling home drunk...that's the worry. She almost does as she pleases, secretly in her bedroom in full practice for X Factor. And where are you going? Not only do I ask of this once but several times, and yes it has to be several because at her age then their life is top secret. Shrouded in mystery!

Then with her, my delightful daughter has the lacking of advance planning. For herself, having a grammar education, for which she has strived on her own good effort, her friends are spread around a wide catchment area of up to 20 miles from our house...bloody annoying when at the drop of a hat she expects a lift to some remote part of our Kentish countryside...Yep a mere taxi service I am!

And with her is the staying out late and dinner quandary...as with with my son. So that is another worry of what to cook and ask if it will be wasted when she arrives home because she has eaten out...oh the joys! And to prepare dinner for all, the wife is on a diet for purpose, is not what they will have because of their fussiness. And me well I am a kind of can cook, won't cook type. 

I expect this worry is just natural...where they go, who with, what they will be up to, dinner, pocket money, lack of advance communication or warning, awaiting the expectant phone call, " Dad can you pick us up?"' a call that always comes at inconvenient times, like sitting on the toilet, and not do they ring your mobile, they ring the house phone...like a game or sorts, because as you reach one it rings off and the other then sounds, which cannot be found because it is stuffed away deep down the sofa or something.

Well, in essence, must be thankfully for mobile technology, for at least we have some reign on them...that's when they answer and for them they will have the notion to use a friend's phone  if theirs has died of battery.

And when they are home you have no more need of worry but when they don't wish to talk of what they have done today. " It don't matter Dad!" . It does, I won't to know and engage you both in conversation to see if you enjoyed your days. No, they don't wish to talk, just banish themselves away in their rooms...hope you didn't do anything wrong I at least wonder, as they never seem to wish to talk, or do I just sit and relax and wonder as to something that is not concerning enough...should I be worried of a knock at my door?

Oh well, live for another day!

God bless and amen.

A lyrical interview with Santa...



Well, apparently Santa is back and I was lucky enough to interview the great man.

"Why do you do this Santa and in our world of austerity can you bring good cheer to everyone in 2014?"

It's not about the money, money, money

We don't need your money, money, money

We just wanna make the world dance

Forget about the price tag

"Yes I know it's not about the money but you have a naughty and nice list, is that fair in this world today, is everyone not equal?"

You say I'm crazy

'Cause you don't think I know what you've done

But when you call me baby

I know I'm not the only one

"Ah, what with extended families, terrorism, our world is full of extremes, you really still provide good cheer at Xmas, should we not strive for that everyday?"

Tonight, tonight, we gotta live for

We gotta live for these days

Tonight, tonight, we'll remember

We'll remember these days

"Thats nice Santa but if you were my present what would I get?"

You got me wrapped up

"Sadly many think Xmas is too commercialised and tradition now is to substitute Xmas with 'holiday'...how do feel about that?"

When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades

And the crowds don't remember my name

When my hands don't play the strings the same way, mm

I know you will still love me the same

"Yeah, sounds good you will never be forgotten Santa but what about Xmas everyday or are you too busy for that?"

Another day of living, yeah 

I just want to celebrate another day of living 

I just want to celebrate another day of life 

Don't let it all get you down, 

Don't let it turn you around and around 

"Well its getting on and time is of the essence if you are going to deliver all those presents maybe I could help you?"

Don't stop me now...

"Santa?....and why do you look like Arnold Schwarz......?"

It's Christmas....

I could pay you...just tonite...please???"

It's not about the money, money, money

We don't need your money, money, money

We just wanna make the world dance

Forget about the price tag

"Bye Santa...will we see you next year?"

I'll be back!....Merry Xmas!

12 days of Xmas laundry

12 days of Xmas laundry

On the 1st day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

A white wash on number 3.

On the 2nd day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

Two missing socks and a white wash on number 3.

On the 3rd day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

Three safety pins, two missing socks and a white wash on number 3.

On the 4th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and a white wash on number 3.

On the the 5th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

Five cur__tain rings.

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and a white wash on number 3.

On the 6th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

Six shirts a spinning, five cur__tain rings.

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and a white wash on number 3.

On the 7th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

Oh my God we're swimming, six shirts a spinning, five cur__tain rings.

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and white wash on number 3.

On the 8th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

My feet are bloody dancing, oh my God we're swimming , six shirts a spinning, five cur__tain rings.

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and a white wash on number 3.

On the 9th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

The phone emergency, my feet are bloody dancing, oh my God we're swimming, six shirts a spinning, five cur__tain rings.

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and a white washing on number 3.

On the 10th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

Ten engineers, the phone emergency, my feet are bloody dancing, oh my God we're swimming, six shirts a spinning, five cur__tain rings.

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and a white wash on number 3.

On the 11th day of Xmas my washing machine gave to me,

All the pipes pumping water, blood__y every__where....

And on the 12th day of Xmas with my shrunken underwear,

The sledge hammer came in handy; cos my partner said where' s my socks; so I hit him square in the rocks;

Four bra bones, three safety pins, two missing socks and sod you all insurance emergency.

My Big Sister....

Haven't seriously blogged for a while now for a few weeks. Entirely not me at all...says he fibbing! Maybe, there is not much at the moment that catches my heart strings, not deep and personal that I can take the Micky out of, or perhaps the world is so full of depressing thoughts to such an extent that I feel that we are all in danger.

Asteroids...

I mean asteroids, was once the greatest electronic game ever, simple electronic LED images of a triangular space ship firing out laser beams destroying rocks shaped like nuggets that were approaching you at all angles. So much better than Space Invaders!

And then of recent times we had that those films, Hollywood of course, about asteroids threatening the Earth....Deep Impact was one and the other I recall starred Bruce Willis and a group of miners landing on an asteroid, or was that the same film. Yep, asteroids hurtling round space and maybe hitting on mankind is kind of a worry but it only happens in films....does it not!

No way, WTF, one seriously hit Russia...came out of nowhere, none of space giants, NASA, Jodderal Bank...jeez that didn't even know it was coming. Not even the bloody space station was looking for it, slipped straight past and wham, bang thank you very much.

And then, just of late, mankind has landed some space craft probe on an actual piece of space rock to carry out scientific experiments to find existence of life...ah now that's purpose in life and example as to why one should endeavour to do your Maths at school, you know all those logarithms and tangents and algebra and how many sides in a Rubic Cube shite oh and of course BODMAS....and the ultimate learning for eleven years of your life, the 12 times table only to find out that in the real world of work that you need to learn every table above 12...yes Maths is important, especially so for asteroid exploration.

Yes, we have landed a craft on an asteroid, looking for life and if there is life we have probably pissed off a few bacteria....or maybe we wiped out a whole civilisation with the landing feet of the craft, a civilisation so small, that were so peeved with us landing on Mars and the Moon that they sent out an entire army or fleet of space ships with intent of destroying mankind, they sailed right past the Space Station, slipped past the GCHQ listening masts, went un-noticed by NASA but alas so small they were swallowed by a dog...( tributes to Douglas Adams and that guide).

And then what did I read of recently, and blogged so carelessly over Facebook...we have got to start taking it seriously to look out for asteroids and do something about it as a world now! Remember the one that wiped out the dinosaurs...really...well another one of them is heading our way...or could do!

My Big Sister...

So why the heck have I titled this 'My Big Sister'...well for one I thought I just talk about asteroids,better than talking about, blogging about the war on so called terror in the Middle East. Or talking of the Ebola situation. Sorry folks, but we can overcome these...one day, one day!

Well, to my sister I would like to say...if the big rock does ever come along...that I forgive you for pushing me down the stairs when we were babes, forgive you for pushing my big fat arse through that pane glass window, sorry for knocking your front tooth out when we onced argued. Oh and just to let you know...when we had our school photo taken together it made me cringe (oh the thought).

And I will never forget that day, as you have mostly had your hair short, apart from that bloody stupid perm you once had, and that waiter at that seafront cafe as he presented your refreshments he said unto you, " Here you are little boy!".  Oh the joy, the look on your face could have destroyed any asteroid. There were steam coming out of your ears!

Ah, childhood...and as family do you drift apart in different directions or you stay close. Well we drifted apart but now for purpose we are more ever closer than before. Alas, my bond with my brother is not as strong but I pray that it will. Love you sis, and thanks for being there so to speak. God bless and amen.

Xmas is coming, Santa Claus is coming...

My wife says you know when Xmas is coming because all men are miserable...

Ha, ha, ha, ha...what do you mean?

Well I am for one looking forward to it especially conjuring up the trick of trying to get rid of the household waste...

And yes this will be Xmas morning all round...

There will be an endless duty of making tea for everyone...

 

There will be an endless desire for sweets and snacks...how will I fit that dinner in?

 

 

 

 

 

The housework wont be done...

 

 

 



 

 

There will be a few unwanted clothing gifts...

 

 

 

Oh yes, that's just a few gripes...of course I am looking forward to Xmas cos Santa Claus is coming!

 

 

God bless and amen.



Well what a Halloween that was...

Now that one day holiday event is yet gain over for another year and as some breathe a sigh of relief that the night caused them no pain, and as all the little children be they 5 year-olds or well into their teenage years trudge off home to devour the sweets and count their monies gained, it is always nice to dwell on the written word of humour to make lite of public life.

For instance, the season is about ghosts and the like so a good written one liner will always go down well at this time of year, especially so when the clocks have just turned back that hour bringing on the darkness much quicker than we all expect, as usual…

‘Jeez thought I saw a four legged ghost...then realized I dropped tea towel on the dog...lol’

Ah yes, this one written line has power to amuse because it focuses on our own lives in real-time, as we can imagine that this could happen, does happen and probably has happened.

But do we really like this time of year, is it now so deep in tradition to have groups of fancy dress clad family and strangers knocking at our doors that we regard it as entertainment, to put on our door stops cut out images in pumpkins, to have ready a bowl full of sweets to hand so readily to callers when all we want is an evening of undisturbed peace and tranquility.

I know of some who invested well in those Haribo’s and Allsorts and did not get any callers at all and then there were those who were unselfishly pranked by the mischievous few who had desire to remove bikes and smash those pumpkins…sadly yes we have to live with the extreme.

Apart from the fancy dressing up bit and reflecting on the good and bad of the evening there is always the given comical side to this time of year…mostly in pictures of very artistically inventive pumpkin designs…but could any of you peeps imagine this…

  ‘Well what a Halloween that was...as we heard the knock of the last callers, we had run out of sweets,    decided to make shadow of myself in front door window, prior to opening, and raised my arms up like a beast, and letting out a blood curdling growl as thought this would entertain the little ones outside my door.
   However, on opening the door I was greeted not with the customary "trick or treat" but by two rather wide-eyed expressionless faces whom said, “ Would one like to take our leaflet The Watchtower and may you visit Kingdom Hall one day...do you think things happen for a reason?"
I certainly do my dear friends, I certainly do...LOL’

This story of course is fictional, yet comical and would never happen…er, could it? It enlightens our approach to Halloween whilst encompassing our disdain to the work of Jehovah’s and encaptures those foolish moments when we might act first and think later…we all love to chuckle at those embarrassing moments of human life.

Anyway best go as I have discovered new word of an old saying, “Making wholeness heals the maker…” – something said by Christopher Alexander…who? Um, exactly what I thought!

God bless and amen.

Where is my Clubcard...

Well haven't blogged for almost two weeks now...What? Yep, what the hell! Why? Why?

Perhaps, I am not the person I set out to become...one searching instant fame from a fantastically written blog about a load of crap...you know the brilliantly written piece, so mind bogglingly brilliant that it has instant effect to change our political quagmire or so stupidly captures the imagination of many readers and so snowball into some unstoppable fad...eh called fame! Oh and of course bring me loads of cash...£££££££££££££££££££££££££££.

Then, maybe I have just not found anything to ponder about, or at least think about recently or maybe I am so depressingly bored with a world that seems to quell on bad news...wars, death, political righteousness, unkempt religion, accidents, America (gosh even in America there are some niceties...yes??)!

Well, I have written about Tea, wrote of my unpublished book; Plank, commentated on politics, talked of my fight with depression, blogged about this housework lark (still don't get it...men grasping the art of housework), suggested pointless things to do, you know Stobart Spotting (cant do this down under obviously...but I could be wrong!). 

I have written about the joy of my local football club, the day they won at Wembley Stadium. I have written about Mybin...a very serious and sore point for many...gosh sometimes our bins are treated so badly. I have written about my son's learning. I have written about going out to get drunk and the fact I came home sober...der!!! Saddo...!

In fact, I feel quite proud of what I have written, a few enjoyable reads for my small following of readers...but perhaps I have not enlarged my soapbox to gain that stardom I so desire...surely I can do better than Plank. Or maybe I can do a piece about the art of making a cup of coffee...no, no, no! Too many complex ways what with those coffee makers and perky thingy's and all those different blends and textures...I mean when I once went to Italy I expected my coffee to be in a mug not a vessel that almost represented a thimble...and where the heck was the sugar!

Mind you there is also a lot I could talk about...the world has many subjects. Like the game of cricket or I could write about when I was once so stoned that my godly punishment was to help a little old lady carry her shopping home back along the path I had just travelled down in a friends car...my,  never had I laughed so much as to why or what the heck I was doing that day.

So with all that I must now sign off, go and put the news on to see what sad news in the world there is or to see if there is any good...as if!!!!!!!!!! Mind at this unearthly hour of the morning I must be a fool, but I am on a mission to encapture the world with my brilliance in writing a load of tosh.

Oh and before I forget, I have registered Mr Tesco...so where is my Clubcard???????????????

Well, God bless and amen.

Motorway games...

Well, its the last day of the last bank holiday of the summer...and guess what its gonna rain on those busy roads. The kids will be bored and fed up on the long drive home...so why not play this game:

 EDDIE STOBART SPOTTING

 

 

Its a bit like train spotting but less boring. For one the cabs have names, female names. The drivers have nice uniforms and according to Adrian Mole they ought wave back at you should you wave to them.

And you can buy so much stuff related to Eddie Stobart from pens and key rings to scale models. You can buy a Stobart Spotters book, especially designed for this spotting game. And if you cannot get note of the female names, always on the front of the cab, you can write down the trailer number instead.

The best places to play this game is obviously, up and down the M1 or A1...but always look out for them in those motorway services and Tesco's. Failing that,  one can always play eye-spy or count the lamp posts or cheer out loud as you pass under every bridge.

So, enjoy the last of the summer wine or should that be whine...lol.

God bless and amen.

 

My Carnival Parade - Deal Regatta Week 2014

Well here I am again blogging...and this week it is about the fun of taking part of the carnival and Deal's regatta week. This is my parade...a bloody fool, but that's me, an eccentric fool, lol!



Fireworks at Deal Pier

Raft Race

The lorry pull event

Forrest Amusements on Walmer Green   

Well, it is a long old story of how I entered for the Carnival, but if you have read one of my previous blogs;  mybin - then you just might understand why?!! Yes, mybin is famous...well on Deal Watch, that is...ha, ha!

I challenged myself to enter the carnival parade...it's my town and why not...I had a madcap excuse now, and dared myself to enter on social media and had encouragement from my community peeps. My dear darling wife was dead against, but even she succumbed with an hour to go and gave mybin a thoroughly good clean.

 ...had to get...

 

 

I had to get into the spirit of regatta week, and boy it had been a long, long time since I had honestly enjoyed being at all of the important events...sorry folks but I am a tad too old for the teddy bears picnic and the baby show...(er, you never just know at 51)...no, just a big baby at heart!

 

 

So, taking my son to the lorry pull was part of the build up I was going through. "Do you want to enter the lorry pull, son?" At first, he was hesitant, but when he saw a friend from school and he said yeah lets do it then there was no turning back. Lewis and Riley gathered some friends, called themselves The Rizzles and entered the junior lorry pull event. Lewis being Lewis, having a wanting to win attitude, then joined his rugby team, as there were one too many in The Rizzles and pulled with the Special Legends...and yes they were all fantastic ambassadors for the youth of our town, as were all the teams involved.

 

 

 

 

 

What a buzz, Lewis gained a medal and VIP treatment at the forthcoming firework display...they didn't exactly win the lorry pull...but they will next year! At the fireworks, while Lewis and the rest of his lorry pull team, Special Legends, were in the VIP area watching the display, us parent were stood, yes stood, on the beach watching...oh stood were you, while the thousands of others around you were sat down on the pebbles...problem...hell no of course, I sat...not going to look the odd one out!?!

 

The biggest problem were getting out of the car park...took 20 minutes, 20 bloody minutes...some drivers eh?

 

 

Carnival Day



 

So, Carnival Day was upon us, and I was full of excitement...and I should bless my wife for her flourished finale of help..."That bin ain't clean, Michael"...and she found me a wig to wear as well.  So I was looking the part...

 

 

 

...yes this was my attire, my disguise. No one would recognise me...well tough because being famous I stood out like a sore thumb.

 

Hearing shouts of "mybin" and "Prudence" were brill. But I have to say this was daunting...waiting I had a feeling of anticipation of staying the route...well the wig was in my face, the crowds were in their thousands, crowding onto the road at places, making merry, pointing their fingers and laughing and gossiping and all the kids lining the streets ready with their pennies to place in the collection pots...for each penny collected a patting of Prudence was for their delight...Prudence the big soft cuddly toy tiger...too big for our house...and I was under instruction to give her away! 

 

 

First

 

 

Oh, what made this easier for me, was that I had gotten First in the adult fancy dress...just my luck! Yes, mybin got first place...

 

 

 

 

And I was spotted by my many Facebook peeps....

 

 

 

 

Well, that collection pot was certainly well heavy at the end of the route and my arm ached for hours after. And not long after a lady captured this picture of me after the parade, and during a lift back with a good friend, Prudence was given away...and I known she went to someone special because the family we randomly chose were so delighted their smiles could have touched Kingsdown cliffs and may have bounded into Thanet as well.

 

 

Well, I did it...and damn well pleased as well...fantastic to have got  first and a Deal Carnival Winner's Trophy.  Will it be on to bigger and better...maybe. But folks if I can do it there must be others who can as well.

 

 

God bless and amen to you all.

 

 

Acknowledgements  to; East Kent Mercury, Deal Watch and Deal town Facebook pages