On the Move

I am currently on the move, slowly snaking my way from Plymouth (UK) to Jax (US) via a series of drinking events, BBQs and car/plane/train journeys. My ability to maintain a high level of alcholol consumption over a prolonged period has been steadliy diminishing, as a spring chicken I was well able to push out 8 days on the trot (although would suffer with pounding kidneys and a prolonged bout of meloncohly)....now-a-days i can, at best muster a 3 day spell before vital systems begin a systematic shutdown process. I am sitting nervously having 'used' for two days in a row and face the prospect of further expected use this eve..this time with 'youngsters', who are, as anyone who as stumbled into middle age wil tell you, the worst possible choice for drinking on day three...the old stag will rut hard with these young bucks and put on a brave face but I fear tommorow my horns will be in tatters...

Note: The bloody spell check feature refuses to work and I am starting to get a slight fear...aplolgies for the crap linguistic quality of this post in advance...

The Military MET

I have just returned from a jovial tour around the MET Office in...Exeter..I had no idea that these seers were paid up members of the Ministry of Defence, who knew! (to borrow a phrase from bones). These boys though were unusual as members of the British Military Establishment in that they had (in no particular order);

1. Fit birds.

2. Fine surroundings, including a little stream and coots.

3. Good coffee and premium biscuits coupled to a no rationing policy.

4. More flat screen TVs than Dixons.

5. A Cheery air and hardly any axes to grind.

6. A highly developed, super computer backed, you can't bend it, tropical storm warning system.

Another interesting fact is that the building was intended to have a glass roof, however, nearby Exeter airport complained that its pilots might mistake it for a runway and try and land on it...for fucks sake, bird brained swans slapping their feathery cheeks down on wet motorways is one thing, but I would hope that even the most 'swan' brained pilot would know the difference between a building and a runway.....perhaps those 9/11 imbecilic 'hot-Shots' had done a bit of training in the west country...

This burns on concrete....burns.....

Brazil

I have recently taken up the art of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu..this 'grappling' art involves folk impersonating fighting ants for long periods before somebody does something so devious and mean that the other someone submits. I was attracted to the Brazilian version rather than the Japanese version for stylistic reasons...plainly put Brazilians are demonstrably cooler than Japs, whether they are cavorting on the beach, brushing golden locks, or simply putting the 'O' into thong. Added to which those breezy South American folk, whilst not nearly as whizzy with the soldering iron, never broke 'big frank' whilst making him construct railways (as reported by my good friend P).

Last night, for the first time, moves I attempted worked! I was truly evolving - and had it been a school disco rather than a sweaty dojo I would have pulled a beauty..

I also have a much greater appreciation and respect for ants, whilst it may look like they are resting when they do those cute little ant clinches they are in all likelihood 'hanging out of their little anty arses'.

As mentioned you can't really fault this...

compared to this...

House en France

The Mrs and I own a house in the stunning foothills of the Pyrenees, problem is it costs us a smally fortune to maintain and even more when we visit, added to this' the realisation that it is too far from the sea (for us sea loving types) and a little two French (for us Anglo-Saxon English speaking types) and you have the large part of the reason why it is up for sale. Problem is of course that right now is not the brightest time ever to sell a property - even in France. House prices are deflating which is a bloody good thing imho as to say they were unaffordable would be an understatement. In fact the reason we bought 'out there' rather than 'over here' was the already startling price levels four years ago...

So if anybody fancies a four bed roomed private house with 7 hectares of land and a sparkly pool for just shy of 450,000 euros let me know....

O, and it has giant worms living there, not snakes, but big fat red worms which can best be described as 'Dune stylie'














The simple French peasants flee in terror.....

Day One

The Hog is about to begin a concentrated period of evolution. I have evolved previously at a Darwian rate allowing nature, alcohol and whim to take its course, but the time has come for some full on directed evolving. This includes but will not be limited to; A new job, a new country, a new house, a new profession, more family time, new combat skills, different friends, new outlooks and finally a clean fishbowl.



I intend to use this blog to document this evolution from today until I am lying in a hammock somewhere hot, with a bottle of chilled carlsburg export wondering whether the leaf that has just landed in the pool constitutes a reason to move...