A Slow return from Pleasure Island

As I mentioned at the end of last week, I was on the road to oblivion...

I have come back. Slowly.

I often find myself in a similar position to that famous wee wooden fella..Pinocchio. Tempted by friends and selfish thoughts into visiting Pleasure Island. Once there of course, the promises made to the blue fairy (who incidentally I have always had a disturbingly gooey soft spot for) are slowly forgotten and one embarks on a veritable odyssey of indulgence. In Disney's world this resulted in Pinocchio slowly turning into a Donkey, starting with ears and a tail, for me, it tends to start with my liver, kidneys and higher brain functions..

This does not happen to my ears anymore..










However my kidneys do suffer some change......










Of course, like the little wooden guy, a self awareness check-point arrives when understanding the damage being done, you flee gladly (taking as many idiot friends with you as you can) back to reality to slowly recover.

As time goes on, I have found the trips to Pleasure Island have evolved and become less frequent (although no less fun), the transformation into a donkey faster and the recovery to full human functions getting painfully slow.... Its interesting that for all Pinocchio's faults as a heartless wooden toy he never returned, although I have never been swallowed by a whale so perhaps we are even..

As a final note my view of the blue fairy has evolved ever so slightly from the frankly childish image above...to the slightly more realistic view below:

Idle your time away with a solid Mong

I have a hobby which does not normally pass muster on the average 'pastime' list which I call Monging. Monging is for me the term I give to doing nothing in a specific way . It is much much more than this however, simply put:

I have to mong.

There are times aplenty, when I find myself getting irritated and restless and often this is due to a mongless day, my spouse has even ordered me to stop and have a mong when my agitated state starts to get on her nerves.

Everybody broadly agrees that sleep is a useful thing for humans, people do not get criticised for sleeping (well, as long as it within reason), but the waking equivalent - to mong, to daydream to kick back and relax is often referred to as 'lazy'.

I am not saying that I am not lazy, but that it is fundamentally different to a mong. For me the mong is that precious time in any day when you place yourself under no pressure what so ever to do anything, no thinking required...looking out of a window on a rainy day is a classic favourite mong of mine; as is watching dust swirl on a warm afternoon whilst allowing the eyes to go all blurry.

Two classic mongs...

Certain new agers of Buddhists types amongst you may classify these mongs as some form of meditation and this may be true...however, not many people can meditate all the way through an episode of neighbours..

There are others who share some of my beliefs..certain friends and accomplices and there are those such as Tom Hodgkson who have taken the time to set out a lifestyle manifesto which encourages and supports the mong...

It is also of note that it is possible to have a group Mong, this can occur quite by accident but in the right company it is nearly always a joyful experience (best enjoyed in a Public house).

A note of caution on group monging, they can sometimes be dangerous - should the crew of a aircraft decide to 'go a-monging' at the wrong time the results can be sickening. I have experienced something similar when crossing a road with friends....

If only the Germans had won

People. I have just had a reasonable exciting weekend spent marvelling at the people of Vilnius and the extraordinary way they have thrown off the soviet yoke to re-invent themselves as a modern vibrant European people, all be it with shocking tasting ham (and I do mean vom-inducing, I have welsh friend who may never smile again), an old skool Stalin inspired police force (no flushing toilets in there men) , and a frankly suspicious eastern nature which was about as welcoming as a skunk with a bleeding bowel wound.

Most of this is not the point however, the point is on arriving back in the the UK, replete with an empty bank account and the infamous 'beer paranoia' the last thing I really needed, and I do mean the last thing (other than the aforementioned skunk perhaps) was a 3.5 hr delay on a train.

What is wrong with us as a people, we know the trains don't work, we know we will not have a 'good' time using these parodies of efficient public transport and yet still we book tickets, and in what numbers (more than there are seats normally).

Having boarded a train for Plymouth from Reading at 21:04, to be told at 22:44 (near newbury or somewhere) that due to a smally problem we would be heading back to Reading I had but one thought...If only the Germans had one the war, if only Hitler could have sat on his ego (wrt Russia) for a wee bit longer, if the Yanks had just stayed out of what was really; none of their blasted business then perhaps, just perhaps I could have been whisked home in fine style on one of these...Rather than one of these (and yes, for my international readership, this is not a model)...

Oblivion

I am on the train to neverland, there are no stops and tinkerbell is drinking whiskey in my mind. Free our minds from the burdens of thought and comfort them with a blanket of ignorance..

Further Evolution required due to mounting Pole

I have just been touched by what appeared to be an inhuman force. As I have mentioned before, I have taken up Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, I am not good but am starting to understand the basics.

This evening I was forced to mount a Pole (not in the SCORES sense) but an apparently human polish guy who also trains at the Gym (there are a lot of Polish guys at the Gym, contrary to urban myth they are not in the UK to fix the drains they are here to learn how to kick ass).






This was NOT the sort of Pole I was mounting...






Anyways (bit of American there) we were moving from person to person 'mounting' them, now the mount in this game is higher than a boy-girl stylie mount, well, imagine you were mounting for the purpose of oral pleasure (boy or girl) and you get the idea. Once mounted, the mountee must try to remove the mounter (you have all been in this position I am sure). There are many techniques and tricks for both dis-mounting the mounter and remaining mounted upon the mountee and as I went around the room things seemed to be working out quite well, I even began to feel a little bit pleased with myself.

Until the Polish Dude (who looks normal by the way, a little broad chested but no freak), there I sat, mounted, waiting for his move..I had him covered I thought. His move turned out to be him elegantly grabbing me by the waist and launching me vertically toward the ceiling, with enough height to allow him to move away so that I would not land on him - for fucks sake.

People should not be allowed to have that sort of power in their arms, its wrong, all wrong, I landed about 4ft away? He must have had freak arms.

As I result of my flying experience I am in the market for a weight belt or an immigration officer. More evolution required.

On reflection his hands were a little like this.....

I should have noticed..

The Eastern Evolution

Growing up in the UK, the East had a strange fascination. For my growing worldwide audience I talk in this respect about those countries, previously led (quite literally by the ear) by the USSR - which lurked behind what was known as the Iron Curtain (it actually looked more like a elaborate deer fence for most of its length buts that's another story).

Anyway, I lived in West Berlin for a few years and can remember staring over the wall into a world which appeared, to my young eyes, devoid of both colours and joy, we all knew that at anytime the Russian Bear would come crashing through the flimsy western front to shatter our ideas and playfulness with a combination of hard steel and technology.

To me growing up, the T-64 Tank was every bit as scary as the bogey man and twice as hard. This part of world was of great fascination to me and I often wondered about the lives behind the grumpy guards on the gates as I tried desperately to get a glimpse of Nikita.

Then, quite suddenly, as everybody was bored, it was all over. Within months Eastern Europe had replaced Scandinavia in every young boys fantasy as the erotic epicenter of the world, the newly free 'peasants' who had up until now appeared as black and white hags morbidly picking potatoes, proved themselves to be a people of vibrant beauty and the longest legs in the world. One of the sparklyest evolutions ever as the pictures below prove!

From this, a lick of paint and a quick re-render to this................

And from this rather dated look, a new wardrobe, a new way of looking at things and most of all a new pair of 'western jeans' to this.....

This has been an evolution to savour, and I intend to this enjoy it this weekend with a trip to one of the unsung places of Eastern Europe, Lithuania's capital city - Vilnius, hailed as the new Prague (or is Prague the old Vilnius) , I hope to bring back evidence for the reader of its glory.

And the most impressive, after a little touch of sun and work in the gym and good diet control, we move from this to this....................

Credit Crunch should mean free houses!

A disappointing factor of the credit crunch, for me anyway, is the lack of banks and other financial institutions that have gone belly up and failed to keep decent records. Its a bloody shame that when a bank wraps itself around its own arse (or anybody elses), any money it may owe, to you or me for instance, is instantly at risk, however, any money you or me may owe the bank never seems to be in any jeopardy.

How nice it would be if a headline exclaimed " Northern Rock goes bust...Mortgage holders rejoice as loan details are lost forever..."It only ever goes one way however, and money only ever seems to flow uphill dodging the giant poo's which pour down onto those at the bottom of the pile not nimble enough to dodge...

The Credit crunch has passed me by, as a man who owes more than he owns and spends more than he makes, I find it hard to be troubled; to worry that deposits over £50,000 are not protected would be unseemly in a man who considers a month spent in the black a proper brucey bonus.

Also - Alas pensions? Where has all this crap come from about how much money folk need when they retire, my current lifestyle will not need maintaining as I will be old, this recent myth has been generated by bankers in order for you to feel obliged to send them you money...I will need rock all income when I am wrinkly, how much can it cost to sit in a Nissan Micra on a Sunday afternoon with a flask of tea and a bag of Mint Imperials watching the sky?

Not quite a Micra but you get the idea...

Time evolves

Its odd how time evolves and seems to march on at different speeds depending on your age.
Take a car journey with some kids to see a graphic demonstration of the effects of this phenomenon. Barely 30mins into a cheeky 'navigators seat' snooze and the little dudes will start complaining...the way they explain it, they have spent at least 5 hours in the car already...need a wee, are starving and are bored to the point of suicide, whilst you or I have just about got comfortable, many more situations in life give valid testimony to this effect.
Ask a kid how long the school day is and they will let you know "ages" (ages, like a middle age or the Ice age!), ask a Mum and she will invariably answer 'two short' (as in I can't get anything done), the effect is amplified by the fact that conventional wisdom suggests that when you are busy - time should pass quicker than when you are not...kids at school must be more engaged than Mums/Dads watching Trisha (okay..maybe with a little low level house work thrown in) so how is this disconnect possible? Ask a kid how long to Christmas and the answer will be g'zonks or something, as an adult and it will be 'damm is it that close already'.

There are two explanations, either all kids try to wind up all adults...all the time, and its a conspiracy (I have some proof of this but not enough to go public yet), or time really is moving along at different speeds for different people, and it is just at its starkest when adult time is compared to that of a kid.
Just as we all see our own rainbow, perhaps we all experience our own hours...this could explain how romantic comedies are enjoyable for women but tedious for men, perhaps for a woman the whole film is like a quick frivolous mini hair advert or something, where as we men folk experience hours and hours of of mind numbing goo...death would occur during these experiences but for the clever use by film makers of images such as the one to the left, which are enough to keep most red blooded folk 'away from the light'.



Einstein famously pointed out that time travels at different speeds depending on the speed of the traveller, using amongst other things his famous train analogy, so it is not a giant leap to imagine that a persons mind also effects travel through this medium. Perhaps its a factor of relativity, the more time you experience the less 'long' time appears - so as you get older and older, first the weeks and then the years pass by quicker and quicker.

The summers are never as long as they were...

So, what is needed is a child's mind on a good night out and a ancient mind for that long commute home, when you find out how to do this let me know.

WARNING - An unexpected Evolution

I have been involved in an unexpected and totally undesirable evolution...whilst I was not strictly the subject of the evolution I did play a small although vital part. This afternoon, following an agreeable night quaffing fine ales and dodgy wine as well as an assortment of Iceland (the old Bejam not the new basket case) sourced party foods, I was forced finally to face the little boys room. Now, having not consumed any really spicy numbers and broadly steered clear of Asian feasts, I was understandably nervous but reasonably confident of a successful bowel clearing trip.

Not a biologist by trade, I am only loosely aware of the principles set down by Darwin in his famous book and therefore tentative when I suggest that what happened to me was wholly wrong and 'against nature'. It is (It was!) my firm belief that objects leaving ones body should not under any circumstance attempt to independently leave the toilet bowl after what I can only describe as a struggle...

Imagine my further shock when this 'creature' (I will not call it my child), to the soundtrack of my cries of 'ALARM ALARM!', then crashed its way out of the bathroom through an open window, and faulted over the garden fence, sickening a worried looking squirrel in the process... (the squirrel still has not moved)

If you or your kin are currently in the Hampshire area of the UK, can I recommend locking your windows, shutting your doors and not approaching anything that even remotely resembles a fast moving mud-caked hedgehog..it was heading toward the sea and one can only hope it finds peace out there in the embrace of deep before it breeds....

Both myself and the creature displayed classic signs of panic throughout the incident. I would have soiled myself but given the circumstances this may have been really unhelpful.

This hole incident I have classified as a 'Shocker'.

Friday

Its Friday, what an evocative term. It means so much to so many and yet the expectation that swirls around this 24 hour segment of the week is normally based on hazy memories from your delightful youth.

The frisson of excitement that the middle aged office worker feels as morning drifts into afternoon on a cold Friday has nothing to do with the additional traffic on the way home, the thought of a fish and chip supper or even the vague hope that there will be something on telly worth staying up past nine for..(although not something that runs on too late, cos then you would then be tired and have to deal with kids swimming on a Saturday in a foul mood, which would in turn reap havoc with your spousal relationship resulting in harsh comments about your parental suitability and generally downgrade your weekend experience). And everything to do with the teenage hormones that used to pump through the body at the thought of a Pernod & black, maybe a cheeky snakebite and (god-willing) a hazy fumble & snog in a club followed by a cheeky one back some place because the parents are away.

I have managed, due mainly to a life spent in military service (which for information - has a Peter Pan like effect on behaviour when it comes to binge drinking like a teenager and dealing with social issues), to maintain some currency with my Friday evening expectations and can still, occasionally, be found dino-minging of an evening with the added bonus that due to a willing spouse the sexual antics are all but guaranteed....although it can be difficult to get her to dress like a Goth and hang out round the back of clubs looking 18 and tetchy...


An ideal Goth look for a spouse...

P.S Peter Pan effects are many and varied - check out the link above for a simple example...to be discussed at a later date...an evolutionary path the hog will not be taking (although Tinkerbell is sweet).

Age of Free invasions coming to an end...

Whilst my own views on the recent military activities in the middle east evolve daily....I was very impressed whilst in the US at the amazing evolution the debate has taken over there.

It seems that the penny has finally dropped for many members of these once proud colonies that they had given Iraq its invasion for free! The last time this happened was the American War of Independence when until victorious, the Americans invasion of the British Empire was (vaguely) technically funded by the British Empire itself - clever.

The French also made a massive contribution and therefore are essentially responsible for there own invasion by McDonald's and Mickey Mouse hundreds of years later (hows that for a bad investment coming home to roost).

We are told that the war is costing the US $10 billion a month whilst those free loading Arabs are hardly paying a penny...indeed the locals have even started amassing a fortune in oil money and all the while not contributing a penny toward there own invasion...not a dime (no wonder they take it for granted, its like welfare to these people).

Whilst the people of Iraq (to play devils advocate) may have thought they were on some; have-one invasion get one invasion free deal from the first Gulf War, this was clearly never meant to be the case and even if it was on offer back in the early 90s, everybody knows these deals expire after 5 years.....the Yanks to their shame have only just realised this? It must have come out during one of the many audits being conducted during these difficult financial times I suppose.

So, the new order is upon us, in future due to new tight economic conditions, failed states, crazy Asians, oil pumping monsters and even hapless Caribbean islands will have to stump up money in advance before the US will deliver an invasion or even a light bombing. You have been warned.

And you thought all this was free?

Incidentally we in the UK always had an inkling that we would not get paid any money but just assumed it was yet another example of 'Rip Off' Britain.

What time do you call this?

I am back in England, I am way too tired, this is made more testing because my mind is officially still in the US and on holiday - whilst my body is sat at a desk watching the cold rain....one thing I really noticed on return was the lack of colour, its like the colour has been drained out of this country, whilst I was away somebody has mesed with the brightnes and contrast controls!.....even the Autumn colours are not stinging my eyes like they should do but peeping at me from behind a veil of fog..too much harsh bright sunlight methinks...I am sure I will re-calibrate soon

The final days in the swamp...

I have evolved...into a creature of the swamps...denied access to the net and other techno outlets I have reverted mostly to simple pleasures..the pool, the beach, the Seafood burrito... 9 days spent staying in a sweet condo at Atlantic Beach...fantastic location with 15km of sand and waves...thanks also go to the Florida Yacht Club, Mr Ripley and my Friends Si & Tannahill for a brilliant stay in Jacksonville...

The family then moved to join the Armstrong clan (two bigs three littles), old friends from England who now hail from from Houston, a mega villa awaited us in the converted swamp area of central Florida that is called Orlando..this place in not really habitable but the Americans have worked hard to make it pleasant..chief among these clever people was one Walt Disney..we did three worlds, Hollywood, Animal and Magic and had a good if tiring time (reminded me a bit of my first trip to India when I came out of the airport in New Delhi to be overwhelmed by the seething mass of people, the noise, the smells the total 'hard core live Jazz when you are drunk on whiskey' in your faceness of it..). The favourites? Magic Kingdom I think on balance, we (as parents) were helped by our visit in north Florida to a place called Chukkies Cheese..after this experience Disney seemed quite quiet and relaxing...4 adults and six kids, 5 under six were worked hard but came out smiling...there is a reason it is known as a once in a lifetime experience....

now, with a day to go we wait by the pool in the sun..like gators and worry that we may not like the cold on our return....
The Hogbens kill time before flying home...