THE WINTER COMETH

I have for a variety of reasons been living in a somewhat alien environment for the last few months..I would like to lay the blame for my lack of posting firmly at the door of this unfortunate circumstance but that would mean that I, good friends, was being less than generous with the truth.

Whilst the strangeness of my current existence has had an impact on my general thought process it has not particularly impacted on my level of personal drive which remains locked (as always) in stasis..

trying to articulate the difficulty I have in moving from one place to the next either physically or mentally I struggle for suitable metaphors, my favourite at the moment is this....imagine I am a sloth, a great shaggy densely muscled ball of stinking fur hanging from a branch, I decide to move toward a big gleaming cluster of fruity tropically things further down the branch, I give myself a reasonable time scale (3 /4 hours) and proceed.
One hand off (the right - my traditional 'recce hand when hunting fruit), gently does it as I waggle it lazily along the branch, grip secure, next the left leg (not been moved for a while at takes some effort this one), away it swings before locking securely further along the branch on a nice thick limb, remembering at all times what me mam said (God bless her slow moving soul), I remove the right leg and fix it smoothly further ahead. Finally old faithful the left, I break grip....and blow me - I am falling at a horrible rate of knots; related I thinking an odd moment of clarity to the mass of the earth and some universal constant that I can't quite remember - but I am covering the 15 meter distance to the forest floor at a pace significantly faster than my normal clip...I hit the soft earth which squeezes the air out of me in hot rush leaving me mostly sad.....

As I recover, I begin the after action review, looking around, without a whole body sigh, I begin to understand, the right hand is still firmly attached to a limb, but this is my left arm (old faithful indeed!), the left leg to the right arm which is also housing the right leg....3 points of contact (good)....none on a tree (bad)...imagine at this point how the sloth is feeling, as it contemplates the next 7 hours movement, desolation sweeps his little body... got it?

That is how I tend to feel from day to day, which is why the posts sometimes do not come as thick and as a fast as I may like......

Oh!, and it has got pretty cold recently hence the post title......

The Hunter becomes the hunted

People..

After my last post glorifying my superiority over the wild creatures I have been targeted. Mother nature herself has sent a wraith to haunt me.

Climbing into bed last night, I was alarmed to see a shadow detach itself from my pillow and dart silently toward the dark, before I could react, like smoke it had gone...but I knew that it waited, I knew what it wanted.

I really hate mozzies

Especially the ones that target you when you have made the all too reasonable decision a lazy person must make...and not bother with the complicated array of anti-malaria pills I have been given.

Needless to say the critter struck a few times before its luck ran out at 2343hrs last night when is cannoned off my computer screen, was monetarily disorientated and then melded - for ever, into the soft pixels....

It struck gold in a vein behind my knee (aiming to disable me), I am stronger than that but I can only hope it was firing blanks - in a tropically deadly disease manner of speaking...

Like I said, I have been issued with a vast array of anti-malarial drugs, but being a lazy realist I decided early on that attempting to keep track of my intake would be an exercise in futility...I am as ever a hostage to fortune...

This is what could be coursing through my veins....


Yes, bad I know, noone needs that sort of thing wandering around the corridors of your body..

You think that is bad however, take a look at the Mozzie like creature currently buzzing around the corridors of power in London..


looks like a mozzie, acts like a mozzie...

actually a muppet....

Sometines you have to take nature on

Sometimes you have to take nature on, at a recent 'bird' demo in France I caught the eye of this.....I believe it is an American bald eagle, a quick appraisal by both species resulted in the conclusion that northern Continental Europe was only big enough for one of us.

It had on its side, a serious looking beak, claws like a screenshot from Jurassic Park and, as you can see, a sickening size - given its role as a high speed flying creature.

It came at me with some intent......

The result? Try checking its blog, or alternately check out my extremely comfy new down pillow...

Pah!

PS. It is not a yank bald actually...five pounds for a correct ID...

A ponder on the goldfish

I have heard that Goldfish have only 3 second memories, its the reason they can go round and around the fish bowl without going bonkers.

Its also the reason (you have to have at least two fish for this) why, if you watch fish in a bowl, one of them will routinely startle and go hurtling off round the tank haphazardly. Having taken time out for a 3 second stare out the window it has completely lost all knowledge of its 'tankmates' who will appeared to have sneaked up on him ninja style.

To be fair, this fish, which is half way to growing a pair of human bollocks out of its head would startle you whatever your memory..

The thought is this, were you mean, or a young boy, and took a goldfish out of the water and threw it as high as you could, what does the goldfish think it will land as?

For the first 3 seconds Goldie will clearly be in some degree of panic, out of water, at speed and gaining height..

after this though, the memory of the water fades and looking at his situation logically, Goldie, given his current speed, colour, height and trajectory he might well assume that he is a basketball, thrown from the hand of the boy below (perhaps, if he is lucky he will make the hoop).

Although he has a short memory our friend is not stupid and as he reaches the apex of his flight his 'ball' brain will notice a couple of things, he is not as ball shaped as he would like (a puncture?) and he is far from the court, above a pond, this will allow him to deduce that he is not a ball at all(basket or otherwise) but what is he?

And then he begins his descent, slowly at first but then gathering speed , what is he doing? He must be a bird! He looks left and right, there tucked in are his wings, he is diving for some reason but why?

And then he gets it...below him is the pond, and within it strange golden creatures..fish?....prey!

Its clear to him now as he reaches terminal velocity, he is a raptor hunting fish -an osprey!



Picking his target he concentrates upon a glimmer of gold beneath the water...moments before impact he moves to bring his claws to bear, a golden tail appears below him...some sort of eagle?

How brilliant is that..a Golden Eagle, truly I have won the game of life?

And then BOOM, impact..

he is drowning, something in his bird brain tells him that things have gone terribly wrong, he thrashes his wings but all that does is jet him forward into the deep, he can't breathe.....resigning himself to a watery grave he breathes in the cool water.....and swims off to join the school..



Startling the shit out of them as he does....

Bagpuss without the love of emily...

Many people in the world of a certain age will have evolved a deep love of a fluffy orange striped cat called Bagpuss, it was said of this cat...

Even Bagpuss himself, once he was asleep, was just an old, saggy cloth cat, Baggy, and a bit loose at the seams, But Emily loved him...

Recently I have noticed a tragic 'modern day' Bagpuss on my TV screen...

Even Gordon himself, once he was asleep, was just an old, saggy cloth cat, Baggy, and a bit loose at the seams, But not even Emily loved him....

Not even Emily....

Expenses Scandal Rocks sleepy Devon home!

Folks

Despite a strong protest, a recent ruling made by around the dinner table that family spends should be open and transparent has been upheld and as a result I have had unprecedented access into the expenses incurred by my family.

For instance, it transpires that my spouse has been claiming over a £100 a time for 'essential hair treatment'. Now, despite a protest from my spouse that she was 'acting within the rules' as she saw them, I had to point out that whilst she may have wanted to have striking blond hair as part of her spousal look, it was in no way essential to her role that she do so, furthermore, whilst I did admit to being slightly taken by the 'blond bob' had I known the true cost I may have settled for a brunette -indeed, I may well have married a baldie.

Over £7.45 spend over a 5 week period on stickers! This from my eldest (and until now) most trusted son. When asked whether he thought that the stickers were necessary for him to fulfill his role as first son, he brazenly replied "At the time I thought it was, in hindsight, I may pay back any capital gains I may have made when swapping the stickers at cubs". Easy to say now you are bang to rights eh Son?

Should all this concern me or is it an overreaction?

Who knows....

PS - I am expecting a counter explosion when my weekend in London bill hits the public domain.....

Did I say that?

Not so long ago I am sure I swore that I would post more often, even if it meant the posts would be shorter and in some way (if possible) more banal than before..so here goes..

I literally only have 5 mins before I must go to the street to drink..this is not because I live in a poor area where my only access to clean water is the local standpipe, oh no, this is because I live in a rich area and we are allowed to..

No police enforcement zones for us in our little village, if you rough urban types are wondering how you can get the authorities to 'let up' and allow you to enjoy the pleasure of 'Al fresco' (outside a building) drinking with your neighbourhood buddies try not acting like a bunch of twats every Friday / Saturday night on the high street to start with, and then progress to making friends with your fellows living next door (making friends does not include playing your favourite shite record really loud for him all night, or 'gobbing off' as you arrive home late from crap pub).

Its not all daisies and roses for me mind you - its raining even as I speak and the mobile phone signal sucks...

The benefits of Ginger

Folks.. recently I was shocked when I was directed to this website..on this page the author states that...


"Ginger has long been renowned for its use in cooking and for its aromatic smell, but did you know that there are also many health benefits of ginger root such as curing nausea and helping with digestion."


I have several issues with this, as do. I am sure, alot of you out there. Lets look at Ginger...




I will agree that a ginger does indeed have an aromatic smell but I would not use it in cooking (although sugar puffs use it in their flavourings).


But the biggest shock came when I read that Gingers 'CURE' nausea and HELP with digestion. At my school Gingers were banned from the dining hall until the other kids had left because they induced nausea and did the polar opposite of helping digestion (which I think is a hinder).

In fact Gingers have always induced Nausea within thehog. However I recently seem to have involved another wholly unexpected of response to a Ginger..

I saw this and was sick with lust....sick I tell you

Amazing Weight Gain / Loss

I have evolved the ability to put on a massive amount of weight and then lose it again really quickly..

There must be a gap in the pantheon of superheroes for someone with this ability...someone who could for instance..fit through a gap one day, be unable to squeeze through the next before popping through quite easily on the third day. I could serve alongside that Electra chick as a dashing stretch-marked sidekick.

Here she is in all her glory...

Oh, silly me, that is just a cartoon, I have just been informed (by ESP) that that is not the right Electra...this is the right one...

And here she is again, having had the benefit of living life for a weekend with her faithful sidekick -'Slimofat Hog'

And now a test....

Can you guess the link?

How do I do this amazing thing you cry?...

I use beer. By simply drinking 10 (rough figure) pints of good honest ale (and maybe the odd beer snack) the other day I increased my body weight OVERNIGHT from 74 to 78 kg...and before you suggest water retention, I performed the weigh-in fully dehydrated having just produced a thick yellow stream that the honey monster would have been proud of. (he of sugar puff fame..don't get it? Simply do not drink for a day whilst exercising and then collect some of your wee...open a pack of sugar puffs...smell both....).

Then, despite eating normally and doing nothing at night except rolling around in bed moaning as a sickly cold sweat poured from my body.....hey presto by morning the weight had gone?

I am talking about 5.5 % of my body weight here people, just appearing and disappearing at the slightest drop of a few pints...

If there are any doctors out there who can help I would love an answer...

Poverty Stricken

My country is up in arms! It turns out, according to most of the papers that have flashed past my eyes today that the Government -Darling of the Reckoning fame - has declared a class war!!

They intend to grind the rich into the dust with measures aimed at destroying their wealth, the TIMES screams that those earning over £150,000 will be hardest hit! (aren't they always?) and gives some shocking examples as to the level of suffering that will result from the 50% tax and other extreme 'red' measures.

In a typical case one of these poor individuals stands to lose almost £80.00 a week under the new arrangements...that's right, eighty of your standard British pounds (which are declining in value as we speak).

The Future of the Square Mile according to the London TIMES.

Is this really war on the rich?

By my very crude math (note the trans-Atlantic terminology) a bloke on £150,000 a year earns roughly £2100 a week after tax. £80.00 loss, its the sort of money such a man would happily spunk (great phrase) on a bottle of bubbly...fuck my old boots, but you can almost imagine his kids not eating at Claridges that week...


For information on how to conduct a proper class war, I suggest the current bunch of spineless pseudo socialists consider the example of either the French approach (circa 1789–1799), or for a more gloves off and up to date effort - explore the Russians efforts to rein in the rich.

Off with their heads!

During the first two months of 1917 Russia was still a Romanov monarchy. Eight months later the Bolsheviks stood at the helm" thus began Mr Trotsky in his classic 'The History of the Russian Revolution'. Now we are talking...

1917 - And no beating around the bush

Why the hype about darlings measures now? We really are turning into a nation of drama queens.

I include a picture of a real Drama queen as an example....Elizabeth banks...(tenuous link I know)


On second thoughts, the more Drama queens the better...

Day Of Reckoning?

I am told that today, the British Chancellor, Alistair Darling (who unlike the German Chancellor deals with budgets not decisions) faces his 'Day of Reckoning'.

I presume this has something to do with the budget that Prime Minister Gordon Brown (who unlike the Prime Minister of Ghana deals with dithering not decisions) wrote for him...

Take a look at the man who is facing this reckoning....

Does not look capable of dealing with a trip to the gents let alone a reckoning does he? I have not much experience with 'reckonings' but the sort of person I would want beside me when facing one is not pictured above.

This mad twat however would seem to fit the 'bring on your reckoning' bill..

I know who I would rather reckon with or without....

April Resolve

I have been a poor blogger of late, I think this is because of an underlying laziness problem as I have explained before but also because of the habit I got into of crafting too bigger posts...

My life has evolved at speed since I have been away, I have spent a week at a caravan park, put on half a stone, agreed to go to Afghanistan and redefined the meaning of farting.

I am going to try a stint of quantity not quality blogging and see how it goes, whats that you say? A picture?

If I must...
Quite disturbing this....the face, the tits, the waist..all wrong

Teething

If you have not yet evolved to the 'bearing children' stage - and many don't bother at all (who can blame them), you will maybe have heard the term 'she's / he's teething' without fully understanding the full horror of this process....

If you have older kids this may ring some bells, if you are in the 'slack water' between a baby and a teething baby standby!

One day your little darling is just about walking, perhaps responding well to various carefully applied stimuli such as 'in the night garden' (check this out, it will blow your mind, kicks such mindblowing wonders as the Magic Round-a-bout and the tellytubbies into touch) and crisps, sleeping through the night etc and the next...

Good grief... nose a constant stream of gravity defying bright green snot which is capable of transiting both down the face in the traditional manner but also 'uphill' to matt in the hair...

Added to this is a constant stream of goo from the mouth, bright red cheeks and a new and nasty temperament that would makes a hound of hell look like the Andrex puppy...and the nights....gone, to be replaced by hazy memories involving poo, medised, (Medised has something of a 'cult' status amongst many parents - is the closest thing to a sleeping pill you can give a child and not be arrested by social services) and screaming..

You just don't need this...

I do hope this evolution does not last too long because I will run out of reasons to sleep out under the stars before long...

Keria

Today I saw some pictures of Keria, and I thought I better get some thoughts down on the subject which is way more interesting then you guys might think..

Check these fine looking guys for instance..

These Kuih keria (a.k.a Kuih gelang) are sweet potato doughnuts. They resemble the regular ones except that they are made with sweet potato. Each doughnut is rolled in caster sugar - nice! This is usually eaten in Malaysia during breakfast or in the morning tea hours of the day, I have never tried them myself but they look good and given the use of sweet potato I imagine they would be perfect as part of a calorie controlled diet...

Somewhere in Greece lies the little known village of Keria, within whose confines we find a slightly more famous Byzantine period (13th century) domed church which is famed for the amount of ancient spolia that had been integrated into its facade. Old Roman gravestones and bits n' bobs of marble were put to good use by the medieval builders - who were no respecters of the stones' original purpose or orientation and put things in upside down or on their side. The result is you imagine akin to what would happen here in the UK if Wimpey Homes able to get planning permission in old grave yards...(clearly the walls would be a tenth of the thickness shown here and alot more bones would be used around the frames).

This is the Keria Rose, also known as the swamp Rose; it is said to signify the Decrease of Love, Jealousy and lost Joy all at once, which is mighty impressive for a little flower, even if it does live in a swamp, the only other swamp creature that can achieve this is, I think, Kermit the Frog, anyone who saw his impassioned pleas to win Miss Piggy could not possibly disagree. Ever since the fleeting succes of 'Its not easy being green' he has been in a downward spiral....

As for this Keria...

The smart folk at Heather Road tell us that 'The Keria Kidney table is the perfect shape to accommodate the keria bench (of course! How silly of me, no wonder I have had problems in the past matching my Keria bench to tables). The table is manufactured using mortise and tenon joinery (really?) with 100% plantation grown grade A teak (never except grade B) from the island of Java.

I cannot show you a picture of this wonder due to copyright issues so you will have to click the link but let me tell you it looks alot like what you imagine a kidney shaped wooden table might look like....

For information the mortise and tenon method is a nice alternative to nails...

However, these guys have taken it to a new level...

This is a clear statement to the kidney shaped table makers...involving their ass, their product and a bitch...

And so to Keria, or for those that have spotted the deliberately misleading spelling Keira..yes the one you thought..this picture caught my eye..

Okay so she is holding her breath and it looks like it could be pre-breakfast but even so...

It was created by these dudes I recommend you check out some of their other specials.

And to finish an actually photo of the beauty...

Well okay, a little altered about the chest (trying to help out), what about these to finish? A true English Rose...

The Cruel Return of winter

I do not normally have much affinity with Germans..

This picture was taken on a recent trip to Hamburg...it seems they never learn...

Accept one I knew, a Captain in the Army with a pronounced comedy German accented English...not only de he souzd like zat..but he had taken to answering his mobile with the immortal words....

" Ello? Ja? Dis iz Arzthuuur, king of ze Britons, ow may I help? Nine Nine, Entschuldigung Bitter - Ja, dis iz Heinz.....

However, I understand now how they must have felt when their jaunt to Moscow was cut short by unexpectedly cold weather...I had this, this morning when heading out on my bike...having stupidly hailed the start of summer last week it was a cruel blow to be peddling through a biting minus 2 degree wind wondering whether frost nip is an acceptable reason for a grown man to cry...

It is understood by the hog that the French suffered a similar fate on the way to Moscow..I will however never understand how a Frenchman feels...We English will never understand anything about our randomly hysterical, love crazed, drunken, beret wearing revolution starting friends across the channel...

Can anyone empathise with this....

Although the women are less hard to fathom...I am reading this chick like a book.

Driving like Nigel

Folks, when I was a youngster (I still am to compared to many, you know who you are, no names - no pack drill) I used to race around the countryside like Nigel (pictured above) in a variety of cheap as chips motors...

Interestingly I am not even sure chips are that cheap anymore, these are the English chips I am talking about, many of you Johnny foreigner types will know them quite incorrectly as french fries -everybody knows the only things the french fry are snails and members of the resistance. Last time I pooped into my local chippy I came away with not much change from a fiver...shocking

I do however love chips....

So the point, my cheap as chips motors were designed for 'boy racing' around the lanes of Britain as fast as I could.. in classics such as

The Triumph Spitfire Mk IV

It was my first motor and was nicknamed (as is the fashion amongst youngsters) Alice, which actually stood for Advanced Locomotive Intensive Cruising Equipment...mega

And my personal favourite the Delorium..

Here is a pic of me at college with my car and a cheeky young lady I picked up using the 'wing doors' (I used Just for Men - junior to create the classic grey look so beloved of early nineties student chicks).

A sad fantasy my friends, the real beast was a VW Scirocco GTX...boy could she put a ford fiesta back in its box, especially going up hill..

I have sadly evolved into a Renault Grand Scenic driver, obsessed with my fuel consumption figures (cool read out on the dash) and the amazing versatility of the seating arrangements (really, as an engineer...), this is driven in part by the fruit of my loins and lack of bulge in my wallet...

I hereby declare an intent to evolve back...I will drive again....but not in a sad middle aged racer way I hope...