Journal Entries

hey you kids get orf ones lawn

Posted Jun 26, 2006

so it was the queenies 400th birthday bash at the weekend and she had a big tellified bonanza show for hundreds of kids at buck house. there was ronnie corbett, harry potter, the faceless five from blue peter, jonathon ross, that girl from eastenders and that fellah from the coffee ads and tracy beaker, joe pasquale and the ever present bradley walsh. if that sounds a bad enough tasting cocktail of supposed talent then that didnt even do it enough justice. a terrible mish mash of badly drawn out pish about characters from childrens books searching for the queens missing handbag. the only minor saving grace came with a brief visit from the pink leotarded mouse angelina ballerina and my littlest one actually piped up with recognition and interest. the whole thing was only made bearable by the hilarious shots of the watching queen and prince philip. did a smile ever crack across ones lips, it most certainly did not. on every opportunity the camera revealed a sour pussed unsmiling royal face. on one view she was actually examining the royal fingernails with complete disinterest. this is at total odds with prince philip who was sat next to her with a smile of childish 'bloody fools!' glee slapped across his coupon throughout. not suprisingly the snippets of her madge quickly petered out after a few minutes into the show when the cameraman fast realised he was on a loser. a half hearted speech finalised proceedings, with a glum faced queenie proffering some sage wisdom about childrens literature before buggering orf stage as quick as the royal legs would carry her. when you consider that the whole bash was organised for, and in celebration of, her madgeness, you would of thought that a brief smile or even false indication of enjoyment, or anything other than complete pained disinterest, would of been in her remit. the only other highlight came in the new report that followed the event, claiming it as a great success, the newsreadcaster joyfully explained that lots of classic childrens characters from books had been there including the now legendary noddy, although there was no sign of big ears. strange. he obviously hadnt seen pc plod as played by martin clunes.

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Latest reply: Jun 26, 2006

ack

Posted Jan 17, 2006

i am not a predator. by that i mean that i do not prey on my fellows. well not intentionall. i meaning that i never deliberately take advantage of those who are weaker, smaller, slower or just generally more confused than i am (few though they may be). i am not a user. i have absolutely no intention of ever furthering myself at anyones cost but my own and my modus operandi is to live quietly and to let live on an even more muted level. but make no mistake, this faux hippy happiness of mine does not make me a vegetarian. far from it. this here is no mere plant eater. no cumbersome diplodocile like target for the predators that there actually are out there. i am no straight pushover. i have a bark right enough, though tis oft far worse than any half hearted actual bite i could profer these days, but that is not yet common knowledge so i can use my howl when i must. whenever i need a deterent i can bark so i do bark. and i do bark. i growl and i hunker myself up to set any would be aggressors running for the hills. running scared and rueing the very thought that i could ever of been their target. but tis little more than an empty threat. mere hot air and low sound. truely, this is what scares me the most though. not that i have the potential of a predator but that one day i may become prey. that i may become a victim. for as the unpleasant adage goes 'those who live by the sword...' you see, while i still have my size, my strength and my angry bark i am relatively safe, but as each day passes i lose a little more. i age a little more, i shrink a little further, i weaken. and soon as yet i may appear as nothing more than some tasty morsel to be snapped up mercilessly by whatever badass sweetback predator is new on the block. yes a predator i may not be, but nor do i desire to be prey. this is why i must get out. and soon.

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Latest reply: Jan 17, 2006

pft

Posted Jan 4, 2006

Charlie wis laughin when he cum back into the cell. Proper fit to bust like. He bounces his shoulder oan the doorframe wi an aww fork and literaly runs oer to the cludgie in the corner ta relief hisself wi a quick slash, only as 's still laughin like a good un the pish is splashin over everywhere.

"Watch yerself ther big man" ah warns him, whilst ahm movin me pillow oot o danger like. Ahm on the top bunk so I reckon ahm pretty safe, but ah still dunnae wan none o his pish spraying on me an mine. He's too busy laughin ta ken me tho. The mans almost greetin like a bairn nae he's laughin so much.

"C'moan, clue us in, wis the joke" I sez and he zips up the auld felly and sez tae me "Well I wis jus in the teevee room, ye ken, tha wan songs o praise was aun, the old wifey religious programme wi the young noncy voiced gadgie on it? wi them all singin hymns an that?"

I sez "Aye" as I ken wit he's oan about.

"Well," he sez wi another burst of laughin as he reminds hisself
"There was this priest felly on it, ken, an he's washin yon feet o the congregation, all the auld wifeys."
"Washin their feet?"
"Aye, it wis supposed tae be symbolic an all that, least thas wit that young narrator gadgie wis sayin; a commemaritive act harking back to the last supper when Jesus performed the same sacrificial act upon his disciples of blah di blahdy blah, I cannae remember it all mon."

I sez "So yis laughin like a pranny cos sum priest gadgie wis washin an auld wifeys feet on tha telly?' an he flops down on the bunk below me, lies hisself back and replies up ta me, "Nae, not cos hi wis washin their feet, but cos o what he wis washin their feet in!' as if this somehow explains it all.

I still dunnae understand tho so i sez 'Well, wit was he washin thier feet in then?"
He sez "A bowl." I sez "A bowl?" an he sez "A bowl." agin.
I let this settle fir a second then I go "Righto, a bowl, well excuse me while I proper shite meself laughin now."

He pokes up at me lieing on the mattress above him and sez, a wee bit huffy like "Oi! it was nae jus any auld bowl, ken, it wismahbowl he wis usin ya radge."
I sez " Yer bowl? I didnae even know yis had a bowl?" and he goes "Aye, just the wan, the bowl wit I made ken."
So i sez "An yer tellin me that that wis the bowl oan the telly? yir bowl? yir won?" and he sez "Aye mah bowl, the wan wit I made, twas mah bowl which wis wrapped around a bunch of auld wifeys feet on songs o praise, mah bowl wit was bein used by a priest, wit about that then eh?"

I goes "Hold up tho Charlie auld son, how did ya know it wis yer bowl?" and he sez "Well ahve only ever made wan."

I sez "Aye, right," an ah shek ma heid "but thus was it then for defo? ohn the telly? ure bowl, for sure?" and he sez "Aye a green wan, an that narrator gadgie was even explaining how poigniont it was for the archbishop to be using an earthenware pot crafted by an inmate taking part in the local prisons recent outreach programme, merely adding to the symbol of redemption and blah di blahdy blah agin, but even thats not how i knew it wis mah bowl, ken, I knew it wis mah bowl straight away cos I recognised the pattern I'd put on it."

"The pattern?"

"Aye the strange but simple and effective hypnotic Eygptian Eye motif stamped repeatedly around the bowls rimsee its a pretty unique wan, ye ken."

I shrug, its no many people, inside or oot, who can claim to have made a bowl thas been used ohn the telly, so I'm mildly impressed like, but I still dunnae get the joke so I sez "Bit, say it wis yer bowl ahn songs o praise an that, still wits so funny aboot it?"

He dusnae answer right off, thers a brief pause while I hear him spark up a lighter, then he blows a lungful a smoke oot as he replies slowly, fir my benifit, like ahm sum kind of mong "Well, I wish pished orf win I wis makin the bowl, ye ken, Ah jus wanted to get it done and get outa ther, get ootside fir a fag, but I still had tae decorate it yis see, so I made the pattern real quick like, using the materials wit i had to hand like."

"How?"

"Well," he grins "ah jus poked it a few times wi me knob."

Now ahm laughin "Ahh charlie yi doss, thats rank!"

"Yis tellin me, a wis pullin clay oota ma bell fir the best part o a week," he coughs thoughtfully, "bit then they do say that fame comes at a price, ken."

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Latest reply: Jan 4, 2006

pah

Posted Oct 27, 2005

my son said 'Dad, instead of just getting the job done, why don't you try enjoying actually doing it?'. my eight year old son said that. eight. this bright philosophy proffered innocently from the back seat of the car whilst i was angrily parking up so we could go to the pictures. such profundity from an eight year old. such astuteness. oh it may not sound that illuminating to you but let me assure you it is. when it comes to me that small nugget of wisdom is spot on. bull's-eye. any prize from the top shelf. you see i have lost the understanding of the moment. i can no longer appreciate it. i know this. years of pressure, commitment, mortgage, marriage and mundanity have slowly eroded a crucial ability. that of being able to extract pleasure from mediocrity. that of enjoying the pleasures of simply being alive, of functioning. in my life today i live blindly, racing from one tangible deemed as pleasurable event to the next and switching off, becoming an automaton in between. in my life today i always need something to look forward to. a mental crutch. i always employ the attitude of stomping my way through the majority of life's tasks just in order to get to the finish line for finishings sake. in many ways, for want of completing the journey succesfully, the journey itself is lost. unfortunately, by definition, most of life is mundane and to not appreciate it or to simply wish it away for the occasional bout of pleasure is to wish away your very life. to waste your time. i know this. i know i do this. i just never thought anybody else knew until my son spoke. of course such public outing of my mode comes too late for me. enlightenment and recognition do not always equal change. so i daresay i shall continue with the path of least resistance, continue with my bad-tempered rush through the majority of my time just to reach the good bits. not even noticing the roses let alone stopping to smell them. but because my eight year old son said 'Dad, instead of just getting the job done, why don't you try enjoying actually doing it?' it means he has noticed the behaviour, no matter however innocent and rudimentary, he has seen, and although an eight year old may not understand, he has still noticed. and i love him for that.

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Latest reply: Oct 27, 2005

Lord of the Chuff Chuff

Posted Oct 25, 2005

Dark forces are afoot across the once peaceful Isle of Sodor, Thomas must journey up the auld disused track that climbs the black mountain and face the growing evil head on else the entire Island is doomed. Along the way he is helped by Terence and Bertie, but hindered by the antics of the treacherous Gordon and Edward who have blindly succumbed to the power of the fat controller.

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Latest reply: Oct 25, 2005


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