27/12/11missing mousetrap, Dobbies breakfast and The Big Boy's Toy Shop
Even more surprised than I usually am when I see a dead mouse, though I should expect to see dead mice, it still freaks me when I do. I haven't yet managed to do this, lift a slate tile and see a dead mouse, and not involuntarily exclaim something out loud. Something along the lines of...feck's sake! or OMG!
I'm guessing there's a Grey Squirrel running around with a mousetrap attached. I'm keeping a look out for it, though I suspect it's kinda unlikely it'll return. Meanwhile I've been to Amazon and ordered another mousetrap twinpack.
With The Sis-In-Law visiting her lovely family in Germany and The Husband still at work in Norway, The Bro invited me out to breakfast and a run into the Big Boy's Toy Shop in Edinburger. How could I resist? We had a great cooked breakfast at the Livingston Dobbies Garden Centre. Dobbies do a two-for-the-price-of-one cooked breakfast between the hours of 9am and 11am, your choice of 6 items from the hot servery...including tomato, link sausage, square sausage, scrambled egg, fried egg, potato scone, hash browns, baked beans, black pudding, erm, what else, ahhh...bacon, think that's them all but I could be wrong, and your choice of a big thick slice of either white or brown toast, and a drink, which can be tea, coffee or the fizzies. All that, times two, for only five and a half of The Bro's Scottish pounds.
That's £2.75 for a meal that fills you up entirely for the rest of the day. I'm so full I haven't eaten anything else today...has to be the most cost-effective way of surviving in these times of austerity. I should go every day, especially if I go with someone else who pays. THAT would be THE very best cost-effective daily living budget. You could actually stay alive for free.
After our delicious brecky The Bro and I headed into The Big Boy's Toy Shop AKA Machine Mart, the specialist supplier of power tools, machinery and workshop equipment in Edinburgh. The Bro had a VAT-free ticket he just couldn't refuse to use, and he needed a...summit and loads of bits. I tried to pay attention, honest I did, but him and the shop guy were speaking a foreign language.
I've been in The Big Boy's Toy Shop before, twice already, quite recently, with The Husband. I swear one of the shop guys was looking at me funny, the guy who sold The Husband a generator a couple weeks ago. He had this sly smirk look on his face that said...she's being unfaithful to one of them. I felt like such a power tool slut.
26/12/11Christmas Weekend, The Shining, Unstoppable and Shrink
Hope you all had a well fabby Christmas. The way it went here, as previously blogged, The Bro and Sis-In-Law and The Husband and I, we did Christmas dinner already, and shared a lovely time, delicious meal and had such a laugh. I spent time with The Parents, and The Boy and I did pressie stuff on Christmas Eve's Eve. This all left me family Christmas done and done, so I was all ready to go spend Christmas day in with The Husband in Norway.
The Husband was on-call you see and duty-bound to remain in Norway. Our favourite Norwegian hotel, The Hummeren in Tananger had given him a key. The Hummeren closes for Xmas, but quite astoundingly, trusted The Husband to stay there and gave him a key to the main door.
Hence, there I was on Christmas Eve, flying to Stavanger via Amsterdam. Of course I prefer to fly with The Husband so I don't have to focus, but when called on to go solo, I can do, and the more I do it, the better I'm getting at it. Edinburger Airport is always easy, it's small and my only worry was at the check-in desk. They had a seasonal sign declaring NO CRACKERS.
I didn't take it personally...they're talking about Christmas crackers, the ones with cheap gifts, a party hat and a joke inside. I had four in my suitcase. Now, remember, I'm the woman who took indoor sparklers to the USA, back again, then unintentionally took them to Holland. Then The Husband explained to me them's fireworks, they come under the heading of 'explosives' when you're anywhere near an aeroplane. I admit, I did consider saying nought, but in that few seconds I had to decide, I reckoned the seasonal sign made it very clear, leaving no room whatsoever for pretend innocence.
I fessed up and told the woman I had four Xmas crackers. She instructed me to step to the side and remove them then come back, which I did. I handed them over, not particularly annoyed at all. My suitcase had a load of Christmas dinner stuff, some of which might be illegal to take over borders. But I didn't know that at the time, honest. No, really. I swear.
At Schipol Airport I managed to stay on track and the flight to Norway was more than half empty. It was so empty the KLM crew gave us all a savoury AND a sweet bag of nibbles with our drinks.
I arrived in Norway with all my lovely Christmas dinner goodies. I was planning on spoiling The Husband with just how wonderful a non-cook Christmas dinner can be. We had thick turkey slices, wraps, potato salad, 6 different cheeses, sundried roasted tomatoes, char-grilled artichokes, a festive Brussels pate with cranberry, oatcakes, mini pork pies, a mini stilton cranberry and spinach quiche, Christmas cake, Mince Pies, Christmas pudding and extra-thick Remy Martin Fine Champagne Cognac brandy cream. A chocolate Santa, a box of Thorntons chocolates, Pringles and a tube of fruit pastels (one of The Husband's favourites). I took cocktail sticks for the cheeses, festive red napkins, disposable cutlery and plates and a fine bottle of Pinot Grigio. Did I forget anything? I DON'T THINK SO!
Sterling work in my less than humble opinion. And The Husband agreed. She shoots, she scores! How good am I. That's not a question, just a declaration.
I also took a couple of DVDs. On Christmas Eve we snuggled up in bed and watched The Shining on the laptop. What else are you going to watch in an empty hotel?
On Christmas Day The Husband was up and away early to get the boring work stuff out the way. When he came back around 11am we met three German kitchen staff in to do 3 hours food prep for a big Boxing Day lunch. They made us a full-on eggs and bacon breakfast. We hadn't been expecting that, was yummy.
After the yummy we headed off in the hire car, to the snowy bits of Norwegian mountains. Up we went till the ears were popping, the ground was white and The Husband threw a snowball at me and the G10.
Back at The Hummeren, mid afternoon, about 3pm, we were having a look around hoping to watch a DVD on a better sound and vision set-up, because the laptop screen was a bit small and the sound too quiet. The owner of the hotel dropped in at the same time, we told him our thinking. Ahhh he said, in Norwegian...out of a walk-in cupboard he wheeled a 50inch flatscreen TV. That got hooked up to the DVD playing laptop. Sound was still insufficient...ahhh he said again and came back with a surround sound system to be connected to the laptop/TV combo.
While they were fixing the sound and vision I'd been setting out the dinner on a table in the lounge. As if the proprietor hadn't provided enough for us already, he then came in with an ice-filled champagne bucket and a bottle of his favourite white wine which he gifted to us.
Then he took up the G10 and did photographer duties, there was nothing this hotel proprietor was too busy to help us with.
We watched Unstoppable then Shrink on DVD. Dinner was fabulous and the movies entertaining.
Today I flew back home again, on my own and fully focused. Still stuffed with Christmas dinner, all I've eaten today is two packets of the freebie mini Doritos on KLM flights, I'm still full. The Bro picked me up at Edinburger Airport at the same time he dropped The Sis-In-Law off. Happy coincidence our flights were in tune.
23/12/11Happy Anniversary The Mum & The Dad, Vermin News, The Inbetweeners Movie and Merry Christmas everyone
We headed to Sainsburys (other supermarkets are available) and I did a little shopping for Xmas Day (other days are available)...all will be revealed after the event.
It's only two sleeps till the rest of the world does Xmas, but The Boy and I have done one already. We'll both do another on the 25th, but with different people in different places.
Vermin News, the running totals are as follows...
Starry Towers 6 : Mice 0
Starry Towers 8 : The Bloody Squirrels 0
Last evening I watched The Inbetweeners Movie on my own, after inviting The Boy to watch with me and being told that wouldn't be entirely appropriate. Having since viewed the movie for myself, on my own, I agree, he'd have been awfy embarrassed, poor wee lamb, they're terribly easily mortified teenagers. I didn't find it as absolutely massively funny as reviews I've read would have had me believe. But it was alright, I sniggered a few times.
Merry Christmas dear readers, I hope you both have a lovely Christmas. Normal service will resume after the day that is Christmas.
20/12/11sickos, bird seed feeder fixed, high speed memory and Deliverance
First me. At approximately 3pm on the Saturday, standing outside a Berlin tourist shop (the one opposite The Riechstag but it could've been any of them) waiting on The Husband returning (from the loo, but that's not important), I felt a wave of heat, discomfort and dizziness, which I assumed was the obvious, a usual hot flush menopause thing, but that soon worsened to nausea, fatigue and I seriously felt the need to sit down immediately before my legs gave way. I sat on a cube thing. A few seconds later there was the sharp stomach pains. We had to return to the hotel where I spent the next couple hours between sleeping in the bed and shitting the runny stuff in the loo, and I managed to get the right thing in the right place every time, which was a bonus.
We had tickets for The Barber Of Seville at The Deutsche Oper, so about 5.30 I got out of bed, showered, did my makeup and dried my hair, got dressed, even put on my new leather collar tux and glittery heal wedge peeptoes and was sat there with my clutch bag and opera glasses in my hand. The entire process involved a lot of kneeling on the floor or the shower tray cos of the fatigue and nausea, it was awful, but I really wanted to go to the opera. In the end The Husband advised against it. I went back to bed at 6.30pm. So very very disappointed.
I felt totally better and back to my usual self by the Monday, I don't know what caused it, but it had to involve bacteria and my digestive tract in some way. I'd say no shit Sherlock, but...that wouldn't be entirely appropriate.
Now The Husband...he was complaining of cramp in a lower leg, which didn't cause me much concern, it's cramp, you wiggle it, it goes away. It seemed to recur a bit too often, till the Monday on the way home it had become constant, he was limping in the last few hours. At Berlin Schönefeld Airport as we went through security (talk about looking suspicious) he had an episode of breathlessness and chest pain. I was watching him closely which didn't seem to reassure him much (irritable due to his symptoms I'm guessing), but I know what a person looks like in a cardiac event and they don't have a healthy colour about the face. If I'd had the right equipment to hand I would've checked the other vital signs, but I was doing all I could at the time.
This passed, though the cramp/pain/limp didn't. No sooner were we back at Starry Towers then The Husband was off again, away to Aberdoom en route to The Land Of...erm...I'm running out of "The Land Of" references, it was Norway, away back to work. Due to flight issues he booked into an Aberdoom hotel to fly the next day. Was about 7pm last evening just as he'd settled in and made arrangements to meet up with a good friend for coffee and chats, and I'd finished unpacking, doing laundry and other housework, I sat down and cleared my mind for a relax and a think. Was then I became very worried, leg pain, breathless, chest pain. I'm thinking DVT/Pulmonary Embolism. I phoned him with the NHS 24 number. They instructed he go to hospital immediately, and phone 999 in event of severe deterioration.
Was 2 in the morning before he got out of A&E, with two test results still pending, but the calf swelling had reduced a bit while he was in A&E, they'd obviously been monitoring that, and other test results were encouraging. The biggy results were phoned to Starry Towers at 7am this morning, I spoke surprisingly politely to the nice doctor after I woke up . The Husband is in great health but had the worst case of cramp I ever heard tell of. The medical people were 100% behind the need for testing though, them set of symptoms could have been a death sentence.
The Mum had an even worse time of worrying about this than me, I stayed awake till 2am to get the reassuring news then went to bed and slept soundly. The Mum on the other hand hardly got a wink of sleep due to worrying bout The Husband. You see after I updated her around 10pm we agreed I wouldn't phone till the next day cos she'd be sleeping.
Unknown to any of us she'd be so concerned she couldn't sleep, but I didn't phone her because I thought she'd be sleeping, and same vice versa.
In other Starry Towers news, that bird seed feeder I'm convinced a Grey Squirrel broke, in the couple hours before he set off for Aberdoom, The Husband fixed it. It's back in the Starry Towers Lilac Tree, and approximately 100 small garden birds will be forever grateful. Me too, I was figuring I'd need to buy a new one.
At Edinburgh Airport on the way out to Berlin a very nice man in Dixons Travel very enthusiastically explained all about memory card speeds to me. He loved that I had my Canon G10, told me it's the best available so didn't try to sell me a camera. He wasn't even trying to offload a memory card, just wanted to tell me, and show me with a demonstration...by giving me a speedy card to use in the G10 while he danced around to let me take pics of him jigging...that a memory card with a 45MB/s speed, a class 10, would give me amazing results with my G10. Not all shop salespeople are predictably and cynically making their sales targets...who knew?
So back home I got a couple of these Integral UltimaPro 32GB SDHC 45MB/s Class 10 UHS-1 Cards from Alphamemory at Amazon, at the best price of £39.61 each. I got the last two available today, so give them a chance to restock if you want them too.
This evening I watched Deliverance in honour of recently deceased Bill McKinney, none too savoury sadistic rapist in this role, but damn he was frighteningly good at it. That scene has entered my mind far too many times in the years since I first watched the movie. So very disturbing, scream piggy (shudder).
19/12/11Berlin and The Korean Kims
And
on that note, how coincidental that North Korea has some despotic
socialist dictator news. Kim Jong-il is no more, death by physical
and mental over-work apparently, or as the rest of the world knows it, a
heart attack. The official party-line is probably more accurate,
this was no ordinary 'heart attack'. His heart gave up under the
pressure of too much lunatic mental crazy for just one heart to cope
with.On the one hand, death by natural causes in the sure and certain knowledge that his fecked-up abusive rule goes on is a better deal than a bullet in a bunker. He wins...but on the other hand, he didn't have the benefit of taking a spouse/lover and his dog with him. Back to the first hand, he was surely blissfully at peace in the end, knowing the product of his loins will carry on his lunacy legacy in the form of podgy prodigy Kim Jong-un.
The world awaits how this tyrant mini-me situation's going to pan out, one thing's for sure, this particular nut didn't fall too far from the nut tree.
Starry Towers 5 : Mice 0
14/12/11clever dry-cleaning manoeuvres , Xmas shopped, Squirrel News and Due Date
The Husband needed a Tux suit dry-cleaned at very short notice. He's in The Land that is internationally known as Norway, so it was all down to me. One little matter that impacted on this important mission is I don't drive...for the safety of people and all other living creatures on the roads of Scotland. Sooo...I phoned the Sunny D village shop and enquired about the dry-cleaning service they offer. Unfortunately that service provision didn't fit in with The Husband's Tux plans as it would be available for collection too late by a matter of a few hours. I got on the www and the phone, and found a local dry-cleaning service that was prepared to pick up and return to the door of Starry Towers, and dry-clean the suit for the meagre price of only £15 all in. I
would
have paid double that, but that's cool.Deans Dry Cleaners, Livingston, deserve a huge big shout out recommendation. The dry cleaning lady promised the suit would be returned by tomorrow, way it turned out she was at the Starry Towers front door at 9am this morning. Still can't get my head round the measly sum of 15 of my Scottish pounds.
I'm the queen of sorting stuff and The Husband will be kissing my arse for a good long while. Wanna laugh? Right, here you go, like The Mum said...how long has he known you? This was The Husband's suggestion as to how I could fix it for him and his tux. He messaged me online that I could get a taxi into a local town, drop the tux suit into this particular dry cleaners, wait for it, pick it up and take a taxi home. Wait for it? He did emphasise that there was no pressure, just if I felt like it. Sheeesh!!!
Finally, The Boy has given me his official Xmas gift wish-list. He's asked for clothes, a jacket and three tops. However, I've been listening intently for a while, sussing out what he likes, so I've already got him stuff. Smellies and some blingy jewellery items, oh yeah, and some boxers, black with a turquoise star print, because, if I was a boy that's the pants I'd wear. So that's the Xmas shopping done and dusted.
Squirrel
News : here at Starry Towers I recently got the squirrel bafflers to
protect the peanut and fat ball feeders. Good news is the bafflers
are doing a sterling job. I've seen a Grey Squirrel doing his best
and failing. Bad news is I reckon he's turned his attention on the
Squirrel-proof globe-cage-style seed feeder and broke it.Yesterday I watched him try to get to the seeds because he couldn't get to the nuts and balls. This morning the seed feeder is lying in the dirt, the wire hanger bit broke off. This is Squirrel War. Don't be taken in by the supposedly innocent face, he's a c**t.
This evening I watched Due Date. Three things I liked about it, looking at Robert Downey Jr, The Grand Canyon and that bit where he rushes in to see the wrong baby. The wrong baby was the only time I actually laughed, it's not a very funny movie, for a comedy it's a bit sad really. Never mind, could just be my hormonal state.
12/12/11Sunny D vandals, gold Camel Toe and RED
In all my previous Sunny D years I've always felt confident that the kids were of good parentage, even if they were being slightly naughty, I felt I could tell them to behave and all would be well. But this lot are more prone to a higher degree of vandalism than I've seen here before. In years gone by if a bunch of kids were hanging around a bus stop, that's all they were doing, just standing around. This lot kick stuff, climb on top of stuff, make noise. Like they don't particularly fear someone noticing and telling their parents. Which speaks volumes of the kind of parents they have. These children know no better, no respect for the tax payers money, which probably means the parents don't pay any, or at least, don't inform their kids about it.
The unruly behaviour on the bus shelter, and the bin next to the shelter got so bad (one boy in particular seemed to really want to have sexual relations with the bin), I got annoyed. I wasn't sure what I'd do about this but I knew they had to be stopped, chastised by someone. I pulled on my UGG boots ready for action. I considered that I was wearing my new star print hooded onesie, thought maybe I could just pull a parka on and get away with the onesie? Maybe.
While I decided how to approach this street confrontation I had a look out of an upper floor window. One of the options open to me, which would mean I didn't have to actually go out and face up to them in my inappropriate comfy clothing, I thought I could phone the police, but I quickly dismissed that as a waste of time. Or I could shout at them from the window. Give them a fright and stay anonymous...it was just an idea. I was angry, but I wasn't confident. But, bang, bang, bang, someone had to do something.
And someone did. From the upstairs window I saw the crowd dispersing and recognised a senior police woman who lives across the street standing there watching them go. Well done that neighbour.
I caught a bit of X Factor last evening, just enough to remind me how much I dislike all things Cowell. And, two other little matters, that Coldplay singer guy is far too sweaty and the Little Mix girl, the chubby one, in thunder-thigh-emphasising gold lame leggings.
The massively obvious and horrid gold lame camel toe, and they kept emphasising it with the sweeping upwards camera angle. I couldn't stop looking, it was horrendous. On UK TV before the watershed. What were they thinking putting that poor wee lassie on stage in them ugly things? Least they could've done was give her a longer top to hide her camel toe and them thighs.
I tried to watch Black Mirror on CH4 last night, but it was far too rubbish, so I stuck RED into the DVD player. Bruce Willis abducted a girl and got back with his old work mates...and...I don't know what else happened because I lost interest.
11/12/11Carole Myers, mice news and Jehovah's Witnesses target Sunny D
This
is a very disturbing, shocking story of nurse Carol Felstead or Carole
Myers as she later changed her name, who died at age 41 on the 29th June
2005.It's a sad tale of a woman who had spent time in mental health wards and received therapy that included the false implanting of memories of satanic abuse, unknown to her family. Her family were only informed of her death two weeks after she died. There have been claims that no one knew of her family, this doesn't seem to be true, on a very simple level any amateur detective would've thought of, her passport contained her Dad's name and address. Here are the Guardian/Observer article and the family's story told at the Justiceforcarol.com website. And the Private Eye article by Rosie Waterhouse.
As they state on their website..."This website has been specifically created to draw public attention to the behaviour of Dr Fleur Fisher, the Ex-Head of Ethics of the British Medical Association, following the death of our beloved daughter and sister, Carole Patricia Myers (formerly known as Carol Patricia Felstead)."
Starry Towers 4 : Mice 0
Just had some Jehovah's Witnesses at the door asking if they could talk to me about how me and my family can live together forever.
I didn't need to be officially introduced, it was obvious by the cut of their jib and them few unrealistic supernatural words. I immediately told them, politely but firmly, I'm an atheist and not interested in any discussion on the matter. He says, "you're an atheist is there a reason for that?" I politely explained I've been this way for years and nothing they could say was going to change me and that I respect their right to hold their beliefs and would appreciate if they would respect mine, and have a good night. Out there in the cold while I relax by a roaring fire watching a 47" screen, shame bout that.
10/12/11Xmas dinner, a bear, Blasted Heath prize and Amy
It's a bit off-the-wall, but we enjoyed our Xmas dinner today at the Livingston branch of Dobbies Garden Centre and had a great time. We booked a couple weeks ago and made one special request, the Sis-In-Law didn't want bacon with her Savoy Cabbage to accompany her Grilled Fillet of Sea Bass. They said that was fine, and proved true to their word.
When we arrived at Dobbies today The Husband took a liking to this 77cm tall "Premier Sitting Bear". He went off to buy the bear while I went looking for and found The Bro and Sis-In-Law. We all went into dinner with an unpaid for bear, due to the queues at the tills being far too long for The Husband to be troubled with. The staff in the restaurant were exceptionally good humoured, obliging, friendly and tolerant. The Husband had asked for five meals to be booked as he was hoping his Dutch daughter Alice might have been able to visit and be there for the family dinner. She wasn't able to be here, and Dobbies said, OK you've paid x5 £10 dinner deposits, we'll take that unused £10 deposit off the price of your drinks. Which they really weren't obliged to do, we only paid for what we actually consumed in the end.
The table was set awaiting our arrival, with Xmas crackers and party hats for five, the bear took up the empty seat and even got his own hat.
I had the Roast Duck and Champagne Terrine served with Homemade Spiced Cranberry & Orange Compote and Arran Oaties for starters, my main was Grilled Fillet of Sea Bass served with Thyme Crushed Potatoes, Savoy Cabbage and Bacon and Chive Butter Sauce, and finished off with Rich Chocolate Torte and Mulled Pear served with Raspberry and Basil Creme Fraiche.
The 3 courses were followed by complimentary coffee or tea and a Mince Pie. Only £15.95 for the 3 course meal. My favourite, and The Sis-In-Law had the same and was equally satisfied, was the Grilled Fillet of Sea Bass main. Very cheffy to look at, delicious, and the Chive Butter Sauce, mmmmmm. I wish I could open a tin of that every day.
We had a good time, and The Husband even got the waitress to put the bear through her till, which she was then told by her boss that she shouldn't. But she did, and as we exited the building...the alarm didn't go off, so all was well.
The Xmas Bear has been named Honey.
Back at Starry Towers we had a lovely time laughing at The Bro making fun with the bear as if it was a puppet, he was very good at it. The Sis-In-Law borrowed a lacy shrug for a night out and I tried on The Bro's new glasses. I've thought for a while that I probably need my eyes tested, and am totally convinced now because The Bro got his first pair of specs today, they also happen to be the only pair of glasses I ever tried that actually improve my eyesight. It's probably a genetic thing, he's 2 years younger than me, I think it's time I got spectacles.
Regular
readers will know I'm a big fan of all Mr Douglas Lindsay's work, the
Scottish author, creator of the cult "Barney Thomson" crime series.
You'll also know that I have two signed books already, one I purchased
and one which he signed specially for me. You'll also probably be
aware that he has recently started working with the new Scottish
ePublishers Blasted Heath, and that I'm a fan of their work too.There's currently a free Kindle book available at Amazon for a limited period, the Government conspiracy thriller Lost In Juarez, so be quick and get over there/here.
The other piece of Douglas Lindsay Blasted Heath news is that the, signed by Douglas Lindsay, Blasted Heath Boxset Tin I won in a competition recently has arrived. Mr Lindsay has signed his name on his page of the booklet inside, and in big marker pen written a special message to me on the bottom side of the tin. Click on this photie of the bottom of the tin to see the entire prize, the tin, the memory stick with 5 ebooks, the signed booklet and the signed tin rear view. The comp prize was for an ordinary unsigned tin, but I asked nicely. Buy your own at BastedHeath.com.
That's me well made up for a while.
I've listened to the new Amy Winehouse CD Lioness : Hidden Treasures just once since it arrived at Starry Towers yesterday, made me cry in a sad, but a good way.
This is the first I've been able to listen to Amy music since she died, apart from the occasional little snippets of REHAB I get when my mobile phone gets a call or a text. That's been my mobile phone noise since it's release in 2006, I don't think I'll change it ever.
If your looking to me to critique the 12 songs on the new album, you're looking at the wrong person, I can't. It's all good, it's Amy. That's it, all done now, it's all over, the skinny lady has sang.
Meanwhile I got out my July 2011 NME Amy cover and framed it, then I purchased the Rolling Stones Amy cover maxi poster and frame 61 x 91.5cm from HMV.
09/12/11mice continue to die and new travel dryer
Another mouse in a trap this morning, dealt with by The Husband. If by 'dealt with' you mean 'thrown in a wheelie bin', like a Coventry cat. Imagine my surprise, and by 'surprise' I mean 'shock', when I went to put trash in the almost full wheelie bin...on top of the previously put in large kitchen bin bags was a dead mouse, right there, so close to my hand reaching in. This illicits an involuntary scream from me. The Husband, he laughs and doesn't understand why the fuss. Yeee gads!
Reminds
me of a time, maybe 20-odd years ago now, I was at The Parents house,
The Dad was up a ladder to the attic. He was handing items down
and I was there to take them and place them safely on the floor.
To do this I had to climb a few steps of ladder each time. This
time I climbed the ladder, raised a hand, looked up, 1cm from my hand
was a dead mouse The Dad was dangling by the tail. I nearly fell
off the ladder, he laughed, men and their dead mouse jokes.Bargain Of The Week is this great little travel hairdryer. The Okoia HD12 is on special offer at Comet. With a saving of over £15 this is currently on sale for only £4.99.
The most impressive feature in my opinion and why this little dryer caught my attention, is the size and weight, it's so little and light. Much smaller and lighter than my other travel dryer, itsy bitsy compared to any others I've looked at.
It has a folding handle and duel voltage. 1200 watts, two speeds and two temperatures.
I'm always looking to minimise and streamline, lighten and hypersleek-up my luggage contents and this is a brill replacement with that in mind.
08/12/11Heart & Hand shout out, Amy Winehouse, Hurricane Bawbag and mousetraps
That's
twice! Yes
this is my second, and best, shout-out on a Heart and Hand podcast.
Check out "RIP Graham Spiers' Career", get it at
playbackmedia.co.uk. A beautiful photograph of Amy Winehouse leaving Glasgow's Barrowland Ballroom in November 2007 has been donated to her charity by photographer Brian Anderson. The picture was taken the last time she played in Scotland.
Severe storms are hitting Scotland today and my hatches are well and truly battened. I've been following the news on The Twitter throughout the day. All the major bridges are closed, double decker buses taken off roads after one was blown over. Cables down, power cuts all over, a wind turbine blown over, the list just went on and on.
A slate fell off the Starry Towers roof and I had to take down the Squirrel Bafflers and the hanging baskets, which still had Virginian and Night-scented Stocks in flower.
First I saw that a 102 mph gust was recorded at Glen Ogle. Next Aonach Mor near Fort William (elevation 1200m) had reported a wind gust of 130 mph. Shortly after there was a report of 151mph over the Cairngorm Summit. The anti was upped just after with the news that 165mph had been recorded, Cairngorm again. The highest gust ever recorded in Scotland was 173mph back in 1986 again on Cairngorm.
It was so sweet with some Scot naming the storm Hurricane Bawbag and it trending wordwide on The Twitter. Sean Batty, the lovely Scottish weather man was trending later in the day too as a nation held it's breath, would he refer to the winds as Hurricane Bawbag? No he didn't, but Scottish TV (STV) had a bit of fun with it on their website. Sean was trending on The Twitter for a wee while this evening, he was thrilled. For non-Scots, a bawbag is a scrotum.
There are mice outside, because I feed the birds they think it's for them. Problem with them treating the Starry Towers estate like a top class restaurant is that when the weather gets bad they think it's a good idea to come into Starry Towers. We've had 3 or 4 over the years. All the little holes in the house interior, in cupboards and such, are all blocked up, but they still find a way into the attic space on the north wing. So...the remedy...The Dad brought me two mouse traps.
The Dad set them up with peanut butter, but this morning it was down to me.
I gingerly lifted the slate tiles off the itsy little hut The Dad had constructed out of two monoblocks, two slate tiles and a couple sticks of wood.
EEEKK!! A dead mouse, I was expecting it, but you know how it is. The only good thing about this situation was The Dad had got me Intruder The Better Mousetraps. These little traps are made for people who want the least possible to do with dead mice, while still killing them. You simply press to set the trap and it's another press to eject the deceased. And it's reassuring (kinda) that the trap grips the mouse tightly, quickly suffocating without breaking skin, so no messy blood, erm...good.
I went with gloves on and took a plastic bag, I didn't have to look at it's dead little face because it's head was stuck in the trap, I averted my eyes as soon as I could.
The Husband's home for the weekend, he'll be taking over mouse killing duties for a couple days.
07/12/11Tom Cruise and an unexpected frog hat
I
don't particularly like Tom Cruise, but O M bloody G, he deserves some
merit for this stunt. Sitting at the very top of the world's
tallest tower, the Burj Khalifa in Dubai. It's my 2nd biggest
nightmare, I'm strangely scared and OH WOW! and awesome! at the same
time. The picture is to promote his new movie Mission Impossible
4, fact is he's half a mile off the ground. Makes me dizzy,
nauseous and terribly afraid just thinking about it.Yesterday I saw a strange man wearing a slightly inappropriate outfit. OK, maybe it was just different, if he'd been at a music festival or trancing out in Goa with a bunch of fellow Shamanic types on acid, no one would've blinked an eye...they'd just be staring into the middle distance or have their eyes closed.
Anyways, he wasn't in Goa or at Glastonbury, he was in a local town here, late morning, mid week. He had some white tracky bottom type trews tucked into ordinary boots. From mid shin up was the issue. I've no idea what he was wearing exactly, was something white, maybe just a baggy shirt, but with a looser, almost dress-like, kinda butcher's apron without the stripes, longer black tabard type garment with dungaree type straps over the top. It wasn't his clothes that first caught my eye, it was his purposeful stride with arms pretty much akimbo.
He passed me by then slammed a hand down hard on the bonnet of a parked car.
It was only after a lot of furtive glances that I realised what was on his head.
Strapped down with two substantial looking black bands, flattened down on it's tummy, with it's four legs splayed out, was a green frog soft toy, very similar to this one.
Very strange, though he would've even got away with the hat in Goa or Glastonbury.
06/12/11Respiratory Clinic good news, health update, Cain Dingle and my Xmas pressie
A year ago I had a seriously bad chest infection which required steroids as well as antibiotics and led to me attending the Respiratory Clinic with Nurse V. She ran some tests and predicted if I didn't stop smoking I was on track to develop Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. Today was my year later call-back, and I got to surprise her with the good news that I've stopped smoking. She was very pleased.
This time round my test results have improved and my lungs are now age-appropriate, they match the rest of me now. I'd never have expected such an improvement in such a short time, it's only five months later. This should be a welcome incentive for others thinking about quitting.
While I was there we covered a few other things. Number one was I asked for and got a flu vaccine. I usually take this every year at work, as nurses are encouraged to have the jab to reduce the risk of staff shortages at critical flu peek times. As surely everyone must know by now, the influenza vaccine is not a live vaccine, so no, it doesn't give you flu, though if I had a penny for every time I've heard someone complain of being struck down with the flu after having the jab, I'd have in the £5 to £6 range...probably, I'm guessing. This evening there's a mild localised pain to the touch at the injection site, which is to be expected. The injection itself wasn't as stingy as I've experienced in the past. Nurse V told me this year there's a bit of Swine Flu in the vaccine as this is still an issue in the northern hemisphere this Winter.
Next on my 'list' was my nose and it's rather annoying congestion, sneezing fits and having to position a hand so as to hold open a nostril while I fall asleep, not to mention my amnosia. The last time I was with Nurse V she prescribed Beconase Nasal Spray for my hayfever type symptoms and advised me of the proper use of daily oral antihistamines, ie to start taking them before Summer. I followed medical advice, no change. So now I'm on the Nasonex. Momethasone furoate treats the symptoms of allergic rhinitis, fingers crossed.
Last thing on my list...you'll be getting the impression I'm a hypochondriac type person, but I'd argue that's not the case. If I was I'd be at the GP all the time with these individual complaints. The way I do it is I suffer for years before eventually mentioning stuff to a nurse. So, last on the list was my lower back/right shoulder/right arm general aches and pains. This stuff has been bothering me for years. I put it down to natural wear and tear, but it's been getting worse till for a good long while now, the right shoulder can be excruciating, and the recent new right arm issue which was triggered again to the point of, jeeez feck this! by just a spot of light ironing.
I keep wondering if a chiropractor could sort me out. There's a chiropractor shop in the next village along the road. I saw the shop again on the way to the health centre today. So I asked Nurse V what she thinks about chiropathy, is it a legitimate science or under the heading of 'alternative therapy'. I have a natural distrust of 'alternative therapies'. Nurse V suggested a physiotherapy self-referral. So I've completed the referral form and I'll hear from them in approximately 12 weeks, which is fine.
So that's me all health issue updated and on track, I do this approximately once every decade.
I know nothing of The Vampire Diaries, it doesn't appeal. But I keep seeing/hearing the most recent trailer on the telly, and I'm most impressed with this line of dialogue..."I will kill you and everyone you've ever met". Don't know what character is saying it, to who, or why, but wowzer! Everyone? In a usual lifetime, even for a 20-summit yr old person, that's a huge load of people, would be quite a task, and I'm not sure I'd be able to put that much time and effort into evil deeds.
The excitement is building on Emmerdale is it not? I like Cain Dingle, he's THE eye candy, but the script-writers have been really cranking up the reasons-to-dislike-Cain recently. He's had sexual relations with a lot of females, causing bad feeling all over the village, threatening teenagers, one is wee sister, the other the mother of his child. He failed to recognise the importance of his new baby's birth in relation to his sick granddaughter's medical condition, thus pissing his daughter Debbie off too. I think I might have mentioned this GLARINGLY OBVIOUS PLOT-LINE already, yes I did, on the 18/11/11...the evidence is down below. His entire family hates him, including his Dad, he's caused his ex to call off her wedding, so that family hate him too.
He killed their cat fer fecks sake, it's usually enough to place a live cat in a wheelie bin to cause a national TV, newspaper, Twitter and Facebook hate campaign. In the past week the Emmerdale trailers have been hinting heavily at a seriously horrible pending Cain comeuppance will be happening very soon. Judgement Day is coming and Cain'll be left fighting for his life after a violent attack. Please don't kill him off.
I'm really really really excited, The Husband told me today what my Xmas pressie will be. O to the M, to the G, as the cool kids say. I will report at a later date.
05/12/11The Husband home again, snow, Robin Squirrel Baffles, Happy Birthday Bro, Pandas, The Smoother, Alan Partridge and The Hangover II
There's this season's
collaricious outerwear on
The Star Swag Blog.The Husband (and the Z4) eventually made progress and stayed safe and sound, eventually getting off that boat from Norway to Denmark. He travelled down through Denmark, Germany, Holland, then France and back to that bit that tacks onto the arse of Scotland...Engerland they call it...via the Chunnel.
We've got an inch of snow today and my new Squirrel Baffles arrived. Reasons to get the camera out. First up here is the Starry Towers Robin, looking ever so cute and seasonally festive.
So, onto the Squirrel Baffles, purchased from arkwildlife.co.uk at £19.95 each. I'll be calling them Bafflers, sounds more appropriate to me.
Here
they are on their first day in use, unfortunately the two Grey Squirrels
that have been annoying me of late, didn't show their fluffy tails
today. I can't wait to see them being baffled. The Squirrels
go for the peanuts first and foremost, if there's no nuts they go for
the fat balls. The seed mix is in a Squirrel proof cage type
feeder, though I've never seen them even try that. Hopefully
that's me got the Starry Towers bird feeding station 100%
Squirrel-proofed sorted now, I hate watching them going mad on the nuts,
as I fret over the little birds fearing them and their baby bird eating
evil ways.I feed the birds all year round, but the Winter and snow especially, puts me into overdrive care mode. Please feed your garden birds, on the right specially bought stuff, and ensure there's a fresh water supply, especially when it's hard icy frosty cold.
Yesterday there was snow. Not the type of snow that causes problems however, so The Husband and I took a drive into Edinburger. Driving past the Zoo gates there was a commotion, a very controlled commotion.
There were kilted pipers, a bunch of police people and a small crowd of primary school children. There were a lot of Scottish flags being waved, there was bunting of Scottish, British and Chinese flags. Call me cynical, really...go on and call me cynical...you won't be the first...but I'd say the Zoo authorities had approached a local primary school to get this lot to attend. Little kids and accompanying adults doing the flag waving welcome committee duties for the TV cameras. I've never seen such an abuse of children, I've heard of and read of worse, but never seen with my own eyes, anything worse than this.
These little kids put in all that flag waving arm action effort, in the freezing cold, for a lengthy period of waiting time...to watch two lorries with panda pictures painted on the side drive through the Zoo gates. Later, watching TV news reports a few of the children were interviewed, at least them two or three get to say they were on telly. When they grow up and realise they were used by the media, Zoo authorities and politicians in a cruel Panda abuse scam, I'm sure some of them will realise this is their earliest memory of disillusionment, akin to when they first realised Santa doesn't exist.
Sunshine and Sweetie are pawns in the commercial relationship between China and Scotland. China with it's terrible human rights issues and it's Panda candy. Holding out their pandas as bribes and sucked up by Scotland thinking...ooohhh, Pandas, our Zoo attendance figures and profits are going to sky-rocket, thank you China, sook, sook, sook. I'm sickened actually.
Happy Birthday to The Bro today, my wee brother's 2 years younger than me, lets just say he's 40 summit. I sent him a FunkyPigeon.com card this year, the personalised spoof biker magazine one, and the matching mug. Hope he likes.
The Alan Partridge book, I Partridge We Need To Talk About Alan in audiobook form is almost 7 hours of him being very funny. I'm currently listening and loving it. Highly recommended by me.
Another personal recommendation is my Product Of The Week... Maybelline's The Smoother.
A free sample came my way, I don't often bother, but I gave it a fling instead of flinging it in the bin.
This purports to be a skin retexturizing primer which will create a perfectly smooth canvas for ideal makeup application. And it is.
This innovative fragrance free dimethicone silicone-based gel primer does a fine job of smoothing, pore filling, shine-defying and delivering a silky matte appearance and a velvety soft feel.
I've never regularly used a primer before. I did try one a few times years back, but all it did was deposit a scummy layer that the more I touched it, the more it rubbed up into little dry lumps of unwanted nuisance factor detritus and had to be cleaned off again before I could get on with actually applying my face, a disappointing failure, unusable. So I'm really happy with this Maybelline Smoother. It's supplied in a very small pot, but you only require a teensey tiny dab, it spreads very easily, and a little goes a long long way.
I've got a little story to impart. I did blog when I first met the man because I was touched at his telling me the story of his 93 yr old Mother and her love of chewing gum. When I first set eyes on this ASDA delivery man my first thought was he should be retired.
Sad thing is, he delivered my messages the other day and told me that the spirited old gum-chewing mother of his had died. He spoke at length about his Mum dying and the other four funerals he'd attended recently. I was in danger of feeling sorry for myself because of my inability of accepting the idea of death & dying, but I recognised his need as being greater than mine, and let him talk. We were on the doorstep for a while. He was able to bring a lighter note and a smile at the end, told me about when they were cleaning out his Mother's house, they found ten packs of chewing gum.
The Husband and I watched The Hangover Part II. The biggest star of the original The Hangover was Las Vegas, Bangkok could never compete. It was practically the exact same story, only set in the depressingly sad Bangkok.
01/12/11strike action, Jeremy Clarkson, Jeremy Kyle family affair and The Husband survives scary North Sea conditions
The government is now sticking two fingers up to my 28 years dedication. That's not right. I don't think it's just the conservatives, I reckon given the current world financial crisis, which seems to be all about self-serving greedy banker issues, it wouldn't matter what particular political party is in government, we'd be facing the same shit. So I'm not angry at the conservatives per se, just the banking industry and politians in general. Seem they weren't clever enough to see it coming, and if they were...then they're just self-serving bastards.
So here we go...someone had to make the first public dig at the cause. JC's comments on the public sector strike on The One Show have caused ructions. I like Jeremy Clarkson...I like Top Gear & I like his books. I like his pal A A Gill, he's a snobby guy who reviews restaurants and critiques TV in The Sunday Times. Gill is satirical and humorous too. JC said he'd have all the strikers taken outside and shot in front of their families. I wasn't offended, I saw it as a flippant joke, he doesn't actually really want people shot, it was a JOKE, badly timed sure, but just a joke. If this gets him sacked from the BBC and/or Top Gear ditched, I will personally shoot everyone that's complaining about him and demanding his sacking.
I read humour in everything JC writes and hear it in everything he says...when he's being OTT bolshy & non-PC...that's his public persona I enjoy. He might be like that in private... too as your ex-collegue has told you...if he is & given half a chance, I'd probably enjoy a good argument over a bottle of wine with him. Have you heard what he says about motorbikes? My husband is a fan of his work too, and he's currently got 3 motorbikes. Are you telling me you think Jeremy Clarkson would actually have human beings taken outside and shot? He was stupid, insensitive and got it wrong. AND like you say, has apologised. And when I said I'd shoot everyone complaining bout him...I was jokingand if he is...then given half a chance I'd enjoy a heated debate over a bottle of wine with him. I'm thoroughly peed off with the UK public jumping on the outrage bandwagon baying for the sacking of my favourite entertainers.
The bit bout how I'll shoot the complainers...I'm JOKING.The Jeremy Kyle show with the daughter and mother reunited with a son the mum gave up for adoption 20 years ago, him and his brother were put into care way back then. She went on to have MORE children, not just the daughter here.
I was overwhelmed...with the daughter and mother's reactions to the brother/son. All they seemed to say was how gorgeous the man was. Heaven help him if he'd grown up fat and ugly. Looking at the women, I can see why they were so totally and utterly amazed. That's a future JK show and case of Genetic Sexual Attraction waiting to happen.
28/11/11
Signed eBook Tin Prize News and Fatima's nostril invasion
Meanwhile here on The Star Blog, I've got another bit of great news to impart. As I quietly mentioned on here, I won the Blasted Heath tin in the competition held by the lovely guys at this new Scottish epublishers. Well, even better news is they've sorted it for my favourite author, Mr Douglas Lindsay (@thisblastedlife on The Twitter), to autograph my prize!!!
This
is really special for me, and I can't thank all those involved enough.
For 'all those involved' read Allan Guthrie, Kyle MacRae and Douglas
Lindsay himself. I'll put up a photie when it arrives. This
is the good news tweet.It was with more than just a touch of distress that I watched Fatima Whitbread and her nostril invasion. I can't stand the nose thing, I've got an issue with the nose thing, you do NOT touch my nose. Ever. I reckon this is because I've got tiny nostrils, which are easily blocked. Fatima Whitbread's issue was on the other end of the nostril size spectrum. She had a cockroach up her left nostril. That's disgusting. Then she snorted and blew that nose like a coal miner fresh up from the mine. A doctor flushed her nostril with a syringe of water, several times, I lost track of the details, watching through my fingers by this time. I was wondering why they didn't get the tweezers. I'd have just been totally freakin' and screaming TWEEZERS!!!
She took it...like a...man. Dealt with it way better than I could.
26/11/11roses, Hysterectomy News Update & dieting and The Deer Hunter
There's
a piece of swag on
The Star Swag Blog to die for.November the 26th and still roses blooming in the Starry Towers garden. I was seriously tempted to leave them till December, just for the novelty and achievement, but the weather's taken a turn for the windy. Strong winds throwing them around can cause root damage with all the battering, blustering and gusting. From what I understand it's not a good thing to let them carry on flowering too long anyway, sometimes they need to be told it's time to rest. This is the only time of year that I cut flowers from the garden and bring them in to the house.
As regular readers know, I had a total hysterectomy this year, everything went, the womb, the ovaries and the cervix. With the gynae bits also went any tone I had in my tummy area. The bruising and damage was quite extraordinary at the time, therefore I'm putting a gruesome reminder here again. I can't believe that was me.
Five months later I'm left with a 6 and a 1/2 inch bikini line scar which is obviously much less dramatic looking, but the tummy has felt alien to me ever since. You loose the ability to suck it in. Well, until now. My body is getting better.
I'm dieting and I've found my abdominal wall muscles again. The dirty E word...exercise...has entered my world. I'm tensing regularly, only problem I have is I can't suss out how to tense and breath at the same time.
I've lost 6lbs recently and am 8 stone summit, I hated being 9 stone summit. Once I get back to 8 and 1/2 stone I will take a new photo of the tummy and scar and put it up here in celebration. The positivity of loosing weight and working them muscles again, combined with the smoking cessation, and the obvious biggie...cancer risk reduction...makes the hysterectomy experience very worthwhile in the long run.
The kick up the backside I needed came from The Husband. While he was making catty comments...which he did at times, lets not pretend he's a saint...I wasn't impressed. When he took control of his own little bit of unsightly weight gain, that's when I got jealous. He saw recent photies of himself in his motorbike racing leathers at the track and appalled at his sausage filling bursting out of it's sausage skin appearance he just went for it. I'm not sure how much he's lost exactly, but the difference is obvious. I couldn't have him getting slim and me not.
This evening I watched The Deer Hunter yet again. O. M. Geee...what a movie, Walken and De Niro, both in their youthful top form. Horrendous scenes, De Niro's character Michael is such a hero and Walken's Nick is too. "Here's to Nick"...indeed. This is the movie when I first fell in love with Mr Walken, over three decades ago now, a love that hasn't wavered, not for a second, not even Joe Dirt could sway me.
25/11/11winning
Me! Me! Me! I won! I've won a Blasted Heath competition. Blasted Heath are the groovy new Scottish digital publishers I was recently blogging about, the business of Allan Guthrie and Kyle MacRae. You can find them on The Twitter @BlastedHeathens.
The competition was to win a Blasted Heath Tin and was hosted by Sarah at her lifeinabreakdown.com blog. Entrants had to post a comment telling Kyle and Allan why they deserved to win the free Blasted Heat Tin and "make it as witty and well thought out as you can! Make them laugh and smile".
Was no sooner read than done. I was witty, I didn't have to think about it, I made them laugh and smile...it was easy I just told them the facts.
Click on the picture of the blog comment revealing me as the winner to see my entry, the winner announcement, Sarah's thank you and my acceptance speech, which has been called awesome.
23/11/11new Bosch, Sheep magazine, BG & SKY problems, Source Code, Annie Hall and Bridesmaids
The new Starry Towers Bosch is in situ, simultaneously warming the cockles of my heart and performing extraordinary laundry services in shhhh silent stealth mode. It's fabulous, a baby could sleep in that thing on a 60 degree cotton wash. I keep looking for stuff to wash, clothes, coats, rugs, duvets, pillows, shoes, curtains, anything I can fit in the drum. Loving it.
There's a new celeb in the Shetland Sheep world. In the November issue of the magazine The Shetland Breed, The Dad appears twice. There's two photographs of The Dad and Rench Marilyn II. As a bonus claim to fame, I'm now a published photographer, credited on page 16 for my photo of The Dad and Champion Rench Marilyn II at Yetholm this year. On the cover of the magazine are three of The Deceased Octogenarian Friend's young rams, The Dad's Rench Dandy is at the back of the trio.
I'm so proud. Of The Dad, and Tom, and the sheeps he named after me, and...ME! Published! On paper, not just on my own www website.
British Gas cold called me yet again today. They probably don't consider it cold calling because Starry Towers is officially still linked to British Gas as the upstairs is with them, even though we shut the supply down two years ago, they still send us bills for zero of our Scottish pounds. The plan is to have one gas supply from one provider for both floors of Starry Towers once we install a new boiler and heating system. One thing I'm certain of, once this Starry Towers project is complete, we most definitely won't be purchasing our gas from British Gas.
Today BG was represented by a young sounding man called Chris. He quickly became subtly condescending, then down-right offensive. "You seem to be upset Mrs H..." (and for H read the H surname I had before I married and became the H I am now, remember I only marry men with H surnames)..."...I don't understand why you seem to be upset...", he then said, "I've only told you I'm phoning from British Gas and my name is Chris, so what bit of that had upset you, is it BG or my name?"
I could hardly believe his cheek, he interrupts me, he invades my house with his cold call, then gets mouthy like a teenager. Quite flabbergasted so I was, I told him I wasn't upset, I'm annoyed at these phone calls trying to offer me some sort of deal to upgrade or benefit in some way...on an account that reads precisely £0 every time they make out a bill to us. He persisted, I told him at one point that he was cheeky (and not in a good way), he kept on keeping on, I had to talk over him to tell him I'm sick of their calls and say "goodbye, you have a nice day Chris" as I put the phone down on him.
Another big company is the cause behind my having to deal with these cold calls, and it seems like not a day goes by without at least one of these crap calls making me rush to pick up a phone before quickly realising two minutes of my life is about to be wasted. I am so pissed off with SKY. SKY is now our broadband, TV and phone provider. Try as we might, we can't get them to provide the caller display function. When we were with our last provider it worked just fine. The Husband has activated the service on the SKY account, we've followed their trouble-shooting jump-through-the-hoops advice, we've done the *234# thing and received the message 'callers identities will be displayed', but that's a blatant untruth. If SKY could sort this problem, then I could ignore the cold calls. Driving me mental, but I can't find an answer.
The Husband was home for the weekend and we watched Source Code, entertaining enough and also kinda made me thoughtful, on the subject of death. Yes, I enjoyed the movie, and brushing the sad bit out my mind swiftly, yes it was good.
TV is crap just now, so last night I watched Annie Hall. Jeeez...Woody Allan. Maybe I got bored with his selfish neurosis over several decades, maybe all that 35 years age gap marriage with Soon-Yi, the adopted daughter of his ex Mia Farrow, is just too big a deal for me. And Mr Walken doesn't have a big enough part to make it all right. I revisited Annie Hall three decades later because I just read a Sunday Times Magazine interview with Diane Keaton. She seems a sweet lady, and immensely complex...and neurotic therapy addict.
This evening I watched Bridesmaids. Very funny, a lot of scenes made me giggle out loud, or GOL as I like to call it.
18/11/11washing machine RIP, Dingle dilemma solved and Tell 'Em Steve Dave
Problem
here at Starry Towers, the washing
machine is kaput. It's been making a lot of bad noises for a few
weeks, then I noticed clothing was a bit soapy at the end of the wash,
it wasn't rinsing properly. After that it just stopped spinning,
so the clothes were soaking wet when they came out. I've washed my
last load with that machine. Messaged The Husband on the www, he
wrote back saying a new BOSCH WAS32461GB 1600 Spin Washing Machine
will be delivered on Saturday. That's the way to do white goods.After nearly two years (they started in February 2010) of free funnies from the lovely guys at Tell 'Em Steve Dave I've splashed out a few $s to purchase the podcast specials, which can be got at the online music store Bandcamp.com. The freebies can be got from Kevin Smith's SModcast.com.
16/11/11Norway 2011 three times and Rob Brydon audio book
My Continental Tripping 2011 Norway Journal #3 is finally done. It's a lot of work sorting our photies and researching to check my info is factual, and most of all, remembering this stuff, the details. I do keep a day-to-day key-word type diary while I'm away to make the remembering a tad easier.
It is however so time consuming I only have time to add one bit of blog stuff. I'll do more blog stuff tomorrow, check back later.
On the iPod recently...the 8hrs 45mins of the Rob Brydon autobiography Small Man In A Book. How he manages to be straight, (married twice, with children), while saying so much stuff that sounds so gay I just can't fathom. I enjoyed the greater half of this, the bigger first half...nearer the end it gets a bit, then I did this, then I did that. As an adult he concentrates on his professional working life and says very little about his private life, called private for a reason I spose. And it comes to an abrupt halt just as he becomes successful. Mr Brydon's got a lovely comforting voice and is great with the impersonations so it's an enjoyable listen.
I noted with interest that Rob says Jimmy Savile told him it's easy to get to the top, the difficult bit is staying there. The very same thing Jimmy Tarbuck told Jonathan Ross as reported in Wossy's book Why Do I Say These Things. Back in the day this was popular advice from men called Jimmy.
13/11/11Smokin' Joe RIP, an eBay first, I detect a detector, The Bro finds a needle in a haystack, from obesity to anorexia, Burlesque and Kill The Irishman
I've been away, so this blog post is a catch-up round-up of some of what's been happening in Marilyn's World in the last fortnight. I've been in Norway again, this time it was Stavanger, Tananger AND new-to-me the more northern Trondheim. I had a great time in Trondheim because it was a new city to explore, soon as I can get it done I'll put up a journal of my latest trip and the accompanying photies. I'm still recuperating after the surgery, taking it easy away from the pressures of life, gentle exercise (ie walking), and being waited on hand and foot and wined and dined by The Husband is just what the GP ordered. While I was away The Mum was over laundering the bedding and cleani
ng
windows and The Boy, YES, The Boy hoovered the house top to bottom.
I'm so fortunate having caring folks loving me.
Back to the cruel reality of death.
67 is way too early isn't it.
DAMN YOU CANCER!
RIP Joe Frazier.
I had to use the discount code from The Daily Record to buy my Blasted Heath Tin because there was an eBay first for me. I failed to win the auction for the one and only signed by all five authors Blasted Heath tin, damn and blast. If you're not the guy who did win it then quickly get over there and enter RECORD at the checkout for a £3 discount on an unsigned one.
As I blogged on the first of the November (see below) Blasted Heath is a new Scottish ePublishing company, and I believe in them, due to their association with my beloved favourite author of all time Mr Douglas Lindsay, he of Barney Thomson barbershop death junkie fame, I'm hoping they succeed in a big time type way.
I'm usually in like a shark at the end of an eBay auction, swiping it from under the nose of the last smug 'you are the highest bidder' at the last second, but given that I was in Norway and using my Asus Eee (a bit rickity slow, can't handle too much shit at the one time) I spoke to The Husband who put the item on his Bid Burglar. He entered £116.28, and we sat back to watch. It was sitting at £50, in the last split second of the auction...£118.28 won the day, and it wasn't us. Some other Bid Burglar won it with a higher Bid Burglar bid. Fair dos. I was actually looking forward to giving to charity, the money was going half to Cancer Research and half to LiveStrong. I reckoned I was happy to give a hundred to anti-cancer charity...FECK YOU CANCER!
Also, I do like a bit of charity-giving when I get something nice in return. AND it was to be my third item with a my favourite-author-of-all-time name-tag-scribble, should've been my third and way most expensive Mr Lindsay autograph. Alas alack, just wasn't to be.
DAMN YOU CANCER!
RIP Joe Frazier.
I had to use the discount code from The Daily Record to buy my Blasted Heath Tin because there was an eBay first for me. I failed to win the auction for the one and only signed by all five authors Blasted Heath tin, damn and blast. If you're not the guy who did win it then quickly get over there and enter RECORD at the checkout for a £3 discount on an unsigned one.
As I blogged on the first of the November (see below) Blasted Heath is a new Scottish ePublishing company, and I believe in them, due to their association with my beloved favourite author of all time Mr Douglas Lindsay, he of Barney Thomson barbershop death junkie fame, I'm hoping they succeed in a big time type way.
I'm usually in like a shark at the end of an eBay auction, swiping it from under the nose of the last smug 'you are the highest bidder' at the last second, but given that I was in Norway and using my Asus Eee (a bit rickity slow, can't handle too much shit at the one time) I spoke to The Husband who put the item on his Bid Burglar. He entered £116.28, and we sat back to watch. It was sitting at £50, in the last split second of the auction...£118.28 won the day, and it wasn't us. Some other Bid Burglar won it with a higher Bid Burglar bid. Fair dos. I was actually looking forward to giving to charity, the money was going half to Cancer Research and half to LiveStrong. I reckoned I was happy to give a hundred to anti-cancer charity...FECK YOU CANCER!
Also, I do like a bit of charity-giving when I get something nice in return. AND it was to be my third item with a my favourite-author-of-all-time name-tag-scribble, should've been my third and way most expensive Mr Lindsay autograph. Alas alack, just wasn't to be.
I searched up and down and all around Starry Towers for my metal detector. The Dad was even in both attics, no sign. So on the second day of the search The Boy's back from his Dad's the night before, he shuffles in, in his pants, scratching his bed-head hair and rubbing sleep from his eyes. I only asked him out of desperation, did he remember it? Remember it, he'd taken it to his Dad's place, a long time ago.
All's well that end's well, and it was a very happy ending to the metal detector tale. The Boy got it back to me, the batteries, with a use-by-date of October 2009, still working. And I passed it along to The Brother who was planning on finding a needle in a haystack with the help of The Mum, always up for a challenge is The Mum. His 'needle' was his bullet camera and the 'haystack' was both sides of the entire 1.3 miles of Knockhill racetrack. I didn't think he stood any realistic chance of finding it, even with the help of The Starry Towers metal detector.
But he did, the Camsports HDS-720p was a foot off the side of the track...in his own words "just where I started braking for the hairpin. We were prepared to have the whole day looking but ten minutes later we were heading back to the car...took it home and plugged it into the laptop and downloaded some good footage...I must have been doing between 80-90mph when it parted company with the bike and hit the track, then it's lay for three weeks with the Scottish weather hammering it. " That's a damn good camera.
I'm delighted and absolutely astounded, I love that he found it, a whole packet of Jammy Dodgers is what he wins. Great big heaps of positivity, a massive dose of pure luck and a steely hard core of Scottish tightness, fabulous.
I was reading an article about the ex-UK's Fattest Teenager and came across a LOL moment. Spotted this (chicken) nugget of funny fact information...a much quoted spokesman for the National Obesity Forum is Tam Fry. His name suggests to me he'd be a mega-sized Glaswegian tucking into pies, chips and deep-fried Mars Bars, supporting fatties in their right to eat all the most unhealthy food options and campaigning against a Fat Tax. But it's not that type of forum, it's a registered charity and seems to be on a government/NHS level, fighting against fat. Well, they say they're tackling the diseases caused by obesity, but it's the same thing.
Was in this article in Closer magazine that I read of the Jones family and Tam said Mrs Jones was failing as a mother and hiding behind the excuse of a possible genetic predisposition because her son Aran is fat. Tam's right of course. Aran learned his unhealthy lifestyle from her, though Tam should've included both parents there, the Dad is also fat, though isn't included in the article.
The Jones family member I feel sorry for is the daughter Malissa, they made up their own spelling of the name Melissa for a start, in a kind of spell it like you say it type way. Malissa at age 16 and 34st, was Britain's Fattest Teenager and was given £10,000 of bypass surgery on the NHS. It worked, she now weighs just 8st, unfortunately 2st of that is saggy skin and Malissa is now anorexic, terribly disfigured and depressed. A horrendous result.
The Husband and I watched Burlesque while we were in a Norway hotel, I took the DVD with me because I know The Husband likes Cher and a bit of high kicking les Folies Bergère type corseting. The best that can be said about Burlesque is about the singing and dancing, it is worth watching for the Christina Agurelalalala performances, not her acting, definitely not the acting, not hers and not noone elses, pheeeew the acting was bad. Ms Cher is like 101 years old and lit kindly, but still, her face is so strange, I know it's unkind but I was amazed at her surgery mask.
The Husband and I watched Kill The Irishman back home in Starry Towers. My Mr Walken as a loan-shark who (spoiler alert!) gets blown away by a car-bomb. Damn them Irish mobsters in 1970s Cleveland. For the first half of the movie I found it all a bit poor, but round about the bit where the Mafia guy frenziedly stabs the young boy in the car boot it all goes a bit more seriously Goodfellas quality. Couple of points that stayed with me, when did Val Kilmer get so fat? And Vinnie Jones was rather good.
01/11/11Blasted Heath and Amy Amy Amy new album
There's
a new ePublisher, launched today, and it's Scottish.Blasted Heath, founded by Allan Guthrie and Kyle MacRae, is Scotland's first digital-only publisher. I became aware of them thanks to my favourite author Douglas Lindsay. He's involved and some of his books are highlights of the launch. They are giving away free ebooks, in all the file types, compatible with all the gadgets, I'll be getting mine for the Kindle. The website also kindly explains all about the different file types and guides novices through the world of ebooks. This info is on the Blasted Blog tab. I learned how to get my free kindle email address sorted so I can send docs to my Kindle without being charged by Amazon. I'd previously knew it was possible, just couldn't fathom out how to do it and Amazon don't make it obvious, the info is there, they just don't put it in an easy to find place.
Today Blasted Heath started with the free novella End Of Days by Mr Lindsay, sign up to their free newsletter here, and they'll email you the code and instructions on how to get that.
Then tomorrow and the following four days there's more ebooks available free for 24hrs, see here for the details.
The individual novels are available in a USB stick/tin presentation pack too.
I'm feeling really enthusiastic about these guys and their business and sincerely hope they succeed. They're also offering the first five launch novels in a special Blasted Boxset, a branded USB stick in a cute little branded tin which includes a colour brochure with author and book information. If you wish to purchase said branded stick, tin and booklet, there's a discount code to get you £3 off. Enter RECORD at the checkout.
I'm holding off using the code because I'm bidding on the charity auction on ebay in the hope I get the one and only signed by all five authors branded stick, tin and booklet. I do a lot for charity when charity does a lot for me. I lurve giving when I get, I know this may sound a tad repulsive to many, but but but, that's the way I roll, like it or lump it. Is it my fault? This is a mix of nature and nurture and I'm Scottish, end off.
The other big news for my entertainment world is the announcement that there will be another Amy Winehouse album, of material I've never heard before, set to be released in December.
I read the NME article by Dan Martin here.
The material, 12 tracks, spans a long period, from a 2002 demo of ‘The Girl From Ipanema’ through to her Tony Bennett duet, ‘Body And Soul’, from March this year.
I'll be buying because I can't stand thinking I'll never hear Amy stuff I don't already know. I want to hear everything she ever did.
Miss you Amy.
31/10/11Halloween, Z4 folks, the Sunny D path and Paranormal Activity 2
Happy Halloween and all that bullshit. Last year The Husband entered into the traditional swing of things and filled a big basket with a mix of sweets and a big black rubber spider on the side, put a light-up pumpkin in the window and was prepared with coinage, but no guisers arrived. So this year on my own here, with no welcome-pumpkin in the window I was expecting a quiet night of glittering up my nails, soap operas and a spooky movie. I was disturbed by a loud door chapping.
For fully 30 seconds I deliberated on what to do, Even though I should've half-expected this, I didn't. I was near on finally decided to ignore them, but a spark of Z4-in-the-drive-worry suddenly struck me. As I switched on the hall light and approached the front door I heard them...'who said she wouldn't answer' one of them said, excited babbling, I unlocked and opened the door. Three boys in costumes with their faces on show, one boy in a werewolf mask, and a girl who had made no effort to dress for the occasion staying in the background, she was in a pink hoody.
The little beggers are just lucky my nail job was dry and not damaged with the ripping open of a Mars Bar 5-pack. They told jokes mostly, and when I asked if no-one was going to sing, one of them did. I didn't push for a dance. I gave these five guiser kids Mars Bars to make sure they didn't egg the Z4. I engaged them in conversation, they were surprisingly friendly and open with their information. I asked if they know The Boy, my 18yr son, they did, one identified himself as the younger brother of one of The Boy's friends, another gave his name willingly even though he had no older sibling. I told them The Boy was going to be peed off I gave away his Mars Bars. They told me tales of how they got freaked by some man who had stared at them for an eternity then eventually gave one of them a £1. Make them view you as a real human and not an anonymous victim. That's the correct psychological approach. And its wise to threaten with an 18yr old son if you've got one. They know he will hunt them down and kill them if they do any damage, so that and the Mars Bars, and all is well at Starry Towers. Cheap night really and I actually enjoyed the encounter.
Nine cars set off, seven arrived at The Bridges. One missing in action was explained, apparently the new convertible got stopped for speeding and another went missing en route, no-one knew why. This wasn't a pleasurable day out.
When we set off on the drive they all had their soft tops down apart from the one coupé who doesn't have that option, and us, with our hard top on because it's winter. Some of them quickly pulled over and put their soft tops up, but four, I kid you not, four of them did the entire journey roofless. It's Scotland, it's winter, it rained...hardy people. Problem was, the way I saw it, I found myself gripping the seat with two hands, when I wasn't holding onto the seat for dear life, I found my hands grasping at bits of my clothing. I was never relaxed. But on the way back up after Moffat, The Husband let them go and I could relax.
On a convoy type excursion you expect to stay together, all the better for turning heads and impressing the members of the public, or so I thought. But some of these people treated this like a race and disappeared quickly. What's the point? We drove through narrow bendy-twisty country roads with bumps and holes in, roads we'd never normally take the Zed, we'd go Range Rover for this terrain.
The
Husband does this kind of thing on a motorbike on racetracks. If
you're in a sports car, then that's what race tracks and Germany is for.
I wasn't impressed. The roads of Scotland are shared with walkers,
horse-riders, cyclists...oncoming traffic. The majority of these
Z4 people were just plain stupid, putting other's lives in danger as
well as their own.By the time we got to South Queensferry, I was sickened at their antics but very happy to see The Rail Bridge with no white scaffolding men-at-work stuff on. Best view of the day, though earlier in the day we'd seen The Devil's Beef Tub with clouds in and it looked strikingly lovely, but it was gone in a flash as we had to keep up with the 'boy racers'.
Another
of my daily walks around Sunny D and I traipsed along the new path, and
when I say 'new', it's obviously been there a good long while, it's just
new to me.The 'No Loitering' sign at the half way point on the path indicates there's been massive amounts of loitering on that path.
Seeking a Halloween spooky vibe I watched Paranormal Activity 2 tonight. Takes a bit of figuring out, but it's a prequel to the first movie. That dog was a disappointment, rubbish at sensing the paranormal presence and not even very good at noticing normal human activity, it seemed to sleep through a lot. If you've got a German Shepherd you expect to be better protected, or at the very least, better warned.
27/10/11walking, bus trip, Emmerdale lesbian, Z4 CDs, Amy loved her Vodka, FB interactive stalker movie starring you, shadow on the sky and You Kill Me
Confession Time...after my total abdominal hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy, 17 weeks ago, I followed medical advice. Not my usual behaviour, but I had The Mum and The Husband making sure I did, so I was outnumbered. They said don't hoover till 12 weeks post-op so I didn't, they said don't lift, so I'm not lifting, they said walk, start with short strolls out of your hospital bed, build up to 20 minutes and do it every day. When I got home I walked at least 20 mins every day, slowly to start with, building up to a brisk pace. I did that for weeks and weeks, but I'm confessing I eventually got bored with it, it fell away...then stopped. Exercise scares me.
But, reluctantly, I've seen the errors of my ways and started again and I'm back on track. The weather's been nice this week, so probably a major factor in getting me back out the door. Yesterday was a beautiful day, and saw me out on a brisk 25 minute walk. I found a path in Sunny D I didn't even know existed before. I walked half way down the path to check out where it was going, tomorrow I'm going to walk the full length of the path to clarify it emerges where I think it must, there will be photographic evidence.
Today I did my walking at The Centre and MacArthur Glen. Met up with my old friend C, she's an old friend first and a work colleague second. We went round some shops and stopped off for Diet Cokes, caught up and had a giggle. She was well ramping up the attention to personal grooming with one inch long glitter fake acrylic nails and a very freshly applied (like 10 minutes ago) henna tattoo on her right hand. Awkward moment when we passed two of the Work Reunion guys off The Facebook. The guy who did a Jezza Kyle style relationship issue out in the public forum of a social networking site, ie The Facebook, and I commented on his post that it was all going Jezza Kyle, then it all got deleted. Yeah, him, and his BFF who is another of The Facebook reunion guys. Yeah them, C and I passed them while in MacArthur Glen. Was all hi, hi, but we kept walking, awkward.
To get to The Centre I travelled on a bus, unusual for me. I accompanied The Boy on his way to work, we shared the back seat in the bus. He wasn't keen I have to tell you. But it grew on him, he even sent me a text later asking if I got there OK as his stop was before mine.
It's all changed on the buses, the number of the bus and the route it takes...exciting (hear the sarcasm in my voice).
While we were stood waiting at the bus stop an old Sunny D gent stopped to chat. This is the man who, 20 years ago, used to trim my Poodles, I was also aware of his wife as she worked in the Sunny D shop for a while. I was sad to to hear his wife died two years ago, but he was in chipper mood and though I couldn't make out every word he said and had to do some of that pretending you've heard and trying to make like you're responding appropriately but not wanting to say 'what?' all the time, was still nice to catch up with him. He told me he thought I'd got a job on Emmerdale, the STV soap.
Really? Cheeky old bugger was telling me he thinks I resemble actress Kelli Hollis who has started on Emmerdale playing a born-again lesbian (previously married with kids) who looks like she's had a hard life.
I told this sweet old man I'd like to say he'd made my day, but he hadn't, that made him laugh. He said he'd stopped watching Emmerdale because of the introduction of the lesbians. I thinks it's heart-warmingly wonderful that old people can voice whatever non-PC opinions and still remain loveable.
In-car music in the old silver Z4 was via an iPod connection to my iPod and it's six BMW folders, the new red Z4 has a CD player for which I was tasked with making 6 CDs of my favourite tunes. I finally got round to the job this evening, got carried away and made 7. Takes sooooo long, took up several hours of my life, but it's done now so I'm feeling a satisfactory job-done tingle. That's us musically prepared for the upcoming Z4-forum Scottish Pre-Winter Meet. The good news is the meeting place is just round the corner from Starry Towers, the bad news is they're meeting at 0800 hrs. My goodness,
that's
early for a drive, even if there'll be about 10 Z4s...it better be fun.
The Husband is looking forward to the photo ops.Amy Winehouse died because she was marinating in pure Vodka, gallons of it, Smirnoff you bastard. This is legally termed 'misadventure'. Alcohol poisoning put her into a coma and ultimately respiratory arrest. Officially it was 416mg per decilitre of blood, not sure how much that is, but obviously a lot. She was such a skinny little person, and female, weight, body fat percentage and the male/female thing effect how the body can cope with alcohol. I'm still deeply sad at Amy's death.
The Boy sent me to Take This Lollipop...OMG! is an Interactive Live Action Facebook Connect experience, only uses the info you've put out there on The FB, and tailors it to scare you in a top quality movie trailer experience, starring you. Halloween's a coming, shit your pants if you're on The FB, check it out at TakeThisLollipop.com.
This is the stuff that makes life worthwhile, even at the advanced age that has you increasingly upset at deaths and scared by just looking in a mirror. On Wednesday this week Mount Rainier in Seattle in the USA...the conditions were just right, the sun rose further to the south as the winter solstice approaches and the 14,000 feet (4300 meters) of mountain was in the exact position to block the first rays of morning sun before they hit the sky they threw a shadow onto the cloud cover. Beautiful and life-affirming.
I've started my Bucket-List, it does include a couple of natures wonders.
I watched You Kill Me starring Ben Kingsley and Luke Wilson, I should've been more impressed I think. I just don't like watching movies on my own.
25/10/11another hyper-annoying TV ad
This
TV commercial is soooo annoying, but also kinda creepy in an
abattoir slaughter-house type way.Advertising Colman's new Instant Beef Gravy Paste in a tube, there's a shiny dancing gravy bull to the tune of I Like The Way You Moo, Colman's adapted version of the Bodyrockers song I Like The Way You Move. Yeeuck.
The mother makes the gravy, has a little taste off her dipped finger, she smiles contentedly, I'd go so far to say, she looks well smug. Then it gets horrid, the glistening high-shine bull jumps up out of the gravy boat and dances around looking far too jolly about his part in this dinner. A bit of uh-hu-hu-uh type dance moves and he back flips into the gravy boat and next thing the gravy's being poured over a meat and two veg dinner plate.
The happy Mum and Dad plus 2 kids (one of each sex of course), then get tucked in...smugly.
Way to make me go veggie again.
24/10/11Steps reformed, The Facebook, Nice Scottish News & Nasty Scottish News
Bloody
Steps, as if one time wasn't enough, they're retracing their stupid
steps. I came in and Loose Women was on the telly, interviewing
two members of reformed Steps. They were saying there won't
be a problem for the fans with the dance moves because everybody
remembers them from the last time...really? I don't. One of
the Steps women made reference to their songs, she called them 'the old
classics', REALLY? I think I may have annoyed an old work colleague, a man I haven't seen for years, but they're organising a reunion (just like Steps), so a load of them are now in contact on The Facebook and I've been invited.
This one guy wrote on The Facebook re his relationship. Yesterday he put up something apologising publicly for not being attentive enough, taking her for granted blah blah blah. Today he put up saying he is in a relationship...he hopes, with question marks, he was looking very wimpy pathetic. I responded to his post, how it was all getting a bit Jezza Kyle round here with public displays of relationship issues and said I'd pull my chair up and get the popcorn. He only went and deleted my post. What? What did I say?
As an update to this story, he deleted the entire post later on, I think he either realised for himself or the woman involved, told him what a plonker he was being. I like to think my wise words helped.
I was on a roll on The Facebook today. A female friend had posted several sad news stories throughout the day, then this evening she said...'
Nice Scottish News : Maurice Hurrell of Tullibody in Clackmannanshire has been awarded the fifth annual Scottish Conkers Championship title in Peebles...nice.
Nasty Scottish News : 28 year old Stuart Walker was found dead on an industrial estate in Cumnock, Ayrshire at the weekend, badly beaten, charred and partially dressed. The Daily Record broke the news online with a headline proclaiming it was the 'gay-slaying' of a 'lamppost murder victim', which at the time was just a tad presumptuous, to say the least. The Daily Record had run with Mr Walker's homosexualty and assumed this was a gay-bashing hate crime. We also know now he wasn't tied to a lamppost. Of course it's shocking whatever the motive, but surely they shouldn't assume he died because his killer/killers hate gays. It could be that he was murdered by a same-sex homosexual psychopath. Could well be gay-on-gay murder, because it is actually true that most murder victims die at the hands of their nearest and dearest...FACT. We don't know at this stage. But the Daily Record's sensationalising headline and story led to thousands upon thousands of Twitters tweeting saying how bad it is to be murdered because of your gaydom.
This young man died brutally, The Daily Record and The Twitter reduced him to his sexuality, in 140 characters or less. That's what annoyed me. Many many heterosexual women are murdered by heterosexual males...a lot of them cases is because they are in a heterosexual relationship with the heterosexual killer or are the victim of a heterosexual p
sychopath
serial killer type. The Twitters don't start proclaiming them
cases are a 'straight-slaying', but they go ape-shit at the mere sniff
of a gay thing.#RIPSTUARTWALKER trended all day, by evening it was second only to #YoungApprentice. Knocked off the top spot by the first episode of a new series of a TV show. Late night, it's gone. Twitter I hate you so much.
Updated TV STV news this evening reported that the gay-slaying aspect is wrong, police are apparently treating this as a domestic murder. I hate it when everyone jumps on the bandwagon without stopping to think.
I spent my day in The Starry Towers Estate, pottering around tending to the flowers, I'm surprised at how flowery a lot of them still are. It's nearly November.
23/10/11Marco, The F Factor, still not enthusiastic, Unknown and Machete
Marco Simoncelli (20/01/87 - 23/10/11) RIP.
The gorgeous boy with the amazing hair. I don't watch much motorbike racing, but I'm aware of a lot of it because The Husband takes his bikes out on race tracks on a regular basis. And in more recent times The Brother does too. It's a dangerous game but I've always been reassured by The Husband that a race track is the safest place to ride a motorbike, and it is, I understand all the reasons why. And I'm well happy with The Husbands' recent decision to retire from road biking.
Marco always stood out for me when I watched any of his racing, his crazy beautiful hair, I always wondered how he got a helmet on his head. This evening I read on the guardian.co.uk website that he had to wear a helmet in a size too big to get his hair in.
Now I fear it could have contributed to his death as his helmet flew off in the fatal accident, but The Husband says the size shouldn't make a difference, it's more likely the helmet hadn't been properly strapped when he put it on.
He was such a beautiful boy, and his death brings home the risks all racers take, at all levels. I can't stop thinking about this tragic event, my thoughts are with his loved ones this evening.
I accidently caught the end of the X Factor results this evening, REALLY...it was accidental. Was to do with switching on the TV and SKY in the living room and moving between rooms before settling down for the evening. And I really mean I just caught 'the end', I came in at the bit where that untalented fat-faced boy with the 'hair-do', Frankie, he got told he was through to the next round and I swear he swore. Frankie turned the X Factor into the F Factor. Naughty, cos it was before 9pm with children watching and all. Not very bright. That boy's got a bad attitude, he comes across like he deserves this, like it's preordained he will be a star, with precious little effort, nil talent and absolutely no regard for others. And this is why Simon Cowell's TV contest shows are so bad for humanity.
Then I put in a special effort to catch Ricky Gervais on Curb Your Enthusiasm. I've never 'got' the whole world of Larry David, Seinfeld or Curb. It must be me, I just don't find any of it funny. But tonight was the Gervais episode, so I tried...it wasn't funny either.
Over the weekend The Husband and I watched the Liam Neeson movie Unknown. But not before a conversation with The Boy where I explained the Liam Neeson aspect of the HBO (Hollywood Babble-On podcast with Kevin Smith and Ralph Garman). Ralph Garman does a great David Bowie thing (I lurve it) and loads of other great impersonations, he's very funny. l had to explain to The Boy why every time I hear the name Liam Neeson I have to sing...oooh we can't help but wonder how big is Liam Neeson's cock. I can't help it, it's a catchy tune, if you want to hear it and discover just "how big is it?", it's on the Neesoncock website. Or you should download all the HBO podcasts here then go to the main SModcast page and see what else you fancy. I particularly like Tell 'Em Steve-Dave. The Boy really struggled with hearing me talk about this aspect of one of my favourite podcasts, but we were in the Range Rover on the way back from Tesco so I took advantage and made him squirm big-time. It's been a very long time since I out-did The Boy with shock factor.
So...Unknown. Was alright, but perhaps too many unrealistic turns and twists. Too much made of the intricate details, like the secret passwords had to be written in a code, I'm sure any agent worth their fee would be able to commit such stuff to memory. And just cos it's set in Berlin...really...do we have to have Stasi agents coming out of the woodwork? As if that isn't enough...world hunger is resolved and Neeson leaves Germany with a new wife.
With The Husband away back to work I watched Machete on my own, and very glad I am that I kept this bad decision to myself, it's rubbish, I couldn't even watch to the end.
20/10/11Gaddafi, The Mum and Duvet News
The
big news today is of course that Gaddafi is dead, really really
seriously definitely dead, I've seen some extremely graphic and, despite
his evilness, still very disturbing proof. Took Libya a while, but
they got him in the end. The uprising started in February this
year, he came to power 42 years ago and ruled like a true despot crazy
man.See, it seems like a good idea at the time, ruling like a true despot crazy man, but doesn't always pan out well in the long run, especially these days with the www and stuff. I've seen so much video footage, chilling, his people really really hated him. Should've perhaps just taken his own life rather than endure the mob violence. No mercy. Trying to hide like a rat in a drain pipe, apparently beaten then shot with a bullet to the head alongside one of his sons, gruesome stuff. But then, he did more gruesome stuff to many many others, including funding and having his sticky fingers in terrorist activity throughout the world. Karma, ugly karma, and a long time coming, but karma none the less.
Lets hope the people of Libya get it right next time with their choice of leader. They're good at celebratory gunfire, careless, deadly and wasteful firing of bullets into the sky, what bit of that seems like a good idea? But, historically, not so good at being ruled.
On The Twitter there was humour in 140 characters or less, these are my favourites :
19/10/11Dale Farm, Anti-Slavery Day and Chinese Toddler News
I watched a lot of the Dale Farm eviction action today...such a waste of taxpayers money, I was wishing police could've just knocked the scaffolding down and be done with it, but s'pose that wouldn't be PC...not PC and...probably contrary to Health & Safety.
This illegal site had been at the centre of a legal battle to evict them for more than 10 years. One wee clue about the 'culture' they're always on about..'travellers' not 'settlers', so travel! Funny how the 'culture' changes to suit. The police and bailiffs were up against gypsy settlers and their supporting activists, I'm guessing these professional protestor people spend their lives protesting one thing or another. Shouting about human rights, what about the human rights of the rest of us, the ones who are socially well-behaved, law-abiding and pay taxes. There's a load more of us than them, thankfully, or the country really would go tits up.
Check this one out, one minute she's got her coffee and stressing over smoke damage to her hair extensions, the next she's holding aloft a giant crucifix. Unsure where that came from...or why.
Then there's the OUR HOME tyre situation...THEY set that caravan on fire themselves, gypsies like a bit of drama.
#dalefarm didn't trend on The Twitter though, so I think that's a good sign.
I heard some commentator on the CNN live coverage liken this protest to the Emily Pankhurst votes for women social-disorder movement, WTF?
Has that man, who-ever he was, had a look at how the travelling community treat their young girls? Taking them out of school at an illegally young age to prepare for their lives of marriage, subjugation and caravan cleaning?
It's been a mixed year for travellers, or gypsies..when they're making money out of their 'culture' it's OK to call it a gypsy thang. See Channel 4's series Big Fat Gypsy Wedding for permission. I realise the wedding TV show was exaggerated and showed only a few. I'm guessing Paddy Doherty, who lives in a house and went on to star in and win Celeb Big Brother 2011 was a main benefactor. But there were some seriously worrying true aspects of the travelling community life shown with pride, see past the ugly dresses and fake tans of the young brides. Most of it was testosterone driven men, strutting their stuff and lording it over the females.
The loud-mouths on camera at Dale Farm were all female from what I saw, because the men usually stay secretive?...maybe because they've perhaps got criminal type activity to hide? Ironically, yesterday, the 18th October 2011 was Anti-Slavery Day in the UK.
Sign the petition to raise awareness and hopefully prevent the 2012 London Olympics being big business for the slavery trade.
This year alone, the traveller community have a shit-load they'd wish to hide. It's alleged a bunch of the gypsy Connors family from Greenacres caravan site in Leighton Buzzard have been engaging in human trafficking, slavery, forced labour, tarmac-ing drives and trimming hedges all over Scandinavia with young men who were removed (ie freed) from the site following a police raid on September 11th. Remanded in custody to reappear at Luton Crown Court on the 5th December...I count 7, Tommy Senior, Josie (the only woman charged), Johnny, James (Jimmy), Tommy Junior, Patrick and James (Big Jim).
The last time The Husband and I sailed home from the continent, was Denmark to Harwich, there were a couple gypsy vehicles on the same ferry. I know the vehicles were gypsy, one was a van towing a caravan, the other a pickup lorry with all the tarmac-ing equipment in the back. We'd first met them when we stopped off to view the "Man Meets The Sea" sculpture at Sædding Beach prior to getting on the boat. In the car park, they'd rolled out a green 'lawn' at the caravan door and the approx 10 yr old boy was strutting around and physically assaulting the much younger and smaller girl child.
Once the boat was out at sea the kids were helping themselves to food from the buffet, none of the ferry catering staff seemed to notice, the thieving was pretty blatant, so I don't know how they missed it. The adults were in the bar/lounge, obvious by their terrible fashion decisions...the oldest of the men, approx 45 yrs...wearing a suit-type waistcoat over a T-shirt...that's all I'm saying. The kids came in dropping off food. The oldest of the women could only be in her late 40s, tight jeans, red calf length stiletto boots, red hoodie, heavy make-up, sour-faced, kept her eyes cast downward. She and the younger approx 20 yr old girl, I passed them several times on the boat, they didn't make eye contact, even with me. This is an honest and accurate description I didn't include in my journal of that trip, because...I thought it might sound like I was being racist. It's all coming out now though...Dale Farm made me a bit annoyed. Then I watched a documentary this evening that made me even more annoyed.
I've been getting the hang of this SKY TV thing, most evenings recently while The Husband's away at work I'm to be found in the living room, fire roaring in the grate with the SKY TV. I'm setting a real fire to save on the gas bills as the weather is chilling down. There's not an awful lot on TV, even with all these channels. But, seems there's always an episode of Come Dine With Me on somewhere, so that's good.
Not so good...tonight I watched the Panorama programme, The Secret Lives Of Britain's Child Beggars on BBC1. John Sweeney investigating child abuse on Britain's streets, and gypsy begging gangs with luxury homes in Romania. If you didn't watch it, seek it out on the www at the BBC iPlayer, or read about it here. I knew this stuff was happening in Rome and other major continental cities, I didn't realise it was so bad here in the UK, but it is. Gypsies have a lot of bad karma going down, all their own doing.
More
child-unfriendly stuff, I was appalled at a news item from China.I watched the video yesterday of two year old toddler Wang Yue being horrifically run over by a van in a side street outside a hardware market in Foshan in southern China's Guangdong province. The van driver crushed her under the front wheel, stopped briefly, then drove off running the back wheel over her little damaged body. The security camera caught more than a dozen passersby walk, ride motorbikes or drive other vehicles round the little girl's severely damaged, bleeding and broken body without stopping to help. They clearly notice the badly injured child, as some motorists swerve to avoid her body and three people walk past.
As if it's not bad enough, then another truck runs over the child, with the front, then again, with the back wheel. Seven terrible traumatic minutes pass before a woman, sees her then does the humane thing, drags the child's body to the side of the street and alerts the mother so that she could take the child to the hospital. This evening I can't find definite news of her status. Shocking footage, once seen you can't unsee it, only click on this picture to be taken to the video if you can deal with it.
Then today there was the story of the three year old Chinese boy who fell down an abandoned well shaft, they rescued him, I'm surprised they bothered.
18/10/11Worcester, Daniel O'Double-Entendre and Mong-Wars got me a famous Twitter reply
The
Husband and I were in Worcester yesterday and set me a-wondering why its
pronounced Wooster? We were there to attend the funeral service of
an old friend of The Husband's. I say 'old' friend, as in
'long-time' friend, this man wasn't even 60 yrs old when he died from
cancer. A very sad time for his wife, and their three children,
all grown into fine adults but still young 'uns that just lost their
Dad, very sad.Worcester and surrounding area is made of bricks. There are some old religious buildings constructed from good old stone, but practically everything else is brick, some of the brick is kinda nice looking, lots of it very ugly. I say 'kinda nice' because much of it I couldn't decide. Terraced, semi-detached and detached two-story dwellings, many of them look unfinished. Houses right next door to each other, one can look OK, next door looks like a hovel because it's a bit less well maintained. But it's the bricks, I just don't like the bricks.
When first we arrived in Worcester we located the crematorium then drove to The Crown and Sandys in the nearby, very picturesque, village of Ombersley. There's a lovely feel of history and people caring about history in the place, indeed the bit I saw is at the centre of the Ombersley conservation project. In this bit it's all timber-framed black and white medieval, very quaint, very nice...from the outside, but inside, I'd be afraid a house here would fall down about my head. The Crown and Sandys (pronounced Sands) is an impressive former Coaching Inn with a fantastic history dating back to the 17th Century.
It
amazes me that some of the buildings are still standing. On the
outside The Crown and Sandys is very much part of this beautiful all
English nostalgia, inside it's all Eastern European immigrant workers
and crap cola on tap. Really crap cola on tap, I had to refuse one
of the glasses they squirted for me, it was see-through, the colour of
bog-water, tasting of the soda water, and another was borderline.
And the exposed bricks, all uneven, sloping off to the side, very dodgy.The Crown and Sandys was the post-funeral meeting place for the refreshments bit, but we went there before the service because The Husband wanted to meet up with another old friend who was attending the funeral service. I got to meet him, his ex-wife and a daughter. All lovely people.
Anyways, it was Sunny D to Worcester and back again in one day, up at 3am, left Starry Towers at 4am, got back home around 8.30pm. Of course The Husband lays claim to the hero-of-the-day crown because he had to stay awake and do all the driving, and I got to slept a lot in the car - but I was the one who got a jiggered neck from all that nodding-off and a load of people on the M6 got to see my wide gaping mouth with drool on my chin. You can't recline a Z4 seat very far at all.
I'm appreciating, though not exactly enjoying funeral attending. I say appreciating because it does make me think about an unavoidable aspect of life I know very little about. And does raise the concern of how many people will attend your own. The Husband made comment at this funeral, that he doesn't think this many would turn up to his, and this was a small, family, very private and therefore intimate event. The Husband could name a load of people he knows through working in the oil industry that knew this man but didn't appear for the funeral. The nature of the oil industry means many people he worked with would be in foreign countries and unable to attend because of this. I told The Husband we'd bury him in Norway, loads would jump at the opportunity of a couple hours off work in the offices of his oil company. I was kidding though, just thinking.
And thinking of my own, when it's my turn, maybe I should make a Death List - inform these people if I die. I know some people who wouldn't necessarily be aware if I died. I know I've been informed of some funerals after the event, and thought, awww, I'd have went if I'd known. The Husband really should make a Death List so I can inform the people who know him but that I don't know, he knows loads of people. I don't know why he's worrying about attendance figures, he has way more friends and colleagues than me.
This funeral had songs played too, I haven't thought what music I would want, and what The Husband would want. A brother of the deceased's wife took the stand to read a passage from Narnia, he was a wonderful narrator, annunciating at every turn, so impressive was he, I can only conclude, he's got to be an actor at some level or another. I even Googled his name and came up with stuff about an actor in the Worcester area, I think it's him.
On a much lighter note, I accidently caught a wee bit of Loose Women today on the telly, and it was really accidental, it involved the bit with Irish crooner Daniel O'Donnell. I think what caught my attention was the screaming of the women in the studio audience. His fans were in da house, big time. I don't understand, never ha
ve,
why women love Daniel O'Donnell. The one woman who was a DO'D fan
who was important to me, was my old Nana, my Mum's Mum, sadly gone.
I could a wee bit understand her love of him because in them days he
would kiss all his fans, if I recall correctly she got kissed a couple
of times at his concerts, but he doesn't do the same level of fan-return
as he used to, so why are they still turning up to scream?The funniest bit for me, apart from him wearing this pink jacket and looking gay-as...the Loose Women had been discussing duvet wars and what side of the bed you sleep on. Was Lisa Maxwell if I remember correctly, looking at some picture we didn't get to see of Mr O'Donnell on a bed, she said 'you're all over that bed Daniel, you're not on one side or the other'.
She might not have meant it as a double-entendre reference to his gaydom, but...it was, FACT.
On The Twitter two of my favourite funny men have been embroiled in a very public argument over the use of the word 'mong' by Ricky Gervias. Ricky has stated his view of the meaning of the word, Richard Herring has been offended, Twitter Wars have ensued. It got so bad it was distressing me that two of my favourite funny men would stoop low to argue on The Twitter. I went to The Twitter in the first place to stay informed on my favourite comedy and podcast stuff. I've been a bit surprised at these two publicly giving it playground slaps at each other over such an inconsequential matter. Richard Herring took great pleasure at offending the very oldest of the generations with his Hitler moustache, Ricky is using the word 'mong' in the belief that the word has changed meaning and no longer offends the older generations .
They've both done stuff that could offend in my opinion, but neither offended me personally, I see the humour, I understand. But it's all gone crazy on The Twitter. The up-side is my tweets finally got me a tweet from Richard Herring. I'll keep on trying for a Gervais tweet.
15/10/11Smash and Knockhill
The Husband worked all week, then home again for
the weekend. He brought with him a bag of the original normal
sized Smash for me.
Smash being the famous very tasty salty-sweet Norwegian snack/sweetie mash-up,
consisting of salted corn bugle shapes covered by Nidar's milk
chocolate mmmm, scuse me a mo, munch munch, mmm-mmm-mmm, crunch, mmm-mmm,
right that's them all gone. On reflection, the mini version is
slightly better.Licks fingers, wipes lips, moving on...we had a family get together up at Knockhill today. The Parents and I followed The Husband and The Brother up the M9 to Scotland's national Motorsport centre. We left a couple hours after them cos they chose to go at some unreasonably early hour of the morning. When we got there they were already zooming round the track at great speed enjoying a trackday.
A shout out to our good friend Linds who had joined them for thrills and happily, no spills.
Knockhill has good facilities. From hygienic toilets to decent eateries at The Champions’ Clubhouse and Kinnairds Restaurant. We spent our snack and drinks time in Kinnairds, with The Dad getting treated at my insistence and him not even making the slightest attempt at pretending I shouldn't, chips followed by cake for The Dad then, fun, I adore The Dad. And The Mum...The Parents and I had a lovely time chatting, watching the guys on their bikes and taking photies, the guys seemed to really enjoy going round and round very fast, each to their own an' all.
13/10/11Psychic News and Heart and Hand shoutout
According to the article Ms Sally stated on her FaceBook page that her management team intend "to commence libel action in relation to press allegations that she is a cheat". Mr Singh feels her pain and is tirelessly "working with the Merseyside Skeptics Society and Professor Chris French at the Anomalistic Psychology Research Unit, Goldsmiths, University of London, to construct a suitable test that would offer a chance to demonstrate whether or not she has psychic powers." How very generous and nice of them, she should jump at the chance...but she won't.
I'm rather pleased to report I got a shout out on The Heart And Hand Podcast. There I was, going about my business this afternoon, plugged into my iPod enjoying their latest podcast. It's #51 (if I've been counting correctly), titled Twitchy The Tramp In His Ditch. Near the end David Edgar and Scott
12/10/11BBF Wine & Whine, drinking on the job, Jarvis Cocker News and Food Label News
The Best Friend was over last night for another of our highly enjoyable Wine & Whine nights. Was one of the least whiniest nights we've ever had, maybe because we only had to do the BBF's whining. I've been off work for a couple of months due to The Op, so wasn't feeling the need to off-load much.
The Best Friend brought me a box of chocs, in return I offered her the coffee sweets out of my Thorntons box (the only ones left), she declined. Yeah I know, poor exchange. Today when The Dad dropped in to check if I needed any heavy lifting done, I tried again, he too said he wouldn't, I said he should take them to The Mum, no joy...oh well, I put them in the bin.
The Best Friend and I did our Wine and Whine outdoors, sitting at the patio table, wrapped snugly in Slankets. I wore the black, she went all Greta Garbo in the leopard print. It's October in Scotland an' all, Slankets are fab.
On the subject of boozing, Dr Sarah Wollaston MP, has raised her concern that many of her fellow MPs drink on the job. She's correct to do so I reckon, it's terrible and ridiculous. When I was a student nurse, back in the '80s, I heard tell of many nurses-drinking-on-shift stories. Tales of covering up and older female nursing assistants putting male charge nurses to a bed to sleep it off. That was bad, but that was the old days.
During the tale-end of the old days when I was a student nurse I met up
with an old school pal and went for a pub lunch. She was a dental
assistant in the health centre I was based at while on a placement with
a Community Psychiatric Nurse. I partook of a cheeky little Pernod & Diet Coke on our lunch date, all was well. Later that afternoon, back on duty I had to administer a depot injection to a patient in their own home. I swear, it was extremely distressing for me, the patient, the CPN, no-one else seemed to bat an eyelid. Me, I was freaking, I never drank on duty again.
In 2011 nurses can be sacked for even smelling of booze from the night before, so forget getting bladdered on their dinner break. Should be the same for MPs. If I can't nurse with a drink in me, and I know I can't, they can't effectively run the country drunk, they just don't know it. They really are a bunch of hypocrites, yet again it's one rule for the plebs another for the rulers.
Jarvis Cocker News : I've been enjoying Jarvis Cocker in the Eurostar TV adverts, there's my man on the telly. AND there's more Jarvis Cocker News, he's taken up a book editing post at Faber and Faber. I'm quite excited, who knows what this could lead to. Meanwhile his own first book, Mother, Brother, Lover: Selected Lyrics, is to be published next week by Faber and Faber. I've pre-ordered my hardback copy already, at Amazon for only £7.49
I just became aware that the UK guidelines on food and drink packaging dates are changing in the hope that it'll reduce the massive amount of perfectly good food stuffs thrown out. It's all to do with the immensely bewildering best-befores, display-untils, sell-bys, consume-bys, chuck-it-out-bys and give-it-to-a-passing-bin-raker-bys. Apparently from now on all food and drink must be labelled with one date only – either a ‘best before’ or a ‘use by’. That isn't extreme enough for my liking, one date only should mean one...a use-by. I have no sense of smell, so I think I have to rely on the packaging dates more than most. I'm glad they're improving the system, but now they're admitting the old system is so wrong and misleading and that loads of foods previously labelled as untouchable can now be considered to be edible, I'm still confused.
What we need is a this-will-either-make-you-sick-or-kill-you date. That's clear and not confusing at all. This new system will still leave me and my anosmia in a 'best before’ or a ‘use by ' dilemma.
The new thingy will mean that most foods – such as tinned and dry goods, jams, pickles and snacks – will carry a ‘best before’ date to indicate when they will no longer be at their best but are still safe to eat.
‘Use by’ labels will go only on food which is unsafe to eat after a certain date, such as soft cheese, meat, fish, eggs and ready meals. I say they should stick a 'use-by' on everything. Cos maybe even a 20 year old tin of beans might make me a bit nauseous.
Today I tested the current food-date label system for myself and ate deli chicken slices that were labelled as best before 07/10/11. They'd got kinda lost in the Starry Towers fridge, easy done. So five days after I'd normally have thrown them out...I couldn't tell any difference taste-wise, and I'm not ill yet. If I'm not in bed with food-poisoning diarrhoea and vomiting tomorrow I'll eat the other pack, same deli chicken slices, but it'll be 6 days too late. Interesting.
10/10/11Las Vegas Wedding with Elvis Gallery sorted, shoplifting, books, Z4 lid painted, Woodpecker, Beefeater, Macca wedding part 3, Dementia News, cyber-suicide note, Animal Kingdom and The Fighter
Last couple of days I've been sorting out The Las Vegas Wedding Gallery here at MarilynsWorld, I'm not sure why or when or what happened, but the page had went a lot askew. Was all over the place...sorted now though, revamped, bigger and even better.
O.M.G! O.M.G! I shoplifted a carton of milk from the Sunny D village shop. I'd went into the Sunny D village shop in all innocence, with no intention to be thieving. What happened was, I got talking to The Sunny D Shop Silver-Haired Fox AKA the Sunny D Post Office Guy. During a short lull in the conversation, while he was concentrating on the job in hand, sorting out my package, I thought I'd just get the milk, so I did. Took it out the fridge then went back to talking more with The Silver-Haired Fox. After our conversation I just waved goodbye, strode nonchalantly past the lady at the shop counter bidding her a pleasant day and walked right on out with the milk.
Walking along Main Street it suddenly dawned on me what was in my hand. STOLLEN MILK! There could be no-one more surprised than me. I swear, I have never ever, to my knowledge, shoplifted unintentionally. I nearly turned around and went right back, but the virtual grocery shopping had arrived, the Tesco lorry guy was unpacking out front of Starry Towers, I was torn, but obviously the Tesco thing took priority.
Took approximately 15 minutes, after I'd told the Tesco guy what I'd just done (my character witness if needed), for me to put the groceries away in the fridge and freezer. Then I walked back in the shop, the lady on the counter just said "96p". She'd seen me shoplift, The PO Guy joked how he was going to run after me, but the shop lady said she knew I'd come back. I'm getting worse.
The stuff the PO Guy and I were talking about that so distracted me was books. He'd asked me what I was doing that fine day, I told him I was thinking maybe the thrill of a bit of daylight robbery a la The Smiths was on my mind.
No I didn't, truth was I was sorting out old books to go to the charidee. YES, I do my bit for charidee, I just don't talk about it.
The Starry Towers book shelves are straining with too many books and we've got Kindles. The PO guy told me he takes books to the nursing home where his wife works. There's five or six male residents there who read ferociously and can't be kept in books. I told him I'd give him a dozen or so, but on reflection, I decided to give the lot.
I bagged them, a dozen or so carrier bags full, and he took them all away. I felt good, less clutter AND an act of selfless charidee.
Or maybe The Silver-Haired Fox does regular car-boot sales and took away twenty quids worth of free merchandise. We'll never know for sure, but I like to think not everyone is as skeptically devious as I am.
The Husband was home for the weekend, first thing was going to get the roof for the Z4. The hard top has had a spray job, it's now Imola Red to match the car. The Husband was talking to a Sunny D man who told him there'd been discussions in the village, had we painted the silver Z4 or got a new car? It's looking so Bat Mobile, I love it, so I got the G10 out. I climbed a ladder for the first picture.
The reason The Husband struck up a conversation with this Sunny D man was to talk about getting that window job done. There's going to be some Starry Towers News soon.
While
I had the camera out for the Zed I got some pics of The Starry Towers
Great Spotted Woodpecker, looking well satisfied at the job he's done on
the Starry Towers Lilac Tree.We dined out Saturday evening, I was feeling shitty due to allergy type symptoms, nasal blockage, itchy sore eyes, tickly throat, skin reactions and nodded off all afternoon on the sofa. (I've went back on the anti-histamines and feel normal again). So dinner was at the local Deer Park Beefeater. I started with my fav Camembert, The Husband had the Garlic And Herb Breaded Mushrooms. The starters are massive, almost full already, we set about the mains. The Husband had the 9oz Ultimate Beef Burger with Jalapeños and Cajun spiced onions & peppers, for me was the Chicken Burger with the Flat Mushroom and Black & Blue Sauce topping. The burgers come with Bottomless Chips, in either plain or spiced. We both had the plain, and didn't need to ask for seconds, but apparently if you need more, they will keep bringing Bottomless Chips if you wish. The Husband ordered sides, Cheesey Garlic Bread and Battered Onion Rings.
After that we waited a while, then had Caramel Apple Crumble Pie with ice cream. Well done us. The waitress was a very friendly lady called Andrea.
Macca and me have something in common, we're both rubbish singers, no really...three marriages each. Both of us happy that our firsts were good decisions at that time in our lives, moving on to embarrassing and short lived seconds, though mine cost me only £62 to get rid, he had to splash much more cash, and moving forward to our happy, much more sensible thirds. Cogratuwelldone Macca.
Disturbing Alzheimer's Dementia News from the University of Texas Medical School at Houston, it might be contagious. I've spent the last 28 years cuddling up to Dementia sufferers, many with the Alzheimer's type. Their research has shown that when they injected human Alzheimer's brain tissue into the brains of mice, the mouses exhibited changes characteristic of the disease - suggesting that some cases of Alzheimer's may spread from person to person. They're not saying (at this stage) that a hug can do it, it's all to do with consumption of contaminated food, blood transfusion, tissue transplant and surgery (I just had some of that). Hope further research doesn't go on to prove this as fact.
A couple of weeks ago ex Wheezer bassist Mikey Welsh said on The Twitter that he'd dreamt of his own death, he tweeted that it would be in a Chigago hotel that weekend, then he tweeted he'd made a mistake, it would be the following weekend. I'm thinking, in between tweets he'd changed his travel plans. Now that's a very modern method of suicide note.
The Husband and I watched the 2010 Australian movie Animal Kingdom, about a Melbourne criminal family. I liked it, I like Guy Pearce who played Sgt Nathan Leckiea. Also starring an old Kylie lookalikee with a bad habit of kissing her boys on the lips. On Googling it was 1947-born Jacki Weaver.
We also watched The Fighter, boxing, drugs, hard-times and crazy family, especially that mother and those special needs sisters! Very good.
05/10/11Gardening News, results, the latest waste of my tax payers money, another hyper-annoying TV ad, Steve Jobs, The Resident and Black Dynamite
My big 2011 bulbs order arrived today. No..not the entire UK supply of 60 watts still available online, but flowery garden plant type bulbs. I did the bulb shopping back in June, they deliver when the time is right. The Anglia Bulb Company are a good bunch, they gave me freebies and the bulbs arrived all nicely packaged with advice to wait till the weather cools down, obviously The Anglia Bulb Company are in Anglia, good advice if you're in the south of Engerland. Up here I can safely introduce bulb to soil on the next dry day I reckon. I'm a big Allium fan, The Starry Towers front garden puts on a good show every year. The start of the year goes, snowdrops first, the tulips, then the alliums, then it goes all roses and everything else. So far, Allium wise, I have are a lot, loads, of the normal sized purples and three giant purples. The performance of these flowers is so impressive I decided to introduce many more to the mix.
More giant purples, more purples, giant whites, whites, violets, lilac blues and some purple reds. The Starry Towers future Allium show is going to be even more way impressive. I also got more Anemones in blue shades (freebies) and blue Irises (freebies), and more Tulips. The Starry Towers front garden puts on a fabulous Tulip show but still has some that aren't red, purple or black. My aim is to remove all the other colours, but I've been trying to do this for several years, the yellows and what not seem to be putting up a good fight. I want it to be all red/purple/black. With that in mind I ordered more reds, lilacs, blacks and violet blues. I've got a load of bulb planting ahead of me. The worst thing about it is trying to not accidently damage the bulbs that are already down there, finding the empty spots isn't easy at this time of year while they're lying dormant. Some gardeners swear by lifting their bulbs and replanting every year. Ohhh M G, they must be mental.
Couple of results to report this evening. Last week at the GP surgery I gave her a fresh, very fresh, urine specimen. I'd asked the receptionist for a bottle and produced the goods there and then, well, not exactly 'there' at the desk, I visited the loo. I'd had a couple of weeks of urinary tract symptoms, the pain, the urgency, the frequency, the blood. The GP tested it and found leucocytes and blood. I phoned the surgery today to be told the official result after Culture & Sensitivity testing. The specimen contained white blood cells and no microbe growth. This indicates Acute Urethral Syndrome I think, the receptionist could only tell me what a doctor had reported on the specimen result..."leucocytes no growth". I'm sure at my next GP appointment I'll talk to her about it and take her advice. The symptoms haven't returned at this time.
The other result I got today was a letter from the Consultant Gynaecologist who performed my Total Abdominal Hysterectomy and Bilateral Salpingo-oophorectomy. They send all the bits away to be tested by the pathology people for cancer cells, I feel sorry for the people who receive the bits. My bits result is...no abnormality, which is a very good thing..
A few days ago I got a letter saying something about the Scottish Parliament would be sending round a Mori Poll type person to ask me bout stuff, something to do with a survey, they say the results influence their decisions on what the country needs. More prying and a waste of my tax payers money, didn't I just complete the big 10 year census, bunch of nosey bastards. Today a wee grey haired, grey bearded, spectacle wearing man rang the Starry Towers door bell saying it was he, he was here to ask the questions. I said, naaahh, he said, can't I persuade you, arm up your back etc, he tried a smiley friendly approach, I said naaahh really actually. I said, I told them stuff this year already, I'm not doing this, and away he went. It did dawn on me maybe I had to do it, on pain of monetary fine type punishment, but it can't be so, or he'd probably have threatened me with that. I'd like if our politians would stop wasting our money, but it doesn't matter what lot get in, they all do it. I'd like for some right tight true Scrooge type Scots to get into power.
On another money matter, Coleen Nolan, promising Park Christmas "Saving" Club will give families a magical Christmas, aye if they don't go bust and keep your money like Farepak did a few years back. Who are these people that sign up for this? I'm guessing it's the people who appear on Jeremy Kyle, them people. "Savings Club" is a very misleading term, though apparently totally legal, they don't give you interest on your "savings", they take your money in exchange for the goods they're selling...that's like what a shop does. I'd argue too...not very good quality goods either, tat type stuff, many that can be personalised. Personalising catalogue goods is never a good thing. Most annoying TV Advert Irritant at this time, not only do they swerve the boundaries of honesty they also have a Nolan. An airbrushed Nolan?
It's all went a bit iSad on the www, Steve Jobs died at age 56 today, he was an outstanding genius of a man. I love my iPod but hate iTunes, so if they could just make iTunes better now he can't argue bout it, I'd be grateful.
The Boy and I watched The Resident. I invited him to watch it with me, he turned it down, I counter-attacked with the threat I'd watch it on my own then, he volleyed back with a make-me-salad-and-ham-sandwiches while I have a shower and I'll watch it with you...I made his supper. This was always going to be better watched with The Boy. I knew we'd have a laugh and a scare together. We both enjoyed it.
This evening I watched Black Dynamite on my own...boring.
03/10/11Weather and Garden News, Italian justice, the Z4 and The Runaways
A
little bit of crochet for the cold on
The Star Swag
Blog.Weather went a little bit OTT here in Sunny D this afternoon. I was out front tending to The Starry Towers gardens, a little bit of gentle pruning. Dead heading the roses and my new favourite chilling pastime, nipping the growing tips of the Escallonia bushes, makes for lots of new fresh growth. It's like every few days there's new stems, I just keep nipping, the Escallonia's seem to appreciate it, they're positively flourishing. Hope winter 2011 doesn't hit them as hard as the last couple winters. The older ones nearly died, I had to cut them right back them two years running, somehow they survived that severe dunt and look well healthy again, just massively shorter than they used to be before the heavy snow, severe temperature dips and hard frosts.
So, there I was, blissfully nipping away, and a weather phenomena occurred around me. A really strong wind got up, an out of the ordinary wind, it came blowing up Main Street with gusto. Autumn leaves rushing past me at ground-level, right down the road and pavements, woooo-ooo-ooooo-ooooosh. No blustery gusts swirling and changing direction, it was all heading east, a west wind, fast and strong. I stood in it watching the leaves and feeling the power, was lovely.
This picture is the Starry Towers hanging baskets. The winter pansies that previously filled them were disappointing this year so the baskets sat empty for a while this summer. As a kind of late summer after-thought I sprinkled the last of the stock seeds in them. I'm pleasantly surprised to find the Virginian and Night Scented stocks had enough time to blossom.
I was out with the G10 taking a photo of the baskets, and thought of The Husband, he's in The Land Of Glacial Crowfoot (Norway's hardiest plant). I figured he'd appreciate a couple pics of the new Z4 looking all lovely and shiny in the drive, and he did...loadsa Brownie points for me. Reminding him what he's got back at home...a lovely shiny red Z4 and a great wife...a great wife who gently suggested a Z4 in the first place, swayed his decision to choose a Z4 the first time round, with the silver, and absolutely refused to entertain anything else but a Z4 this second time round, hence there's this lovely shiny red car in the drive. Sometimes I even amaze myself.
02/10/11Starry Towers Garden Update, Op Update, Super and Jersey skanks
There's a foxy
tail on The
Star Swag Blog.Warning! I'm feeling brave enough to share a photo of my bruised post-hysterectomy abdomen in this blog post, if you don't want to see, don't go on down the page. It's not pretty, seriously, it's really horribly ugly. Remember I told how every nurse and doctor that saw it did recoil while saying stuff like...woooahh that's some bruising! While they regained their composure and tried to look nonchalant checking my blood results to ensure I wasn't accidently getting too much anticoagulant.
So, first...I recently blogged about a really itchy skin reaction and I thought it was probably due to some plant contact, it was effecting my wrists every evening after I'd been pottering in the Starry Towers gardens. By the time I'd scratched around it would spread to my arms, my back, my front, my legs, everywhere really. Well, I've sussed out what was causing the problem.
I was adding information and reading up on my garden plants...I have the information on most of my plants gathered into one word doc...and something caught my attention. It's the Echium Blue Bedder. The clue...the words "caution : skin irritant". I was collecting seeds from them a few days running, and though I was wearing gloves, I wasn't careful about my wrists and arms.
When I explained this to The Husband, his response was he wants to collect seeds and put them in The Boy's bedding and underpants. In defence of this suggestion and laughing off my horror, he says it's just like itching powder, all the kids do it. Do they? Maybe back in his public school boy days.
So this Echium does this to everyone, it isn't me, its them. Which is good, I'll just have to be more careful, problem solved, I can stop the antihistamines tabs till next year.
Echium is a great plant for the bees and other such buzzy insects in the garden, so don't let a little skin irritant put you off. It's also known as Vipers Bugloss and is probably THE best plant to have in your garden if you care about the bees. I found this information explaining why it's so good. Having read this stuff my next project is acquiring Borage and Phacelia, though I think I may have Borage already, I'll check with The Mum.
It's all to do with the plant's amazing pollen production rate and it's pollen protection methods. This year I've gathered seeds from the Echium, the poppies and the Rose Campion. I also got some cuttings I'm really pleased about. I already have a purple Buddleia but was hankering after a lilac one. On my walks around Sunny D I saw a load of the lilac ones, tempting to just steal, but I felt a bit awkward about that. One day I saw a lady in her garden and eyed up her lilac Buddleia, I asked her nicely, turned out it was a nurse I knew from way back, she was very giving, told me to take what I wanted. Two of the cuttings have since rooted, I'm going to give her a box of chocs to say thank you.
Op Update (including the grizzly swollen and bruised tummy pic). It's 15 weeks tomorrow since I was in theatre and got rid of my bits, lets remind ourselves what bits...from the top...two ovaries, two fallopian tubes, a uterus and a cervix. Wake up in a hospital bed after such an operation, and you're the owner of a severe post-hysterectomy menopause. The sweats, the flushes, burning up is a most uncomfortable unusual sensation. The Husband's getting used to it now, he'll be hugging me, then wooaahh there hot stuff, you just get over there for a minute. The bed isn't getting used to it, it's damp, I'm hoping the mattress cover is doing a good job of protecting. I'm sick of this flushing thing, it's not quite so bad during the day because I can react in the moment to flap my hand around my face, open the car window or turn up the AC, remove a layer, blow down the neck of my top or dress and stand outside if need be, but the nighttime wetness following me around the bed is gross and it's disturbed sleeps every night. By the time the sweating wakes me...the bedding, sheet below and duvet above...it's all wet. It's icky and sticky and so uncomfortable, it's nasty and not nice, I hate it. I throw the duvet off then get chilled, I bring the damp duvet back up, then need to throw it back off again.
The last couple of weeks I've also had some urinary tract symptoms, dysuria (pain and burning on passing urine) and a frequent need to pee, a teaspoon at a time. And there was blood. This would normally be indicative of a urinary tract infection. But in the early stages after the op I had these symptoms, at that time I put it down to the op, especially because I'd had a catheter for the first couple days post-op. When these symptoms first returned I was in Norway so had to let it go, thinking I'd go get treatment when I got back home. Then I found they were coming, getting worse, then going away. A few days later they'd be back again. Very confusing. It fluctuated so much I put off making a GP appointment specially for them knowing I was back to see my GP on Friday (30/09/11). She tested my urine sample and on finding blood and leucocytes she sent the sample for culture and sensitivity testing. I'll phone the surgery early in the week for the result. She wrote me a prescription for an antibiotic so if I need it I won't have to go back to the surgery. Meanwhile the symptoms are absent at this time.
It's not all bad, I'm feeling positive in a couple ways, my body feels more like my own again, the abdominal swelling is much reduced, and I can now step down out the back door and go upstairs without feeling my abdomen lurching in that unnatural heavy and sore way. It's not easy to define how it feels after abdominal surgery, it's kinda a numb sensation, unattached and alien, unable to suck it in like normal, but all too much there, sticky out, uncomfortable and painful. Even when the initial very painful stuff dies down there's the twinges of sharp pain for a long time. I still get a few here and there. And sometimes when I inadvertently touch the abdominal scar area, when I do it by accident, cos I don't like to do it intentionally, it's that thing that sends squeamish yeeeuck feelings to the brain. The effected area is getting smaller I think, like sensation is slowly returning. The doc says there's no way of knowing how much sensation will return, maybe the entire area will go back to feeling normal, maybe not. Currently the 'dead' nerve area is approximately a few mm below, and about 10cm above the actual scar. It's that 'dead' way when touched gently, but it's still sore, like an old bruise type sore, if I put any deliberate pressing pressure on it.
Another good thing is the bowel function, in this last week the constipation seems to be gone. The GP did tell me I could expect it to be a while, and I should take Senna till it got better, she was right bout that too.
I'm
feeling positive enough to share the photie of my post-op abdomen, you
were warned. This is post-op day 4, the Friday, the stitch was
removed the next day. The bruising is fading, turning yellow, it
looked even worse on post-op day 1.Due to the fact that I work in what is widely regarded as, and IS in actual fact, a 'heavy' branch of nursing, I'm about half way through the recovery period before I can safely return to work. I've been supported in that by many nurses I've talked to, including nurses who have had a hysterectomy themselves, nurses who understand the physical demands in wards like mine, nurses who realise what a total hysterectomy actually involves.
There is the guilt factor, but The Mum and The Husband are very supportive and are thinking only of my welfare, and so is my GP. I'm never the best one to judge what's best for me, so thank goodness I've got these people on my side looking after me.
I watched Super this evening, a super hero geek movie. The self-declared supers in this one are the usual geeky distressed individuals with low self-esteem and socialising issues of their own, but the portrayal of the violence came as a bit of a shock for this type of film. You want to like the 'good guys', not easy when these people turn out to be violent psychopaths every time they put on their ridiculous outfits. And the police never get a look in, in real life the police would've apprehended this pair early on because of their ineptitude and lack of guile, he frequently leaves the scene in his own car, registration plate obvious to all. There's much more blood and gore than Kick Ass or any other of the comedy super hero movies, these people put on silly costumes then actually smash skulls, stab and kill. And some of the 'baddies' they inflict their form of vigilante violence on aren't actually all that bad. It's a very dark version of the genre, the portrayal of the violence does detract from the humour, it's not very funny watching some kid, who might have or might not have keyed a car, get his head caved in by a diminutive psychopath in a green and yellow latex suit. Too nasty and not funny enough.
However, in comparison to Jersey Shore...
After the movie I tried to work the SKY. I keep meaning to ask The Husband to show me how, eventually I got it and found this Jersey Shore thing. I'm aware this programme exists because there's references to it here and there on some of my favourite podcasts or in a magazine. I'd already heard that there's a girl called Snooki and that's she's horrid in many ways, and that there's a man called The Situation that a clothing company apparently offered payment to NOT wear their clothes, that's basically all I knew already. I watched an episode tonight, yeeuck, could those people get any more skanky? It all looked grimey and distasteful, they all looked like they could do with a wash. They were in Italy and the episode ended with some bulked up tattooed muscular guy going off his drunken head with extreme violence and lots of people crying at his aggression, he was the picture of a steroid abuser with an IQ in single figures. I'm baffled as to their seeming popularity, people should stop watching this junk to make it go away.
01/10/11Sheep News, The Next Three Days and Skeletons
There's
some beautiful leather on
The Star Swag
Blog.
The
Husband and I visited Yetholm Agricultural Show today to watch The Dad
taking part for the first time as sheep owner and official shepherd with
flock. The big news is Rench Marilyn II was champion Shetland.Aye, she's awfie braw, great wool you see.
After the sheep judging The Husband and I had a wander around the rest of the show, which led to him spotting a lady photographer with prints for sale. And who was in several of the photographs? Only The Octogenarian Friend Tom...sadly missed. The Husband came home with a framed A3 size photograph of The Octogenarian Friend.
Taken at the Yetholm Show 2010, which turned out to be, Tom's last ever agricultural show and his final judging.
Very moving when you realise what you're looking at. A moment in time, unaware of the camera, the picture taken by a stranger who was attracted to his face, an interesting face, a face that reminded her of an old uncle, but a face just thee months before the end of this great gentleman's long and fulfilled life.
There were a lot of characters at this Yetholm Show, 2011, and life is for the living and all that stuff. Back at base camp with the Shetland people, Mrs A announces it's Brandy Time. Mrs A is my new favourite Shetland Person now I don't have Tom. Mrs A is of a certain age, lets just show respect and say 'retired'. The Tom show-ritual was Ice-cream Time, Mrs A's is Brandy Time. Checking her watch, seems the sun was over the yard arm, so all hail Brandy O'clock.
I wasn't sure, was it too early? Naaah, a ritual is a ritual, I ritualed ice-cream with Tom, so I felt I really should ritual brandy with Mrs A. I'd never had brandy before, and I reckon I'll keep it for agricultural shows, but I enjoyed the natter and bonding with Mrs A over a tot of B. And there was no denying the buzz/inner glow effect, Mrs A called it a 'little boost'.
The Husband and I watched a couple movies. First up was The Next Three Days with Russell Crowe. Exciting enough, twisty-turny and all, little too syrupy at times, and all too simply tied up, but all in all, was good enough. Wasn't a rollercoaster though, it wasn't THAT good.
And this evening we did Skeletons. This isn't a straight forward type of movie. It started poorly for me, it got so bad I actually suggested watching something else, worried that if I was struggling, The Husband's patience would be wearing even thinner...I thought. But he said, no, lets see what happens.
The beginning, probably up to the first half hour or so, does become a tad too boringly confusing and surreal. You see when I first read about Skeletons I had got the idea that two spy type guys extract the secrets and give the info to the significant other, but seems I missed out the word 'exorcist' when I was reading the reviews. This is two exorcists paranormally doing supernatural shit to find out people's closet-bound skeletons. If I'd known that I'd probably not have went there, dismissed it as too ridiculous. Seems I was of the mind that British cult movies should be all about the real grit and grime, not the supernatural nonsense. I was fully agreeing with my own ideas bout that too, till Paprika Steen appears as Jane, the middle-aged going slightly loopy woman with a husband who disappeared 8 years back. She was lovely, and a great actress and around this point the male characters become more appealing. From about the point she entered the frame, for me, everyone else became more interesting and real, the human stories, human reality and emotions became clearer beneath all the Sally Morgan type psychic storyline. I started to care. By the end of the movie, I'd really enjoyed and was well satisfied with the ending...no spoilers here...watch the movie, you'll probably like it.
28/09/11Wull's Sheep graphic, Weather News and allergies, MJ and Avatar
There's
a cute lace 60s dress bargain on
The Star Swag
Blog.I made a little Wull's Sheep pic which will be used on here to herald Sheep News.
A gorgeous day here at Starry Towers, they're saying it's a very-mini Indian Summer heat-wave type thing that will probably last a day, maybe two if we're very lucky. I spent the day checking the estate, little bit of pottering, trowel in hand, secateurs in the other, happy as a sheep with it's nose in a packet of digestive biscuits, so I was. Late afternoon The Dad dropped by with some fresh potatoes recently pulled from a sheep friend's garden. We will be having home-grown potatoes and a melty bit of butter with a sprinkling of Starry Towers grown chives at the weekend when The Husband's home.
Starry Towers garden wise, there's loads of rose second flushes, late Summer flowering shrubs and Rowan trees heavy with berries. I was perhaps a tad premature with stopping my anti-histamine tablets, I'm having itchy wrists every evening, I'm thinking it's due to allergy plant contact. My nose is really blocked tonight too, as bad as my Norway holiday nasal passage blockage, I put the Norway stuff down to the hotel feather pillows. I don't do feather pillows. I'm going back on the Cetirizine tomorrow, my drug of choice.
He's back in court, in a kind of from-the-grave type way. The Michael Jackson circus rolls on with a photograph of a dead MJ and the releasing of a recording of him talking while doped up to the freakin eyeballs. Sad but true, the man liked to get off his face.
The evidence presented to the jury is a bit biased is it not, stamped with the word HOMICIDE, just in case they need a clue.
I'm suggesting...stupid money-hungry, drug-dealing doctor doing what he was paid to do, apart from the bit where he was meant to keep his patient alive. Dr Murray, denies a charge of involuntary manslaughter, and accusations of “gross negligence, medical abandonment and repeated incompetence". I think he'd have to hold his hand up to the "gross negligence, medical abandonment and repeated incompetence", he was supplying anaesthetic to his boss. What sort of drug-addled fool thinks it's a good idea to be anaesthetised every night? He'd probably have sorted out his insomnia by getting back to normal and drug-free during the day. If he needed anaesthetics to get to sleep at night, how many wide-awake rush/high type drugs would he be having to take during his days???
I watched Avatar this evening, on my own because The Boy and The Husband watched it when it first came out on DVD. I know...took me a while to get round to it (Sci-fi cartoons not my fav genre). Wasn't all that impressed, overly syrupy sentimental story looking too much like a computer game. I was glad at the time and even gladder now, that Hurt Locker got the Oscar, a way better movie.
27/09/11Bible John/Peter Tobin, Sheep News and Product Of The Week
Is
Peter Tobin the 1960s Glasgow serial killer Bible John? Could be,
I hope he is because it would mean Bible John didn't get off unpunished.
I watched the STV documentary In Search Of Bible John presented by David
Hayman tonight, a well made programme, had shivers up and down my spine.
Chilling. They used age regressing techniques to arrive at an
image of what Peter Tobin probably looked like back in the '60s.
And compared that to the photofit image that was believed to be what
Bible John looked like back then. They also showed another photo
of a young Peter Tobin with what is probably a missing tooth, and it did
look a lot like an eye-witness description from the '
60s
.The programme makers apparently made two versions of the documentary but went with the one that includes a plea to Tobin at the end. David Hayman speaks to Tobin, "I have it on good authority that Peter Tobin likes to watch programmes about himself on the television in his cell, so Peter, if you are watching, here is my message to you. Put all this conjecture to rest and tell the truth. It is time to put a lot of people out of their misery at last.” Worth a shot, appealing to the serial killer natural inclination to brag. Peter Tobin is currently adopting that other serial killer natural inclination, that of holding the position of power and superiority. He has previously bragged to a psychiatrist that he killed 48 women then said "prove it". Tobin is the poster boy for bringing back the death penalty. I'm opposed to spending my tax payers money on maintaining a life such as his.
Sheep News : on a much more pleasant note, The Dad is officially a shepherd with his own...growing... flock of Shetland sheep. Joining Rench Marilyn and Rench Marilyn II are two little ewes and a ram, all three of Rench fame, bred by the much missed Octogenarian Friend, Tom Findlay.
The girls are Rench Davina and Rench Iolanthe, and the boy is Rench Dandy. They are so very sweet, look at them cute little faces. I've borrowed these photies from The Brae Flock FaceBook page. The Dad's sheep live with The Brae Flock.
I predict there's going to be a whole load more Sheep News on The Star Blog, The Dad will be breeding and showing his Shetlands, and I get a nice warm fuzzy feeling in memory of Tom.
Aiming for the top Dad, I reckon we could well be at The Royal Highland Show watching The Dad pick up some rosettes in future. I predict a Shetland Sheep Success Story.
We just need to come up with a great new name for the flock, I suggested Wull's Woolies, but it didn't get a good response.
Product Of The Week is Garnier Miracle Skin Perfector DailyAll-In-One BB Cream. A BB is a Blemish Balm, which makes it sound like a spot cover item, but it's actually the newest cosmetic big thing. Multi-tasking foundations.
They claim to do a whole bunch of good skin stuff. This Garnier BB claims to brighten the skin in the same way a primer does, provide luminosity and radiance, even out the complexion like a lightweight foundation, cover blemishes like a concealer, hydrate like a moisturiser, soothe skin like an anti-inflammatory, contain UV protection (factor 15) and have the sort of anti-ageing ingredients more commonly found in serums to smooth fine lines. I got mine, the 'light' shade, with one of my Scottish pounds off at Boots, only £8.99.
I like it a lot, enough to make me change from my usual preferred foundation I've used for several years. Garnier BB is wet, I can practically feel my skin drinking it in on application. I find it's so luminous and 24 hour moisturising that I no longer need to apply my used-to-be absolutely essential Nivea Visage Daily Essentials Oil Free Moisturising Day Cream beforehand but I still have to apply a light dusting of 17 Shine Control Pressed Powder to control the shine. I've got one or two blemishes and fine lines I'm watching closely, in the hope they'll be soothed and smoothed out of existence.
26/09/11Project Barnum, business cards and annoying TV ads
You can make a difference. There's a place you can add your name to try to change the situation. Psychics/mediums/clairvoyants, otherwise known as liars, charlatans and con-people should be prevented from living the life of Riley off of fooling their gullible fans with their cold-reading and other such techniques ie trickery. Project Barnum is asking theatres to stop psychic shows, sign the petition here.
Others are so unstable they do it for nothing. And I should know, I've been Reikied, free gratis. By a very damaged woman, she'd been suckered in and believed that she had powers to heal others because some 'Psychic Surgeon' had removed the foetus of her dead twin from her neck, and thus, improving her life greatly, she felt so good about her experience she got trained and was now doing it to others. On the one hand I could see an obvious improvement in this woman's circumstances. She described to me her sexually-abused childhood, the mental illness was blatantly obvious. She explained that psychiatric services had tried to help her, she'd been diagnosed with Schizophrenia and given medication. She met the 'psychic surgery' people and stopped medicating, broke away from the medical services. She harboured a deep hatred of doctors and the medical model of care and treatment. She was high on the paranormal, but she was so out of touch with reality, it could only end in tears.
I'll never know if she was part of a whole group of mentally ill damaged people supporting each other in a strange deluded group therapy community self-care setting or if she was one innocent victim of a few bad guys. Hey-ho, she wouldn't listen to anything I tried to tell her anyway.
If you're lucky enough to meet me in person I'm going to give you one of my own personal business cards now. I made them at Vistaprint. This pic shows the front and back, neat.
Sometimes adverts annoy me so much I feel the need to tell you about it. There's two annoying me greatly right now, they are so feckin wrong. Both are for SURE deodorant. A bit ironic, because I'm a SURE roll-on deodorant devotee, I use the Sure Crystal Clear Aqua, no white marks on my LBD.
It works, does what it says on the tin and all that. Still, doesn't give them a pass to talk shit, the ads in question...
#1 the jingle bells. SURE asked women to use jingle bells so they realised how much they moved. Personally, and maybe it's just me, but I know how much I move. Motion Sense Technology...I'm not persuaded.
#2 the fine fragrance collection. He's on his way to his perfume launch and notices out of the chauffeur driven car window that women never stop. He must be 60 or 70, where's he been? I don't understand how it took till now before he noticed that women move a lot.
21/09/11croc of con reply, Google+ and REM
Also The Continental Tripping Journal 2011 #2 telling the tale of my most recent trip in the direction of the Scandinavian countries is completed and online.
In the interests of fair play, I'll give anyone their right to reply, even liars, con-people and crazy folks, here is Sally Morgans' reply to Chris French.
Another annoying thing is that Google+ social circle thing. Was bad enough when they were making that blue arrow point to it every time I was a-Googling, but even more of an inconvenience and a bother is...on the black bar, I used to have the 'shopping' option, but the +You thing has knocked my shopping off into the 'more' drop-down box.
I'm no real pleased at that and can't figure out how to make the +You go away.
Something else a bit annoying, that REM waited so long to split
20/09/11well spank my arse and call me Sally and Comedy Central night with The Boy
Well spank my arse and call me Sally, who'd have thought it, a 'psychic' duping the foolish. And strangely enough, I recently was called Sally, on my birthday card from The Husband.
Today's Guardian.co.uk article written by Chris French on Sally Morgan, you know, THE Sally Morgan of croc-of-con fame, tells of evidence of her so-called 'psychic' tricks. Not that evidence is needed, just nice to see charlatans come a cropper. If it leads to just one of her believers realising the error of their deluded ways, then great.
Watched trailer episode of new season - without Charlie Sheen - Two and a Half Men with The Boy this evening. I had to wait for The Boy, to make the SKY thing work, I don't know how. He tells me this Comedy Central is there all the time and easily found, channel something or other. Quite enjoyed the show, though the Kushty's character seems a bit of a simpleton and he isn't Charlie. Way I figure with the storyline they've left the door open, Charlie could return. H
Then we watched the Charlie Sheen Roast, also on Comedy Central...very very very funny. The Boy and I laughed, we laughed so hard, though The Boy did admit, a couple times he felt bits of 'too soon' and/or 'too emotional'. He was offended by some stuff
he
called 'racist' and the bit when a joke was made at Steve-O's expense
bout his dead friend Ryan Dunn. Yeah, dead Ryan Dunn, THE Ryan Dunn who
drove under whatever substance-influence and died in an accident of his
own doing. He could've wiped out a couple of Mum+Dad+2.4 kids,
wasn't it a good thing that he only killed himself and his pal?This tells me, my son is a far more decent and caring individual than his mother, I failed to be offended at all. However, The Boy is a lot younger than me...by 30 yrs, and this could explain how he views stuff. I blame the UK education system, pathetic with their un-funny PC 'moral code'. And his age, I remember having very similar strong crazy -ism feelings and ideas when I was his age. I do recall feeling strongly bout political, feminist, anti-war, CND, veggie, animal rights, ban this and hug that etc, back in the day. But now? not so much.
The Roast was all really really hilarious. Amy Schumer deserves a special mention, whoever she is, she's edgy. It was a Roast, don't be on the stage if you can't take it. I ♥ Charlie.
19/09/11Norway trip 2011 #2 and E-fag News
and everyone should buy at least one,
but probably two.The Husband and I are just back from Norway again, but he's walking out the door to go again...such is the life of the international traveller, bon vivant, oil industry insider, racing champion and human comet that is The Husband. I flew out to Stavanger, via Amsterdam, a couple of days there then The Husband and I drove back in the new Z4, via Denmark.
There'll be a write up journal available ASAP and photies up when I get the time, meanwhile this is the Viking who returned to Starry Towers with us.
As a non-smoker...twelve weeks and 4 days, thanks for asking...I'm very satisfied and highly recommend the E-Cigarette, as seen on Johnny Depp in The Tourist.
I've been using mine with the nicotine-free cartridges for approximately 12 weeks and find it's fantastic for them times when you really have to have something to suck and blow, though The Husband does make frequent suggestions on what else can be used instead. Every time the Stop-Smoking Nurses spoke to me and we mentioned the E-Cigarette they had to tell me the NHS does not recommend the use of E-Fags and why didn't I try the gum or the inhalator or a patch, something the NHS does recommend. But I'd be telling her, I'm using the E-Fags with NO nicotine, it wouldn't be good to start taking nicotine again, and these E-Ciggies must be safe, watch The Tourist.
Now, there is good news in the E-Ciggis department, just recently the Government has made noise that sounds like the E-Cigarette will eventually be fully endorsed by the NHS, read the information here.
12/09/11weather and IEMs
There's some weather trying to get noticed here at Starry Towers. We're getting the tail end of Hurricane Katia, it's almost embarrassing, with it's 'travel disruptions' and it's 'gusts of up to 70 mph'. STV had to go to the obvious place to get anything worth trying to be excited about. They reported from the Saltcoats sea-front over on the west coast. They chatted to one older couple who'd driven down to watch the waves blow over the road.
Here at Starry Towers one of our large Rowan tree saplings got knocked off it's pot feet in it's big pot. A to-be-expected hazard for such tall young trees in big pots on patios, when the pots each sit atop three pot feet. The pot feet raise the pots off the floor level to help save the plants/trees from Winter frost damage, but they make them much easier to coggle over, and in high winds it's the taller specimens that catch the gusts.
I'm a big fan of the work of Frank Skinner and have an avid listen to his twice weekly podcasts. They speak of this minor phenomena, the Idiotic Eureka Moments (IEMs). This is when you have been aware of something for a lengthy period of time and suddenly realise there is another meaning or level, and it seems so clear you should've realised way before now. I've had two, yes TWO, IEMs in the last week. Isme, I thought it was pronounced like Izmy, it's a clothing catalogue I think, they sponsor Loose Women. Well I just realised isme, 'it's me!' that dress, or this blouse, IS ME! I get it. And Doc Martin, the Martin Clunes TV prog, his name is Doctor Martin, like Dr Martin, the boots, I'm not really sure if this is intentional because I can't see the connection between a country GP and tuff footwear.
11/09/119/11 - a decade on, dams - Cruachan and Lawers and Limitless
I find my eyes welling up with tears on a regular basis because I keep thinking of that day, and the people who died knowing their plane was slamming into a Twin Tower, the people at their desks when a plane killed them instantly, quite by surprise. The people on the floors above, trapped, knowing for a half hour or so, realising, they were going to die, phone calls to loved ones, some made contact, some left messages. The ones who jumped. The police and fire-fighters who willingly entered the buildings to do their jobs. OMG! I'm crying. I can't stop crying about 9/11.
Currently I'm so surgically-induced-menopausal deranged I have little control over the gushing emotions I'm feeling. I think it's a mix of my hormone turmoil, my recent birthday (I'm nearly 50 you know) and the aging process reminding me, every time I look in the mirror, we are all going to die, everyone dies. My old Octogenarian Friend died December 2010, and I'm not quite over that, and the big 9/11 anniversary footage.
The world stood still for me as I watched events unfold on a TV at work. I was supposed to be administering medications in the east sitting room of ward 32 at Bangour Village Hospital, a job that would normally take half an hour tops took me several hours, I couldn't work for watching. I knew the suffering I was witnessing, and I knew there would be repercussions resulting in an escalation in human pain, suffering and death. The actions of these few deluded extremist bastards would make the world a worse place. And of course that's exactly what happened, religion strikes again.
There's a stylish accessory over on The Star Swag Blog.
The Husband and I released the Cruachan today, with a visit to the hollow mountain that is Ben Cruachan on the north shore of Loch Awe in Argyll. A working power station in a massive cavern buried one kilometre below the ground, where four enormous turbines convert the power of water into electricity.
The visitor centre is a great example of getting the tourist trap experience right. It's modern and clean, pleasant facilities with really nice staff.
We shared a toastie and side salad, The Husband wanted the toastie and I wanted the salad. We spoke of sharing at the till, when a lady delivered it to our table they had thoughtfully divided the meal onto two plates and when she spotted we hadn't lifted cutlery, off she went and fetched that back for us, with napkins. The pony-tailed and decoratively tattooed chap Mikey was our guide. Mikey is in the Scottish Stand-Up Comedian mould of tourist attraction guide. Much the same humour as the man at The Falkirk Wheel, indeed both started their routines with the same we-set-off-in-boat/bus-then-stop-just-seconds-later-and-announce-end-of-trip joke. To his credit Mikey was a lot more topical, sharper, fresh (and younger and better-looking). Though his material always related to the audience members as if they were all foreigners, which, given that I was there, we weren't.
The tours are regular, quite quick and not very spectacular, but still, I found some of the information interesting, mostly that 15 men died building this. And I certainly have a better understanding of it's history, workings and purpose. A 440 MW reversible pump-storage power station built in the early '60s (that makes it round-about much the same age as me), it is a fantastic engineering feat. One disappointment is this wasn't devised as a purpose-built tourist attraction, damn them, what were they thinking I ask you? They could've put a lift shaft in. Anyways if you want to see the dam at the top of the Ben you have to walk up there of your own accord and apparently that takes quite some time, and, well, it's walking. In today's weather that would definitely be trudging.
If you fancy a visit, you can get all the information at the Cruachan website. I like this hydropower, especially stuff that's out of sight underground, and not an ugly big eyesore like wind turbines.
While enjoying our meal we couldn't help but notice, most - but not all - visitors were of a certain age, ie most could say, 'I'm nearly 70 you know'. Not complaining like, a plus point is they tend to be very well behaved, zero riot threat.
Overheard in the cafe, a group of four elderly Englanders, two men and their ladies. The loudest of them, a man, seemed like a bit of a character, he was saying how he doesn't like this email thing, much rather phone to make a booking.
Started me, what it would be like back in the day, in my best impersonation Englander accent...see what I don't like is, I don't like these new telle-phone-otics, this modern technology, what I like to do is get on me 'orse, ride over to the next town, right, get off me 'orse, tie me 'orse up, walk up the garden path, knock on the door, go inside, sit down...then negotiate a ticket buying booking deal.
We saw a lot of trudgers today, heads down, a heaviness about them, cold and wet, how can that be pleasurable? The hot meal by the log fire and the shower and warm bed in a hotel at the end of each trudging day sounds very nice, but the trudging itself, nahhh. What you could do instead is, drive a vehicle, when you get to your accommodation that evening, run around the car park for a few minutes, get some air and a bit of a chill about you, get a bit breathless, work up a sweat, then pop in to the hotel, a wee dram, a hot meal by the log fire, hot shower, warm bed. Much better. We prefer the motorised trudging, especially the type afforded by the reassurance of a Range Rover.
On the scenic route home The Husband was swayed by a road-sign stating 'not suitable for caravans', off we went up a single track road, found ourselves on and climbing up, no other than, feckin heck, the famous Ben Lawers.
Regular readers will know my funny Ben Lawers story...ach...it's worth the re-telling.
Several years back The Husband and I were driving through this area, he was relatively new to The Highlands and the Scottish lingo. Seems he'd been taking in his surroundings and wondering. Lawers village, the Ben Lawers Hotel, Ben Lawers Street, Lawers Community Hall, Lawers this and Ben Lawers that. He announced, I'll need to Google this Ben Lawers, he must be really important as everything's named after him. I laughed, a lot, then explained a BEN is a mountain, anyways, our Ben Lawers story is a funny tale, makes me laugh everytime.
You'll understand, it was rather nice when we found ourselves taking the RR up Ben, we went elbow-deep in Ben...and then...The Husband pissed on Ben. A bit inappropriate that. I did get photographic evidence too, which is in probably even more seriously inappropriate, but it's done now, so if you wanna see, email me at Marilyn@MarilynsWorld.com. Anyways, the exciting bit is, up there on top of Ben there's a dam. Very similar to the one we didn't see back at Cruachan, so that was nice.
The Husband and I watched Limitless last night. T'was entertaining enough, but I think a tad too simplistically tied up at the end.
08/09/11Celeb BB 2011 blink and I missed it
Yes, a load of stars on The Star Swag Blog, but not so many on CH5. I'm preparing this blog post while watching the Celeb BB final, having accidently stumbled across it with an unfortunate press of a remote control button. That went past quick, this 2011 Celebrity BB thingy. I've occasionally been aware of a bit of it here and there, the boy and girl band competition action, I admit I saw that and found it mildly entertaining. Seems just a couple of nights ago there was a load of them still in there, whoever they all were, though I did recognise the Jedward lady-boys and the Katona woman. Who is this Paddy of which they speak? They not only speak of him, they're screaming for him. He don't look up to much to me. What? What is he saying? FFS! This is ridiculous, 'I'm me' he keeps saying, me? WHO are YOU? I'm not a fan of your work.
Ahhh, how intriguing, right at the end of this evening's programme, they're saying the winner of CBB 2011 is this, seems he's a big fat gypsy, this Paddy person. But they're saying its all kicking off again tomorrow with Pamela Anderson in there already. Is this when Charlie Sheen is going to appear?
I have absolutely no clue what the feck is going on, I'm out of this BB loop, which is probably a good thing really.
07/09/11dentist, 60 watts of actually being able to see in a room when you switch the light on, Weather News and a big croc
One day it's your birthday, the next, your sitting in a dentist chair, and I reckon, that's a right good and true analogy of how life will treat you.
It wasn't deliberate, my choice of dentist date, it just happened. I really don't seek out situations dripping in poignant difference and melancholic incongruity. Honestly.
When I was a child The Parents ensured I attended the dentist exactly as advised by the NHS system, I was in the chair on a very regular basis. I'm assuming back in the 60s/70s children in the UK attended at least 6 monthly, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was an annual event, whatever it was, I was there, I have very good, loving parents who brought me up right and proper.
In childhood I went to a dentist in Lanark for all my inspection, filling and drilling needs. I also required orthodontist type input, but all the treatment was done by the same dentist guy. I just can't remember his name, he'll be well retired by now. Retired or dead. In this day and age the orthodontist stuff gets done by a different professional, I know this because The Boy has had much the same dental reshaping and he had to go to an orthodontist for that side of toothy stuff.
But, anyway, thing is, the older I get, the less admiration I have for dentists. I often feel true hatred for the bastards. The one I have at this time, she's a bit frosty, but in general she seems to know what she's doing and I haven't detected any money-grabbing behaviour from her. In the past...suffice to say I've suffered at the hands of dental disparities. I won't go into detail...not right now.
Today's appointment went fine.
Afterwards I went for a stroll along the Main Street in this local town and visited two shops, a Co-operative and a Semi-Chem, then returned to Starry Towers on a bus. It's not something I do very often at all, but I'm thinking it's no bad thing to check out what's going down on the streets. The best buy of this out-of-the-ordinary experience, I came home with x18 60W bulbs, I stripped the shelf of their mini globe screw 60s. I'm scared shitless of the day I have no more 60W bulbs and have to peer half-blinded into a poorly lit room waiting for at least 17 minutes before the government-approved eco-bulb gets up to top performance. I like a room I can see in.
Weather's turning here at Starry Towers, why just yesterday I had to ask The Boy to assist in the removal of the swing seat canopy. When the wind gets up it causes the seat to lift right off the ground and sometimes this can knock pots off pot-feet. I don't like it at all.
Summit else I don't like, is the capture of the one-ton croc in The Philipines. The Bunawan town mayor Edwin Elorde says they intend to turn this into a tourist attraction. The so-called 'eco-park' doesn't even exist yet, but he says they'll build it around the crocodile. So far they've captured, tied up, strapped down, pushed a huge tube down it's throat and pumped gallons of water into it's stomach. I'm not convinced they know what they're doing.
I'd imagine this creature would jump to it's death, given this choice of living, his future's about as bright as a 25W eco-bulb.
06/09/11my birthday
With
the ten year anniversary of 9/11 in a few days, there's a lot of
coverage of the events on the TV and in magazines. I can't stand
it. I'm an emotional wreck and very tearful because of the
menopause and this stuff is so unbearably painful, I can't imagine how
terrible it is for them that lost their nearest and dearest, I didn't
personally know any of the victims, and it's breaking my heart.
The story of the son in one of the planes that crashed into the towers,
phoning his Dad to say goodbye and I love you, and telling him, don't
worry Dad, it'll be over fast. Meaning he, his wife and their two
year old daughter would die immediately and not in prolonged agony.
Oh my, how does anyone live with that pain? Have to not watch the
9/11 stuff.The footage of people jumping from the towers, how bad must it have been in there that to jump from many floors up was preferable? Terrible, bless them all.
On a lighter note, it's my birthday, I'm even closer to being nearly 50, which is one of my favourite sayings, I'm nearly 50 you know.
Right, you know the concept of Moonpig, cards you personalise to make them really special, individual and appropriate, a Moonpig card makes the recipient feel really loved. As The Husband is in The Land Of Hurra For Deg Som Fyller Ditt år!, and because I'm his one and only special ikkle darlingo sweetienuts, I got Moonpigged, awe, lovely. But what I want to know is, who the feck is Sally?
It's my birthday, The Mum visited and The Boy and I had chocolate fudge cake. I'm not saying what The Husband is giving me, because he doesn't know yet and I want to keep it hush hush till I see him. That's how we roll here, I find what I want, he finances it, I obtain it then give it to him just seconds before he gives it back to me to open and portray the very picture of surprise and delight.
It works better this way, we tried it the other, more traditional way, but I was never all that very surprised or delighted.
Here's a very upbeat happy cheerful Starry Towers Sunflower, planted by a garden bird from one of their feeders. Sweet.
05/09/11Op Update and the Birds Eye Bear
My well-radical Hysterectomy plus Oophectomy and consequent plunge into deepest darkest Menopause is ten weeks old today. It's a real slow process. My experience of it anyway, I'm finding it a slow recovery, slow but steady. The difference from day 1 post-op to now is absolutely amazing to me.
In the beginning I was reeling from the physical and psychological scarring, it's quite a dunt you know. However, in about the last week or so I've started to feel an improvement, my body seems to be returning to normal. Right up till about one week ago my lower abdomen area was so hard and really sticky-outy, making wearing anything even slightly restrictive/tight very uncomfortable. It felt so bad I've had to have bare legs all Summer. Thank goodness I had a Summer op, I now know a Winter op wouldn't have been doable for me.
Quite often I've felt, ironically, pregnant. Not just pregnant, but ironically pregnant. This bump was alien, not part of me, and it comes with a massive amount of loss. All the things that I've lost. The physical bits and pieces they took away, the hormones-no-more, my fertile youthfulness, my babies that will never be (there are some good points then). The tummy is still tender to the touch and the immediate area around the stitch line is numb. I don't know for sure what's the worst thing, numb or mild lingering tenderness? Probably the numb, it's so strange, gently run a nail over the numb bit, and nothing. So unnatural it's really unnerving. I find I have to immediately scratch another bit of skin near-by, a bit that has nerve endings in full-on working condition. This some-how makes things feel better, much better, puts my mind at rest, a little bit.
One
major problem that hasn't got any better is constipation. I went
to see a lady GP last Friday, out of necessity due to the sick-line
situation. She advised I take Senna, on a daily basis. She
says the bowel-experts advice it's way better to take the Senna than to
risk damaging your internals with the straining. I was right glad
to hear this because, the straining really was pretty sore, it didn't
feel right at all.The Boy dropped by this afternoon, to pick up some footie clothing, on route to his weekly 5-a-side game with his mates. On his way back out I suggested he should take a bottle of water out the fridge. He'd surely need a bottle of water, off to play football and all, he said nahhh, he'd be OK, he was in a hurry, I said...no really, get a bottle of water, out the fridge, seriously...THE FRIDGE! NOW!!!
He did what his mother told him, he could tell it was important. Then he experienced our Birds Eye Bear, and I swear I witnessed him actually shudder, he finds the Bird's Eye Bear unnerving. I find that funny.
We'll be eating fish fingers till Xmas, but he's worth it.
04/09/11Car Wars or The Great Z4 Change of 2011
There's the Range Rover, I heart the Range Rover, so does The Husband, no argument there. The RR is our extremely reliable workhorse of a vehicle. For Winter weather and other such bad road conditions, we both agree, it's great. I recall the Top Gear episode when Jeremy Clarkson drove it down a river in some far flung, I think it was Deepest Africa. He drove an RR over all terrains, it got right exciting, so it did. His conclusion was 'the world's most unreliable car turns out to be the world's most reliable car.'
We don't have an issue with our RR. Our problem was with the fun car, the Z4. See, he wanted to swap our pretty baby for this fat-arsed Mercedes Coupe type car, apparently it has a massive huge wonderful engine type thing going on, and I saw for myself how luxurious it was indoors, all wood and leather and electronics, but it has a huge fat arse. It's got a sun-roof window thing, it has these side windows, when the windows are down...it's one big long side open space...no middle bit between front seat and back seat windows...I weren't impressed. It didn't have a soft top, it weren't a convertible. It was big, did I say 'big'? It was more than big, it was huge, fat, massive, a glut of car, not sleek. Common, it looked like loads of other cars on the roads. Bottom line...it didn't look like the Bat-Mobile, an essential quality for me.
The Husband was annoyed at me. I called him 'impulsive', he agreed he is, he likes being impulsive and tried to be that...but I got emotional, I huffed and later, alone together, I cried. I wanted to keep the Z4. It was actually painful for me to imagine being Z4-less. I couldn't face life without.
He told me the Mercedes had such a fantastically smooth and comfortable connection with the road, whatever, worryingly, when it got parked with one front wheel right up on top the kerb...no-one in the car noticed, not The Husband who was doing the test-driving, not the garage guy accompanying us, and certainly not me. That's how wonderfully smooth and comfortable this car was, which is great and all, but, seems to me, this car could well run a person over till they are dead, and no-one in the car would even notice. I've heard of cases on the news like this, suggesting a driver run over a person and didn't know it, I found that incredulous, I'd go as far as to say, that prior to this test-drive, I poo-pooed that nonsense. However, I'd say now it is very possible. The dead person would have to be lying in the road waiting for a passing Mercedes though, because I think we'd still notice if the fat-arsed Mercedes struck them down first before running them over.
He argued that vehicles, engines, mechanical stuff, motorbikes, cars, was his thing. He said that he never knew a car decision should be based on 'looks'. He said 'looks' like it was a bad thing. He reminded me I don't drive. I was so very upset, I love this man, we are so good together, he's by a long chalk the best of my three husbands, but...seriously...NO!!!
Anyways, what I wanted we had already found, I wanted...gorgeous, the status quo...a Z4. What he wanted...change...a bigger engine thing in a fancy big heavy lux thing. I wasn't looking to change, though having the concept of 'no-Z4' suggested...I'd be willing to change to a Corvette, The Lemon Popsicle we enjoyed in Las Vegas was the trigger that caused me to encourage The Husband to buy a Z4 on our return to Scotland, in the first place.
It got bad, and I was left quite traumatised. The Husband dealt with the situation better, cos evidently, he moved on quickly enough. I was still smarting and hurting, worried bout the future, I was scared.
Anyways, I admit I was probably wrong to get all pouty and tearful (in my defence I am surgically-menopausal, which is the most severe kind of menopausal), BUT...however, the final result turns out to be for the best for both of us.
Woo-hoo! Check it out! The only way I could ever possibly part with our beautiful silver Z4...is for another gorgeous Z4.
The Husband has picked an M Series Imola Red Z4. I don't know the details of the brag-worthy engine stuff, all I know is...it's Bat-Mobile out-standing gorgeous, and he's well pleased with it. The one other thing I know is it has 4 exhausts compared to the silver one's solo exhaust. I'm happy.
02/09/11The Dad's got three Marilyns now
There's
foldable pumps on
The Star Swag Blog, I've got so much I need to
catch up with on there, keep checking in, loads of good stuff to come.My regular readers know I had the privilege of enjoying the friendship of my Octogenarian Friend Tom, general good guy, wise-old-man and Shetland Sheep Aficionado for the last few years of his long and interesting life. Tom rewarded my friendship by naming a sheep after me.
The Dad became good friends with Tom too, bonding over the Shetland Sheep. With Tom's passing we were all left deeply saddened and grieving, and my sheep, Rench Marilyn, would be sold.
Rench Marilyn is now 3 years old and a mother. Her baby, Rench Marilyn II was born on the 1st April 2010, both would go to Lanark Market. Sad, but such is life in the world of farming and animal husbandry.
Lanark Market on the 18th August 2011, the sheep sale was on, but first Rench Marilyn II won a trophy for 'Best Wool On The Hoof'. Then the sale was really on, and The Dad bought the Marilyns. Both of them, mother and daughter. Sentimental reasons he said, 'he named her after you' he said. Isn't he wonderful. Yes he is. I lurve The Dad.
The Mum and I went with The Dad the other day to visit the Marilyns and the rest of the sheep he's been taking care of while their owners were on holiday.
It's quite surprising how forward sheep are when you've got a packet of digestive biscuits in your hand. They flocked to me. I was butted, stood and jumped on, I was chased and I was nibbled.
And I was nuzzled affectionately, they're so very sweet.
I'll put more pictures on the Fur & Feathers Gallery when I get round to it.
I was mostly laughing, but I was verging on hysteria a few times, especially when one of the little rams was trying to eat my silver 'Marilyn' Necklace.
Big fun family time.
They're an adorable breed these Shetlands.
31/08/11E-Tripping
Whoo-hoo...hello,
hello! It's good to be back, did you miss me, yeah, while I was
away, did you hang my picture on your wall? Ooops, that's not
really on, singing a Gary Glitter song. Bad enough his crimes
against the minors, but also, it's no longer ironically cool to sing a
GG song, damn him, damn him all to Hell. Where is he these days
anyway, I remember the law said he wasn't allowed to leave the UK ever
again, is he still alive? I'll Google it later.Anyways, unless you come under the official term of 'family' you probably wouldn't even have noticed I wasn't in Scotland for 9 days there. Best to keep it on the QT, don't tell the www and it's dodgy uncle that your house is uninhabited.
The Husband took me on an E-Trip, with the E representing Europe. In the Z4 we drove down to Harwich and boarded the Dana Sirena ferry to Esbjerg in Denmark, a four hour drive up Denmark and a second boat to take us over to Norway. And a week in The Hummeren Hotel on the waterfront at Tanager near Stavanger.
I flew back on Tuesday, Edinburgh via Amsterdam. I wasn't looking forward to the lone trip home, all that having to focus, right place at the right time, don't miss a plane. But, fortune smiled on me there too, and a knight in shining armour type swooped from out of nowhere, treated me to the Business Class Lounge with wine and nibbles then ensured I was in the right place with perfect timing. I didn't have to focus and I still got on the right planes, success.
The story is on The Continental Tripping 2011 Norway Journal and more photies will be added to The Norway Gallery when I get the time.
28/08/11ciggie rights & wrongs
Right,
here's something to get really annoyed about.According to The Daily Record a paedophile is suing over having to share his Scottish prison cell will cigarette smokers. As a recent giver-upperer, 9 weeks and counting, thank you for asking, I can empathise with both sides of this issue. In fact, I can see another side and I'm particularly well placed to appreciate the intricacies of all three.
This scummy, low-life, foul, wicked (in a bad way), not-fit-to-breath-Scottish-air, bastard, ie a paedophile, is 63 year old Mahmood Qadri, currently receiving free bed and board from Scottish tax payers. He claims being forced to share a cell with cigarette smoke has infringed his human rights and has caused him “significant and prolonged physical and mental distress”. I'll significantly and prolonged-ly dole out more physical/mental/painful/broom-handle-up-arse type pain to distress him further if he doesn't watch it. Smoke he says, I'd give him fire. He doesn't even deserve to breath Scottish cigarette smoke, you can see where I'm going with this, he doesn't actually qualify to be breathing, full stop. Given the option, I'd like to get medieval on his ass.
These so-called 'people' are so full of whimpering demands for their human rights, and show no concern for the human rights of little children! S'cuse me a minute...
...right back again, had to go outside to SCREAM!
It's estimated if he wins this case it could lead to a total cost to Scottish tax-payers of 16 million of our Scottish pounds, as all the other poor little criminals and their horrendously abused human rights start whinging all the way to the nearest no-win-no-fee lawyer. Eee gadz, s'cuse me again...
...yes, that was another, even louder, SCREEEEEEEAAMMMMM!!!
Now, who in there at Edinburger head office decided that the only public buildings in Scotland that would permit smoking would be jails? Was Jack MaFeckinConnell too shit-feart to go to the prisons and tell the scary bad people that they couldn't have a fag in their rooms? And if they were too worried to stop prisoners smoking, surely at least one bright spark at the parliament should've realised that it was a blatant act of stupidity to have a bunch of non-smoking whinging crims in with smoking crims? They could've at least insisted the bad guys go to a smoking room, and not be allowed to smoke in their cells. Unbelievable, absolutely totally inexplicable.
Now the third view on this issue, a larger-picture view. Lets look at the hospital setting. I won't talk of all hospital wards, obviously many type of ward should rightfully have a complete smoking ban. But what of the mentally ill? What of people with mental health issues who are taken from their own homes and admitted to hospital against their will. Due to illness, at their most vulnerable, with their human rights already rode rough-shod over, they are also told they can't smoke, not indoors anyway. If a patient wants to smoke they have to go outdoors, and depending on their mental state at the time, but regardless of the weather conditions, often a nurse will have to escort the patient.
Yet criminals get to smoke in a public building setting. For example, a 30 year old man who raped 3 women, a 54 yr old man who robbed two shops at gun-point and a 23 yr old who knocked an 88 year old demented lady to the pavement as he made off with her handbag, they get to smoke indoors, in their own cells, laying around on their beds, relaxing with a cup of coffee watching the TV.
The little old 88 year old demented woman who got pushed to the ground as the lad made off with her pension, she never really got over that episode, even after her fractured wrist had healed, her son says she was always fearful after the terrible time she was assaulted and robbed. Her memory deficits rapidly worsened, she was forgetting to eat, cigarette burns were evident on her clothing, she was phoning her kids multiple times throughout the night and she refused to leave the house, even for doctor appointments because she insisted a bad man was waiting to harm her. She became convinced that she could see a bad man outside, watching her house, and was soon phoning her son and daughter with rambling tales of a man who was talking to her, demanding that she give him money.
Of course her family were worried sick and in regular communication with hospital and community health care staff throughout their mother's rapid decline. And then comes the inevitable, the joint decision, joint, that is, between family and care team, the old lady wants none of it. They decide Mum has to go into hospital to be properly assessed. Mum's argumentative and can be aggressive, a section of the Mental Health Act strips the old lady of a couple of her basic human rights. She has no say in what roof is over her head and if she wants to smoke it'll be at staff convenience and outside, all weathers. And when I say staff convenience, they do have a lot of other things to do and have to prioritise, obviously they can't take every smoker outside every time a smoker wishes to smoke. It can lead to disgruntled smokers and harangued nurses.
Long story short, the old lady says feck off on a regular basis and spends the rest of her life in an NHS challenging behaviour unit. Despite it now being 'home' and against her will, it's the same NHS smoking ban, same issues, same outside in the rain, snow, high winds, whether you're 88 and on you're last legs or not. The Patient Advocates jump up and down over every other issue, but no-where to be seen when it comes to cigarettes, I don't understand. Where's the no-win-no-fee lawyers when you need one? How long before a next of kin takes this one to court and costs the Scottish tax-payers a few more million?
Who's better off? the lad who robbed her or the old lady? The bad guy of course. All smokers take one step forward, not so fast little old lady, where'd you think you're going?
I'm arguing for the freedom of choice, in long-term care situations and prisons, a smoking room option.
[The dementia scenario and criminal cases, though typical, are fabricated and not based on any particular individuals I know.]
27/08/11booby prize
Isn't
this a form of self-harm? BeShine is a German 'model', and when
she refers to herself as a 'model', I'm guessing there's only one
category of modelling she does, which most probably doesn't involve
cat-walks and photo-shoots for Vogue or Givenchy. I'm guessing that because, well look, BeShine has surgically enhanced breasts. She's been surgically enhanced right up to a size 166XXX, and according to the article by Ashley Van Sipma in Closer magazine, she intends to have silicone injected to take her to size Z, could anyone tell the difference?
BeShine doesn't reveal her real name or the name of the surgeon who keeps agreeing to perform the ops. The surgeon should have his/her medical credentials closely scrutinised then removed.
BeShine started as a 32A, now she's got 5st of fat hanging off her tiny ribcage, straining her spine and stretching her skin.
The T shirt proclaims 'I ♥ boobs', I can't imagine how anyone could ♥ that much boob, but as usual there's always someone out there doing even the most unbelievable stuff, and there are men (just men? I'm guessing, could be wrong) in this world who get their kicks and part with money to look at boobs this outlandishly, deforming and uncomfortably large. She claims to have 1000 paying fans at her website, and erm, I won't be providing a link.
It's not right I tell you, not right at all. Seems similar to the feeders and their big fat obese victims.
Way I see it, these women are being controlled in a twisted complicated way involving attention and money from men, silly women.
The booby prize, definitely well deserved, goes to BeShite, sorry typo, BeShine, round of applause please for the lady. Not you BeShine, you can't get the palms of your hands to meet anyway.
25/08/11Herring and Amy
The
cause of the night out was a man in his 40s who seems utterly incapable of
getting back on the TV and has the name of a fish. That be right,
The Husband and I went to see Richard Herrings' 2011 show, What Is Love,
Anyway?On at The Cow Barn in Bistro Square, Edinburgh at 9.50pm till the 28th August. Just a couple opportunities left at the Edinburgh Festival. As is his usual, Richard is working very hard, with two shows most days, his Love evening show and an afternoon chat/interview show. Same with the podcasts, two a day, a podcast of the afternoon show, I've listened to one so far, and a short 'warming up' which I haven't had a chance to listen to yet. All the info and the links are on Mr Herring's website.
Both The Husband and I had a good time and found much humour, warmth and joy in What Is Love, Anyway? The stuff bout his Granny, though I'd heard him tell the basics in casual chat with Andrew Collins on their Collings And Herrin podcasts, was expertly honed and delivered. And the stuff bout dating Julia Sawalha was satisfactorily interesting and funny.
I have to tell you too, when deciding, to do or not to do, the Sirloin Seat option at £5 a seat extra, do it! Worth it for the looks on the people's faces at the front of the queue that have stood in the rain for about half an hour. With a matter of minutes to curtain up, just walk up to the front and you Sirloin Seat ticket holders will be shown to your seats by a member of staff, the best seats in the room, AND you get a cushion for under your bum
The drugs didn't do it. Toxicology results indicate no illegal substances in Amy Winehouse at the time of her death, 23rd July.
Two thoughts, one, alcohol is legal and two, chronic long-term substance abuse damage. The report states alcohol was present, but at this time is unable to say what, if any, part alcohol played in her death.
And three, when I think about it, eating disorder? Her poor ravaged underweight body looked so frail, surely incapable of copiing with even a bout of Flu.
Remind yourself how healthy and beautiful this woman used to be. The first image was how she looked in 2004. She was gorgeous with everything to live for, the shocking deterioration in the following 7 substance-abusing, body-wrecking, skin-scribbling, man-disaster years is just horrendous and should never be romanticised. This wonderful, talented, lovely, healthy, gorgeous woman with the voice of the decade and a song writing skill to match, had no self-love but a massive self-destruct switch she clicked a while ago. A spiral of substance-abuse and depression is what I see. If she disliked anything about her body shape and looks at the start of her 20s, how was she coping with what the mirror was showing her in her last couple years? As a fan of both Amy and Pete Doherty, I always wondered which one would leave first.
Amy's father intends to set up a rehab (no, no, no) charity foundation in his daughters' name to help drug addicts, which is a bit of a waste of money probably, but the names he intended using have all been registered.
Websites along the lines of AmyWinehouseFoundation.co.uk, AmyWinehouseFoundation.org, have been snaffled. I hadn't thought of how some sick individual/s would race to register domain names following her death and her father making his intentions public. There's business and there's ugly uncaring nasty sociopathic tendencies .
17/08/11woulda, shoulda, coulda, but didn't, Jar Of Hearts, Everest and Festival News
As
I mentioned yesterday I complained to Sainsbury's about a missing item
and getting last week's magazines. Complaint responded to, and as
expected, apologies and a £3.51 discount voucher. The email said
they would speak to my branch staff about the magazine date issue to
ensure I never receive last weeks issues again. They should really
credit my account, rather than give me a refund I can spend at
Sainsbury's, it's my money, but, I'm being pernickety, and I had summit
much bigger on the cards, the JJB Aguero shirt incident.I was going to send letters, real ones, with envelopes and stamps, involving the Post Office. I was determined heads should roll, it's a swizzz. But The Boy insisted I drop it. What a sorry state of affairs.
I'm listening to Lovestrong, the Christina Perri CD. In the Z4 the other day the radio was on and that's how I came to hear Jar Of Hearts, a single from this album. The raw emotion of this girls voice, the lyrics...there was a tear.
I purchased the CD, she's very good. I'll try to not cry when I listen, she's a wee bit too Emo for me to deal with comfortably, or...nonchalantly.
This evening I watched BBC2 at 9pm, The Wildest Dream : Conquest Of Everest. Here's the history...in 1924, the third Everest expedition broke the previous ascent record, reaching 28,000 feet (8,534 meters); on June 4, 1924, Mallory and his young climbing partner, Andrew “Sandy” Irvine, set out to break that record and make a dash for the summit. Fellow-climber Noel Odell claims to have seen them at a point about 800 feet (240 meters) from the top, at about 12:50 p.m. The clouds rolled in, and Mallory and Irvine were never seen alive again.
Seventy-five years later, in 1999, Mallory’s body was found by Conrad Anker, almost by accident. Clues found on his body gave searchers some understanding of what might have happened, but the elusive mystery of “did he make it” endures. The Wildest Dream: Conquest of Everest attempts both to solve the mystery and to give those of us enthralled by it a better understanding of what might have happened, as well as a deeper appreciation of Mallory, the man.
Conrad Anker and Leo Houlding on Everest. Was very good, and Leo is my new, or probably more accurately, my first, my only, Extreme Sports Hero. After watching him climb to the top of the mountain quicker than Jeremy could drive there, on Top Gear, I was impressed, then he threw himself off the same mountain in a double or quits bet with the great Clarkson. That was it for me, signed, sealed, delivered, he's my Extreme Sports Hero.
I just got tickets to a show. The Husband, who returns from Europe tomorrow, doesn't know it yet, but we've got a date and he's taking me out Friday night.
16/08/11aiming for complaint restraint
Complaint # 1 : Sainsbury's brought my online shop direct to The Starry Towers kitchen. Couple of middle-aged gentlemen, very polite and efficient. Delivery Man A was telling me he was being trained, this was his first day and he'd already put his back out with the lifting. He had an Eastern European accent, which goes against the widely held racist generalisation that all Eastern Europeans are hard working and non-complaining. Delivery Man B didn't complain, Scottish, he hadn't put his back out, maybe cos he'd made the trainee do most of the work.
Anyway, once they left I checked my shopping against the receipt. I recommend you all do that, always. There was an item missing, a pack of gum worth 46 of my Scottish pennies. That wasn't so very annoying, I was even prepared to let that go. Yes I know, not like me at all. But then the decision was taken, nay, ripped, out of my hands a minute later.
The magazines! Closer and HEAT come out on a Tuesday. I had deliberately arranged my Sainsbury's shop to drop on Tuesday. When I shopped online and put the magazines in the virtual shopping trolley, I was buying the latest issues which would arrive in my local Sainsbury's that morning, maybe even on the previous evening, I don't know how these things go, I can only make intelligent assumptions. They gave me last week's issue. I already have last weeks issues, I bought them from Sainsbury's, last week. I wrote an email. At time of blogging I await a full refund and an apology. If same aren't forthcoming, I will have to never ever online shop at Sainsbury's ever again, even though they do the best 0% fat fromage frais and the lowest carb healthiest cold meats.
Complaint
# 2 : JJB. I am appalled at this situation with football
shirts. The Boy wanted the Manchester City FC home men's long
sleeve shirt with the name and number of recent signing, Sergio Leonel
"Kun" Agüero del Castillo. We went
to JJB online and bought it, just two weeks ago it was. JJB were
selling the shirt with #16 Aguero on the back. The Boy spent 50 to
60 of his Scottish pounds buying this.Yesterday this Agüero fellow played his first game for Man City and his shirt said Kun. Kun Agüero. From what I can make out now I'm investigating, this guy has put Kun on his shirts, for a while anyway, it's a nickname, he seems to like it, it's been on shirts when he played for Athletico Madrid and his national Argentina team. In my opinion the shops shouldn't sell the kit till they know what the kit should say. The football teams should get their acts together to insure they speak to the shops that sell their goods, so that kids, that can't afford to buy two of the same shirt, don't have to buy two!!!!!
OK, now I'm angry, I'm really angry. This is a disgrace.
I was very polite, and so far, it's got me no-where. I emailed JJB, no answer, I phoned JJB customer services, to be told JJB have no obligation to sell the right thing, just a close approximation of summit it might be, they might even get it right sometimes. Absolutely shocking. I even Tweeted Manchester City FC and that Sergio KUN Agüero fellow. I think he must've got his shirts from JJB too, cos they missed the T out.
I'm so annoyed, I think I'll start a campaign, I'm currently working out the campaign strategy, I'll publish as soon as.
Wooppeeee! The Tuesday Club podcast is back from it's Summer hols, link in The Lobby.
15/08/11Schmangle, Requiem For A Dream, Dick and Chapter 27
First I got my Slankets, then I found my Shmangle, a nice blue one. I'm trying to figure out what it means, Sh/mangle, or Sh/man/gle? In the Sl(eeve)(b)anket stylee. Can't even work out where the SH comes from, never mind trying to get my head round the MANGLE bit.
Thing is you see, I've lost my sunbathing-slash-picnic rug, and when I say 'lost' I mean, it's been stollen. The one with the waterproof backing for when the grass is a bit damp. It's now being k
ept
in a vehicle for when The Husband wants to lie on the ground in relation
to mechanics and vehicles. I weren't very happy bout it either.
To make up for this loss I've found this fantastic replacement which is
two things in one. It can be used as a rug with a waterproof
backing for when the grass is damp, AND it can be worn, it's got a hood.
The Shmangle Festival Blanket is a large, lightweight, multi-purpose,
hooded blanket with a waterproof outer layer and a cosy fleece lining
that packs away into a small drawstring bag. The multi-use
Shmangle can be worn or used as a groundsheet for sitting on damp grass.
You can shelter under it from the rain, wear to keep warm around a camp
fire or use it at night as an extra cover over a sleeping bag.
That won't be happening. It can be easily folded away into its
drawstring bag and carried like a small backpack or just slung over your
shoulder. It measures 140cm x 170cm and packs down to 38cm x 25cm x 15cm in the bag. Weights 900g and is available in a choice of four outer colours. The inner side is multi-coloured striped fleece. A major plus point is it's machine washable.
I got mine from FunkyLeisure.co.uk.
I tried to watch Requiem For A Dream, the junky movie of the Hubert Selby Jr novel. OMG, that was hard work. I gave up after about 20mins I'm guessing. I know I read the book a couple decades ago, but the film, too druggy, nothing happening, not for the first 20 mins anyway. Too depressing. Even though there was Jared Leto.
So I watched Dick instead. A Kirsten Dunst and Michelle Williams comedy parodying Richard Nixon's Watergate. That was OK, there was a bit of Will Ferrell, but still.
A bit like watching Titanic, (I'm assuming, though I've never watched Titanic), I knew the ending of this movie before I started watching, but Chapter 27 was OK, and for a Jared Leto movie, a lot easier to watch than Requiem For A Dream. There was a bit of Lindsay Lohan too, I'm not saying that's a good thing, just stating a fact.
14/08/11Slankets, Youth In Revolt and Roger Dodger
Saving
the planet one swag at a time, on
The Star Swag
Blog.At last I have Slankets.
I've liked the sound of a Slanket since first I heard of them. A cosy warm blanket, with sleeves, ideal for times you just want to wrap up and get cosy on the sofa. I opted for this animal print trio, the zebra, the leopard and, well, erm, obviously the other one has to be the black panther.
I don't wear them the way they advertise that they should be worn. In all the demo pics they show the Slanket being put on front-ways. I wear it back-ways, so my bum gets cosy covered too.
Many options in colour, kids and adult size, travel size, double size, it's all there. Some of them, including these three are a bargain half price, at £14.99 each at FindMeAGift.com. Orders over £30 are free delivery, and until Wednesday 17th
August,
enter SUMMER10 at the
checkout for a 10% discount. My Slankets arrived with a special
offer of a 10% discount off my next order. I don't think I need
any more Slankets, but I might have to find someone-else a gift.And here's a lovely poppy from The Starry Towers Estate, just one, and there's been many of them over this Summer. I'll be gathering and spreading the seeds in a wee while.
On my own I hooked up with a couple of geek movies no-one else wants to watch with me. First I watched Youth In Revolt. It's very funny, even on my own I did that laugh out loud thing a lot. Michael Cera is as usual a fabulous geek with perfect comic timing, or whatever it is that great comedy actors do. In his rebellious alter-ego mode he's cool, smooth. He's a wee sweetheart. The story is outrageous but strangely believable. Also there's Ray Liotta and Steve Buscemi.
Next up was Roger Dodger with that other fabulous geek actor, Jesse Eisenberg. This is a cutting painful tale of one man's battle on the single's scene. It's apparently in the 'humour' section, but I didn't find it funny, it's a good movie, I enjoyed. But I found it sad, poignant and emotional. And there was Isabella Rossellini, have always adored this woman.
11/08/11staying in Scotland
The Sister-In-Law was living back in Germany for a wee while there, with the idea that The Brother would be selling up here and moving over to join her at a later time. I wanted them to stay in Scotland. Anyways, their plans have all changed and she's coming back. Yeaaaahhhhh! That's good. And she got her old teaching job back, must be a great teacher everyone loves. I reminded her she'll have to return her farewell gifts, a bottle of good whiskey and a sizable sum of leaving-cash.
The Husband is back from The Land Of Gas and Gravlaks, commuting back and forth on a weekly basis. I think he's got cars on his mind, we could be test driving.
Meanwhile here's something we didn't expect...Breaking News! Riots Hit Scotland!
10/08/11annoying things of the day, Star's Prawn Cocktail and Planet Of The Apes
There's some improvement on the anti-Scotchland front, the BBC News service has stopped referring to the 'UK Riots' and changed the tagline to 'England Riots', at last.
CNN and SKY News are still calling it UK.
How much would you have to like Haribo to loot them out of Poundland? You'd have to be really exceptionally chavy to do this.
I'd have made off with the M & Ms.
Some days it's the big things, and some, it's the little things that are most annoying. Every time I hear the voice-over at the start of the Nanny 911 show, 'we gathered a team of world-class nannies from all over the globe...' No you haven't, you've got 4 or 5 (Nanny Debs and Nanny Stella spring to mind), and they all sound English.
I made some home made healthy prawn cocktail today. It's very easy, and it would have to be, I'm no cook.
some cooked and peeled prawns
some big dollops of 0% fat Fromage Frais
a squeeze of tomato puree
some Splenda
a wee press on the electronic pepper grinder
and a sprinkle of any other herbs and spices you fancy
1 put all ingredients in a bowl, a dish, any appropriate receptacle
2 mix it all up, with a spoon, a fork, any appropriate tool
3 eat
Nancy
Sinatra follows me, yes, that Nancy Sinatra, the one who sang These
Boots Are Made For Walking, Frank's daughter. That's her avatar
with the long blond hair.I know how this one happened. A while ago I followed her, then she followed me back, then a while later I unfollowed her, but cos she's in the thousands, she hasn't noticed.
Right that one's a little surprising, but the BIG surprising one is The Daily Record. Yeah, the national newspaper The Daily Record. Why The Daily Record is following me we'll never know. Do I know someone who works for the Daily Record? I don't think so. I'm not the font of all Scottish breaking news, so I can't figure why The Daily Record is following me. That rampant lion is their avatar. It's very strange.
On a podcast front, the football season is upon us, and hence the return of some of my favourite podcasts, the ones that act like school teachers and football players and insist on extended Summer holidays. So that's The Heart And Hand (Glasgow Rangers), The Footballistically Arsenal (obvious) and The Whistleblowers (all football), all back, I'm happy. Though there's one huge noticeable by their absence gap on my iPod, The Tuesday Club, Alan Davies Arsenal pod, where are they? What's keeping them? All links in The Lobby.
Huge reduction in England's rioting tonight, is it raining? Maybe they're just tired, can manage 3 in a row, but not much more than that, kinda like the NHS long 13hr shifts that I do.
Sick to the back teeth of the ugly images of lawlessness on the streets of England, I settled down for a Planet Of The Apes night here at Starry Towers. I watched Planet Of The Apes, the 1968 and the 2001 versions. I'm preparing for the 2011 version. I enjoyed my evening on monkey watch duty. And can I just say...damn you, damn you all to Hell! (from the 1968) and I'm not finished, I'd also like to say...damn them, damn them all to Hell! (the 2001). I'll be on damn-to-Hell watch duty on the 2011, they've got to include a version it somewhere, out of respect.
09/08/11thugs and thieves in Engerland
How crap is it when you have to return early from holiday because of your job? I'm sorry, I'd totally refuse. But, I s'pose, my job doesn't involve the same gravitas of a government post. This situation is a bit more serious, given that it involves a country out of control, that country being England.
However consistent the efforts of the BBC and SKY TV, this is not a 'UK RIOTS' situation. It's an ENGLAND RIOT situation.
Anyone in Wales rioting? One 16 year old in Scotland mentions the idea on The Facebook, gets arrested and charged with trying to incite public disorder. It's horrible, but it's all going down, down there, in Engerland.
I'm on high alert up here, and can vouch, I'm keeping an eye on the streets. All I saw on the streets today was the usual through traffic in Sunny D, and also on my daily Radical Hysterectomy Post-Op Recovery Walk...I got talking to a woman about a bush.
I'm telling you, Scotland really can't be arsed. It's also true that we don't have that same level of racial inner city disquiet that English cities do. We don't have the numbers. Hell, one 16 year old boy on The Facebook says, hey lets start a riot in Glasgow, and people report him to the police. He's been charged, and that's that as far as we're concerned. We won't be doing the riots of August 2011.
This rioting situation down there is absolutely terrible. So many sickening scenes. One of the most telling, one of the saddest tales and somehow, most personal, is of a young disorientated, concussed, injured boy, according to The Twitter this young man is called Ashraf Haziq. In hospital tonight with a broken jaw.
His spilled blood on the pavement. A man comes to his assistance, and I swear, if I could've been there with a taser. They're cruel, displaying horrific disrespect, lack of empathy and sociopathic tendencies. What begins as hopeful, it initially looks like they're going to his assistance...quickly and sickeningly dissolves into a cruel pack of psychos. Like cowardly hyenas.
I can hardly believe how bad these people are, how immune to humanity, how pathetic. I have dreams of human evolution, and it doesn't involve these idiots.
Come on England, restore your law and order.
08/08/11Happy Birthday The Mum and London's burning
There's
a bag or two on
The Star Swag Blog, we can't let a little argument
in London get in the way of my swagging. Unlike some I'll exchange
some of my Scottish pounds forAnd erm, let them eat cake.Happy Birthday to The Mum. Much to the annoyance of The Mum, it's that day of the year again. I'm getting to the age I understand what she's feeling bout this birthday/ageing thing.
Am I happy I don't live in London. It's frightening what's happening in certain areas of the capital city. These crazy mindless criminal thugs. Jail the lot of them ASAP.
Wouldn't you be dragging your teenager off the street right now? So how come there's so many of them robbing shops and setting fire to buildings?
My teenager, The Boy, was rummaging around in the bottom drawer of the freezer, looting himself a Flake Ice Cream Cone, as I'm glued to SKY News. I commented on the shocking situation in London, he says, 'I support the rioters'. I retort, 'but they're a bunch of thugs'. He shoots back, 'you'd be the same if your drug dealer got shot'. The humour is already out there, as usual.
I texted The Husband's Cousin's wife, Margaret, as they live in Greenwich. Worried that they might be having to live the sharp edge of this London riot nonsense. Margaret texts back...we're in the Alps. Panic over.
I think they should bring in the army, shut it down ASAP.
The police and fire brigade can't hope to control this situation. It's not just London either, Liverpool, Birmingham, Bristol, where else I do not know. Everyone just go home. Bunch of onlookers standing around taking photies and videos on their phones.
This will not spread to Scotland, we just can't be arsed with this kinda shinanagans.
Anyways, here's a nice picture of a bee on a Globe Thistle from The Starry Towers estate.
I couldn't live in any place where 99% of my neighbours were rappers and gangstas innit.
07/08/11GP, The Bro and The Sis In Law and fingers crossed for the Buddleia cuttings
On
The Star Swag
Blog you'll find the result of my second trip to Uniqlo.I went to see a GP on Friday there (5th August) and luck of the draw gave me a guy doc. I wasn't impressed. But no big deal, I'll be back to the surgery in 4 weeks, to see a female GP.
Tomorrow is my 6 weeks post-radical-hysterectomy. I'm not even allowed to hoover for 6 more weeks, ie...it's 12 weeks post-op till I can hoover a carpet. I'm still wearing the anti-embolism stockings as per my Consultants instructions.
They ain't pretty, they aint even comfortable, BUT, they are necessary. I'm going to stop wearing them tomorrow, but I'll be keeping them for future flights.
The Husband and I went a-visiting this weekend. We were invited to a BBQ at The Brother and Sis-In-Law's place. We had a lovely day. Unfortunately it started to rain, so the food got taken in to the kitchen and finished in the oven. We were sitting outside under a very impressive awning, then went indoors for a few hours of cosy living room time. We giggled, a lot.
This morning, before The Husband had to fly back to Norway I took him on a little walk around what's recently become my usual circuit of Sunny D. I had a hidden agenda this time, and I got what I was after. You see...I have a purple Buddleia, and I'm fancying the lilac colour to match. So, along the street there I took 4 cuttings and back at Starry Towers I stuck them in the garden, fingers crossed an all.
04/08/11I'm so healthy, oh so healthy and missing Amy
Let's get the self-congrats out the way. Today marks the 6 week anniversary of my Ciggie Quitting, congratuwelldone to me. Seriously, that's it, I'm a non-smoker.
Still seriously into my health kick, what with the fag-stopping and the Dukan Diet, I've found a route around Sunny D that takes exactly 20 minutes at a brisk pace.
You go down to the east end of Main Street, turn left, round the cul de sac, retrace your steps back along Main Street, till you reach and slip into the crescent. Round the crescent and take the back road, follow to the western end of the village. Back onto Main Street and walk back down to Starry Towers, 20 minutes, exactly. Excellent.
I'm getting much more oh so healthy, and yet still in the early stages of radical Hysterectomy surgery recovery, my tummy hurts to the touch. Even when walking, sometimes it hurts with each step, especially so when stepping down stairs for some reason. And there's the more intense throbbing stabbing pains that occur sometimes just out of the blue. GP visit tomorrow for another sick line.
My mobile phone ringtone has been Amy Winehouse singing Rehab for years now, well, since 2006 when it was released. Every time the mobile rings I hear her most famous song. Reminds me she's gone and how much I'll miss all the music she could've but won't make now.
03/08/11LearnPro OCD, talking to the printer, it's a snip and Sooty
Who says I've got too much time on my hands? Yeah, you're probably right.
I've
been to LearnPro, the NHS eLearning website. Two reasons, an email
informed me my last years online educational input was out of date
requiring the annual effort, and...I've got a lot of time on my hands.
Over the last two days...I've done LearnPro in extremis. I
searched for every possible appropriate module, and even winged it on
the Blood Transfusion Module 1 'Safe Transfusion Practice'. I will
never transfuse anyone (remember I'm a nurse of the Mental Health
persuasion...NHS I beg of you, do not trust us with blood transfusion),
but probably good if I know if some nurse is ever transfusing me badly.
I LearnPro'd so much, when I get round to printing the evidence, I'm expecting the certificate to run to 3 pages...maybe 4, could it even stretch to 5?
Oh wait a minute, The Husband tells me he recently made my laptop talk to the printer in the study, lets test this out...
...he's right, my laptop does talk to the printer now, which is very good. I gave it a try and initially nothing happened, but after changing three of the five ink cartridges, t'was all systems go. I'm well impressed.
Disappointed my certificate is only 3 pages long however, hmmm, maybe I'll need to search for more than the 30 courses, comprised of 67 individual assessments, that I've completed so far. Hell yeah! OCD collector completist issues been indulged yet again.
Talking about OCD, sometimes it's not a good thing. Shamefaced I have to admit, it caused me to do summit silly today. I was trimming the lawn edges at Starry Towers, on my knees, with scissors, and...innocent whistling and rolling of eyes...I cut through my earphone cable. I was engrossed in my task, and the listening of Richard Bacon's 5Live podcast, the one with Sally Morgan guesting and talking shite, as them 'medium' people do, and, rats!
Over to Amazon for more Sennheisers. The CX 400 II Precision Noise Isolating Ear-canal Phones with Integrated Volume Control are my earphones of choice, bargain price on Amazon, RRP £59.99, only £18.49 plus free delivery from Prime Electronics.
On
Twitter I learned that Sooty has physically assaulted the millionaire
Paul Daniels (thank you Mrs Merton, comedy gold) by smacking him with a
pizza. The magician was taken to a hospital A&E department and
treated for suspected head injuries and a black eye.Sooty apologised.
02/08/11Dukan News, poker hair, Easy A and Dogma
Over
on The Star
Swag Blog there's some luverly stuff. I feel the
weight coming off I need to go shopping, end of.Another lb down this morning, that's 4lbs in less than a week, and I ain't been hungry once. Dr Dukan seems to have got his science right.
Yesterday I ate so much ham, chicken, quark and virtually fat free fromage frais and a couple of eggs, quite frankly I didn't feel much like eating after all that.
Food Of The Week is Muller Light Yoghurt. Tastes so good it satisfies the sweet cravings. When I want chocolate or cake I eat Muller Light. The Dukan allows only the vanilla and the toffee as there's no fruit in them.
I did 25 minutes of brisk walking today, before midday. Yes, I know, I'm astounding myself the amount of healthy type stuff I'm doing these days, must be my age.
Product Of The Week here at Starry Towers is Lee Stafford Poker Straight Dehumidifier Spray. It works a treat, does what it says on the tin and all that. Comes in 200mls for the dressing table and 50mls for travelling.
The full range of Lee Stafford products are available at Boots.
On my own I watched Easy A this evening, was good enough.
Resulted in me buying Joan Jett and the Blackhearts Greatest Hits on mp3 download from Amazon. Was the song Bad Reputation, performed by The Dollyrots in the movie, but originally by Joan and her Jetts.
Is it just me, or does Emma Stone look a lot like Lindsay Lohan before Ms Lohan got wasted? In fact, I'd go as far as to say, Lohan was the better looking of the two.
In honour of Kevin Smith's 41st birthday, today, I watched my favourite Kevin Smith movie, Dogma. Ahhh, Affleck and Damon, my favourite movie with them in too, yummy, both of them.
I'm hoping one day soon we KS fans here in Scotland will be able to watch his most recent movie, Red State. It's taking it's sweet time coming to these shores. Yawn.
31/07/11Invalid News, terrible teeth, ex-Stig, fan & grinder, One False Move, Bad Education and And Soon The Darkness (2010)
Invalid News : feels like not much is happening at present, but as part of my short series of occasional infomercials on the after-effects of a total hysterectomy and salpingo-oophorectomy, I feel it's absolutely necessary that I issue an update. It's been a while since the last.
I'm up to 5 weeks of rest-n-recuperation following, least you forget, my radical hysterectomy. That's major-abdominal-surgery in anyone's book. Five weeks tomorrow. I have a GP appointment booked to go get the next sick line. A hospital doctor wrote the first sick line, for 6 weeks. That was a good thing, gave me one less thing to worry about at the time.
I don't know how it is for all and/or other woman, but for me, when I woke up after the op, my world was already turned upside down.
I got through the first 48 hours, under the influence of some drugs, I can't deny. Nurses were asking me to judge my pain level on a scale of 0 to 10, so they could fill in a SEWS chart. I was giving them a number but explaining that, surprisingly, the most troubling of my pains wasn't in my abdomen, it was in my back. Then I recalled, they took me down from the ward to the theatre in my bed, but just prior to going in to the anaesthetist, in the corridor, they slid me over onto a trolley. The middle section of this trolley was raised, quite severely, I remember saying in surprise at the discomfort in my spine...oh no, this is going to hurt me back. Lying on that for at least an hour is going to feck your back up, but as long as the surgeon finds it easier to operate on your abdomen when it's pushed up in his face, that's ok then.
Now, 5 weeks on, the back pain has settled, and lots of other things have changed. I've previously talked of constipation, pain and bleeding. Crying got a brief mention, along with bruising and fatigue. I'm considering putting up a photograph of the bruising, I think the pics were taken maybe 5 days post-op. The bruising was horrendous, but the photies aren't exactly flattering.
The Not To Do List becomes a more serious problem as time goes on because advice says don't, but you start to feel like you can, but you still shouldn't. The other thing is the tummy thing. They took stuff away so I was expecting if anything, a little dip rather than a massive lump, but what I got was the massive lump. There's swelling and it's hard swelling, with this strange unnatural sensation about it. This is finally easing, getting smaller and softer, but still sticky out.
The bleeding seems to have really totally stopped, a few days ago.
Constipation is still a big issue, but this is complicated by the Dukan. I just purchased Dr D's oat bran and his Digestive Aid Fruit Squares...rich in fruit fibre and full of the aperient goodness of figs, tamarind and dates. I will report how that works out. I'm still finding it impossible to push. I can't push bowel or bladder wise, hurts too much. I have to try to relax to allow things to fall out, let gravity do it's best, which quite frankly, isn't good enough. Too much information? Sorreeee!
With all this ample me-time, I'm doing a daily walk and I've just started giving the Dukan Diet a go, and can I just say, I now crave and I'm lovin' virtually fat free vanilla flavoured Muller Light yoghurt. On the Dukan, yoghurt starts to feel like your spoiling yourself, it's a treat. I'll tell more of my Dukan experience once I reach impressive weight-loss, which I fully expect will happen, and soon, 3lbs so far.
The other day on the Jeremy Kyle Show there was a really distressing, mind-blowing, almost unbelievable sight. Really? In this day and age?
These are the teeth of child neglect. His mother should be jailed. It shouldn't be possible that a child can grow up in the UK and enter adulthood with teeth like these. Surely to goodness there was something dentists could do about this, when he was young, experts should have intervened and changed this young man's life choices. Cos with teeth like these there can't be many options.
Seems this was a repeat episode from Oct 2010, but I can't get over the disgrace of these joke teeth.
I watched Top Gear in the last week too and was relieved to hear Mr Clarkson introduce the next segment as starring...ex-Stig, the old splitter and romantic novelist...Ben Collins.
The Husband and I were in Morrisons the other day. Two best buys to report. The Halco Air Cooler Mini Fan, batteries included, only £2, was The Husband's £2 too, so a real bargain.
Available in a choice of 4 colours, I got the blue, and it works really well. Then, I was after an electronic pepper grinder mill because the non-electronic grinder we have is doing my head in. It's not the grinding, that's easy. It's cos our main pepper grinder has a tight fitting lid, and I struggle to open the lid to sprinkle the pepper. So. Made my way over to the kitchen bits department, and there it was. A chrome/silver metal & clear perspex Cole & Mason electronic pepper grinder. It was on it's on, it didn't have a price label. I took it to the tills. The Morrisons till lady asked me if I'd noticed the price. I told her honestly that there hadn't been one that I could see. She proved to have little tolerance for sussing out prices, seconds later she put it through for one of my Scottish pounds. Thank you Morrisons till lady.
The Husband and I watched One False Move, which held up well considering it's age. Made in 1992 starring Billy Bob, he plays an evil bastard most times, great actor.
We watched Bad Education the next evening. This is the latest in our endeavour to watch all the films of the wonderful Spanish writer/director Pedro Almodóvar. This is another of his masterpieces, though The Husband wasn't totally won over, which I reckon could possibly be because of the major gay element. It's all Catholic priest choir boy sexual abuse, transgender and gayness.
The Husband went back to The Land We Call Norway and The Boy and I watched And Soon The Darkness, the 2010 American remake of the 70's British original. Though there was some OTT smuck acting at times, for what it was, it was a good version of it's genre. Had both of us on tenterhooks a few times.
25/07/11Happy Birthday to The Boy, Religious Zealot News, Gloagburn and The American
Stargazer
products on The
Star Swag Blog.The Boy is 18 today. I find it almost impossible to tolerate the notion that the last 18 years of my life have passed so very quickly. And tall, he's very tall, I find it incomprehensible that I could possibly give life to such a tall creature.
The Boy spent the weekend in tents on the shores of a loch, with friends and fishing rods. He's been Moonpigged in the card department, chocolate caked and Thorntons provided a large box of choccies. He's now an iPad owner and has a bunch of money he intends to use some of to purchase an Xbox. He's at a friend's house tonight as they're leaving early to attend a footie friendly in Blackpool tomorrow. That boy has a far better social life than I.
Today The Husband returned to work and a very sombre office in Stavanger, Norway. An entire nation is mourning. We here at Starry Towers and extended family are thinking of the suffering and loss of Norway.
Religious Zealot News : Norwegian Christian Fundamentalist terrorist Anders Behring Breivik is charged with 76 murders. He placed a bomb, then personally put a bullet in as many people as possible. The majority of the people he killed were young, teenagers, unnarmed and innocent. He is a pathetic coward who requires weapons and kills children. Same as all terrorists.
Many men who do this type of mass murder tend to commit suicide at the end, hence evading capture and punishment. This man didn't, indicating an obvious self love, grandiose delusional ideology and I'm guessing he's looking forward to his future in jail or psychiatric institution, the attention and, in his way of it, progressing his cause.
Obviously this man is ill, he's sick. In his twisted psychotic mind this is the way to save Europe from a Muslim takeover. I understand this man is mentally ill and personality disordered in the extreme. Fact that he's religious is hardly surprising given that he's psychotic, one has to be delusional to be religious, goes without saying, even though I just said it.
Under the pseudonum of Andrew Berwick, this guy wrote a 1516-page manifesto he titled "2083 - A European Declaration of Independence". Phew! 1516 pages...mad. It's obviously way easier to read other people's thoughts on this than to actually read it for yourself. I certainly don't have the time or inclination, but if you have precious little else to do, I'm passing it on. I may have the inclination to dip into it at a later time, out of a professional interest in mental illness and the physiology of the human brain, my own Atheism and dislike and utter frustration at religion and what people will do in it's name.
In
comparison, there's Amy, a single self-induced addiction/substance abuse
death-wish. So troubled, and damaged, but self-damaged. The
tattoos, OMG the tattoos, a cry for help early on. Who scribbles
such ugly graphics, so permanently, so deforming, on their skin if they
have a vision of living till age 60, 70 or 80. Only a young woman
who can't envisage or imagine old age, even middle age, would have such
horribly defacing ugly ink. She had the tattoos of a lost soul you
would normally see on a psychiatric ward.This death was expected, but sad and painful to watch nonetheless. Oh Amy, Amy, Amy. Russell Brand said it best on his blog.
The Husband and I were out for a drive up north over the weekend and chanced upon The Gloagburn Farm Coffee House near Tibbermore in Perthshire, for lunch. Very nice. We both opted for The Gloagburn Farmhouse Seasonal Salad of chicken, egg and a mixed salad dressed with Summer Harvest Dressing and bread and butter. I asked for my dressing to be on the side, and this was provided with no fuss, in a tiny little jug, cute. Now I wish I'd nicked the jug.
On the way into The Gloagburn Coffee Shop I stopped to buy some iron garden ornaments. By the time I'd picked and purchased my little iron chicks and a second set for The Mum, The Husband was disappeared. I had a little wander around, no sign of him, he had to be out in the conservatory restaurant area already. A waitress enquired, 'can I help?', I told her I'd lost The Husband. She took me through to the conservatory area and indicating over there, asked, 'is that him?' Yes it was. I was wondering, is it that obvious? Do I look like I'm married to The Husband, have we started to look like each other? Turns out 3 different members of the waiting staff had approached The Husband to ask if he was ready to order, and he'd told them he was waiting cos he'd lost The Wife. We don't look like each other yet, but we do behave similarly.
The Husband and I watched The American. Always a pleasure to look at Mr Clooney, and we were vaguely aware of what it was all about, but really...hmmm, bit going no place. Loads of bits that didn't add up.
23/07/11Amy Winehouse
RIP Amy. 14/09/1983 - 23/07/2011.
22/07/11Norway
The Husband just returned from there this evening, he was lucky enough to have been in Stavanger, he'd caught his flight and been on his way home before he became aware of the developing situation in Oslo. He has many friends and work colleagues in Norway, and we're both so very sad at today's terrible string of events.
21/07/114 weeks of nicotine-free and Best Friend visit
Nails
rock on The
Star Swag Blog.Congratuwelldone to me, today is 4 weeks of No Smoking.
The Best Friend visited today, a catch up and lunch on Patio 2. Lunch was Melba Toast and Extra Light Philadelphia Cheese BECAUSE...not smoking plus a radical hysterectomy equals hey fatty-tum-tum.
This evening I purchased The Dukan Diet for my Kindle. Watch this ever-decreasing space...I hope.
The Best Friend went away intending to purchase an E-Ciggie and a Kindle.
20/07/11jeeez Louise and cats
There's
a trip to Uniqlo on
The Star Swag Blog.Ohhh, it's the scandal that just keeps on scandalising. Yesterday Louise Mench MP accused Piers Morgan of bragging that he hacked mobile phones in his book. I've seen the paragraph from his book, she's misinformed, and just plain wrong.
Piers wants an apology, Ms Mench is claiming parliamentary privilege and seems right hacked off at Mr Morgan, yet she created the situation. They had it out last night on CNN's The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer, round one. She is so smug and self-assured, though appears to be totally in the wrong, I don't get it. Maybe this is why she's an MP.
Cats are troubling my feathery friends and I'm none too happy bout the situation. Bad enough they shit in The Starry Towers gardens, but their biggest crime is attempted murder. I'll do anything possible to save my little bit of nature.
A lot of my time, effort, and money goes into feeding the birds. I encourage them in, while they're in my garden they're my responsibility, and I won't allow them darn cats to kill them for fun.
Previously, all I had to worry about was a middle aged black cat which would amble through the garden infrequently, it still shows up, here and there. To add to my list of feline foes, just this last week a new youngster Siamese has been playing out back. Damn and blast. This fresh faced frisky Whiskas eater is fast, but happily, it's none to wise, too young, too stupid.
I've tried the pepper stuff, and it works, till rain washes it away. But I have a new way of deterring the little shits, last few days I've been pointing water at them, and they don't like it. I've got the garden hose sitting on the outside kitchen windowsill, at hand for any cat sightings. Hopefully by the time I've got a good shot at both of them, they won't come back.
19/07/11anarchists are so annoying, Sheridans are too and The Bro at Knockhill
Nicely done Johnnie Marbles...anarchist, comedian (allegedly) and idiot...diverting the seriousness of the Culture Media and Sport Select Committee questioning of the Murdoch guys. A shaving foam faux-custard-pie-in-the-face joke, how very funny, not. I remember kids like him when I was at school, showy diversions only serving to delay the rest from achieving their goals.
Mr Marbles' childish prank, did however, unexpectedly reveal just how quick Wendi Murdoch, the younger (third) wife of Rupert Murdoch is with her 'come and have a go if you think you're hard enough' fight reaction.
She leapt up faster than any of the trained security staff in the room, including police officers, and appeared (from what we TV watchers could make out) to deliver a hefty slap at Mr Marbles head.
Not so much in a lady-like pushed beyond endurance type way, more in the grand old aggressive tradition of hot-headed female not adverse to doling out the physicals. Didn't look like a first for her. Was like something off Jeremy Kyle.
What first attracted you to short balding billionaire Rupert Murdoch? Like a cat she was.
On Newsnight this evening Jim Sheridan said, 'I'm not here to defend Tommy Sheridan', but...he so came across like he was.
To be honest I couldn't help but feel sorry for the absent-minded old Octogenarian granddad, but that's just me.
Interesting Tweets...
Describing himself as an activist and comedian, Mr Marbles wrote on Twitter just before the incident:
"It is a far better thing that I do now than I have ever done before #splat."
Tory MP Louise Mensch and member of the Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee stated during the Murdoch session that Piers Morgan admitted in his book that he hacked into mobile phone messages.
Later Piers Morgan denied same on Twitter, click on this tweet pic to see the relevant passage in his book too, he's right, she's wrong.
The Brother,
first time on his new 1000cc, at Knockhill, in the rain, 130 miles an hour,
on one wheel. You can count the amount of times he's been on a
race track on the fingers of one hand.Now, tick the box that applies...
Choice 4 is the right answer and with a little bit practice to make stuff perfect, this pretty much means, and I quote The Husband here, "he could be right up there with the big boys".
18/07/11Knockhill, online video shorts and my Kindle
We had The
Brother over for dinner yesterday and the sun came out just in time for
eating al fresco. And The Boy was even tempted to join us, for Raclette followed by fresh
strawberries and grapes with vanilla ice cream and double cream.I (accidently) caught the moment This Morning started on ITV today. Ruth Langsford and Eamonn Holmes are standing in for the Summer and were in a caravan doing a humerous sketch. It was very funny too. He says to Ruth 'look at this' pointing to the newspaper on his lap. She's stopped doing her Zumba workout and replies, 'I'm not looking at THAT again till I get my deep fat fryer'. You can see the video here.
Spoof movie trailer on YouTube, fantastic casting, Hackgate : The Movie.
The Brother and The Husband were up at Knockhill for the motorbike racing version of a footie kick-about today. Boys and their nice new souped-up toys plus their mutual highly competitive spirits. Both of them on their new race 1000's, The Brother's Kawasaki ZX10 and The Husband's Yamaha R1. Who would triumph in this friendly bit of fun?
Awaiting data-analysis results at time of going to blog.
It's proper name is the Kindle 3G Wireless Reading Device, Free 3G + Wi-Fi, 3G Works Globally, Graphite, 6" Display with New E Ink Pearl Technology. Amongst all the great features, the best has got to be the text to speech, this thing reads to me, like an audio book, but much cheaper, yippeee!
This neat gadget came with it's own needs, the first and most important one being stylish aesthetically pleasing protection. This came in the form of a lovely blue leather protective case.
17/07/11Weather News and The Adjustment Bureau
Weather News : it's been a wonderful week of sun and warm, lots of warm, even hot a few times. Lovely for the recuperating recently radically hysterectomied invalid. Till yesterday that is, yesterday was all thunder, lightening and a down pouring of rain.
The Husband and I watched The Adjustment Bureau. It pains me to report, but report I will...I wasn't too keen, neither was The Husband. It was almost enough to put me right off Matt Damon. I used to think I'd have a Damon OR an Affleck, but increasingly over time, and most definitely after this movie, I'd ONLY have an Affleck. Either Ben or Casey, but mostly Ben.
Back to the movie. Turns out it's not the thriller I was expecting, but a bit of romantic nonsense. The Trilby Gang have an annoying air of what they say goes, end of, no arguments and no point audience members trying to feel involved, they're making it up as they go along. And another thing, the DVD cover isn't true to the movie, he should be jacketless with a hat, and she never wears that dress, shoes or the necklace. AND another thing, Emily Blunt's accent sounds entirely fabricated, Matt Damon looks like a wax work and Terence Stamp's like cardboard.
15/07/11Battle at Kruger, £161m near but yet so far and attention seeking naming
£161m of The Lottery cash goes to Mr & Mrs Weir in Largs, I am so bloody envious.
The Parents have been over the last couple days checking I'm OK and helping out, cos The Husband had to go to The Land Of All Things Norse.
I was telling The Mum about
one of my all time favourite YouTube clips.
Team Buffalo take a bit of time getting organised, springing
into action is not their forte, but when they finally get their shit
together, they rock.So, for The Mum, this is Team Buffalo in The Battle at Kruger.
I'm not a number. Yes you are, you're number 7, Harper Seven Beckham. The pressure on celebs to name their children differently, must be terrible for the poor dears. In this case apparently the little Bs named their sister, making Posh and David a lazy couple of Bs.
Allowing children to name things is ok, I recall The Boy the first time he was encouraged to name a toy, a green mouse from Old Amsterdam. He named it Green. More recently he was privileged in being awarded the honour to name my two big Rowan trees...Zeus and Erik. Allowing children to name pets is a big step, a deep breath, OK we can go with Snowy/Fluffy. Allowing children to name other children...your asking for bother.
Of course, there's way worse than Harper Seven. There's even another Seven, Seven Sirius and his sisters Puma Sabti and Mars Merkaba. Then there's Audio Science Clayton, and little Tu, Tu Morrow, see what they done there?
See the Attention Seeking Strange Names list here.
12/07/11new Douglas Lindsay short, The Pier Tea Room, Podcast & Twitter News, Invalid News, and Run Lola Run
There's
a gorgeous tan tote on
The Star Swag Blog.My favourite author, that lovely man Douglas Lindsay, is releasing a new short story on a daily, episode by episode basis. Government Of The Living Dead is available on his website barney-thomson.com.
Mr Lindsay gives so much for free, go buy his books, Amazon have them all, on paper and for the Kindle, on their Douglas Lindsay page. The Kindle versions are selling for only 86p or one of my Scottish pounds. This can't be right, he's practically giving it away.
Now I'm thinking I need a Kindle, or an eBook reader of some sort, but which one is the best? I foresee a load of research ahead, I predict a reckie.
Yesterday The Husband and I went a little bit North, and a bigger bit West, on one of our fav drives, to Stronachlachar on the banks of Loch Katrine. The Pier Cafe there has a new extension which we found very impressive. The food was great and the staff THE friendliest we've met for a long time. After we'd eaten, and I was loitering on the veranda taking photies, I got chatting to the lady who'd cooked our lunch. She was an older lady, lovely woman, had a cataract op last week, it went well.
I've been eating a lot of melty cheese this last week or so, Brie, Raclette and Gruyere. I've eaten Brie and Cranbury 3 times in 3 different Scottish cafes, this was the best. The Brie toastie at Mona's Of Muckhart was an untoasted sandwich (shhh...I reckon she had a hangover), the Brie toastie at The Glen Cafe was good, BUT, just not as mmm-mmm-mmmelty as the perfection achieved by The Pier Cafe.
Here's The Husband quietly contemplating the life and times of Rob Roy as he gazes at beautiful Loch Katrine from the new extension, splendid, even on a cloudy day.
Podcast
News :
Heart And Hand is back! The first episode of
the new season and you don't have to go to iTunes, find the latest and
all the previous episodes at the Playback Media page.More Podcast News, which is also exciting Twitter News. I tweeted a happy birthday to The Divine Miss Em, and got a reply! Emily Dean, child star (Day Of The Triffids), fashionista, magazine editor type, friend to the stars, co-host of The Frank Skinner Absolute radio show and the podcasts. Again, happily, you don't have to go over to the dark side to listen to The Divine Ms Em, get the podcasts directly from Absolute Radio.
A tad annoying this, but I find my iPod refuses to recognise, and therefore, won't play, Absolute Radio mp3s. So, prior to putting them on the iPod, I have to convert them from mp3 to mp3 using Quick Media Converter from CocoonSoftware.
As part of my short series of occasional infomercials on the after-effects of a total hysterectomy and salpingo-oophorectomy, today I will be discussing bleeding. If you're a bit funny bout this type of thing, look away now.
This post-op bleeding can last up to 6 weeks. I'm in the early days of post-op week 3 and of course, the bleeding is ongoing. I read today that a total hysterectomy plus salpi-ooph is also called a 'radical' hysterectomy. I will be referring to my operation as Radical from now on.
The Husband and I watched the 1989 German movie Run Lola Run. She doesn't half...run. Lola runs and she runs, then she runs a whole load more, quite exhausting watching her. The first two runs work well, by the third, it's getting old.
10/07/11dinner with The Bro, parasol shopping, News Not Of This World, Transsiberian and All About My Mother
There's a new Summer frock on
The Star Swag
Blog, and it's a bargain.The Brother had a day at Starry Towers today, and joined The Husband and I for a trip to B&Q and Dobbies.
A parasol, matching seat cushions and a granite parasol base for the table on Patio 2 were bagged at B&Q. Then on to Dobbies for a few finishing touches for dinner and to show The Brother the balsamic vinegar and olive oil bar. Every time I'm in the Sunny D Dobbies I pretend it's my first time and diligently taste test most of the Balsamic and oil options.
Late afternoon the new Raclette got it's first use out on Patio 2 under the new parasol, and was greatly enjoyed by all, a lovely day.
News
Not Of This World. Goodbye News of the World, though I never knew
you at all. Goodbye to the self proclaimed 'World's Greatest
Newspaper'.Was it? The World's Greatest Newspaper? I seriously doubt it. I s'pose it was the 'World's Greatest Newspaper' that ran from '1843 to 2011', because there isn't another that ran from 1843 to 2011, maybe that's what they mean. I've never bought a News Of The World in my life, till today, I'll put it away to sell on eBay in 20 or 30 years, but 7.5 million people regularly purchased this rag. The public get what the public want, or in this case, what 7.5 million of the public wanted. Sleaze, naming and shaming, phone hacking and alleged payments to police officers.
The Husband and I watched Transsiberian with Woody Harrleson and Ben Kingsley. Was OK. I'm trying these days to take a leaf from Kevin Smith's book and not criticise in my movie reviews. So I'll whisper this bit...it was a little bit boring.
Next up in our movie watching was another from our favourite Spaniard, Almodovar, All About My Mother. Another intricate and interesting emotion full tale of human nature and a bunch of great acting.
08/07/11Invalid News, The Mum's Stewed Fruit, The Glen Cafe and The Tourist
This
picture of me relaxing on the swing seat would have anyone thinking this
hysterectomy business is a walk in the park. This picture is very
misleading. Along with the pain, disability etc etc etc, another
major issue is constipation.A combination of narcotics, three days with no food, reduced physical activity and abdominal surgery had resulted in a bowel that was going nowhere...very very slowly.
When things did eventually move, the result was massive, painful and took forever. Don't tell anyone, but The Husband had to take a stick to it to make it go away. Then it was no go again for more days, I lost track. Anyways, I took to the Lactulose, before The Mum came to the rescue. Now I'm medication free, on the porridge and stewed fruit, and all is well, on a daily basis.
8 medium sized eating apples
3 Conference pears
8 small pieces stem ginger
8 dates
1 cup cold water
2 finely chop the ginger and dates
3 put all the ingredients in the big pan with no lid and bring to the boil
4 turn the heat right down and simmer for 15 mins stirring occasionally
5 leave to cool
Will keep in the fridge for up to one week.
The Husband and I took a drive out to The Borders this afternoon, a favourite route along the A708. Past The Grey Mare's Tail, then stopping at The Glen Cafe on the banks of The Loch o' the Lowes, next door to the much larger St Marys Loch, approx half way between Moffat and Selkirk.
Lunch for me was a Brie and Cranberry toastie with side salad and coleslaw, while The Husband tucked into a large all-day breakfast. With a Coke for him and a diet Coke for me...£12.50, very reasonably priced and a friendly family run business. The Glen Cafe is a popular eatery as it looks out on the water and there's lots of parking available. This road is a favourite with bikers too, so there's usually a few shiny bikes worth looking at in the car park.
The Husband and I watched The Tourist last night. Frothy nonsense with a couple too obvious clues which give the game away really early on, but for all that, it's a fun watch.
The Jolie woman looks more beautiful and healthier than usual. Very Sophia Loren stroke Jessica Rabbit. And there was Johnny Depp with his E-Ciggie, 'smoking' on a non-smoking train carriage and in a Venice restaurant.
Making E-Fags cool.
07/07/11Invalid News, E-Ciggies, Mona's of Muckhart and Talk To Her
Over
on The Star
Swag Blog there's the latest, bangiest on trendiest,
mostest devinest in handbags, the Leather Pouch. Mmmmm.This is, erm, day 10 post-op. I've been reducing the Paracetamol and stopped taking it yesterday evening. Took Tramadol last night in the hope of getting a full nights sleep, but it didn't work, so I won't bother with them again either. It's strange, but today is seems the pain and discomfort is the same without the Paracetamol as with it. I'm managing short walks with The Husband to the Sunny D village shop, and today is the first day that I don't feel over-whelming fatigue. I'm still bleeding slightly and having some horrible sweating. My abdominal wound is healing well and tidy.
Today marks the two week anniversary of me stopping smoking, and not showing off or anything, but nicotine addiction? I'm so over it.
I had four days of nicotine gum then got totally over it, nothing like a little Opium for making a girl forget her Silk Cuts.
What I am doing is all Johnny Depp in The Tourist. I've got a new dummy, a Halo nicotine-free e-ciggie. I've got the white, the silver and the black, for whatever mood takes me.
The Husband and I took a trip in the Z4 today, post Hysterectomy I didn't fancy getting in and out of the Z4 till today. We drove over the Forth Bridge and up to Knockhill where The Husband had a word with a couple of the Knockhill guys. He and The Brother have a track day coming up. Then we headed perilously close to T in the Park to the village of Pool of Muckhart. At Pool of Muckhart we dropped into Mona's of Muckhart.
Mona's has gifts, plants, cards, sweets, jams and home baking etc for sale, indoor and outdoor seating, and a full menu of hot and cold meals, snacks and beverages. It's comfortable, clean and welcoming. The food is very nice, but I have to mention our experience. Could be out of their ordinary, maybe a one-off coincidence, maybe someone on duty had a hang-over, but I heard one man saying as they paid their bill, we asked for brown you gave us white. When it came to my French Brie with cranberry sauce and sliced apple on wholemeal bread, served with a delicious side salad, I'd asked for it to be toasted, it arrived untoasted. All I'm saying is, one woman looked a bit bleary.
The Husband and I watched Talk To Her last night, the next in our Almodovar spree. Another intricate and interesting Spanish tale with several eyebrow-raising twists.
04/07/11Invalid News, not smoking, Raclette, 127 Hours and Up
I'm back, post-op, still alive. I went to hospital last Monday (27/06/11) and before I knew it I was in knee length socks, a backless gown and then I was down in theatre being cut, bruised and parted from my uterus, tubes, ovaries and cervix.
I should be feeling great, after all, I'm MRSA negative, my bloods are within normal levels, urine NAD, chest clear AND I've given up cigarettes and the nicotine replacement therapy.
The hysterectomy was Monday afternoon, they starved me from Sunday evening till Wednesday afternoon, sent me home Thursday, stitch out Saturday. It's been a painful week. I'm really swollen and bruised, so bruised that every nurse and doc that looked kinda recoiled slightly and said summit along the lines of, phew that's a lot of bruising.
And I had funny spot bruising all up my front thighs that none of them can explain, I think they must've sat a tray of instruments there.
Anyways, it's all done now, and a week later, it's not great. I'm bruised, sore, tired, tearful and finding it a bit tricky to not do things I'm not s'posed to do, not easy cos on the To Do list is nothing. Meanwhile the Not To Do list has lifting, bending down and everything else. The Husband is at hand taking care of me.
As a bi-product of the op, I gave up the ciggies. I was thinking I'd go cold turkey on the day of the op, but at my pre-op appointment a nice doctor lady advised that every day pre-op without the fags would be a bonus, so I gave up the day after she told me this. Day 1 of no smoking was Thursday 23/06/11, I started chewing nicotine gum instead, then gave up the gum on Sunday 26/06/11. Them Smoking Cessation nurses got me and told me to stop taking nicotine into my body at 10pm the night prior to the op. Basically, I just did what I was told, for a change, no fussin, no arguing. Last bit of nicotine gum got spat out at 10pm as per instructions and the morphine, disability and hospital confinement got me through the cold turkey.
Last month we were treated to a Raclette meal by The Husband's cousin & wife in London, and I loved it. T'other day at our local Dobbies garden centre we found Raclette cheese, not that we were particularly looking for it, but now it's so available...
Back at Starry Towers I ordered up a Severin Raclette Party Grill for 6 people at Mekassa.co.uk for the low low price of £37.99 with free delivery.
It includes 6 non stick coated mini pans for under the grill, the top can be used as a BBQ, a powerful 850W heating element, enamelled steel housing, variable thermostat and pilot light and low generation of smoke due to the water filled grill tray.
The Husband and I watched 127 Hours, very good, and that's canyoning added to the list of things I should try to avoid at all costs.
UP also brings to mind an activity worth steering clear off, ie flying to an inhospitable foreign land with your house tied to party balloons, but the movie is great fun, simultaneously silly and serious.
26/06/11Op Day tomorrow
24/06/11Rench Tom News, Operation News and Paul
The day is fast approaching, The Op is sooner than I'd like it to be. I'm coming over all squeamish and a little bit glum. Fasting overnight, checking in late morning, on the table early afternoon then four nights in hospital, what's not to look forward to? Sheesh, I can think of oh, maybe approximately 5386 other places I'd rather be, and that's just off the top of my head.
Anyways, the condemned woman has spent her last couple days of freedom with a womb, gardening, mowing the lawn, up a ladder, bending over, carrying heavy things and tidying out cupboards. No-one else is going to get down on their knees with a pair of scissors and trim my lawn edges. No-one else is going to fold and stack the towels the way I like them. And now I've got to go to work on my last two days with a womb.
Last minute contact from the hospital means the off duty stands as is. With more pre-warning I could've asked for some time off to panic, clean and hysterically rearrange and sort. But I'll be finishing work 8.30pm, one last sleep, then the big snooze 'n' lose in a theatre near you, well, near me, up at St John's Hospital.
The Husband and I watched Paul last night, very good and an excellent piece of animation work.
20/06/11iPod prob
The unthinkable has happened, disaster, what to do? My 160GB iPod is full. No seriously, what do I do? Apple doesn't make an iPod with a larger load of GBs. Apple claims a 160GB holds approximately 40,000 songs, I'm disputing this figure. The obvious answer is to remove stuff, which I've just done, but it goes against my completist OCD nature. What if one day when I'm not in Starry Towers I wish to hear Loretta Lynn sing Harper Valley PTA? Or Ice Queen by Within Temptation? Really, Ice Queen by Within Temptation, never heard of them. Just had a wee listen and deleted it, don't know how it came to be on there. I'm guessing a movie soundtrack?
19/06/11Fathers Day and Snetterton results
Happy Fathers Day to The Dad. He was over in the Sunny D direction today, tending to Rench Tom in preparation for the little ram's appearance in the show ring of the Royal Highland Show next weekend. The Dad dropped in to see me and got his Fathers Day card (with sheep on) and his gift, a little toy lorry. The Dad is a retired lorry driver and this toy truck has his name on the side. Yes I'm sure this item is intended for little boys, but as I know full well, men of all ages have a boy like charm and sense of fun. His reaction to this unexpected gift brought joy to my heart.
Black-Flag Racing was formed in 2008 and won the Endurance Racing Senior 600 TAG championship of that year. I was present at many of the races and that night of glory as they picked up the silverware at the Milton Hilton back in February 2009. Photographic evidence of the racing and the Milton Hilton dinner dance awards ceremony are on The Bike Gallery.
The Husband and The Great Dodski are Black-Flag Racing. If only they'd asked me, I'd have got them a better name. But alack alas, and it was quickly too late to admit they'd been a tad hasty.
After the major triumph of 2008 they had a good long look at themselves, and pondered what the future held. Was it time to start being sensible, to grow up? It's an expensive business careering round a racetrack at every opportunity, and it's not entirely without risk to life and limb. Should they admit they had a good time, but now in this time of austerity measures, global financial hardship, other major demands on their wallets, like for instance, major DIY home improvement jobs that need done ASAP, could it be time to retire from the track? Time to say thanks for the memories, we had fun, but it's time, time to move on in adult-responsible-mode? Hell no! They upgraded to 1000cc bikes instead.
I wasn't surprised.
Black-Flag Racing were down enjoying a boys long weekend playing with their favourite toys. After a couple days of track playtime at Snetterton, they were out today for the big finale race, the 3 hour endurance race with a Le Mans start. First time out on their new 1000s, they came in eighth position. Well done you guys.
18/06/11Snetterton, chocolate and the grass - it's all about the OCD!
The Husband's away at Snetterton with BlackFlag Racing, The Great Dodski and The Husband are on the track with the background support of Aberdoom friend Mr B. I mention this because while he's away I tend to take the opportunity to keep Starry Towers spick and span. All the little jobs that can't be done with The Husband around because he willingly leaves stuff lying around, which I can't cope with. I stop fully functioning, I retreat. I try my hardest not to allow my OCD to impinge on normal family life, but anything out of place makes me feel, lets just call it... uncomfortable.
When the mess is away I can go OCD crazy and all the little jobs get done on top of the overall highest level of tidy excellence. And it was in the midst of this OCD tidy tweaking that I discovered 2kg of Cadburys chocolate. You read correctly.
2kg of Cadburys milk chocolate in the form of x2 1kg giant bars. I now remember I bought and put them away for Xmas. Worst thing would've been if the chocolate went out of date before I rediscovered it, that would've been a crying shameful waste. Sorry got distracted there, but it was by a substantial quantity of chocolate, back to the racing. The Snetterton racing will be televised, on Motors TV channel on July 14th, that's quite exciting, The Husband likes to be on TV. We all remember when the Sunny D Post Office got robbed, the major Scottish News camera crew arrived and he was 'innocently' up the road to purchase crisps before I even noticed he'd put his coffee down and stopped talking. Result...the people of Scotland got The Husband on the 6 o'clock news.
Back on 02/05/11 I told of my Starry Towers Lawn Project. The lawn was in a sorry state, more moss than grass, and it weren't pretty.
It was all my own fault for not feeding the grass, it hadn't occurred to me, but starving grass gets weak, allowing weeds and the worst, the moss, to go crazy till what your left with is what you can only refer to as 'a lawn' if you laugh and roll your eyes at the same time.
It was time to get serious.
I purchased a big bag of EverGreen 4-in-1 Complete Lawn Food, Weed and Moss Killer and a load of Miracle-Gro Patch Magic. Voilà. Check it out above. I've got the lushest, healthiest, freshest, greenist green in Sunny D. These products work, though I have to qualify that by adding that I can only vouch for the OCD on-your-knees-perfection approach, and that takes hours and hours over many days to achieve. It's worth it.
17/06/11stories he told me and Lady Gaga even makes Paul O'Grady cool
I'm listening to Rob Lowe's unabridged book on my iPod, Stories I Only Tell My Friends, which I found at BookDepository.co.uk for £14.71 with free delivery, then ripped and converted to mp3 files, and it's great.
Seriously folks, this man tells good stories he previously only told his friends. Some of them are truly fascinating. His personal life events, highlights and lowlights are compiled into a chronological timeline and told in equal measures of entertaining and self-effacing honesty. He does impressions of the people he quotes, the stand out one for me being his Christopher Walken. "I saw your name. It's good. It was on a list. Of the cast. I'm … glad it was you. I wasn't sure. If it was true".
From a very young age Rob some how or other met famous people. He employs a narrative trick of describing a famous person encounter, before revealing who the famous name is at the end of the tale. It comes over well, we're encouraged to experience his experience the way he did, before that person became famous, and/or through the eyes of a young innocent Rob. Name-dropping was never before so nicely done.
One very intriguing story only friends of Rob Lowe knew prior to the book, is the tale of the man who provided personal security and an introduction to Princess Stephanie of Monaco, Glenn Souham (1952-1986). A French 'businessman' gunned down outside his apartment in Paris immediately after Rob left France and his new royal girlfriend, to return to the USA and a touch of much needed reality. Very little information on the www about Mr Souham, which fits with Rob's tale of mystery and international secrecy. It is said that the martial arts specialist assisted the Reagan administration with smuggling arms to the Contras in Nicaragua. President Reagan certainly did send a letter of condolence to Glenn Souham's parents after the assassination of their son.
I watched the Paul O'Grady show this evening, because it was advertised as his Lady Gaga spectacular. She blew me away again. She can turn even a boring oldie chat show (sorry Mr O'Grady but you'll never do any better ever again) into a wonderful, awesome viewing experience she's fantastic, memo to Madonna...it's over, retire.
15/06/11squirrel wars starts again, Pippa's arse shock, Temperley Tourist Trap, Changing Lanes, The Magdalene Sisters and Broken Embraces
I'm mid-purusing The Sunday Times magazines. I get the Sunday Times, throw the newspaper straight in the blue recycling bin, or pass it to The Parents if I see them soon enough, then spend the following week devouring the three magazines. Only fastidious Star Blog readers, ex-husbands and/or ex-boyfriends and stalkers will be aware I rip articles from magazines and read while showering. Most people, apart from fastidious Star Blog readers, ex-husbands and/or ex-boyfriends and stalkers, would deny it's even possible to read in the shower, let me tell the rest of you, it's not only extremely do-able, but it's also one of my most favourite Me-Time activities.
A couple things from my most recent Sunday Times magazine reading, both strangely connected to the recent royal wedding. In this first one, the royal wedding connection is tenuous. An interview with Fiona Bruce tells me she was Rear Of The Year 2010. If you'd asked me, I'd never have guessed, Rear Of The Year not normally being in my sphere of concern. I'm not famous enough to win it, or it would be very much at the top of my To Do list, it would say 'win a Rear Of The Year Award - join a gym...work that arse!'.
The Fiona Bruce interview made me think and tonight I'm in shock. I thought I was safe in my assumption of this years winner. I was all set to confidently predict Rear Of The Year 2011.
Always one to check my information before blindly blogging (really). I'm nothing if not a Google wiz, and Google told me it's not so. I'm glad, shocked and stunned in equal measures. The (female) Rear of The Year 2011 is Carol Vorderman. WTF? Huh? Why? I'd of thought, wrongly it transpires, that this would go to the most talked about toosh, the arse most in the public awareness. I think maybe they just awarded too soon, before the wedding. How silly will they be feeling now? Very, I'm guessing. Rear Of The Year 2012 prediction...Pippa's arse.
I don't even know why this bum award lot are credited like they're all official and important. They spell Marilyn Monroe 'Marylyn' and Jane Russell 'Russel-'. The Rear Of The Year website is a very sloppy website.
Segueing nicely onto another tenuous Pippa/wedding story from The Sunday Times. The regular Relative Values article features Alice Temperley and her sister Matilda. Temperley designed the emerald green gown Pippa wore to the evening reception party. Alice Temperley is quoted in this article thus..."...just before the royal wedding I really felt I needed to get away and have an adventure. So I joined Matilda in Ethiopia, where she wa
s working (working is stretching it...her sister
is a photographer)...we stayed with the Mursi tribe, who attach
testicles to their heads before wedding ceremonies. I asked one of
the women to take out her lip plate and I engraved William and Catherine
on it with a nail. I know they love Africa, so I've just sent it
to them as a wedding present. It's a piece of history they'll
really appreciate." No they won't. It'll go in the bin
if they know any shit, or Harry'll bring it out as an ashtray at parties
if they're crass and thick.What part of that story makes you sickest? I'm struggling. Is it that she is portraying her expensive Into Africa trip as some sort of humane mission, while in reality the Mursi tribe are now a popular tourist attraction mostly because of the lip plates. Tourists pay to take photographs of these girls and women with their mutilated faces. Whatever the historic and cultural origin of this nasty bit of female branding, which not only involves the cutting and stretching of the lower lip, but also the removal of teeth, there's a strong suspicion today that they continue to do it for the tourist-buck. It's like coming back from Australia with a couple of big chunks of The Great Barrier Reef in your suitcase. Cue the 'my friend went to Africa and all I got was a lousy labret' T-shirts. The silly woman doesn't understand she should be Guilt Tripping over her exploitation. She purchased the lip plate off a person's face and took a nail to it...engraved the names William and Kate and sent it to them. As a wedding gift. She also named her young son 'Fox'.
Stupid people with too much money are prone to visit far flung places and return home smug, thinking they just experienced the real deal, ignorant of the fact they got ripped off, exploited others and played their part in destroying the very culture they think they just experienced. TourismConcern.org.uk is trying their best to get the message across, and have a page about the lip-plate Mursi.
Changing Lanes is gripping. If your most excited by gripping, this is a slow burner, but when it gets you it gets you, it gets you in heaps, by the balls or the brain or the whatever other bit of your body you get most gripped. Ben Affleck is fantastic (as most always) and Samuel L Jackson turns out, as usual to be the righteous man. Takes his character a while to get there, but you always know he will be in the end. What does Affleck do in the end? Watch the movie and find out. The Husband commented the only thing missing for him were subtitles. A good tale, well told. But I have a hankering that they shouldn't have gone for the obvious, but now out-dated, stereotypical race card, this story would've been better if they'd done it with two men of the same race and not the rich privileged white guy verses the poor downtrodden black guy. In a time when the USA has a black president we're all aware that colour is no barrier to personal progress.
The Husband and I have also watched Peter Mullan's The Magdalene Sisters. Set in 1960s Ireland, depicting Catholic institutional abuse. I hate Catholicism. This film will upset you, I've been thinking about it vividly since. They are still the largest paedophile ring in the world, ever. This movie tells the tale of 3 teenage girls who were told, get thee to a nunnery.
They got 'sent away' into a life of slavery and abuse of all kinds for innocently shaming their Catholic families and communities. The last of the Irish Magdalene Laundries was closed in 1996. 1996! Wikipedia tells the insanely disgusting story here.
Transpires this is a timely watch. Justice for Magdalenes (JFM), the survivor advocacy group, has recently made a formal submission to the United Nations Committee Against Torture. The Committee Against Torture (Uncat) is now examining this report against Ireland for the first time on the extent to which it is meeting its human rights obligations to prevent torture, other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. Uncat issued a statement this week criticising the Irish government for refusing to acknowledge the pain and abuse suffered by women incarcerated in the laundries and called for a thorough investigation and compensation scheme.
I found this by Mary Raftery at The Guardian.
Just one of the Catholic church's most shameful and dirtiest linen being washed in public, at long last. If there's any justice in the world, religion should be banned, it's not a good thing.
This evening The Husband and I watched another Pedro Almodovar movie in our quest to view his entire back catalogue. And since I'm now the proud owner of what seems like hunners of his DVDs, we will bloody well watch them. Tonight was the turn of Broken Embraces which contains, as usual, many of Almodovar favourite things...Penelope Cruz, a film being made within a film, an intricate narrative, family, simple primal desires, passion, sex and Spain. We liked it for the intricate narrative and all the other favourite Pedro Almodovar favourite things, and the feeling of cosy familiarity we now have with his work, it's like dipping into a favourite book of short stories now. And the subtitles of course, we do like the subtitles.
12/06/11totally Shameless, new kins, sheep news, sexual predator killers all start somewhere and Butterfly On A Wheel
Actor
David Threlfall and actress Pauline McLynn in their acting roles of
Frank and Libby in Shameless were very believable playing a man and
woman in a romantic relationship. I thought their acting skills shown
through. Very good.Previously, Irish Pauline was fantastic in her role as Mrs Doyle in Father Ted, probably my all time favourite TV comedy show ever. That catch phrase of hers, 'go on, go on, go on'. What a temptress, go on, go on, go on, you know you want to, oh how I laughed. I believed Pauline as a much older and unattractive spinster Parochial housekeeper.
In Shameless they are such good actors. They take us, the audience, in. We're transported to a place where we truly believe there is sexual chemistry between these two 'love-birds'. How do they do that? Magnificent work you guys. That's all I'm saying.
I
have new kin. My cousins Lynn and her
brother Jim, who's weddings we attended in the last couple years, have
both become parents recently. I know this is starting to sound a
bit incestuous, but fear not. Lynn gave birth to her new baby son
Jack, then Jim's wife gave birth a week later to little baby Hannah.
Congratuwelldone to all concerned.Remember back on 30/05/11 I blogged that The Dad had returned home victorious, having bagged all the rosettes along the way to being proclaimed Champion Shetland Sheep at the Fife Show with Rench Tom? If perchance you don't remember, scroll down this page to said blog entry why don't you. But the short version is The Dad took the one sheep that remains as a show sheep in the memory of my much missed Octogenarian Friend, to the Fife Show and came home the winner. I mused if my Octogenarian Friend had somehow known and waited till now to call one of his sheep after himself. Up visiting The Parents on Friday I'm full of questions.
The
Dad tells me Rench Tom wasn't so named last year, last year Rench Tom
was just a nameless ram lamb, though he was a 'prize-winning' ram lamb.This fast growing young boy has since been named in memory of the Octogenarian Friend by The Arbuckles, who have taken guardianship since the Octogenarian Friend died. And I was right that the ram lamb the Octogenarian Friend won with last year is this same now tup hogg The Dad took into the ring.
What
a difference a year makes in the sheep world, look at them horns.More Shetland Sheep news, The Dad is fast becoming a famous name in the agricultural show rings of Scotland. Last week at the Central and West Fife Show he went along to help The Arbuckles with their own bred sheep. He was asked to take Fennel, a coloured gimmer into the show ring, she won her class, then Champion coloured Shetland and went even further, to the . Oh how far The Dad has come since coming home with his solitary Novice Young Handler rosette last Summer.
The Mum says he's loving this, I said, hell yeah!
Some bad news. A 14 year old girl was the target of an attempted abduction from a bus stop near Tesco in Bathgate on Sunday 5th June at 2000. The man got out of a small white van, approached the schoolgirl and tried to drag her to his van. He is described as white, 5ft 11in and 20 to 30 years old. He had a thin build and a tanned complexion with dark facial growth, especially around the chin, and a wide jaw. He was wearing a light- coloured long-sleeved top, light blue jeans, light -coloured training shoes and a light-coloured woolly hat. He had a rough voice with a local accent.
Reminded me of the Carnwath incident on Friday 14th May of last year. At 1630 a 12 year old girl was walking along Main Street when a man tried to drag her into a small white van. This man is described as white, about 20 years old, approximately 5ft 9ins in height with a slim build. He was wearing a pale blue, sleeveless top and navy blue tracksuit bottoms which were tucked into tan coloured rigger boots and had holes at the knees. He also smelt strongly of oil.
Similar enough to be linked. And I'm sure the police have put the 2 and 2 together and will be making the connections. I'm just scared we're witnessing the latest Tobin or Black of future news reports and documentaries cataloguing the long list of young victims. If you were witness to either of these incidents or suspect anyone of being the young slim man with the small white van, a whiff of oil or not, please contact...
Lothian and Borders Police on 0131 311 3131, or Crimestoppers in confidence and complete anonymity on 0800 555 111.
You might be thinking your being silly, couldn't be him, he's so...normal. Or you think he's a worry, but police wouldn't take you seriously cos it's just a hunch bout the young man with the small white van, your gut reaction, anything. Lots of people didn't worry bout Tobin and Black, or thought it wasn't their concern, well it's everyone's concern. If your wrong, at least you'll know that after the police have eliminated the guy, you'll know that if other young girls get abducted, raped, sexually tortured, murdered, if more parents and sisters, brothers, grandparents, aunties, school friends have to live the rest of their lives dealing with the brutal loss of their little loved girls, it won't be your fault. Please call the numbers with any little detail.
A man who tries to drag a girl off the street, attempts to abduct a child, he doesn't stop. It's in him, and innocent children are in the most severe danger. Evil hated serial killers and predatory sex offenders all start somewhere. You could be the hero.
I heard about the Bathgate girl and immediately thought, please no, not another Tobin, Scotland can't have another so soon. Protect the children, if your wrong you've done no harm, just a young slim guy with a small white van, or access to a small white van crossed off the suspect list. The Bathgate police report is here, and the Carnwath here.
The Husband and I watched Butterfly On A Wheel this evening. Way too much vertigo-inducing camera angels for me personally, I felt quite nauseous a good few times, but from the safety of my own sofa that's a thrilling sensation. I didn't work it out, quite a good twist and twist some more movie.
09/06/11Google guitar doodle, Talk Talk made me crazy mad and an evil troll monster strangely called Elaine from Brazil
Les
Paul is 96, it's his birthday. I know this cos Google is
celebrating with a Google guitar toy we can all twang out a tune on at
your Google search page. He's probably not actually 96, he's
probably dead, ach, give me a mo till I Google it...09/06/11 - 12/08/09.
Yep he's dead. He wasn't even really called Les Paul, he was
previously known as Lester William Polsfuss. Did a lot for the
world of music though, so Happy Birthday Mr Paul, if it were any use to
me I would now go buy a guitar, as heavily suggested by Google when you
click on the Google Les Paul guitar doodle.Say what you want about Google, it is the most entertaining search engine I know of, and, erm...it's the only one I know of.
Know what's the biggest thing I did out of badness...recently? No not the ignoring of the 4 year old with the football, or the Tesco deliveries of some little goodies I keep to myself in a secret stash kitchen cupboard. I'm referring to my latest act of badness. I went to my online banking site and cancelled the direct debits to our previous landline non-provider Talk Talk and, for good measure, our previous broadband provider Orange. And why not? What can they do? Talk Talk made me crazy mad this last 6 weeks, they deserve a bit of inconvenience back at them. For the last 6 weeks I was paying for, at best, a reduced severely inferior service and at worst, a non existent service. They didn't care. Well, it's my turn to not give them an iota of concern for their troubles. They can track me down and try to get their message across, I'll probably adopt a foreign accent and claim I no comprehend. I'll call screen if they phone and ignore. I'll repeat back at them everything they say in letter or email...you are telling me there is problem? Could take 6 months or more before I finally understand what they are telling me.
The World's Most Pierced Woman got married, perchance in Edinburger, I raised an eyebrow when I read the bride enjoyed her registry office ceremony in Edinburger. Jeeez, not being judgemental or anything, but...seriously...that's got to be classed as mutilation. Ms Elaine Davidson, a Brazilian born ex-nurse who now runs a shop in the capital, has 6925 piercings. Mind-boggling.
Aside...how come this Brazilian born human sieve is called Elaine Davidson? But, anyways...I'd struggle to suggest or even point to 6925 places on me for a piercer to pierce. I used to think there were only...any part of the external ears, the nose, the eyebrows, the tongue, the cheeks (facial), the nipples, the belly button, the penis and clitoris. I can't see the attraction of most of these more usual mentioned piercings, so can't for a moment get my head round why this world-record-chasing obsessive self-harming piercee would rack up 6925. And don't you just know she's not finished yet, the big 7000 is too enticingly close.
The 46 year old World's Most Pierced Woman married her 60-summit yr old apparently totally conventional husband, and she says she never removes her hardware, sleeps in all that 7lbs of heavy metal. I know I said I was trying to not be judgemental, but I think she's mentally ill, she's got to be. She's made herself look like an evil troll monster in the name of Guiness.
08/06/11sick boys and...an even sicker dictator
The boys here are sick. That's The Husband and The Boy. I on the other hand have managed to avoid catching their germy germs, despite living with the two of them breathing on me frequently. They're both moaning and groaning about coughs, aches, pains and sweating, it looks to me to be the cold. They still have an appetite for food, so that's a good thing. They probably have Man Flu.
Of course I might not be so flippant if I actually succumb to the constant threat that their germy germs are to me, then I'll have a Woman Cold...and I'll probably go wash the windows, mow the lawn, that kind of thing. Hahaha, I'm only (half) joking, I love them boys, even when they're ill.
Colonel Gaddafi could be promoting rape as a weapon of war. Rape is always a weapon, used by aggressors against weaker victims in all walks of life and situations, and has of course been a weapon of war in probably every war in history.
The new twist being reported tonight is that Gaddafi is supplying Viagra to his soldiers to facilitate the rape of the country's women, and I think we can assume they won't stop at women, children would be equally at risk, old folks, men, anyone and everyone. FFS, I've never heard the like, as if soldiers in wartime need encouragement to abuse their position of power over civilian victims. If this Viagra story is true, it steps the level of evil already attributed to this sociopathic dictator up another previously unimaginable notch.
05/06/11TV talent show news The Footballers' Guidebook and Solitary Man
The Cheryl latest...too-long story much shorter...hired, fired, hired again. When a male biker friend told me the 're-hired' bit, I said nahhh, can't be so. He insisted, it's all been a publicity stunt. I insisted right back at him, nahhh, the USA can't understand a word she says. He stated his opinion, that her accent isn't that bad. I said it is so too. He said...well he said he was right and I was wrong, you get the gist. I was just surprised I was having this conversation with him.
Anyways...breaking 'news'...the tear-stained lass is now reported to be threatening to make personal emails public that will prove she was indeed sacked. The implication is that Fox has invited her back and denying sacking her so she can't sue them for breach of contract while hoping she couldn't possibly show up at the next round of auditions for shame, and then they can get out of it cos she'd then be in breach of contract...summit like that. It's getting so complicated, but I stand by my belief that her accent is too bad, and that's bad...in a bad way.
Me being a football podcast convert I was informed via the Heart and Hand Rangers podcast on The Facebook that The Footballers' Guidebook will be handed to every player in England's top four divisions next season. Oh dear.
I knew it was a good thing when The Boy turned out to be 'not good enough' to make a career at football.
A mother's instinct told me it would probably be best if he just got a job, any job, when he left school. It was either that, or he'd be getting down to business with leather-clad prostitutes older than his own mother, and that wouldn't be a good thing in the long run. Granny B would never live it down for one thing.
Footballers aren't any more at risk of getting too full of their own self-importance than rock stars, models, so-called 'stars' of reality TV or anyone else that gets handed way more money than their actual achievements deserve in reality. They aren't curing cancer or inventing the zero-emission water powered soft-top sports-car capable of travel at 70 MPH for 10,000 miles before it needs a new 99p capsule dropped in the tank.
The vast majority of these guys aren't suffering any mental health issues. They're simply too far up their own arses, most of them aren't very bright. Their skills are in their feet and physical fitness. They can play football, that's all, they're not supernatural beings. The answer is that society has to stop feeding the delusional process. I do understand that's not going to be an easy fix. And what with a certain footballer super-injunction being recently shot to pieces...they should probably start to behave like the rest of us...responsible for the consequences of our own behaviour and develop a personal moral code, like real adult people, or at least accept that they should acknowledge there could be such a thing as a moral code.
My Dad says...when you turn about 21...your all the man (or woman) your ever going to be, and that's a fact. They need a reality check sometime very soon. Giving them a handbook explaining mental illness seems to smack of...here's another excuse you could use boys. I admit, it's one of my bugbears, genuine mental illness is still stigmatised in the UK today, despite national campaigns, while unfortunately it seems that the more publicity for mental health issues, the more people seem to, dare I say it...jump on the bandwagon. And in saying that, I include a large proportion of people I know personally, a load of ordinary people seem to believe that life isn't 'happy' enough and the doc can give you tablets to make it better. It's a reflection of the western world today, a pill for every ill (thank you to the big money of drug companies) and a rehab clinic for every vice...but only for them that can afford a wee holiday and need a break from the paps and newspapers. It's all gone a bit Hollywood movie star, scary. Moral code is what's really missing. Check out the Eastern World in general, they're mostly too busy staying alive to indulge any personal preciousness.
Will there be a 'WAGS Guidebook - Life As A Professional WAG And How To Handle It' anytime soon? Because for every footballer there is at least one WAG. Some of them have a W and a G, or more than one G at the same time, and purchase part-time prossie-Gs.
WAGS Guidebook - How to avoid mental illness when you have to face the fact that YOU decided this was what you wanted and got it sooo wrong - yes - YOUR footballer husband/boyfriend shags indiscriminately and is stupid beyond believe? He may even prove to be so monumentally thick that he'll take a gun to work and shoot a child. Why did you not realise that was going to happen? Either that or you made a calculated decision to get yourself a footballer's credit card, cos it offers a far higher standard of living than the poor scummy council house and child-benefit version, so you must be way prettier and clever-er-er.
The Husband and I watched Solitary Man this evening, very good, highly recommended by us.
03/06/11The Husband's back, we lurve SKY and desperately seeking more football funnies
The Husband's back (and there it is on the right) safe and well from his Englander 3-race-track bike-fest. He had a load of fun an' all. He brought home a load of new photies of him looking good on his new race bike, the Yamaha R1.
However most importantly...what I was waiting for...he opened the SKY router parcel and plugged stuff in...and voila...we have www service courtesy of SKY, and it works.
Yep, it's a The Husband job that, opening stuff, plugging stuff in and switching stuff on. He saved us from internet starvation. Phew! I couldn't have done that, I'm just a little lady with no skills in the opening, plugging in and password setting.
Yes, it's that easy.
Desperately missing my favourite football podcasts...because apparently the football season is over, why don't they just do it every week?...I had to download another. I'm playing catch up on all their archived episodes giving me hours of listening football fun pleasure. This one is from the same stable as Heart & Hand and Footballistically Arsenal, PlayBackMedia.co.uk, it's called The Whistle Blowers. Mark Webster and various guests talking about the football world in general. There's a couple episodes with Heart & Hand's Mr David Edgar as a phone-in guest, my favourite episodes.
It's been filling a hole, and now it's my fourth favourite football podcast. I have to admit that's fourth out of four, but all the same, it's growing on me, just can't get enough of these football funnies. My all-time favourite football podcast is still The Tuesday Club from Alan Davies, because of that dream when I woke up a little in love with Alan Davies, and I remain to this day, a little in love with Mr Davies.
01/06/11a fuel gift, Jane Goldman, Jessie J, SKY and E Coli
I read with interest the interview with screenwriter and movie producer Jane Goldman in last week's Sunday Times Culture magazine. She is quoted as saying "Andrew [Sachs] gave consent. They apologised to him immediately and said it shouldn't go out, but he said, 'It's fine, tone down some of the swearing, but put it out'. Jane is the wife of Jonathan Ross for you all that don't know. This confirms what I heard back at the time when the British media hysteria frenzy outrageously called for Ross and Brand to be booted off the BBC, while they, the media, as Jane points out, were the ones who gave the Sach's grand-daughter's n
ame, showed photographs of her
and raked over her past. No-one
knew who she was from the phone call. Hypocrisy and lies, damn
lies. The impact on me personally was that my free BBC Wossy
podcast supply stopped, he made great podcasts too.I caught Jessie J on BGT, I wasn't watching BGT you understand, just innocently channel hopping. If she was a contestant, I wouldn't have put her through, all that indistinguishable shouty noise. With that ridiculous union jack lipstick that from a distance looked like fangs. Standing ovation my arse.
No www connection as I'm writing this, so I'm guessing SKY have taken over. I'm forbidden from setting up the new SKY router...it's a The Husband's job...obviously. But The Husband is AWOL on his 4-day/3-race-track trip to Engerland with his new R1. A day each at Olton Park, Snetterton and Cadwell Park, and a day's worth of travelling.
Germany and the outbreak of a new deadly strain of E Coli. The Sister-In-Law is currently in Germany, northern Germany. Well, I'm afraid she can stay there for now. All the people in the UK with this strain of E Coli have recently been in northern Germany. The Husband better not be going back to Holland anytime soon either, given that viruses don't have any trouble crossing borders. No salad for the time being, cucumbers, tomatoes and lettuces are off the menu for now. To be honest they're not very often on the menu. Though from what I understand, The Sister-In-law would have to catch it then touch my food with dirty hands before I eat the food, for me to catch it from her, so I s'pose as long as I keep her out of the Starry Towers kitchen we should be fine.
Sis-In-Law...take good care...and...don't eat the salad!!!
31/05/11ball issue and Rob Lowe
When I'm in serious Me Time mode that means Do Not Disturb. All I want is to be left alone to chill, indulge myself in total zoned-out happy-time. I've just done x 3 13hr shifts (Sat/Sun/Mon) at the coal face of the NHS fer fecks sake. I can say hiya, smile and nod at passers-by. I can even muster some full-on social niceties for the grocery delivery guy/guyess, Royal Mail person or courier deliver chap/chapess. I'm not rude or ignorant at all. I do the necessaries with good grace and wish to be left alone thereafter, don't bother me...please.
So today, there I was...I'm sitting in the front garden, and when I say sitting in the front garden I really mean sitting IN. Down on my knees or my bum, in the dirt, amongst the flowers. Getting in and out means careful foot placement from stepping stone to stepping stone, balancing and body-swerving the taller plants. My iPod ear-bud cable and cardigan get caught the taller plants, the roses in particular...them thorns you know. In short, it's a bit of a trial and I only do it when necessary. I don't want the inconvenience and I don't want to damage the flowers. Then it starts...the wee boy grandson of the NOWG (the Neighbour Over the Wall Guy) is kicking his lightweight plastic football about and inevitably it's going to come over the wall.
First time it comes over I acknowledge the wee boy, down my trowel, get up from my kneeling position and step out of the garden...very carefully...as needs must. I hand it back and request that the boy be more careful and not have me doing this again today. I told him it's not easy for me to do this ball retrieval service, I'm busy and don't wish to be troubled any further. He agreed he wouldn't, he's 4 yrs old. He's cute and pretty, but he's more careless than I'd like. I was thinking of The Parent's method of dealing with unwanted balls from their neighbouring Primary School playground. This was years ago, they had a Doberman, ball would come over, Doberman would go out and dog nature took care of the problem. The dog would simply stand on the ball with a paw then bite in and burst it. This was after many many many times of throwing the ball back, they got fed-up with doing their civil civic duty, and I don't blame them. I'm guessing the primary school responsible adults got serious and told them kids to stop their nonsense. The Parents had Poodles after the last Doberman and these days their dog is Leo (Pomeranian). Little dogs with no ball-bursting credentials. The Parents experience tells me that children are capable of NOT putting balls over walls when they really put their minds to it.
However this one hasn't had a burst ball handed back...yet. So I was back in position, hard at gardening tidy duties and the ball came back over. He called out to me...I ignored him. I enjoyed it too. I reckoned, what could he do? I kept on gardening pretending I couldn't hear. I had an iPod ear-bud in one ear and traffic was driving past, it was feasible that I really couldn't hear him, the little shite. I assumed Granddad (NOWG) would come out to sort it because of the noise the child was making. And he did...and know what? I ignored him too. That was seriously satisfying and great fun.
Thing is, after a few more minutes I pretended to notice NOWG, just his head and shoulders visible over the wall, holding the grandson up. I mimicked someone just becoming aware of someone else trying to catch their attention. Then the ahhhh moment...the ball is over? I made a big deal of downing tools, standing up, wiping the dirt from my knees, staged a complicated stepping stone trip out of the garden, de-snagging my cardigan and ear-bud cable a few times. He was a total prick. He spoke to me with no care or concern for others, just a massive sense of his own entitlement. He drew my innocent attention to the fact the ball was back over, requesting I give it back, as I'm doing that he asks me, 'did he ask you already?' I said what? Did he ask you already? The grandson had a face on him like his favourite football just got burst by a Doberman. Did he ask me already? Yes and I gave it back already. Did he ask you just now? He asked me the last time I gave it back. 'I thought you didnae hear him cos you've got your things in' he says pointing to an ear. I remained pleasant and told him...yeah I have, got my things in. I was all faux-confused sweetness and light, eh? and ahh, and sorry what? His face was like thunder, he never said please and he never said thank you. Ignorant bastard.
He's taking the piss. This is the same NOWG who first off told us we were monoblocking a half metre of Starry Towers ground that actually belongs to him (on our side of the wall). We told him, prove it and sue us. Then it's his trees that are playing havoc with our phone line, and most recently, he told The Husband that our big side gates which The Husband had fixed to the adjoining wall, a wall that he regards as his, are damaging OUR wall. Which they aren't. That fault line in the cement between the bricks has been there for like as long as I can recall, which is probably 1990.
The Husband immediately sorted out the gate/wall problem by detaching our gates from said wall and building an independently standing gate. He must be pissed off bout that and now he's got nothing to moan about apart from me innocently listening to my iPod, ignoring him and not returning the ball as fast as he'd like. I tell you what...tomorrow...I'll have both ear-buds in and I'll be ignoring him and his football-over-the-wall-is-big-fun fluffy blonde-haired blue-eyed greetin' faced grandson big time.
A couple of plugs now, I've been catching up on and really enjoying Richard Bacon's Daily Bacon podcasts. Today, I thoroughly appreciated Richard talking to Rob Lowe. Much interested, impressed and enamoured by Rob Lowe and his talk of his autobiography 'The Stories I Only Tell My Friends', and his seemingly honest self-deprecating warmth, I set out to find the actual CD audiobook version of his memoir. I've already tried audiobook downloads from Audible.co.uk and didn't like it. You get the file loaded to your iPod then discover they're in control. If you happen to fall asleep there's no way to easily find your way back to the last bit you recall. I'm dead set now on only ever buying the hard copy real CD version of audiobooks so I can rip my own mp3 files and treat them the way I like. The best deal for the CD unabridged Rob Lowe book that I could find was from BookDepository.co.uk. For £14.71 with free delivery.
30/05/11Rench Tom, FIFA and made in China
And
how well this young boy sheep is named, Rench Tom he be called.
Makes me wonder why Tom never named any of his sheep after himself
before. Or maybe he did and it's OK to have more than one called
the same over the years, obviously after the previous one is no more.
Or maybe he foresaw this very situation, he was wiley enough. And
it's this kind of wondering that makes me saddest. I can't jot
this down with the plan of asking my Old Octogenarian friend next time I
see him. I will jot it down to ask The Dad though.Rench Tom went locally, to the foster care of The Arbuckles. The Dad has been visiting the Arbuckles to tend young Tom in preparation for this summer's agricultural shows. His first outing was at the Fife Show earlier this month. The Dad went to the show with this one sheep, and came away with the Shetland Champion rosette, and a bit of silverware. I think there were five rosettes in total...all in red, white and blue...and the bit of silverware, the Wine Byre Merchants Quaich for Champion Shetland at The Fife Show.
Rench Tom is now a tup hogg, and won that category at Fife 2011 which took him through to being considered for the championship. A tup is a male, a hogg is a young sheep that has finished weening, and a lamb is still weening. The other category before sheep become known as a fully grown 'ewe' or 'ram' is 'shearling'. A shearling has been sheared once. Sheep are not sheared in their first year so a shearling really describes a two-year-old sheep. By my calculations, last years lambs will now be this years hoggs, before progressing to next years shearlings.
After I hurt my brain recalling all that The Octogenarian Friend ever taught me bout sheep and figuring it all out, I checked back to my photies of the East Fife Show 2010, and came up with this picture of Tom showing his male lamb. I'm guessing this must be Rench Tom, he's awfy sweet, look at that little face. But I might have got it all wrong...I'll ask The Dad.
"Crisis? What crisis? We are only in some difficulties and these difficulties will be solved inside our family.” FIFA president Sepp Blatter has to be the most self-deluded international dictator on the planet at this time. My mind is blown that it's even possible a sporting organisation can be so far off kilter and immune to the law. It's ridiculous.
You'd
be a bit shocked too if this happened to you. Do not drive on
China's roads is the main lesson to be learned. The Mum complains
bitterly about road maintenance in her local area around Braehead (the
Lanarkshire village not the Lanarkshire shopping centre).Every winter it's more potholes, severe potholes...we know, when we go up to visit The Parents The Husband has to drive over and into them on a regular basis too. For the record, they've currently sorted them all out again. But this takes the hole in the road biscuit. That's a lorry down there.
26/05/11BT where are you??? GaGa, BIG hair and Let Me In
Watched Lady GaGa's Madison Square Garden show on some channel I only watch while The Husband's at home, probably a SKY thing. I'm even more in love with her now. She was brilliant, again. The bit at the end when she was singing her new song I Was Born This Way a cappella style, with just backing singers joining in here and there, sounding all gospel and praise the lord, I had tears well up in my eyes. She has a fantastic voice.
My immediate reaction to the showbizz goss that Cheryl isn't to be a judge on the USA X Factor was no surprise. That accent, didn't I say so earlier this month, yes I did, on the 6th.
But, on second thoughts, this could still be a teaser, would Cowell really take her out there to have her shamed in this way, I kinda doubt it.
And shouldn't the USA X Factor people already be well aware of her little foibles before she got there?
It doesn't make sense they'd do this...take her on, chuck her off...nahhh...I reckon the Cowell powers that be are toying with the fans. If it turns out to be true and there are USA powers higher than Cowell, ie the Fox network...I'll be genuinely surprised, but glad. And she looked ridiculous BTW, in her Chewbacca style hair and a terrible outfit. BUT...she wasn't the first. Anyone scratching their head trying to figure what she was thinking...she'd seen Cameroon's first lady Chantal Biya. But she wasn't the first to imitate the original and best BIG hair world figure, back in 2009 Daily Mail journo Claire Coleman gave it a go in a deliberate piss-take. What was the Chavette thinking?
The Husband and I watched Let Me In this evening, the American remake of the Swedish Let The Right One In, and starring my favourite if-I-had-a-daughter-I'd-want-this-one Chloe Grace Moretz (Kick Ass). It's very good, an intense and twisted tale of manipulation, abuse, love and sadness, and every which way that ineffectual parents and society can fail children. Having watched Let The Right One In, I reluctantly admit it's just not as good as the original, sorry Hit Girl. The original would always win out, purely by being the original, that shouldn't deter anyone who loves the original from watching this version, it's very very good, just slightly different.
25/05/11The Great Storm of 2011
Later I was called upon a second time, to assist the old lady through the wall neighbour...lets just call her Carol. She was struggling to lift and retrieve not only her own brown and black bins, but them of her upstairs neighbour and the two lots in the building next to her, four lots of two colours. Du du du daaaahhhh! From nowhere, Bin Girl was there again.
Turned out that The Great Storm of 2011 was the best thing to hit Starry Towers since The Mildly Warm Two Days of Summer 2009, because the landline issue worsened. The gale force winds finally brought the fortnight's worth of phone line and internet connection issues to a head. Long story...I wish I could claim I'll make it short, but you're so not in luck, I'm ranting.
I've recently been driven, out of desperation, to phone Talk Talk. But I knew how that was going to go, I've had previous experience with this situation, back in 2009, same thing exactly. In the end, I was right. So this time I told them, I told them three times. I begged that they would believe me, stop treating me like an idiot and, just listen. That's the thing, they don't listen. What they do do, and they do it so very well, they follow procedure, to the letter. None of them seem to feel free, or able, to think out of their box, they follow procedure. And procedure is, you the customer, gets ignored.
This time round, this is the way it went. I phoned them twice, tried to explain...no, I actually did explain, got ignored, and I put the phone down. I was so angry, I couldn't see the process through to the inevitable disappointing frustrating end with it's accompanying threats of financial cost/extra charges, for a service I thought I was already paying for with monthly direct debits but not actually receiving. Only to be told there isn't a fault on the line, and I'm shouting, THERE IS A FAULT ON THE LINE, I'M EXPERIENCING SAID FAULT ON THE LINE! LISTEN TO ME YOU TALK TALK BASTARDS! But anyway, just ignore me, Talk Talk do. As expected, the best they'd offer was an engineer to check out the in-house system, that would be in 3 days time, and if they found a problem indoors then it would cost (at the least) a £50 call-out charge. If I was right and no fault was found then they would arrange a BT engineer to climb the pole. If I insisted I was right and made them send out the BT pole-climber and was found to be wrong, that would cost a charge of £100. They throw them large charge figures at you, you start to doubt yourself.
I phoned a third time end of last week. They told me again there wasn't a fault on the line. Arrrgaaaaahh! But chill, I actually managed to stay calm and agreed, enough to get to the end of their procedures. I agreed to them sending an internal engineer to visit Starry Towers, that wouldn't happen till the following Thursday (ie tomorrow as I write).
But then came The Great Storm of 2011. On that day I got on the mobile and called them up again. I was actually ready to tell them, bring it on, threaten me with your BT engineer guy up the pole £100 charge. I no longer care, but most of all, I know for feckin sure I'm right and you bunch of bastards are wrong. Bring it on muthafecker!
I said listen you Talk Talk people, and listen very closely...test the line now muthafecker! And, at last, their diagnostic tests proved me right. They need to improve their diagnostic tests. I've been giving more accurate results for the last fortnight. And procedure says I can now have a BT up the pole engineer with no financial charge threat to me the paying customer. We cancelled the previously arranged in-door useless guy, and I went to work yesterday and today. So I've got no idea if the BT guy has been up the pole or not. Tonight the www works well and the phone line isn't noisy and cutting off, though it's not quite right yet, there's a faint ringing in the background behind the dialling tone. I've since found out that SKY took over the land-line and broadband at midnight last night. But I can't imagine how SKY could make these things work unless a man has went up a pole.
I've had to go without the latest episodes of my favourite podcasts these last few days, I've had to resort to listening to The Atheists' Guide To Christmas on audio-book. And that's not easy let me tell you, not because of the short stories the book contains but more to do with the file system Audible Books sells. I won't even try to explain, OK, I can't help myself, I will try to explain, Talk Talk has me on ranting mode. They won't let you download honest to goodness mp3 files that you can then do what you want with. The book goes on your iPod and iTunes takes over. Huge chapters, if you fall asleep in the middle of one of them, you can't easily find your way back to what you remember hearing last. If they gave me my audiobook purchase in short story mp3 files then I could name them the way I roll and actually enjoy my purchase easily. But oh no...
But anyways. Rantings over...for now. On a brighter note I find myself with a spare £900 I can move to one of my savings accounts. Probably due to not being online and not being able to shop, now there's a thought.
22/05/11super-injunctions
But anyways, the rest of the www doesn't care about my problems, they moved fast without me. Just yesterday The Twitter was abuzz with the name and shame of the married unknown footballer who allegedly had an extra-marital with Imogen Thomas and took out an expensive super-injunction to protect his privacy and prevent everyone else from knowing that Imogen claims he's been having a sexual relationship with her.
As
if that wasn't bad enough, he then went on to sue The Twitter.
Bold move. Click on the The Twitter pic on the right for a
selection of tweets as the news was being discussed on The Twitter.
The Twitter users were doing a massive 'I'm Spartacus'. I checked it out on The Twitter after seeing a TV news report that couldn't tell the viewers who he is, even though everyone knew already, well not EVERYONE, I didn't know. Was easy to find on The Twitter, by searching 'Imogen unknown footballer'. With the knowledge of the unknown footballer's name I wondered who I knew that wouldn't know already and might be interested to know. So I phoned The Mum and she was interested. The Mum was taken aback...'aww it isn't', I said, 'it is'. She was disappointed in him.
Today
Scottish newspaper The Sunday Herald took the unprecedented step of
publishing a photo of the now very well-known footballer with a black
strip over his eyes.And it's pretty damn obvious who he is, The Twitter goss is right.
Why did it take so long for Scottish lawyers to realise, hey wait a minute, these Englander super-injunctions don't apply up here? And why did they feel confident enough to print a pic, but why the eye black-strip and why didn't the article say the name?
The Sunday Herald put it out there in newspaper print on the grounds that they don't publish in, or deliver to, England. They did not however put the item on their website. Curiouser and curiouser. So intriguing.
There's many angles on this topic to be considered. Only the well-off can afford the super-injunctions, us lesser mortals can't. But on the other hand, the phone hacking, private detective activity, the dirty nasty that is behind much of the privacy intrusion does apply to ordinary news story people as well as the rich and famous. It's not easy to decide what side to be on. It's a feckin morality, legal and PC nightmare.
The privacy laws are crap, one way and all the others. Nationally they support the rich and famous, but throw the poor and local-interest-only folks to the wolves. Remember back in 2009, the SJH moonlighting nurse who was outed as a prostitute by Scottish newspaper The Daily Record? That was ugly, I felt so sorry for her, though I never knew her personally. The only information about her case I can find online is that one newspaper article, and no pics, I can only conclude that the www doesn't target the little people but local journos do.
In The Twitter age, it's all predominantly to do with the rich, the famous, and the male of the species. Women get precious little regard. The women are usually the ones trying to kiss and tell (admittedly not a good look for my sex) and the rich men are hoping to get away with it. In conclusion...phone tapping is wrong, anonymous 'sources' are wrong, name the sources. If the journos don't or can't name their sources then they shouldn't be allowed to print the so-called quotes.
The Best Friend was over last night for one of our regular Wine-and-Whines, there was ziltch paparazzi, a lack of mics, hidden or otherwise, zero phone tapping, and absolutely no national interest involved, thankfully. So everything we said will remain secret, phew!
20/05/11good riddance Talk Talk, Silver Haired Fox and The Boy
Same 'if you weren't in the-far-far-away India I would come over and punch you in the face' frustration on my usually mild-mannered non-aggressive part. In the end I couldn't allow Talk Talk to swindle me any more and I ended the call unsatisfied AGAIN, second time. And this call from my mobile! Costing me gazillions of my Scottish pounds to make the call cos the landline was going crrrrrrrrrr and cutting off all the time. I usually end any kind of business/utility conversation having achieved a certain level of happiness, but Talk Talk...you bastards!
Anyways, The Husband has arranged for SKY to take over (any day now), the boy in Bombay probably had that information on a screen in front of him, so why should Talk Talk care. I didn't expect anything would change from the last time I phoned, I was just being silly. Trying to download the latest episodes of my favourite podcasts, and failing miserably, and Bombay Boy couldn't even muster any sort of understanding.
I have a Sunny D Post Office Silver Haired Fox story to tell...regular readers will recall last time he threw me slightly asking if I could purchase him a crossbow on eBay. Today, I dropped in to pick up a parcel that hadn't been delivered due to there being no-one home yesterday. The Silver Haired Fox was out of his cage and looking a tad dangerous. How can I describe this...he was free from the constraints of the usual PO Hannibal Lector secure-glass-fronted Post Office counter. It's always a tad unnerving when he's on the main shop floor. I nearly turned and walked back out, but...then I'd have looked like the strange person if I had, so I braved it out. He told me the parcel I was collecting was big, he told me it was way too big for me to collect, that I was way too small to pick up this parcel. He went on about the size, on and on, I told him if he was telling me the truth I'd get The Boy to pick it up later, but that I thought he was kidding me. The Sunny D shop woman thought he was joking too, given his tongue in cheek carry on. He then cuddled me, that's happened before, but...this time...he also kissed me.
I'm a lot shorter than him, which is a good thing, I kept my head down so the kiss landed somewhere on the left side of my forehead. I'm stood there in my parka, being hugged, with my head strategically held down. The woman at the main shop counter, we call her Hello-Darlin cos she says it a lot in her Cockney accent, was telling him to just give me the parcel. I told The Boy this latest Silver Haired Fox news, it raised a snigger and two eyebrows.
Speaking of The Boy. The Boy News - he had a girlfriend, for maybe approximately a month there...it's all off now. Good. I'd put 2 + 2 together and knew there was a g/f long before he'd admit it. First off I found one of her girly bracelets in his room, he denied it...she's just a pal he told me. Second I saw her chat profile open on his computer screen one night when I'd went in his room to shut it down and he'd fell asleep...she's just a pal he told me again. Thirdly...he told me he had a g/f, cos I was in London and he was being 'honest' in his way of it, though he'd denied my suspicions till I went to London. He phoned me in London to tell me he wasn't going to do it behind my back, could he please invite his g/f into Starry Towers in my absence. The ONE rule I'd laid down before I left him in charge of Starry Towers was NO STRANGERS in Starry Towers. So the answer was no. My Mum AKA the Star Blog "The Mum", AKA his Granny went over in my absence and made damn sure my rules were adhered to. If he thought for a minute that I might be his main concern, he'd forgot that his Mum's Mum is much the same as his Mum, only about 10 times as strict.
When I asked him today why he was single, he told me she'd turned out to be a bit of a 'weirdo'. I knew that, and I hadn't even met her. He's telling me he's on a healthy eating and upping the exercise drive. He's eating wholemeal, raw carrots, apples, grapes, bananas, turkey rashers and tins of beans and vegetarian sausages. Impressive.
17/05/11flight risk and separated at birth?
The Dad has been likened to Sir Walter (if I say it often enough it will happen...his knighthood) since the '80s. Only by the father of The Boy, but when he first said it, then kept up a string of jokes reinforcing the idea, I quickly came round to his thinking. He was right.
When The Boy got in this evening I showed him the photographic evidence and he said...but the hair's not right, I placed my hand over the hair bit on Sir Walter's pics...and The Boy got it.
Sir Walter needs to bite the bald bullet and shave it to a #2 or whatever The Dad does.
Place your fingers over Sir Walters forehead, down to just above his eyebrows...see? I think The Dad is the better looking of the two, with fewer brow wrinkles...but...admit it, they are very similar.
These are the earliest pics of Sir Walter and The Dad I could find, Sir Walter from perhaps the '80s or the '90s? The Dad from the '60s. They share the same handsome bone structure, the determined eyebrows and firm set mouth. And that gorgeous child is me. I look a lot like Sir Walter in this early photie, the same bone structure, eyebrows (though faint) and firm set mouth. And I have exactly the same hair style as my separated-at-birth Uncle Sir Walter. I rest my case.
16/05/11snow, Rangers and Lady GaGa
I'm
so pleased for Walter Smith, Rangers' 54th Scottish League Championship
cup win (and a world record...someone call Guinness right now, this is
more important than Most Consecutive Hawd-Me Backs Without A Fight).Rangers win at the weekend is a perfect retirement gift for this gentleman manager of Scottish football. I always think of The Dad when I think of Sir Walter...they've been look-a-likees since the 1980s, and still similar, in appearance and their dignified silence type decorum.
So it's a reflection on how badly Scottish football has been affected by Neil Lennon this season that Sir Walter makes comment.
'It
seems to me that all of the focus has been deflected from what it should
have been on - players, what they do, who wins, who loses,' said Smith.
'From my own point of view, I hope everybody would realise that people who work in Scottish football - referees included - are always under terrific scrutiny.
'I hope Celtic realise that, if their team is good enough, they will win. 'If they're not good enough, they'll not win - and they can't look at anybody else, whether it is referees or any other influence.'
Walter's words sum up what the poison of Lennon has done to Scottish football, I don't like it, it's nasty and evil, and someone needs to stop his influence before it destroys SPL football.
Someone else who has impressed me in the last few days...Lady GaGa. I watched her Carlisle concert on TV, and her appearance on the Graham Norton Show. Graham Norton got 3 costumes and two songs. She sounded fantastic live at both events, and both performances were show-stopping.
Time to stop pretending, Summer's coming, no more excuses...diet time. For the weather and for the pending hysterectomy. I keep thinking about the surgeon's blade and how I'm going to feel like crap afterwards.
14/05/11Eurovision
That's not nearly enough information, I should've written...I'm ashamed to admit I watch the Eurovision Song Contest AND I watch it for all the wrong reasons. My reasons are :
1 By far the best reason to watch is the cheeky Irish aspect. Terry Wogan was born to voice the ESC, and Graham
3 ditto pleasure witnessing the political strategy of voting for your neighbours
4 Some of the acts are so jaw-droppingly really bad they make Jedward look professional
5 There are a load of folks watching at home in the UK who are really stupid and require frequent reminders that they can
6 in the hope that the UK don't win, bloody expensive business hosting the extravaganza de camp
7 it's so cheezy, it's must-watch cheeze
stern
European country doesn't win every year. Mind wandering, interest waning by the time the entertainment came on as we await the collating of the votes. The entertainment, the man in the checked suit and pork pie hat could've been singing in any language, I still don't know if it was English or German. Interest really waning by the time the results started coming in.
Good to see everyone in the UK voted for the Jedward (see reasons 3 & 6). How many results? I don't know...a lot. This is painful, just want to go to bed. And the, yawn, winner is, yawn....Azerbaijan. They bath in oil in Azerbaijan, where is Azerbaijan? Never mind, we'll find out next year. Elle & Nikki seem astoundingly happy about winning.
Was it worth staying up for? No. Goodnight.
12/05/11allergy misery time of year, no shame, novelty nurse stuff and The Social Network
There
was also a noticeable increase in nasal congestion and nose-blowing.Today at Starry Towers on a day off, even though I was slap bang in the middle of a flowering garden all afternoon, the symptoms were less troublesome and with regular application of Vaseline to the skin around my left eye, that situation is much better too. When I realised how Vaseline was helping so much with the annoying weepy eye and sore red unsightly surrounding skin thing, I started applying it to my fake-tan allergy leg situation too...and I swear Vaseline is proving more beneficial than hydrocortisone cream there.
I've been taking my one-a-day antihistamine tablets for a while. I think I started taking them in good time, in Spring, as advised by Nurse V at my local Health Centre, but maybe I didn't follow the instructions closely enough. Note To Self...in 2012...swallow a one-a-day antihistamine tablet, start in February.
About fake-tan. I tried Garnier Ambre Solaire No-streaks bronzer self-tan velvety gel for fair skin. I'm allergic to it, but it's so good otherwise. Put on a latex glove and apply in a circular motion. Ease of application factor is high, non-streaky is high, natural colour is great, and it's very long lasting. It's a bit sticky-tacky for a while after application, but that's no biggy considering how it gets the other important bits so right. It's not expensive at all, I got mine from Tesco, at the special reduced 1/3 off price, down from £10.20 to £6.80. ASDA has it for £7. And it really does give you velvety soft and smooth skin. If I wasn't allergic I'd be telling you it's the best ever.
I'm going to apply it a second time and use Vaseline regularly, see if I notice any benefit with the Vaseline from an earlier stage.
Really? Was it really? The shame of Scotland?
Was nothing to do with me or the majority of the rest of the over five million of us. It was one Heart of Midlothian fan.
And you can hardly blame him, I'm convinced this is nothing to do with religion, it's that man himself, it's a face only a blind mother could love.
Lennon's assistants were quick to react, right in there in their Hawd-Me-Back roles, good job that man and the other one entering from the left.
Lennon is so angry, the next pic shows he would kick the shit out of 26 year old John Wilson if the Hawd-Me-Back assistants weren't so bloody good at their jobs.
However he should be happy, it's purely due to their excellent Hawd-Me-Back skills that he remains the Guinness World record holder for most consecutive Hawd-Me-Backs without a fight. Though all credit to him, he is world class and totally deserving of the title, it's not the first time his Hawd-Me-Backs have been so classy they involved Police Hawd-Me-Back intervention.
Just a few years ago in 2007, in England, something extremely similar occurred. Chelsea's Frank Lampard was attacked on the pitch by a Tottenham fan. The media did not call it England's shame. I only know about the English version because The Boy told me today while we were discussing the Lennon version.
Ho-hum.
I ordered some novelty nurse items this evening.
A nice fob watch and pens. I'm needing a fob watch all these years later. As a student nurse in 1983 I had a fob watch, a gift from The Parents to mark the occasion of me starting my 3 year long nurse training. For the intervening years it's been fine to wear a wrist watch. But now, it's time to get back to fob watches, it's a hand hygiene hospital acquired/associated infection (HAI) super bug issue. My new blue soft and bendy silicone fob watch boasts a removable quartz watch face, so the silicone fob can be washed and it won't scratch a patient when I have to be up close and personal. I Googled around and found the best price, £9.95, at NurseWatch.co.uk. I paid an extra 99p for a Pulse Counter, making it possible I'll be reading a pulse in 15 heart beats. And when the watch arrives I'll let you know how that works. I also got myself a bumper pack of 9 syringe shaped pens, with a blue fluid fill and black ink, and only £8.95 for the pack. I had one of these very same pens when I was a student nurse. Love it. NurseWatch.co.uk gives free delivery and the option of purchasing through PayPal too for added peace of mind.
07/05/11hawd me back, podcast wedding and Catfish
David Edgar talking about Celtic manager Neil Lennon, suggesting Lennon be in The Guinness Book of World Records for the most consecutive hawd-me-backs without a fight.
The Husband and I watched Catfish this evening. There's two basic ideas on Catfish, it's being touted as a documentary, others believe it's fake, a pseudo-documentary. I think it's a pseudo. I reckon the woman behind the mystery was acting. They all looked like they were acting rather than living a reality. It's all very pseudo-doc and not very doc. The mystery woman is Angela Wesselman-Pierce and there is a website displaying and selling her paintings, but having watched the movie I don't believe it's real. I think it's a very clever and intriguing storyline/sales campaign.
06/05/11voting, phone line troubles return, Major Operation News, The Boy News and I Love You Phillip Morris
I did my voting duty, and I did it thrice. And when I say thrice, I mean there were three issues to vote on, not that I managed to vote in triplicate in an illegal dodgy type way. I think it went like this...Vote #1 - candidate for local MP, Vote #2 for a local council candidate and Vote #3 was for a change in the voting system. I think that was what they were all for anyway, was something like that. I will admit, if I hadn't fecked up on the first set of papers, I would've voted thrice-twice. But I didn't! What happened was, The Husband and I got our postal votes through the door. Long-time readers will know I have a postal vote because I couldn't believe that the tax payers money is spent in yet another outrageous manner, ie providing a postal vote for anyone who asks for it, and decided to test the system. I got my postal vote with no questions asked...shocking. I then got The Husband a postal cos he actually needs one, doesn't mean he wants one, but as a UK citizen who works abroad, he deserves one in my opinion. So there I was with two sets of voting papers in front of me, I signed the box on the first set and realised I'd just signed The Husband's papers. Shit, ripped them up and binned them, then completed the set in my name. So, if I get my way, the voting system will change and the people in charge of my local council and the Scottish Parliament will be...I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you.
Our internet connection is driving me crazy enough to punch someone in the face. It's the same problem from 2010. The phone line is crackling and sometimes cuts off, the tinternet went retarded. It's so slow I can't download all my favourite podcast files because I either loose connection or they time-out. I'm more than annoyed at this disruption to life as I know it. I need my regular feed of podcasts. The Husband was onto it at the first sign of trouble, and had me phoning and demanding a MAC code from my broadband people...Orange, or whatever they're called these days. I've been with them since they were called Freeserve. Orange told me, after I told them to shut-the-feck-up and just give me a MAC code (I was a little bit more polite...I actually said...I don't want to continue this conversation, just give me a MAC code...and after saying it another couple of times, they told me they'd email the MAC code and I could expect to receive it within the next 3 to 5 working days). Arrragghhh!
But anyway...I've been with Talk Talk for the landline for...I don't know, years. And today I entered into the inevitable fault-reporting procedure knowing full-well I was going to get pissed-off, it's inevitable, but I tried to go straight to the man-that-can and phoned BT. A perfectly nice UK sounding guy told me I had to go through my landline provider, no way round it, I had to phone Talk Talk. Shit. So I did...but found that wouldn't possible for a few hours, because they were experiencing problems, their website was down and the faults phone number was telling me to phone back later. Later...a Talk Talk woman in India or somewhere such like, called me the wrong name. You see Talk Talk hold this delusional belief that my surname is a combination of the first letter of my first name, M, and the last five letters the Husband #1 surname. I explained AGAIN my current surname, but told her that's not the issue. She wanted to pass me to the Name-Changing department! They've passed me to them several times before, AND I've sent a letter, but I'm still being called some bastardisation of my Marilyn initial and my ex-husband's surname, but never mind, I told her to call me whatever she wanted, just get me to the place where we can agree to send a BT engineer out. She passed me, and after having to bear a terribly crackly soundtrack of crap music that was so painful I had to hold the phone an arms length away from my ear, I got to the faults department foreign-sounding gentleman, and he made me start jumping through the hoops. I told him straight I know what the problem is and I wanted a BT engineer ASAP, but he told me there are procedures. I wanted to punch him. Even when you tell them you'll pay £100 for the BT engineer call-out charge if you're proved wrong, they just won't let you skip past the hoops. During this part of the phone call I was asked to describe the main socket. I passed the phone to The Husband as I headed back out to continue with my stress-free gardening.
It's to do with the east-side neighbours' trees. They're massive fully grown lovely trees, and that's good, the garden birds at Starry Towers love those trees for nesting and food. However, downside is our BT phone line starts at the top of a phone pole which sits amongst the topmost twigs and branches of the third tree away from Starry Towers. From there it runs through the branches and twigs of another two of the east-side neighbours trees before getting to Starry Towers. The last time this happened the BT engineer who eventually came out after I went through 'procedures', fixed it, just like that. So I went straight to BT, though I don't have any business with them the phone lines belong to them, and it was one of them that sorted it last time.
Last time it was some local phone engineer, a breath of fresh air after all the foreign accented people in countries on the other side of the world and automated messages and press 1, press 3, transferring you to our such and such department, do this, do that. What a relief when eventually, the man who can actually fix it is there fixing it, I even made him a cup of coffee.
The Husband has even less tolerance for shit than I do. He spoke to the foreign-sounding Talk Talk guy for a couple minutes then phoned SKY with the MAC code that had actually come in quicker than the predicted 3 to 5 working days.
So we'll be getting TV, landline and broadband from SKY at some point in the next 14 days. Once SKY kicks in, if the physical phone line/tree problems persist, we're guessing SKY and BT will get it sorted.
Here at Starry Towers there's been a neighbour change. The Goth Teacher first-floor-through-the-wall has gone. Just like that, she never said. I've been told by her replacement, an opportunity to work abroad came up and she took it. Which sounds totally Goth Teacher, she was forever spending 6 weeks in Thailand, Goa, Australia or such like. The new neighbours are a single woman and her 20 year old son. I'll have to decide on Blog nicknames for them once I know more about them. So far the lady seems very nice, and quiet, no noisy mad parties on school nights I so frowned upon.
I have big news on on the gene/cancer front. Regular readers will be aware of The Mum's genetic increased cancer risk and our current gene-research involvement. Every two years a bowel specialist sticks a camera up my arse. Last time, which was the 2nd time, they found a polyp that presumably wasn't there 2 years before, and removed it. That was extremely painful but also strangely, a good thing. Sore, but I'm so glad they did it. The other aspect of this genetic cancer research thing is every year the Gynae folks are slightly less invasive, they only stick a needle in a vein for the cancer-markers blood test, CT-scan my lower abdomen (internally too) and, the worst bit...they pass a medical instrument through my cervix, snip a bit of uterus lining and test that for cancer cells. That cervix/womb invasion is a bit painful, but hey ho, I remind myself...no-where near as horrendous as the sedation-free colonoscopy.
Today I was invited to meet with a Gynae doctor, just a couple months after my last Gynae screening. I had no idea why, but I did worry they were going to tell me I didn't merit all these expensive tests and they would want to reduce or even stop it. But no, I shouldn't have fretted. This lovely man told me how apart from the PAP Smear Test, which I get routinely every 3 years as part of the national screening program for cervical cancer and nothing to do with the genetic program, the testing they are currently able to offer me, are all cancer-finding tests. The Smear Test finds pre-cancerous cells and is a great tool, but the latest health & science falls way short of that for the uterus and ovary type cancers.
Then he explained he was offering me the choice to reduce the Gynae cancer risks big time. I can reduce the risk of cervix and uterus cancers by 100%, and the ovarian cancers by 97%. He offered me a Total Hysterectomy with bilateral Salpingo-Oophorectomy. I knew my answer immediately. I'm scared and dreading it, and sad, and I want to run away and not think, let alone face it, but I knew my answer right away. Of course I should have a hysterectomy, a total one, along with removal of the tubes and ovaries. OMG!
It's either that or he'll be offering me the same operation plus chemotherapy and/or radiotherapy in years to come once cancer sets in. It's a no-brainer.
In the last year I've had a lot of disruption to my previously extremely regular menstrual cycle, so I'm aware that my menopause is upon me, this seems to have been a trigger for the Gynae folks to bring it on. Might as well get it done with one operation, by the time I leave the theatre I will definitely be menopausal cos there will be no ovaries/tubes/womb/cervix/hormones. And most important...cancer can't happen in the lining of a womb that got chucked out, same goes for a cervix that got binned. Ovarian cancer will still be possible, though greatly reduced, because of primary peritoneal cancer, which acts just like ovarian cancer and is treated similarly. Peritoneal cancer may result from ovarian cells that migrated to the peritoneal area during each menstrual cycle before ovaries were removed. These cells can become cancerous later on. Alternatively, since the peritoneum and ovaries arise from the same tissues during embryonic development, it's possible that cancer could arise from the cells of the peritoneum.
But still, I like them odds. I'm just shitting myself. It's a major operation, with total knock-you-out anaesthesia, an invasive surgical cut to the body...with resulting biggish wound and risk of HAI (Hospital Associated Infection), and a lot of recovery time...at least 3 months off work. If there's bladder or bowel damage when they do the op, the off work recuperation time will be even longer than 3 months. I had to clarify...
...I asked him, if bladder or bowel damage is done...your telling me it will be fixed there and then? The only bad thing will be a longer R&R sick line? He told me yes...hmmmm...I'm almost wishing for...
...but I'm not really.
The Boy News : my little cherub has a g/f. And he's involved...and I have a new scary worry, obvious to all young men's mothers, I don't have to spell it out here. OMG! Discussing it with work colleagues...one of them said if The Boy was dating her sexually active teenage step-daughter and I asked about the contraception method employed by her sexually active step-daughter, she said she'd slap me. I think she's being emotionally unreasonable. Just because my child is the male...in this CSA, DNA testing and Jeremy Kyle day and age, I'm allowed to be just as concerned for my child who's life could be just as badly ruined by an unwanted pregnancy.
Wey aye pet, you think the Americans will understand a word the sackless lass says? Nah, gees anither sang, divvent dee that man, I telt ye, tak a hike, get oot, yer a gowk and good-neet...I see a few accent problems ahead.
The Husband and I watched I Love You Phillip Morris this evening. It's so good...how good, you may ask. It's so good, The Husband really liked it, then hated himself for liking a gay movie with lots of gay kissing. I liked Jim Carrey, but I totally adored Ewan McGregor. Ewan McGregor got back from the manly activity of motorbiking over extreme terrain in hostile countries and doing manly stuff, then he kissed a guy, and he really looked like he was lovin it. What a great actor he's turned out to be. I only detected his Scottish accent once. When he first meets Jim Carrey it slips in, for a few seconds, at the end of a sentence. Great movie and Ewan McGregor's best bit of acting ever, including his bit of Trainspotting.
02/05/11big big Religious Zealot News, Happy Birthday to The Husband, lawn loser, and The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets' Nest
Religious
Zealot News : I'm more than happy that Osama Bin Laden is dead.
My first thought was, jeeez now the Muslim extremist lot will go crazy,
but know what? They're already crazy, and they'll do what they'll
do anyway. Whether Bin Laden lived or died, these guys want me
dead, I'd rather the USA publicly bitch-slapped them than not.But if one more person asks me if I've heard Bin Laden's dead...I heard the news at 6 this morning. Last person to ask me was The Boy coming in about 10pm...'have you hea'...YES! The Boy has the Bin Laden Dead wallpaper on his iPhone, I wasn't expecting that. Obama, not to be confused with Osama...I did this, I did that, I gave instructions, I decided to...showing powerful leadership skills and honest ownership or...a bit braggy? Yep, came across to me like he was in a helicopter in Pakistan today too.
Millionaire son of a business tycoon, and feckin bloody madman. Only 55 too, that's a surprise, but foot-long greying beards are very aging and I find, evil incarnate always adds a few years. If he were still alive and captured, imagine the carry-on, the expense, the outrageous behaviour by the do-gooders protesting and demanding his human rights. HIS human rights, a mass murderer, but no doubt his cell would've been too small, or his right to express himself in 140 characters or less...@BinLaden...would've been an absolute necessity, or maybe he'd need to have his own barber flown in. And it could've went on for years, he may have died of old age in captivity.
Yes, dead and buried at sea was the right way to go. Sleeps with the fishies, good enough for him, though the idea that particles of him might see their way into my fish-eating food-chain is a bit disturbing. Lets not give all them mad people a place to go and set themselves on fire, ie a Bin Laden burial site, it's for their own good really. This way, when they enter an ocean, the water will put them out and they'll have to go home just a little singed at the edges and feeling rather silly.
I simply adore a good successful special forces story. The USA Navy Seals, the SAS, even the Mossad. Real life action men, heroes one and all, clever, skilled, resourceful, brave, just a smidgeon of Charlie Sheen crazy, and to my mind, to a man, handsome and fit like Hollywood movie stars.
You wouldn't marry one, but you'd enjoy a few if you had the chance...or is that just me? Good w
ork boys.Was a bit of a mind-tussle, which main news to lead with on the Star Blog today, it's the death day of Bin Laden, but also, the birthday of The Husband. Happy Birthday to The Husband. I treated him to a track day at Knockhill and he got Moonpigged with a nod to our recent London trip.
The Husband was out of bed and away in a hire van, heading over to pick up The Brother, on route to the track, before I'd even got out of bed to get ready to go to work. The Husband and The Brother spent the day on their race bikes zooming round Knockhill. The Husband reported back that this was the best track day...ever! And he said Awesome!, a lot.
His first time out on his new Yamaha R1.
He's only raced on R6's before, but word has it this year will be the
year of the return of 2008 endurance champions BlackFlag Racing...on
R1s.My new job title isn't Lawn Keeper, it's Lawn Loser, I've got practically no grass.
It's my own doing of course, I've treated the Starry Towers Lawn with EverGreen Complete Lawn Food, Weed and Moss Killer. I got a big bag, 360 sq m + 10% extra free for £20, delivered to the door for nought of my Scottish pounds, thank you Amazon.
Currently all evidence is that this product is brilliant at killing, the lawn is now mostly black patches of deadness with some scrappy bare patches of withered.
I'm just waiting now to see the feed benefits at a later date, fingers crossed an' all that. The lawn had went practically all to moss and that was annoying me. I now realise years of my grass-inaction have probably led to lawn starvation, the grass gets weak and the moss and weeds go crazy. My bad.
Next good weather day I'm off work I'll be out there on my knees with my new little hand rake, raking and ripping out the dead stuff. Then it'll be time to bring out the Miracle-Gro Patch Magic
I will provide the photographic evidence and, Saturn and Demeter willing, I'll be amazed at the transformation in the before and after shots.
The Husband and I watched The Girl That part 3. I loved the first when she had a dragon tattoo, and part 2 when she played with fire, that maintained the excitement and intrigue. Kicking the hornets' nest, though alright, did tend to come across as an hour and a half of tying up loose ends and making sure the truth will out and offer up a happy ever after, or rather, as much happy as a damaged young spiky hard-nut from a Scandinavian country can be expected to muster.
28/04/11London gives me a Circus, a Tower and some lovely new relatives and my wedding dress designer prediction
So The Husband and I went last weekend.When I finished work after a half day shift on the Friday we headed down in The Z4. With ever improving weather as we headed southwards, top down, music blasting, it was a pleasure.
We stayed Friday night at the luxury Menzies Welcombe Hotel Spa & Golf Club somewhere in the Engerland countryside near Stratford-upon-Avon. Standing in 157 acres of beautiful grounds, with formal and informal gardens, a couple water features...the fountain and a pond with ducks...this mansion house was commissioned in 1866 by Mark Philips, a wealthy Manchester Cotton Manufacturer, High Sherrif and Member of Parliament (MP). It was built by Thomas Newby in a Neo Jacobean style to designs by architect Henry Clutton.
History lesson over, it's an extremely pleasant place to eat and sleep. A bit fancy with it's restaurant dress code, but still, I give it the Starry Seal of Approval. The receptionist lady of non-recognisable nationality told us if The Husband didn't fancy changing into a shirt for dinner there were hot and cold meals available in the oak panelled lounge till 10pm. The oak panelled lounge also offers the option of patio dining over-looking the impressive gardens. We dropped the luggage off in the room and loaded with warm feelings of worthiness and an-tis-i-----pation we headed to the lounge. Where a young female member of staff of most probably Eastern European origin told us...no.
We asked politely if we could dine in the lounge, she said no, only in the restaurant. We asked her if we could order meals in the lounge and eat on the patio over-looking the impressive and very beautiful gardens and water features, she told us no. We asked if we could go out onto the patio from the lounge, she said...no, only through the restaurant. We told her the receptionist of unrecognisable nationality told us we could, she told us no, only in the restaurant. Exasperated we turned to the now available bar steward and asked of him the same basic question, would it be possible in the lounge, to order food and have it served on the patio, he smiled yes. I turned to the probably Eastern European female member of staff and told her triumphantly...the man from behind the bar, he says yes. I'm still puzzling over why she casually answered all our enquiries in the negative and can only conclude she must not understand English, beyond the words 'food' and 'restaurant', or maybe she doesn't actually work there, but dresses like a member of staff and deliberately lies to confuse the customers.
Saturday morning we were off again, top down, and to the tunes of Katy Perry and Lady GaGa, with a little Amy Winehouse, White Stripes and Plan B, we arrived at our Blackheath destination in London. We were there to visit The Husband's cousin Norman and his wife Margaret. These family are retired teachers and the first members of The Husband's family I've met so far. It's complicated on The Husband's family side of things what with all of them living in either England or Holland. When Margaret showed me, in good teacher style, maps of London to help me understand where I was, I immediately recognised, I was to the south of the Eastenders Thames loop. I'm very familiar with the Eastenders Thames loop, it's all...da da da dum dum dee dum, dum dum dum dum dum, dee dum dum dum dum dum dummmm...easy.
With introductions and a look around the local area over, that first evening we took advantage of the obvious. There was a big top on Black Heath, the circus had come to town, right out front of The Retired Teacher Cousin's house. We went to Zippos Circus, the horse-power version, with the unexpected animal rights protestors at the gate. I thought the Animal Welfare Act 2006 had sorted out circus-related cruelty to animals. But then there was the recent Anne the elephant shock horror story. Horses and budgies are the only animals in this circus, so I was genuinely surprised to see the two protesting women. They're really needing to re-think their protesting strategy. They weren't there a couple hours earlier when we dropped by to purchase our tickets. If they could've swayed us, it certainly wouldn't have been after we'd parted with the ticket money. And anyway, they ought to visit budgie-owners up and down the country and demand the caged birds be returned to Budgie Land immediately, and maybe the Big Fat Gypsy Wedding gang and take a look at how they treat their horses. Because from what I saw on that TV show, them pikies don't treat their horses with anywhere near as much regard and care. But then again, their women folk and girl children don't get any sort of respect either.
Zippos has a famous Ring Master, The World's Greatest Living Ring Master no less. Mr Norman Barrett MBE, he of 60 years plus Ring Master experience and his renowned World Famous Budgie act. He's also been an unsuspecting subject of Michael Aspel's 'big red book' when he was caught out for 'This Is Your Life' in 1990. At the time I didn't know we were in the presence of such fame.
Ring Master Barrett MBE, AKA Living Legend Barrett, does have an air about him. His face is vaguely familiar, his voice too, and his manner with the paying public was adorable. In the interval he came around and finding The Husband trying to spin a plate he spent some time with us, giving an demonstration and tutorial on how to spin a plate and then he asked us...are you enjoying it, are you having a good time? My heart went out to this septuagenarian gent, for him and the fading popularity of his lifetime's dedication. I'm a little in love with Ring Master Barrett MBE. On the subject of spinning plates...I can do it...sometimes, and I'm the best of all of our circus visiting party of 4. Ring Master Barrett MBE told us, place the plate lip edge on the stick, allow the plate to start circling naturally atop the stick, then get faster, it's all in the wrist action. I managed it a few times back at The London Cousin's town house and as soon as we got back to Starry Towers I tried again. I've been able to pass the spinning plate to a finger tip and back to the stick and also, to throw it up from the stick and catch it again on the stick. It's my new party trick. Oh yes Mr Barrett, I headed your words, and with just a little more practice I'll have the option of leaving the world of nursing stress behind and I'll be running away to join the circus.
A major feature of the circus was the multi-tasking, especially amongst the younger females. One minute they might be a popcorn vendor, the next they're swinging on a trapeze (no safety net) or dancing around doing ta-daaa in way of introducing the next act.
The animal horse-power comes from the world’s most famous equestrian presenter Yasmine Smart, grand-daughter of the legendary Billy Smart. Yasmine performs with her five year old Andalusian stallion Diamond, Hercules, the smallest horse in the UK and her four stunning Palominos, the Palominos look like caricature images of beautiful Swedish blondes. But the absolute highlight of the circus has to be the n
on-equine
horse-power. WOW! the Brazilian Lucius Team and their ‘Globe
of Death’. Three motorbikes are ridden at high speed inside a
steel cage, along with a show girl who stands smiling as bikes race at
70 mph past her head. The bikers are in leathers and helmets,
she...she's in a skimpy showgirl outfit.And The Husband had a candy floss, even after I'd nibbled on a few strands at it's edges and he crammed massive big compressed chuncks in his mouth, the majority of it went in a bin, candy floss is a seriously sugar guilty pleasure only to be experienced twice (at very most) in a life-time.
After the circus, back at The London Cousin's house we enjoyed a lovely meal prepared by The London Cousin's wife. I had my first Raclette. The Swiss dish of potatoes with melted cheese, served with sliced meats and pickles. The Raclette cheese melted under a Raclette grill placed in the middle of the table. We each had a small dish to melt our own cheese slices, and a little wooden scraping tool to scrape the cheese onto our plates. Given that The London Cousin's wife also provided fresh fruit salads for sweet each time and a traditional Easter roast leg of lamb, home-made roast potatoes, broccoli, carrot batons, gravy and mint sauce for Easter dinner the next evening...when they come to visit Starry Towers...I suspect they're going to maybe be just perhaps, a little disappointed.
We was very close to Greenwich and The Thames, so on Easter Sunday The Cousins showed us the historical Greenwich highlights before leaving us to take a Thames clipper boat trip up to Tower Bridge. This was at my request because I wanted to visit the Tower of London.
In Greenwich we had a look at Indigo Jones' Queens House, Christopher Wren's Greenwich Hospital buildings (Old Royal Naval College) and a wander in The Painted Hall with it's interior design courtesy of James Thornhill.
The Cousin bid us check out the Pearly Queen. The old dear wearing an outrageous ostrich-feather hat had to be more Pearly Queen-Mother than Queen. The Pearly experience came with a Pearly King and a Pearly taxi cab. Good on them, they were collecting for Great Ormond Street Hospital...allegedly.
The Tower of London is worth visiting, though absolutely full of foreigners, some of them torn-faced individuals, and they don't all do queues well, I got bumped out the way in the queue for the jewels. A man just took it upon himself to get nearer the front of the queue, walked right past me before I knew what was happening. I wasn't happy bout that and took a step out to that side, immediately his female companion followed and pushed me aside rushing forward to join him. I called out...ach! dinnae dae that! I thought the Scottish vernacular and accent would maybe serve me well in the circumstances. They didn't even look back, so I've no idea what nationality to be most pissed off at.
The Crown Jewel thing...let me warn you, you see the queue outside the Waterloo Barracks, you reckon, ach, we're here now, it doesn't look too bad, have to see them. You join the queue, in our experience we got to the front of the queue in 5-10 minutes. You enter the building...THEN...you see you're still queuing. They wind you round this room like you're in a Post Office or Dole Office queue. You get to the front of that queue, step into the next room, expecting the jewels, and they do it to you again. You eventually get to the jewel room, I think it was about 45 minutes, but by this time I'd lost the will to look at my turquoise Toy Watch anymore. One of the rooms they wind you round is extremely hot and stuffy, lacking in air conditioning, you will have to fan yourself and if you have any sort of chronic medical condition you'll most likely have to phone yourself an ambulance. And then we were in the presence of the world's largest diamond and some crowns. You hurry past the glass exhibit cases with capes and what not, seeking 'The Crown Jewels'. where the hell are the little bastards...so you rush to the main event, and suddenly you're on a conveyor belt. It travels at quite a pace, no time to take in the main event...you could if you wished get off the other end and go stand on a platform above the Crown Jewels and take a longer look...but by that time, really...who cares, you're mostly just wanting to get out of there ASAP, and we did. I've seen them.
I had a much longer look at the Ravens. I dallied over the Ravens. I worried about them too. The animal rights protestors target Zippos Circus, with it's two domesticated breeds, but they are totally absent at the Tower and the wild breed being abused there. If the Ravens leave The Tower the monarchy will fall...allegedly. There's no danger the Ravens will take off. A load of them are in a cage, and the three we watched out on a lawn area spent their time walking. Hmmm, that was well suspect. I told The Husband, them birds can't fly, they've done something to them, clipped their wings most likely. The Husband said I was wrong, the Ravens stay because they're being fed and treated well. Hmmm.
I asked the first warden guy I met, and let me tell you, he wasn't too happy at me. I'd turned to The Husband and asked, they are Ravens aren't they? He told me they were Jackdaws. So I said to the Tower warden guy...about your Jackdaws, if they leave then the monarchy will fall, but they can't leave the Tower, their wings are clipped? The warden said...Jackdaws, Jackdaws???! He rolled his eyes and turned away, he weren't pleased. I said, that was The Husband's fault, they're Ravens aren't they? He agreed. I had to put the question again, he was being evasive. The wings are clipped, so the Ravens can't leave the Tower. He said...if the monarchy falls that would be bad, I'd be out of a job, it wouldn't be good for the country and you'd have no-where to visit lassie. He'd took to mimicking a Scottish accent by the end of his speech.
I briefly found that inappropriate and offensive, but I wanted just one question answered and didn't wish to get into a discussion about his anti-Scottish racism, or my belief that the monarchy is a waste of tax payers money we can no longer afford, nor that the oft repeated Royalist argument that the Royal family bring the tourist revenue in is a fallacy, the tourists would still come for the history. The tourists don't go home with photos of them meeting the Royals, they go home with mementoes of their visits to the historic buildings. So anyways, I did what I do well, I stuck to my point and annoyed him further. The Ravens...wings clipped, yes or no? He said no. In disbelief I pushed the issue, ach come on, you've done something to them, birds don't walk when they can fly. He turned away from making eye contact with me, looked shifty and embarrassed and mumbled...the flight feathers are removed. 'Wings clipped', 'flight feathers removed'...same difference from what I understand. He ought to be ashamed.
On the subject of the latest Royal marriage, predicted to cost the UK economy £5bn, that's 5 billion. Due to the PH aspect. Then there's the price of the security to police the event. And no-one is expecting this Royal marriage to fair any better than the others that have gone before. I do, I promise to love and honour etc, well at least till Prince William decides to do something else instead. Good luck Kate, you'll need it.
My wedding dress designer prediction is...Victoria Beckham, William will be in dark trousers and a red jacket and her Maj will wear lemon.
Loads of photies from our London trip still to sort out, they'll be on The UK Gallery page once I get it done. And by the way, the Invisible Zinc Jet Set Tan spray...I'm allergic, the hunt goes on.
19/04/11faking it again and SAW The Final Chapter
There's
a few little purchases on
The Star Swag
Blog, well, it's been ages since I shopped, I'm such an
austerity measures fan. Really, I deliberately didn't shop for a
fortnight.I tried my new fake tan product for the first time today. As regular readers will know I'm a sensitive soul on many levels. One of my most sensitive areas is my skin, I have allergies and immune system issues. One of the most bothersome ones has been the allergic reaction I developed approximately a decade ago to fake tanning products. I'd used them for a good long while with no problems, then one day, red itchy rash on my legs. As the tan faded and I treated the rash with moisturisers and mild cortisone creams all would be fine for a while. But as time went on I noticed the worst effected patches on my lower legs would also flare up when no fake tan was being used, in times of stress they'd kick in of their own accord.
As you'd imagine I wasn't exactly happy bout this turn of events and self-diagnosed yet another immune/allergy disorder. But in an ever increasing desperation to be a stranger to peally-whally milk bottle white legs in yer typical Scottish Summer I'd research fake tan products over the years, always hoping for one that was different. And I think I've found it. Aussie brand Invisible Zinc has replaced the usual chemical DHA active ingredient with Erythrulose, a vegetable derivative that, they promise 'won't dry the skin'.
Couple weeks ago I tested first on the soft sensitive inner forearm/wrist skin...no problem, so I did a full leg job. I'm reporting here more than 24 hours after the leg application and all is well. Tan on my legs and no rash or itch. Only problem is a bit of streaking on my right shin, but I can get better at applying as I go on. Hurrahhh! I can fake tan again.
I wasn't so clever with the new NHS uniform. I'd read online reports of the new national uniform causing rashes, and I read the bit paper my uniforms came with advising a couple washes before wear. But I was too ironing-shy to bother with that, if you wash it, you've got to iron it, and obviously I'm now one of the rashy nurses. First day of wearing the nape of my neck started getting bumpy and itchy, after three more days wear the rash is now all down my back. That'll learn me for being so silly.
The Boy and I watched SAW The Final Chapter this evening. We're both big SAW fans, it's been a great franchise while it lasted. And even though they say this is the last...of course, they could start up again anytime, they made sure of that.
18/04/11Glasgow Rangers podcast and Talking In Your Sleep
The Glasgow Rangers podcast is controversial and totally non-PC, so don't go there if easily offended. But they are so funny, I can't stop going there, and there's 31 episodes so far. A bunch of Glaswegian (or there abouts) Rangers fans with author David Edgar helming. I've learnt that David Edgar launched his book '21st Century Blue', the story of one man’s love affair with his football club, in February. I have actually done the LOL thing while alone listening to this podcast, and I'm only up to episode 5. It's kinda like a secret pleasure listening to funny and intelligent (enough) Glaswegians saying it the way it is with not a care for modern day worries the rest of us suffer from. Who we might be offending, what 'ist' we might be guilty of, these guys don't seem at all troubled by such nonsense. They use words that would get me hung. It's my latest favourite podcast for the pure joy of their personal freedom. And did I mention, they are very funny.
The song Talking In Your Sleep by Crystal Gayle was on the radio. We were all assisting patients with dinner and I found myself quietly deliberating over the lyrics for the first time.
She's like The Dream Police isn't she!
Consider this...
Maybe I'm bein' foolish
'Cause I haven't heard you mention
Anybody's name at all
How I wish I could be sure
It's me that turns you on
Each time you close your eyes
I've heard it said that dreamers never lie
She's putting a bit too much faith in the old saying, dreamers never lie. No? You can't trust and believe every word a sleeping person says, just as you can hardly accuse a sleeping person of lying, lying is a deliberate act, a more accurate saying would be...dreamers never talk sense...because dear Crystal...they is bloody SLEEPING!
I dream positively hunners of stuff that isn't true, why just recently I woke up one day a little in love with Alan Davies.
Evidence that sleep brain activity is powerful, I'm still talking bout that particular bout of sleep, I'm still doing that because I still feel a lovely warm comfort when I hear his voice or think of him. But evidence that I am not voluntarily and fully consciously actually in love with Alan Davies, I haven't started stalking him and still haven't, pre or post that particular dream episode, ever watched a single episode of Jonathan Creek. It was just my brain doing it's own thing while in a state of suspended consciousness, it's involuntary.
I said to my entirely female work colleagues at hand...that Crystal Gayle, she's like The Dream Police. A debate ensued where they all totally disagreed with my thinking and said if partners mentioned another woman's name while sleeping, they'd all be variously, upset, furious and/or violent towards the newly awakened and somewhat surprised partner. Is it really possible I'm the only sensible person in my world?
14/04/11Libya
Zee World Police meet in Paris for talks on Libya.
Previous World Police involvement took a different approach in 2004 and 2007 with Tony Blair cozying up to Gaddafi, Tony looked ecstatic, Gaddafi looked like he was barely tolerating the grinning fool by his side.
Musa Kusa (snigger) defected and left his family behind. His wife is currently being interrogated by forces loyal to Gaddafi. What a real gentleman he is, oh no, sorry he's not, he's actually a self-serving evil sociopath bastard.
All I'm suggesting is, hot supermodel wives might or might not be beneficial in keeping the world's self-serving bastards in check.
13/04/11Buddy Christ, diet doc, Edinburgh Zoo and Buried
I've
had a religious experience, I've found Jesus, on eBay. Red Hot
Comics in Glasgow are Scotland's leading comic shop and they've got an
eBay shop.I've got me a Buddy Christ to keep me from temptation and watch over me. He's happy, he's scrappy, he's the son of god. With a cheeky wink and a big thumbs up, he makes me feel all is well.
This is the View Askew 5" personal portable saviour inaction figure of Buddy Christ from Kevin Smith's movie Dogma. One of my favourite movies of all time.
Need to try and find an Allah inaction figure now, they're not so easy to track down.
As I'm currently sorting out the Winter weight gain...I'm thinking a half stone, I've not totally went to seed...I was very interested when I read an orgasm burns 200 calories.
But only for a split second...obviously. If this were true, certain vibrating devices would be sold as diet aids. But Israeli-born medical man Dr Arie Oren was using this as his main chat-up line at his Conshohocken Weight Control clinic in Pennsylvania. Enough ladies were fooled to get their kit off for his 'fat-busting' massages with his hands and electronic devices. At some stage in the 'treatments' at least 6 of them realised it was all a big fat con and they were actually being sexually assaulted. Dr Oren's out on $100,000 bail charged with four counts of aggravated indecent assault and eight counts of indecent assault against him.
I know, I know, it's easy to be swayed by the desperate hope that you can get slim without actually having to put in a big effort, but really ladies, d'oh!
Prostitute Helen Wood who previously revealed the most recent of Wayne Rooney's shagging around...she's not the leather clad granny, she's the other one...has been gagged by a super injunction. This time it's some world-known actor, a married man with child(ren), who's had his blushes saved for him by judge Mr Justice King. Justice King...great name for a judge. This actor is one of more than 30 celebrities who have won similar legal protection in the past two years. Of the 30, it's known there's seven footballers, 10 film or television personalities and five pop stars that have taken legal action to prevent their sordid secrets being revealed in the press. Rich people can have affairs or pay for sex then pay a load more to keep it secret. Freedom of speech is gone and the usual social constraints that help to keep people on the straight and narrow means morality goes right out the window.
It's a ridiculous nonsense the legal system allows them public figures to do morally wrong stuff while fooling their adoring public (that ultimately pays their wages) that they're being good. We're being treated like idiots by lying bastards and the law says...yeah give us legal types some of your money and we'll keep it sweet for you, wink wink, nudge nudge.
Edinburgh Zoo's becoming a regular feature on here and always in a name and shame type way. Hence forth I'll be referring to it as the ZIA (Zoo Intelligence Agency).
ZIA News...the results are in, the post mortem on the captured beaver that died recently at the ZIA headquarters found it was death from septicaemia, after a splinter of plant material in a leg led to bacteria entering her little beaver wound. Reflects very badly on the ZIA vets I'd say. An animal dies from septicaemia and they don't know it till there's a post mortem? Hmmm. What with all the bosses being suspended pending investigation or resigning pending investigation, there would seem to be a lack of leadership at the ZIA...I know the very man for the job.
If Musa Kusa (laugh) comes back I propose he be offered the job and title Head Of The ZIA. The post will allow for, and positively encourage, a bunch of lying, deceiving and organising secret 'hits' on as many of his charges as he wishes, while publicly portraying an international figure of normalization of relations between Edinburger Zoo and many NATO nation zoos. Permanent residence in Scotland for him and all members of his close and extended family is included, of course, that's not something we only offer to just the rich and infamous. There would be the necessary 24/7 security as there is a little bit of risk that some Lockerbie residents might write letters of complaint to their MP. In post the Head Of The ZIA will be expected to make amends with the Chinese Panda people and bring them black and white bears over to save the flagging ZIA. Given that he upset the Panda people quite badly in 2009, criticising their "invasion of the African continent", this manoeuvre will involve a hefty back-hander of money or maybe explosives, the Chinese do like their fireworks. He's a very resourceful man, he'll sort it.
The Boy and I watched Buried this evening. A movie that makes you want to talk, not one for the cinema. There's loads of questions raised, like for instance, really...would a box that size contain enough O2 to keep a panicking man and his Zippo lighter alive for 90 minutes? Just as well I watched it with The Boy and not The Husband, The Husband doesn't permit talking during movies, we talked all the way through, you couldn't not talk. It's a man in a box with a mobile phone and a Zippo. All the way through we were urging him to do the One Inch Punch like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill: Vol. 2. But he never did.
12/04/11new NHS Scotland uniform and goodbye Musa Kusa (chuckle)
The
new NHS Scotland uniform has at long last reached me personally.
The nation-wide phasing-in began in November 2009 and the complete
changeover across all boards is expected to be done by 2012. For a
while now I've watched as growing numbers of colleagues around me got
the new stuff, till on a typical day everyone had the new blues and I'd
be the sole whitey in the bunch.My new ones arrived today, in the afternoon mail delivery, so it came as quite a surprise. I was so enthused I immediately changed my tunic. I didn't bother changing trousers, cos to be honest, the new trews are near-on the same shade as the old, no-one would notice, and the old style are slightly more flattering. The new trousers, across the board are the same shade of really dark blue, and have an extremely unflattering baggy cut.
I'm chuffed to bits to announce my optimistic ordering of the 'small short' top and 'extra small' bottoms, fit.
The Scottish parliament says of the new uniform, "the pride on the inside is now shown on the outside". OK. Yes I appreciate the colour. Previously as a staff nurse, I wore a totally white tunic, now I have a much more attractive blue, and of the three blues that the various members of a nursing team wear, it is by far the best. Nursing Assistants have a pale washed out blue, and charge nurses have a dark inky blue. Us staff nurses get this vibrant zingy blue. Of the three blue shades, this is the only one I might even feasibly ever purchase in a garment intended for The Starry Towers Walk-In Wardrobe personal fashion usage. The rest of them are slightly jealous.
The one best thing about the new uniform is that it's national, won't matter which hospital you visit, you will learn who's who easier because it'll be the same all across Scotland. I do recall when The Dad was ill in a different Scottish health board hospital back in the 80's, when I was but a student nurse, I visited him to see the Charge Nurse in the same grey uniform domestics wore in my health board.
Apart from the nation-wide colours, the new tunics have 3 other basic differences from the old. One change for the better, but two for the worse. The fabric is lighter, good. However...
...pockets. The old had breast pockets, for my pens, scissors and pen-torch, stuff with a handy pocket clip. The stuff I need immediately at hand, the stuff that handily slips in and out of breast pockets. I know it's going to take ages, probably at least a year, before my natural instinct, formed from 28 years of reaching to a breast pocket for pen/scissors/torch to stop. But I accept that's a reasonable ask. Breast pockets are, research says, dangerous. You reach over the top of a patient you could conceivably scratch or gouge an eye out, probably. Though in 28 years I never have. I tend to not press my breasts on people's faces. Well, not at work anyway.
...basic design. The zip front is gone and the new tunic is an over-the-head style. Fine if your putting it on clean and fresh at the start of a shift. But what if you just got body fluids sprayed across your top? What if your covered in blood/shit/vomit? Would you like to pull that up and over your head? Zipping down and stepping out is a far better option.
Why did they not think of that? In really bad cases of body fluid contamination I predict some staff will have to be cut from their tunics.
Musa Kusa (snigger) is off to to Doha to attend tomorrow's first formal
meeting of the Libya Contact Group. A British Foreign Office
spokesman said Musa Kusa (titter) was a "free individual who can travel
to and from the UK as he wishes". Really? So predictable, so predictable even I predicted it, the UK government claimed he wouldn't get special treatment, no immunity from prosecution for his almighty crimes against humanity. I said...yeah well, we'll see how that works out.
Days later, despite the Lockerbie lot wanting him and apparently getting him for questioning, and the Irish really wanting for questioning re Semtex...off he goes back in the general direction from whence he came. He probably found he didn't like it here after all.
Anyone seriously think he'll come back anytime soon?
09/04/11Edwyn Collins, Edinburgh Zoo mystery and Bonny Lass makes her 2nd Jeremy Kyle appearance
Then it was all about CDs and I got a the Sony Discman ESP D-240. Still got them, both in full working order and perfect condition. But that's nothing, I've still got my 1970s Grundig Party-Boy 'Pocket' (if you've got big pockets) Radio The Parents gave me when I was but a child. Still functioning and it would be perfect if The Boy hadn't broke the top most tip section of the aerial off in a wanton act of vandalism when he was a toddler, circa 1995. I've also still got my only vinyl purchase, I'm that kinda gal.
The only other vinyl I have is the 1991 The Divinyls I Touch Myself 7" single (B side...Follow Through), but that was a gift from some boyfriend cos he already had it and I wanted it.
Years later I bought the Edwyn Collins CD Gorgeous George, for the song A Girl Like You, and I'm ashamed, retrospectively, to admit that's the extent of my collection. When I saw him on Twitter it all came flooding back, the '80s and train trips, Lanark to Glasgow and back again. Doing a Business Management degree with L.O.V.E Love in my head. In my head because I didn't have a gadget to listen to back then.
So last night I checked my iPod and realised I didn't have You Can't Hide Your Love Forever in mp3 format. I rectified the problem at Play.com, £6.99 for the entire album in mp3 totally compatible with every mp3 player and not that extremely annoying iTunes crap version. This is another landmark in my music life, my first mp3 album download. Of course, with my OCD an' all, I much prefer to buy the CD and rip my own, but I couldn't find the CD version at a reasonable price.
Full of the joys of reminiscing my much younger times gone by, I went to the Edwyn Collins website. He's got a fantastically good looking and massively welcoming, user-friendly website, of which I am now a member, as my profile (Starry Towers) on there will prove. You should check it out. I watched videos of his latest stuff and he has a Twitter Feed link on the main page. Because I tweeted him and he twitted me back, his twot was briefly on his website's home page. In my limited experience, there's not many famous people twat back let me tell you. Andrew Collins ignores me, as does Richard Herring, even my #1 author friend who signed and sent me his unpublished novel, he didn't reply to my twut to him, I was a bit broken-hearted bout that. I twitted Edwyn Collins saying...@EdwynCollins You Can't Hide Your Love Forever was the first album I ever bought. L.O.V.E. Love is beautiful, thank you...M x
He replied @StarryTowers.
But a tad hard on himself there, and me...he's talking about one of my all time favourite songs. I was known as a bit of a one-hit-wonder type fan back then mind you. But I put that down to the fact that the guys I knew then all had like 100s of vinyl albums, and they listened to them all. Boringly long stuff from the likes of Pink Flloyd and Frank Zappa, with way too much guitar solo.
Edinburgh Zoo is at it again, behaving badly, in suspicious rumour-loaded circumstances. Edinburgh Zoo seems to me to be like a secret service of animal assassins. Following hard on the heels of the outing of their routine Red River Hog slaughter disgrace, some guys have been suspended pending investigation, including the Panda Guy. I hope this means the Pandas will stay in Panda Land and not have to live the rest of their lives in a Scottish zoo cage.
The story goes like this. Iain Valentine, instrumental in negotiating the Panda transfer deal, has been suspended today. Last month it was the zoo's chief operating officer, Gary Wilson who got sent home. Iain Valentine and the zoo director of development, Anthony McReady, had both apparently been helping run the zoo while a separate enquiry into allegations against Mr Wilson was ongoing. McReady "left the organisation" today. Curiouser and curiouser .
The zoo has not revealed the nature of the charges but say it's taking them extremely seriously and that the police are not involved. I do appreciate that employees in lots of different areas get suspended during investigations, even if totally innocent, the same would happen in the NHS, it's just a little more than slightly suspicious that the latest suspension happens during a previous investigation and there's also a resignation. Watch this space.
Couple days ago, in a separate news story, it's been reported that Edinburgh Zoo 'bosses' offered to humanely destroy wild beavers. Jeezuz...what are we hosting in our capital city zoo? Is it a zoo or an abattoir?
They said they'd search for new homes for any captured beavers, for a very limited period of three weeks, before culling them if new homes couldn't be found, similar story to the plight of the Red River hoglets. And charge £100 plus VAT per beaver head/pelt. The only wild beaver captured so far in Scotland died at Edinburgh Zoo last year within months of arriving at the abattoir, I mean, zoo. They said the animal was absolutely NOT destroyed and that a post mortem was under-way. Why bother? They care not for the little creatures, while willing to spend small fortunes on the big ones. They could save themselves the cost of the killing drugs, cos apparently, if we're to believe their side of the story, they're actually crap at keeping them alive even when they're not purposely killing them.
Wasn't it quite recently that beavers were being reintroduced into the Scottish countryside and this was lauded as great progress? Yes it was, it was in May 2009, three beaver families were successfully released in three separate locations within the Knapdale Forest in Argyll. WTF? Does Scotland want beavers or not? I'm pissed off at these meddling fools, bring them in, kill them off, make up your bloody stupid minds!
Edinburgh Zoo...if you like killing animals, I'd suggest, The Jeremy Kyle Show. Not JK himself you understand, I do like watching, but when he's done and sends them off his stage after they made complete and utter idiots of themselves...that's all I'm saying.
The JK Show on Monday 4th April had Jen the Bonny Lass again. OMG! Only 2 weeks off giving birth, that big flabby belly still looks...more fat than baby, and she's wearing the same grey joggy bottoms.
She's here with the father (Dave) of her unborn (allegedly, though...we'll probably be back at a future date arguing bout that too. Dave, the same guy who was on stage as her boyfriend in the last show 2 weeks ago (long term relationship then). This time Dave was asking "were you pregnant with my child when you walked out on me 16 years ago?" of an ex called Margie. Turns out Dave is the father of the 16 year old Christopher who is raised mostly by his maternal granddad.
Jen comes raging, barging and thundering onto the stage, but what's this, she pulls herself up sharply grabbing at abdomen level, I thought her waters broke, phew...was just her microphone had slipped.
The usual shouting, arguing and insult-swapping continues afresh. Then...she said it again, that's she's bonny, she's shouting at the mother of Dave's 16 year old, and I quote..."look at you, look at me, I'm more bonnier than you!". This time she gets an answer, Margie says..."have you looked in the mirror recently?" The crowd cheers. Hilarious.
05/04/11Bin OCD News, a couple of arses and The Boy's no well
The Husband suspects this was due to it being only approx 1/6 full.
It seems the Bin People don't understand the way things are at Starry Towers. I must have the bins emptied as per schedule, if the bins aren't emptied I go into a bit of a panic.
The answer to this feeling of unease and all being not quite right...today I emptied the blue bin contents into the black bin (general mixed waste), which is due to be emptied next Monday morning. It's got nought to do with recycling, it's all to do with my OCD. Problem solved and panic averted.
Closer
magazine printed a horrendous photo-shoot recently. David Van Day
and his wife Sue Moxley. That naked bum is one naked bum no-one
needs to see, but I suffered, and she puts a brave face on it as any
good ex-model and beauty expert would do, so you can too. He lifts
that leg a couple inches higher and we'd be staring at a brown eye
butthole. She looks, maybe a little inconvenienced, but she looks
good. Him...not so. Where's an air-brush artist when you
need one? Such unattractive pictures, what was he thinking?
Apart from trying to re-launch a music career, though I take umbrage at
the idea he's had a previous music career, does Dollar really count?
Really?The next thing I thought after the shock of turning a Closer page and tasting a little bit of sick in my mouth, was about Sue Moxley.
I know her name because I look at it most days, written on the side of my fullest, softest, bestest, biggest, most favourite make-up brush. If I'd known she was the type to marry David Van Day I'd never have purchased the brush. Only kidding of course, every few months I put a lot of effort into tracking down her make-up brush range online, because I want more, but they're no longer available. Superdrug used to sell them, but sadly, no more.
And that could maybe go a ways to explaining why this good looking 44 year old woman married 54 year old face-lifted, hair-transplanted and eye-bag removed, former '80s pin-up Dave VD. And why they made their vows on Living TV's 'Celebrity Four Weddings' in February of last year.
DVD had previously been a bore on the 2008 I'm A Celeb!, then while dating Sue he dumped her live on Ch 5's Matthew Wright show. They got back together and engaged the next day. What a pair of publicity seeking media whores.
The worst bit about this Sue Moxley and Dave VD marriage news is they now, as a couple, perform as singing duo Rich and Famous. He must be Rich cos her make-up range was called Famous. Having said that, their behaviour would indicate he's not all that rich and she's not very famous. And then there's another little bit sick in my mouth, Rich and Famous have released a song called Rich and Famous and are the new faces of an organic Botox cream, despite his plastic surgery history.
After I got over the visual horror, then the idea that just a few inches and things might've been even worse, this all made me think about Anne Heche's Butthole.
Let me explain before you get the wrong idea. It's Kevin Smith's fault.
Mr Smith likes to spot an accidental brown eye. His favourite butthole, after the lovely Jennifer's obviously, is Anne Heche's. Since he spotted it on Anne Heche in the 1998 Psycho remake shower scene. YouTube has the shower scene. And also the song written and performed by Dan Louisell, a Kevin Smith SModcast podcast network fan. Catchy little number, if you check it out I guarantee you'll be singing it in your head and perhaps even embarrass yourself out loud by mistake.
The Boy is unwell, really no well, he spent the evening laying around on the sofa, moaning. And I have to say, that temperature was pretty impressive. No need for a thermometer, he's burning up. When he came to me announcing he was feeling shite and a bit hot, I could tell just looking at him all flushed and face tripping him. My hand to his forehead, ouch, hot, hot, hot. Sore throat and hyperthermia, rigor, loss of appetite, aching muscles, lethargy, poor wee sole. I dosed him up with Paracetamol for the temperature control and an Aspirin gargle for the sore throat, then saw him off to his bed. I got him two bottles of cold water out the fridge, a frozen ice pack and a blanket for when his duvet is too much. He requested a 'spit basin', so he can lie in his bed and spit, his throat must be tasting pretty disgusting. I'm thinking maybe tonsillitis cos he mentioned a burst thing happened on the roof of his mouth earlier and I have a long and busy history of tonsillitis myself, it only stopped after I had my tonsils removed in the 90s.
We'll see what the morrow brings for him, but one things certain, he will be at his work come Friday. I've been up and down stairs checking on him all evening and he's still alive. Years back before The Boy was born, I made his father go to work with Glandular Fever. Of course we didn't know he had Glandular Fever at the time, I'm not a total bitch. Six months after his lengthy acute spell of trying to take sickies, which I denied him, he went to his GP. He was concerned at his inexplicable weight loss and swollen lymph nodes, he actually suspected he had cancer. The GP did blood tests and informed him, "you've had Glandular Fever"...approximately 6 months ago. Oh well, it was probably his own fault, I wouldn't have dismissed his illness at the time if he hadn't already given me the impression that he was the type to blag sickies. No sickies on my watch.
04/04/11Religious Zealots are everywhere
Right,
I'm just gonna come out and say it, religion is BAD, and not in a good
way. When you weigh up the positives and the negatives, the cons
are...winning, d'oh. I have no god, no religion, and I'm a better
person for it.I'd been listening to Kevin Smith podcasts and hearing him talk about this lot, cos they protested his movie Red State, providing him with publicity. Red State is a horror movie I'm very much looking forward to watching, featuring a fictitious mid-America no-FUNdaMENTAList sect. He's laughing at them, but all things considered, I don't think he should feed off a bunch of mad people for publicity. The more publicity the mad people get the stronger their belief in their own righteousness, and that's not good.
Then last night I watched a Louis Theroux documentary about them. The no-FUNdaMENTAL Baptist Christian Phelps lot in the USA. It's all child abuse and inciting hatred with The Westboro Church. The child abuse is the brain washing crap they feed innocent children, it's horrible to see these little people regurgitating this hate in the name of a human delusion, their mythical being in the sky. The hours and hours of their childhoods spent standing in all weathers holding signs. The anti-Jew video they showed Louis was so stupidly childishly horrendously offensive and designed to effect him personally, him being Jewish, he retained his cool, the consummate professional.
The
main objectives seem to be hating gays and protesting, funerals being a
favourite spot to taunt their fellow human beings and make fools of
themselves. They attribute all their hatred to their god, sticking
'GOD' at the start of their hate statements, GOD HATES FAGS, GOD
HATES FAG ENABLERS, GOD HATES AMERICA, GOD HATES ISRAEL, GOD HATES JEWS
(the Jews always get it), GOD HATES YOU etc. And the classic
thanking their god signs, THANK GOD FOR DEAD SOLDIERS, THANK GOD FOR
BREAST CANCER, can these people be anymore offensive? Erm, I don't
see how. They even, even more nonsensically and inexplicably,
THANK GOD FOR OIL SPILLS, a so very obvious human mistake. They're
pretty crazy with this, their god hates just about everything and is
responsible for the rest...whatever suits them at the time. They attribute geology, weather and atmospheric changes as their god's work against the sinners, and hence they rejoice at human death by tsunami and earthquake. Oh yeah, and Obama is The Beast, the Anti-Christ. I'm trying hard not to laugh.
Obama's struggling, the devil wouldn't have to struggle. The devil would just do it, especially if he'd decided he wanted to do it in the guise of President of the USA, his will would be done by now.
If there's a vid-cam in the vicinity they will protest, and oh how they crave the attention, I hate to say it, but a few of them are media whores. They also wish to inflict as much emotional upset on others as possible, favouring funerals as the best place to get their hateful and extremely offensive placards out. They seem to want everyone else in the world that isn't them to feck off and burn in hell. And when I say 'everyone that isn't them', that even includes their own grown up children. In some instances a few of the young adults have actually managed to outgrow the brain washing, the hate, the delusions and lies they grew up with, then are banished as 'rebels'.
Then again, if we all did feck off and burn in hell, there'd be no one left to give them attention, so they probably secretly don't want us all to burn in hell, maybe just the gays and the Jews would suffice. In conclusion, if the world in general ignored this bunch of losers, they wouldn't go away, but it would piss them off to the max, lets all treat them with the contempt they deserve and just ignore them.
Or
maybe, drive them even more insane, kill them with kindness, what if we
all just smile sweetly and tell them condescendingly, yes dear, sure,
yes of course god hates jews and fags and what not, yes yes, now just
you get on with your hate thing, lovely, and have a nice day.
Laugh at them if you can't be nice to them.And when they die, and all the little atoms that are the make-up of these people, enter back into the atom-recycling mechanism that is the known universe, sadly, there'll be a big bunch of similarly deluded mad people doing similarly disgusting things against their fellow human beings in the name of their gods, because evolution is way too slow for my liking.
Jeeeezuz, unbelievably horrible nasty disgusting people. To be a part of this cult seems to allow free speech to talk shite, abuse their children and promote hatred against every group of people that in normal Western culture the law usually protects. I don't get it. They were banned from the UK in 2009. Why isn't America getting them shut down?
I confess, I had a bit of fun making some signs of my own.
Sign making can become addictive, I realise that now. Yes dears you're right, carry on making signs, very good, you're all doing well, good for you. Maybe we should give them huge dollops of all possible media attention, keep them fulfilled and most importantly...busy. Apparently the devil makes work for idle hands, and really, when it comes down to it, everyone else will be safer if all they do is make signs, rework song lyrics and act like ignorant inhumane bastards at funerals. Sticks and stones, and all that. Lovely to see their main website, godhatesfags.com is currently down amid speculation of hacking by a group called 'anonymous'. There's much speculation and counter speculation amid conspiracy theory and counter conspiracy theory and...look...no one knows who done it, just glad some clever sod did. There is, at time of going to blog, a godhatesfags.org.uk explaining why god hates ciggies, an obvious piss-take, all good clean www fun at the expense of the bible bashing nutters.
My message to Kevin Smith, not that he'll find it and read it, but I can't be bothered trying to say it in 140 characters or less, would be...your lovely wife Jennifer is right, some people are beyond redemption, you should stop giving any attention to these bad people, and especially that young female who flirts with you. The young females think they're so sexy, while saying that the 4 Bs is the rule, ie no bums, boobs, belly or back, they clearly thinks its fine to reveal thighs in mini skirts and shorts and fine to wear tight vests, bodycon lace tops and push-up bras. Jennifer's right, that one's got her own agenda. I think Jen referred to her as a star-f****r. She's talking the Phelps talk, while waiting for a better deal to come along, undoubtedly. Savvy women like Jen and myself are astute at spotting the man-eaters in all walks of life.
And still on religious zealot TV. There's absolutely no man-eating females involved with this one, but probably more than a few man-eating men. All that brother love, who do they think they are kidding? I watched My Brother The Islamist a documentary by tree surgeon-turned-filmmaker Robb Leech attempting to understand why his stepbrother Rich, and so many other seemingly ordinary young white UK men convert to Islam. I'd point to the fact that they don't just convert to Islam, if they did it would be acceptable as their personal choice from the range of recognised world faiths available to their spiritual minds to choose from. But oh no, these particular young men aren't thinking peace and love or they'd all turn Buddhist, go on retreat and we'd all smile. This lot are the type in need of extreme hate, if they lived anywhere close to Kansas they'd be over talking to old man Phelps.
It's currently in vogue for our self-alienated UK lot to join the radical Islam jihadist no-FUNdaMENTALists. Why? Because they are lacking in some way. Unable to form normal fulfilling relationships and find their own way and place in the world, they grasp onto a cult. Either that, or if they are a bit fit and like physical challenges, they join the armed forces. They need someone else to think for them, tell them what to do. But they want to be important, they believe society sees them as unimportant and ineffectual, they want to make a difference. They need, they need a lot. They feel dissatisfied and disengaged from normal life, the people they know and society in general. They have a deep yearning to belong, they desperately need a support network that makes them feel special and different, they kick off against and reject their normal lives. To show how angry they are at where they come from they go for the furthest far away extreme they can find. They is mental. Rich certainly came across to me as an undiagnosed
schizophrenic type personality.This lot convert under radical Muslim group Islam4UK (now banned under Britain's anti-terror laws) and such like. They want Sharia law, where women would be stoned to death for relationship misdemeanours. Most of the women I know, me included, would be dead by stoning or alive in a burka if this lot got their way. They are willing to die for Islam, obtaining hero-status and the afterlife as long as they send a load of us infidels to hell at the same time. My message to Rich and all his intolerant homophobic women-hating brothers, if you don't like it here, look out your passport, buy a ticket to a Muslim country and live there, end of problem. You won't have to look at all you hate so much, and us infidels could get on with our choices, to live, be happy and be kind to others without fear of terrorism from within.
"As an Atheist, having a christian threaten me with hell is like having a hippy threaten to punch me in my aura."
31/03/11Mr Walken, Judge Judy, Dobbies at Sunny D, Mum's Day sorted, Musa Kusa (LOL), The Husband VDV movie and 22 Bullets
Happy Birthday Mr Walken, 68 today, and still my favourite man on the big screen.
Had
a bit of a shock when I read the headline that Judge Judy had been
rushed to hospital yesterday, what would I do with no Judge Judy of a
morning, she's my favourite background TV.So it was with a big phew! that I read on to find that her investigations were negative and she was going home healthy. Her intestinal discomfort must've been trapped wind, or gas as she would call it. A couple doses of Rennies, or Pepto Bismol more likely, and hopefully she's right as rain. What a fright.
One reason for the Sunny D local village shop to be feeling jittery is the recently opened Dobbies garden centre just outside Sunny D. The Sunny D Dobbies isn't just a garden centre, it has a farm food hall selling local produce, a butcher and a bakery, The Deli Cafe, a restaurant, freezer foods with each prepared meal portion bearing the name of the person who cooked it, gifts, a children's department, toys and games, pet care, aquatics and chickens. And my personal favourite feature, the olive oil bar with free samples and breads to dip.
Once I get started on that there's practically no dragging me away.
Strangely enough, they also sell plants and garden stuff. It's absolutely massive, and apparently, in the men's loos there's flower shaped urinals. Now that I know this, I will of course, be sending The Husband in with a G10 to obtain photographic evidence.
The only down side I've seen so far, is the excessive car parking aspect. It's not the space, it's a busy place and needs all the parking it's got, the problem is the load of hand waving parking/security type attendants outside, and they can be a bit Little Hitler with their instructions on where you should park. That's annoying, it's like being at Ingliston, this way mate, go that way, and this way, this way, and this way...and park right...there. We'll park where we want to park not where we're told to park, thank you very much. We're at a bloody garden centre not a major event. The Husband put a window down and told the guy he wouldn't be following orders, he'd be dropping me at the door and parking where he decided.
We visited for the first time on Monday, for some stepping stones and blue pansies for the hanging baskets.
We went back today for a Mother's Day gift for The Mum. They have Steiff and I'd fell in love with a Lumpi Labrador Puppy.
We had a laugh with the lady on the till, there's free gift wrapping for Mother's Day gifts, and this puppy was a Mother's Day gift, so she wrapped it for free, quite badly, but she wrapped it.
Was all clear with little white spots cellophane, and a huge choice of coloured bows. She tried to make the bow ribbons do the curly thing, failed, several times, we told her just to cut them short and forget any idea of curls. Was much more fun than just buying a gift bag for presentation. We bid her a fond farewell saying 'see you later', she said, 'yeah if I'm still working here'. I do like a warm friendly human shop assistant. We also got cupcakes, 4 of, a special Mum's Day one saying 'Star Mum' and other starry decorated ones, then visited The Parents with gifts.
ften I'm just concentrating on hearing his name and
giggling. I'm not very pleased he's here mind, seeking asylum, and
the government claiming he won't get special treatment, no immunity from
prosecution for his almighty crimes against humanity. Yeah well,
we'll see how that works out. The Lockerbie connection are going
mad at the thought of getting him up here over the border for
questioning, I don't know why. We spent loads of money prosecuting
and imprisoning Big Al McGarry, only to give him back his freedom, so
why should we waste more money chasing the truth? I don't want
this Musa Kusa (snigger) in Engerland, let alone Scotchland. Give
him to someone else, let him be their headache, why the UK, why not go
to France Musa Kusa? (titter)Rats leaving a sinking ship are still rats.
The Husband's back from his annual motorbike racing week in France and he's got new toys. A tiny HD video cam and a movie editing computer programme. The Husband's first major movie is available on YouTube, spot the clever editing. That's him doing 140 mph at le circuit Val De Vienne.
This evening The Husband and I watched 22 Bullets starring Jean Reno, a little bit obvious, I saw all the twists coming, but we like Monsieur Reno very much, so it's an enjoyable movie. And that wee boy, what a great actor for one so young.
30/03/11Sunny D
Talking about tax payers money (I was in my last blog post), there's a new Sunny D feature, local council installed, on the corner at the west entrance to the village. The edge of the grass at the council-funded-and-maintained-decorative-raised-flower-bed garden feature, just before you pass the council-funded-village-entrance-decorative-signage, gets churned up by vehicles mounting the kerb. I know I've seen that occasionally, but I didn't realise it was such a major problem.
But today we spotted this bunch of decorative posts that have appeared to put a stop to this.
The side of the road with the new posts is the side of the road that is effected by traffic leaving the village, but the grass on the opposite verge gets run over just as much I think, by traffic entering the village from the west. We'll either see a set of the same posts on that side in the very near future or the local council will just turn a blind eye to that. There's precious little thought put into the majority of these type things, from my experience.
While on the subject of the local Sunny D village community, the owners of our village local shop have stuck a leaflet in the Starry Towers front door (and everyone else's door I expect), with the intention of persuading us all to save their business.
They aim to convince us that the shop is a non-profit making endeavour. Also that their prices are on a par with supermarkets once you've factored in the fuel costs of driving to a supermarket. I kind of doubt it, given that any one of the 3 local supermarkets who provide a delivery service to Starry Towers can be persuaded to deliver for £3.50 on a quiet day. Sainsburys even offer to deliver for free on a basket total over £100 on 3 mid-week days (tuesday/wednesday/thursday).
Even if it were true, the Sunny D local village shop doesn't do Gu individual vanilla and chocolate cheesecakes or breaded Camembert or 24 can packs of Pepsi Max, or fresh fish, or a green salad, or bargains such as 1.89 litres Persil Liquid, down from £12 to £6 for a limited time only, but if you stock up, you'll be ok till the next time they put the same offer up again. And if your savvy you'll go between the 3 supermarket websites picking up on all 3s best bargains.
Yes I appreciate that I can pick up my Sunday Times and they keep it for me if I don't manage in on the day, but reality is, I could subscribe online and have it delivered to my laptop anytime I wish. Though I prefer the paper version cos I can read pages of the magazines in the shower, if that were to stop, I'd have to accept it and just read pages of HEAT and Empire in the shower while perusing the Sunday Times online instead.
I certainly do continue to appreciate the local village shop attached Post Office services, from stamps, parcel collection point & returns service, and the cash card withdrawals at the counter. But, I can't afford to do my weekly grocery shopping at the local village shop, and even if I could, they can't possibly supply everything I want, if they could, they'd be the size of a supermarket, and that'd spoil the village. It's a no win situation, sad, but true.
The note through the door with it's Use It Or Lose It message suggested that if everyone visiting the shop were to just purchase one extra item at each visit, the shop would be able to continue to function...now I reckon, that's not based on research. If all the patrons each threw in a wee sweetie from the penny tray...you see what I'm getting at. Pointless.
To my way of thinking, the real catch-22...what vehicles do you think do the most damage to the village? I suggest the heavy trucks, the lorry drivers who leave the main road and drive through Sunny D (and there's a lot of them) are most likely to be the ones who drive over the grass verges that we now need posts put up to prevent that damage. What car and motorbike owners would willingly leave the road to hit a kerb stone, risking damage to their wheels, and in the case of motorbikes, the risk would be even higher.
Why do you think these lorry drivers drive down through the village? Ye-eeess...for the easy parking at the local village shop, to pick up their filled rolls, pies, fags, milk, fizzy drinks, newspapers, sweets, crisps etc. It's a lorry drivers shopping paradise.
Recently when the village road was closed off to through traffic due to flooding on Main Street, the local shop ladies stuck a sign on the official road sign stating...SHOP STILL OPEN! The villagers knew the shop was still open, the home-made sign was for the lorry traffic. It got removed, rightfully.
Who else benefits from heavy vehicle traffic passing through Main Street in our little village? No-one apart from the shop. Everyone else has to put up with the noise, the pollution, the risk to the children on the street, the increased damage to the road surface (we'll pay for the repairs).
Of course I understand it wouldn't be good to lose the very centre of the community spirit the local village shop undoubtedly provides, where else to go for a good village gossip? And, I'm laughing out loud here, I've heard from some villagers that the gossipy hub the shop provides actually sickens them, I can laugh it off, probably because I don't think they talk about me, but maybe they do, or did in the past, before I became Mrs Sensible, I have lived here since 1990. But...whatever, I fear they're fighting a loosing battle, and I'm just a little peeved at the owners thinking I'm fool enough to believe that they only keep the shop open because they are so community spirited, nought to do with paying their wages/bills. Non-profit my arse, there must be enough profit to make it worth their while, if it wasn't and they were truly in such a dire financial position, they'd have shut up shop already and been forced to do summit else that would allow them to make money. We all need to make enough money to live.
And I'll never forget that the shop owners were leading complainers against another small-time local business woman. A privately owned and run mental handicap community home wanted to increase their bed status from something like 6 to 12, the shop owners campaigned against the proposal...on the grounds of the nuisance factor of increased traffic on that street. Hypocrisy is never acceptable in my book.
25/03/11Census Scotland 2011
I completed our Census form. What's that all about eh? Ach, I've already moaned about it on here, a couple posts below on the 19th, I'll say no more.
Nope, sorry, can't stop myself, I'll say some more, because I'm a moany faced bitch at the best of times. Waste of bloody money, our tax payers bloody money. But just one small fraction of the massive amount of our tax payers bloody money that seems to be wasted on a regular and frequent basis.
But rest assured, to ensure everyone understands the questions the authorities 'undertook extensive research and consultation in advance of the census'. Oh goody...prior to spending loads of our money actually producing the paper questionnaires for every house in Scotland and paying people to hand deliver them, they spent loads of our money making sure we can all understand what we're reading...because some of us are thick obviously. Therefore thank heavens they've spent more of our money ensuring they have enabled us to provide them with everything they want to know about us. You know, all that stuff that mostly they know about us already, if they could just get their act together to put in place a better system to collate all the information they already hold about us in loads of different places, we wouldn't have to be bombarded with TV infomercials and such like, and fill out their bloody annoying questionnaires and get so annoyed.
And joy of joys, they have their own dedicated website (more money), 'which will allow most householders to return their questionnaires online'...ahhh, so all them trees died and/or the recycling costs of the paper used and the costs of the hand delivery...is expected to be, mostly for nothing.
I'm pretty sure a central information gathering computer program involving just a few IT people would be a lot cheaper than this flaming circus of advertising and hand delivery and mountains of dead tree products, and printing and the people employed to read the the paper forms returned and...all the other aspects I haven't thought of already.
Quotes from the General Registrar for Scotland website.
24/03/11unexpected act of kindness, lookalikee history, life and death and The Loved Ones
Last weekend the employee lady at The Sunny D shop was so kind and thoughtful, she kept the free-with-some-Sunday-paper Spandau Ballet CD...to give to me. I went in to pick up my Sunday Times, with about half an hour before the shop was due to close it's usual half day, she lifted my paper up from under the counter and drew the free CD from between it's pages and supplements. Asking me if I'd like...it took me a few seconds to realise...how very sweet. Of course I said yes!
I don't even particularly like Spandau Ballet, and Simon Le Bon always looked too chunky, but for her to think of me and do this for me...I'm truly moved by her kindness. Erm...I just got my New Romantic bands mixed up didn't I...t'was Tony Hadley, I never liked him, or maybe it's a Duran Duran CD. Who cares, that's not important.
I was recently reminded of an evening from the '90s I'd long forgot. Me and an ex were having an evening in a local drinking facility. We was quietly minding our business when a group of local and vocal teenagers came in and made big noise about how they thought we were Liam Gallagher and Patsy Kensit. I'm pretty sure they knew we weren't actually, but they loved that we looked a bit like. I was flattered that night, didn't mind that at all, probably really enjoyed it actually. Nice teenagers.
I'm having an elongated period of personal crises which has me thinking back even more than my usual way-too-morbid mulling and thinking, and quite frankly, I'm way too sad. It's been highlighted for me today because I was foolish enough to get talking to a man of the cloth, and didn't get away for approx an hour and a half. I enjoyed speaking to him, but equally, it was terribly hard work. Just by it's very nature, any conversation with a man of the cloth will do that to me. I found him forgiving, accepting, warm, caring and intelligent. We discussed matters of spirituality, how he got to this point and what's made me me. He told me he recognised my situation...it's broadly called...death anxiety. I know fine well that I'm anxious about death, I should've known there'd be loads of research and information about it, what I hadn't thought about was maybe if I faced it instead of trying to block it, maybe I could work through it.
He told me I'd feel better just having had this conversation with him. Strangely he was right about that, he seems to have given me some sort of 'comfort'...a smidgeon of. I'm not about to find god, but he understood, that's just him being caring and intelligent, nothing to do with religion. He offered his services if I want to talk to him again...maybe.
I should've known, it's the meaning of life thing. I know I'm scared of dying and death, but I haven't ever spoke to anyone at length about it. It's not something anyone wants to talk about usually, bring it up in conversation, you'll be pacified as soon as, if you persist, you'll be told enough now, lets talk about summit else. When I try to decide if I should do something about it, I'm always flummoxed as to what exactly. Tell a GP? I tried that a few weeks ago, told one of the GPs who visit my ward, as a fellow professional...and it turns out she's struggling just as much as me. She's so scared of death and can't fathom out the point of life either. I occasionally consider telling a GP who's actually responsible for my health care, but I think they'd just prescribe me antidepressants. Prozac Nation and all that. But I'm not at all keen on mood meds unless it's life-threatening, and by 'life-threatening', I mean the degree of psychotic depression that merits ECT. I spose I'd just got to thinking it's so naturally a massive part of me, it must be the way everyone feels all the time, unless of course, they fool themselves with religion. And I blame the religious for dealing with this so obvious human concern by blindly being comforted by the lie that there is something after death. I know there isn't, we're all just atoms of carbon, oxygen and hydrogen, in a very complex configuration, but still, that's all that's left when we no longer exist as a living person, ie when we die. I did mention I know it's worse for me just now because I'm still grieving the loss of my good friend, my Octogenarian pal who stopped breathing last Xmas, but that in reality his loss has only served to allow me to comfortably mention my general discomfort to more people than usual circumstances do.
The Brother is married to a German, she's lovely, bad bit is they're in the middle of moving to Germany. They're upping sticks, selling house and cars, The Sis-in-law already left her job and is working in Germany, she's finding a house and plans are The Brother will be out there sometime this summer.
I know, I know, it's just an hours flight away, it just seems...sad. The Husband likes spending time with The Brother, they both do motorbikes, we'll both miss him. And don't suggest...but you'll have family in Germany you can visit and get free accommodation...cos we already had that offer from The German in-laws and their holiday home. And we've got a house in Holland just over the German border and we can actually travel to any part of Europe anytime we bloody well wish...soooooooo, there's no benefit I can see.
I simply wont be appeased. AND looking ahead...when our parents need a bit help...the wee shite wont be around to attend as required.
In my job I've seen loads of old folks with kids that live abroad...I cant help but feel them kids should be around and not miles away. But The Sis-in-law is returning to live close to her parents, so should be commended for that. Darn.
My Octogenarian Friend was always dropping in and treated me like a daughter...because...his real daughters live miles away. I was his regular hospital visitor, me and The Dad or me and The Husband were there every day till the daughters got here and started their 24/7 death bed vigil, then I had to stand back.
Phew...sorry bout that...I just ranted, I spose I'm bitter, and still grieving.
Moving on swiftly. All is well here, The Husband is still in Val de Vienne (south of France) with the boys, going round and round...pre-season motorbike racing practice thing. In his phone calls he's raving about the benefits of massage...throwing a motorbike around a racetrack is starting to hurt...a lot. I give him 3 more years of this foolishness, then seriously, he has to stop, or maybe just slow down. The good thing is he's loving the massage thing so much he intends to seek out regular doses of the same for both of us on his return. I've always fancied massage, just never got round to making it happen.
The Boy and I watched The Loved Ones. Australian slash horror with a bit of humour and finesse. Says a lot about me that the only bit that made me go OMG! was when a person was crawling on a hard road surface, having to use elbows because of broken bones and other such serious injuries, it was the skin on the hard road thing, that must've hurt.
19/03/11home delivery shopping, Scotland Census 2011, Curvyman and Splice
So time to try Sainsburys. They offer one hour delivery slots instead of 2 hours the others provide, there's no delivery charge for all orders over £100 booked for delivery on Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday, they give Nectar points and £10 discount vouchers if they make a mistake. The delivery guy gave me the New Customer talk and booklet of info. I'm impressed. He was very good at his job with a professional and friendly manner, explained everything and delivered the groceries right to the Starry Towers kitchen instead of the doorstep. The last point in his New Customer Talk was that the driver has to permitted to take the Z4 out for a drive, proving he has a sense of humour too.
While I was pottering in the Starry Towers gardens today a man came by and hand delivered the Scotland Census 2011 paperwork. TV ads have been reminding us recently that this waste of money is approaching. I don't feel particularly happy about this legal duty to shape Scotland's future. The authorities obviously have a load of information about the Starry Towers household already, we were all born, bred and schooled in the UK, we pay the Council Tax and we vote. We're registered with the NHS, our vehicles are licensed and we work legally. If the authorities did a better job on the migration front, then added up the data they already have from schools and health services they'd know who was coming and going and could do their own sums, a computer program could do it for them. Them that aren't in the system already aren't going to complete the census honestly, so what's to be gained?
I hate unruly tangled iPod cable, so I bought a Nite Ize Curvyman. The cable tidy that came with my most recent earphone purchase doesn't work well. The cable's always unrolling itself off it and it's heavy enough to put enough weight on dragging an earphone to fall out my ear every now and again. How very annoying. The Curvyman functions much better, it's well light, the cable stays where you put it and the little clip thing is great for helping take any drag off and hence the earpiece stays in your ear when the clip is clipped on a clothing neckline or suchlike.
I watched Splice on my ownsome, basically because I couldn't persuade The Husband or The Boy to watch it with me, it went on the watch alone list. Not my typical kind of movie, but Rotten Tomatoes said it was alright, the critics gave it 74%. It's The Nose and a laboratory creation that likes Tic Tacs and does a lot of damage. Worst bit...Adrien Brody's character having sex with the creature, there was absolutely no reason for any intelligent scientist who is punching way above his weight with his fellow intelligent scientist and attractive girlfriend to be doing that. And we really really didn't have to see so much of it. It was bad enough first time round when we watched him doing it with aforementioned attractive female human, but worse was the sex with the bald multi-winged stiletto footed thing...disturbing. I don't like seeing Adrien Brody having sex with anyone or anything, I haven't worked out quite why I find it so unappealing, but really, yeeeuck.
18/03/11Local People News, TV's funniest turns this week, Charlie Sheen is probably winning, Far Away things are getting even worse , Mean Girls, Heathers, Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! and The Lovely Bones
Local People News : The snow was gone the next day, all that shovelling wasn't actually technically required. The old-lady-next-door-neighbour phoned me the next day to thank us for clearing her path though. So that's good, she's alive, and as well as can be expected. Turns out she was sick and laying on her recliner chair. She was aware we were out there doing her path, but she felt so poorly she couldn't get off the chair. She was feeling much better the next day, as the snow was melting away with every passing minute, so that's good. I saved her phone number off the caller identity screen this time, so if I'm worried bout her again I can give her a call.
In other Local People News, I've been to the Post Office and faced the Silver Haired Fox with the news that I wouldn't be purchasing a crossbow for him on eBay. I explained there are none on eBay and that my assumption is this will be because as lethal weapons they have to be purchased all legal and above board, probably registered to the buyers name and address. He agreed. Anyways that's that put to bed, he then tells me he's got a friend looking for a set of skies for him...am I the only one thinking James Bond here? Skies, crossbow, what next? Post Office pen with hidden poison dart and camera in his Post Office badge?
Couple of moments of hilarity on the TV this week, and I am including the bit of Red Nose Day that I managed to stomach before admitting defeat and switching off totally depressed. I did my bit for Red Nose Day, I consumed a massive amount of Malteesers for them charities.
On The Jeremy Kyle Show, Tuesday's episode, 15/03/11. In the section entitled 'stop trying to sleep with me...you're married to my Mum!'. The fat pregnant woman shouting at her step-father and telling him to look at himself, calling him many disrespectful names, fat, ugly, pervert etc Accusing him of fantasising, how ridiculous to imagine that she would get with him, and mucho credit to the audience, not one of them sniggered when she described herself as 'a bonny lass'. They must've been as dumbfounded as the rest of us. There was more than one fantasist on the stage.
She supposedly has only 4 weeks to go till the baby's due...and I have to say right now, poor baby...by the look of that belly, there's not much baby there, it's all flab.
A right funny line on Coronation Street, was Tracy's comment to Liz, referring to Steve and Becky, she says...'ask Same Difference over there' as she collects young Amy and leaves the room. And Steve and Becky do look at lot like Same Difference now she's pointed it out. Ha haha, very good.
A wee while back I thought Charlie Sheen was going a lot mental, full blown celebrity melt-down, and felt it terribly sad. The Sheen 4 ring circus with much morbid fascination, hilarity and gloating from the gleeful audience. A great pity...but also a huge part of the Celebrity Zeitgeist...so I clicked 'follow' on Twitter. On the back of his recent relationship issues, the wife and kids and prossies in hotels stuff, being sacked from his highest paid actor in a TV show role, his goddess situation the TV interviews and the Sheen's Kornor videos on Youtube...crazy or what. I thought the man is obviously deluded and suffering from an acute mental illness, classic mania with a long history of substance abuse on a background of mega-money, but whatever, it all seemed definitely sad.
Now though, I watched a spoof cookery program online, Funny or Die's Charlie Sheen's Winning Recipes, he looks fine and he's making successful comedy with obvious parodies of himself in what so recently appeared to be full-blown nut mode. Bit of a winning turn around for someone who seemed so out of control just days ago. He's selling out his up-coming tour, touring what exactly...I'm not certain. And he's went ballistic on Twitter, with a new Guinness world record for the fastest 1,000,000 followers, and tweets of such monumental confusion. I have little understanding of what his twats are saying, but then again, that's no rod to measure by, I don't understand a lot of what people like even David Baddiel or Boy George are o
n
about. Jonathan Ross, now he's a man who's twits I can understand,
they're written in plain English and he doesn't keep sticking in
references and links to odd stuff and other's comments I haven't seen
already. On the down side, he's boring, tending to just comment on
what one of his dogs has had for it's dinner or the latest charity
appeals for world tragedies, but at least I understand.It's all going mad right now. Japan and Libya being the main big stories. Natural disasters, people and politics. The Husband says the problem with natural disasters is there's just too many people in the world, therefore some people live in dangerous places.
Yeah, dangerous places geographically, and despot wise. Colonel Gaddafi (is it Gaddafi or Gadaffi?) isn't going down down without a fight. And now the UN have
pushed us into the fight, along with France, the US and some Arab countries (some...which ones?). We are not the world police, and we really can't afford to keep having to go fight for the underdogs. And this decision is changing the Libyan Muslim people's revolution into what can easily be portrayed by them that wish to use it against us, as a Western mainly Christian Crusade. And can we please stop selling the dictators the weapons? That might just help. We've known this man is, erm eccentric, for a long time and we've been selling him weapons for a long time, and giving him Big Al McGary (AKA Abdel Baset Ali al-Megrahi).
David Cameron in a speech in Purth (Perth) today says..."If Gaddafi's attacks on his own people succeed, Libya will once again become a pariah state, festering on Europe's border, a source of instability, exporting strife beyond her borders....A state from which literally hundreds of thousands of citizens could seek to escape, putting huge pressure on us in Europe...We must remember that Gaddafi is a dictator who has a track record of violence and support for terrorism against our country and against Scotland specifically...The people of Lockerbie, 100 miles away from here, know what he is capable of". So it was OK we released the Lockerbie Bomber because it was a Labour government's decision, and now the Tories can remind us what a bad guy he was, cancer or no cancer, and obviously the cancer was nowhere near as serious as we were told at the time, Big Al's still alive a year and half after being released on compassionate grounds on the 20th August 2009. Lies, lies and more damned lies, it's constant.
He's hanging the dicey future of RAF bases in Scotland out there as an incentive, paying tribute in his way of it..."Here in Scotland, where people have for decades made a disproportionate contribution to our armed services, it is good to be able to say - loud and clear - that we honour and revere all that you are and all that you do".
I watch from Sunny D in slightly over-whelmed amazement.
The Husband got home from The Land of Considering Contributing To The UN's Libyan No-Fly Zone Despite Gadaffi Previously Taking 3 Of Their Marines Hostage (ie The Netherlands). Their Marine hostages were released earlier this month so that probably explains why Premier Mark Rutte can say he is pleased with "the clear decision'" by the UN Security Council on a resolution that makes military intervention in Libya possible, while making his decision anything but clear at this stage. It's reported that Rosenthal has said that consultations are underway on all kinds of fronts, both with other countries and from NATO. However, he declined to say whether a concrete request has already been tabled. And said a Dutch contribution can vary widely, from the supply of military equipment to the supply of knowhow. Right, so now we're clear on that...
...The Husband got back from there, watched a couple movies with me, sorted out his race bikes and all the Swag I'd dutifully sat on Swag Watch to receive delivery of for him, picked up the Goody Bag I'd lovingly made up for him, full of 'just add boiling water' snack pots and cup soups, chocolate, Dr Pepper, crisps, muesli and 8 kitchen rolls, hired a van, booked a ferry and was off to The Land of The Guillotine and a Definite Decision on the UN Resolution 1973 (ie France). He's off to le circuit Val De Vienne to go round and round in circles.
I watched Mean Girls because I never have before, and followed that with Heathers, because it's years since I did before. Wasn't much of a movie experience really. Another evening The Husband and I watched Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! that was OK. Then last night The Husband and I watched The Lovely Bones. Bit of a mistake on my part, I hadn't realised this is a ghost story aimed at teenage girls. The performance of Susan Sarandon made it worthwhile though, despite there being no good reason for her apart from making the movie a load better than it was without her drunken granny role.
12/03/11snow again, nose action, Lord Hutton proposes, Japan, PULP dancing, prank call and Frontiers
AND! what I'm regarding as a Nail Varnish News exclusive (cos I haven't read it anywhere else), there's some really exciting news for lovers of German brand Art Deco nail varnish over on the Swag Blog.
The Boy didn't get to work today due to extreme Winter weather conditions. The snow came down heavy on the Wine & Whine night, but disappeared causing no travel issues the next day. It returned today causing the 243 bus to go AWOL. I phoned the Traveline Scotland helpline...twice. They said it was running, but may be delayed. The Boy went for the 11.00 version. He stood for over an hour, waiting for the 11.00, then the 12.00. No joy. I squared it with his work, let them know how hard he'd tried to get there. I was clearing snow off the Starry Towers monoblock while he was bus-waiting. He went back indoors, absolutely freezing, for a hot shower, then a bowl of hot soup.
I asked The Boy to clear the old-lady-next-door-neighbour's path. So once he was warm and fed we both went round. No sign of the old-lady-next-door-neighbour, she wasn't sitting by the window as usual. The Boy told me to knock the door, but I didn't want to make her feel she had to thank us. I just wanted to do a favour on the QT. The Boy shovelled the snow and I sprinkled the salt after him.
My worry was if she tried to leave her house today she might slip and fall. But now I'm more worried she's dead indoors. There's been no sign of her all day, maybe I should have chapped the door.
Here's a thing. Yesterday at work I smelt Vosene. From distant memory I think Vosene has a strong smell, a distinctive medicated tarry smell, and I did, I could smell it. I'm going to buy a bottle so I can practice smelling at home. The Husband beware...my sense of smell may be returning? You'll maybe have to stop farting the stinky ones right next to me and my amnosia nose.
Lord Hutton says I should give up the benefits of a public service worker pension, and revise my ideas on retirement age too. Lord Hutton...go feck yourself! You think we go into Mental Health Nursing for the wages? We go into it because we feel we want to help others, we stay for the pension/retirement age benefits. I recall about 1989, the government of the time allowed/facilitated/promoted private pension companies to approach nurses, a load of us were swayed by their promises and left the NHS pension scheme. But some years later the government promoted and pushed info in a campaign telling us that it was our right to return to the NHS pension because it was their fault we'd been swayed away briefly by the private pension companies, hence admitting they'd given poor/bad advice.
When I went into the NHS they told me I should pay into the NHS pension, then they told me to go private, then admitted they were wrong bout that. advised me to go back into the NHS pension...and now, if Lord Hutton gets his way...that'll be me screwed again. Can I sue them for changing the boundaries? Making false promises? We have a contract, an agreement, I'll knock my pan out for them, in return they'll pay my wage, give me the pension we agreed on and let it all stop when I'm 55.
I've got my heart set on retiring at age 55, I couldn't do a day more, seriously. At age 55 I'll have 33 years done, and as things stand at this time, as I have MHO status, every year after 20 years counts as two years. I've only got 7 and a half years to go. But if they move the goalposts...doesn't bear thinking about. There's an NHS pension calculator here.
Much as I'm appalled at the images of what the people of Japan have just endured with the major earthquake and tsunami, and it has all been horrendous and frightening, if I've learnt one thing, it's that Japan should not have nuclear power. It's too risky to build nuclear power stations on major fault lines in the Earth's crust. Scotland used to be at the edge of a tectonic plate hot spot, hence The Highlands, we're lucky to be here now, not then. The world has too many people, they build major conurbations too close to fault lines, never a good idea. As long as we try to clean up behind us, really, global warming warnings and the financial cost to us tax-payers...it's all expensive scare-mongering. Nature and The World do their thing, regardless of human behaviour.
PULP and Jarvis Cocker were at #47 in the BBC's top 50...Pop's Greatest Dance Crazes chart...with his Common People disco dance. Jarvis dancing to Common People was all little flicks, extreme limb thrusting and frenzied side-steps, and now I've watched Pop's Greatest Dance Crazes, I know it was apparently, ironic.
They said on the TV show that fans didn't do the Common People dance moves because they just knew Jarvis was being ironic. They maybe right, though I didn't know that at the time I was regularly on the disco dance floors. I danced my usual dance to Common People, but oh my, I do recall my Disco 2000 moves. I did a load of ironic moves to Disco 2000, every lyric had me motioning my hands/arms. My house was very small...I did a little square with my hands. With woodchip on the walls...I ran a hand down an imaginary rough wall. Lets all meet up in the year 2000...I stuck 2 fingers up meaningfully. Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown...I put a hand at arms length above my head indicating tall. You can even bring your baby...I'm ashamed to recall...I did a rocking a baby in my arms mime. I was the only person in the clubs doing these moves...maybe I just didn't understand I was s'posed to be ignoring the lyrics. But I swear I was being ironic.
Ho-hum.
I got a prank phone call tonight, 1 min 24 seconds of hard to decipher nonsense from a withheld number...it was breaking up too much, I have no idea what he was saying. I said absolutely nothing, then I turned the TV up and put the phone closer so the prank caller could hear Flashdance What A Feeling, in at #21. I seriously doubt they'll phone back...no fun if the only feedback you get is a disco song. And that...is how to deal with prank calls. They wanna prank call you...give them a prank response.
The Husband will soon be home from drilling a hole in the Earth's crust, but just for 2 days, then he'll be off again, to France, for pre-season motorbike race training. So I've kept his To Do List short...only 3 pages of A4, fine-lined paper with my very small and neat handwriting.
The Boy and I watched Frontiers this evening. One of them horror movies that goes to the extremes of crazy torturing, murdering, slicing and dicing behaviour. An incestuous family of mentally deranged cannibals are luring in passing traffic to rob, torture, kill and eat. And they occasionally recognise they need to bring in new blood to improve on the gene pool, so they do a bit of abduction and brain washing Stockholm Syndrome on the side. This time it's in France, so expect subtitles. It's a well made example of the genre. Says more about me and The Boy that the scene we found most scary and disturbing is when two of the young male intended victims from Paris are trying to escape from a mine via a tight enclosed tunnel in the rock deep underground, barely large enough for them to squeeze through. OMG! That's terrifying.
08/03/11wine & whine and football
The Husband...with theze swag, you eez spoiling...yourself.
He does lurve a bit of vehicle pimping, and he's on a roll. Purchasing bits and pieces for his motorbikes, the Range Rover and my personal favourite, the Z4.
To finish the day on a high...The Best Friend did one of our Wine & Whine nights. Haven't done this since last Autumn, mostly down to my Winter depression. Last week in email I told The Best Friend to come on over to my place and I mentally booked The Starry Towers sitting room, without notifying The Boy. I didn't tell him, mostly because I didn't know I had any reason to, I now know better. The Boy had pre-booked, for the Barcelona v Arsenal Champions League last 16 game at the Nou Camp, without informing me.
The outcome of this problematic double-booking was The Best Friend and I got there first and refused to go away. The Boy joined us for the match. If anything, his presence and the football added to our usual type evening. He put up with our talking and I grew accustomed to ignoring the gasps, tuts, yeahs and sweary word outbursts from his corner of the sofa.
I got a wee bit too involved in the footie occasionally, because even I, who knows nearly nought bout the so called beautiful game, I was actually aware of this match coming up. Because of my adoration of my secret dream crush Alan Davies, and his Arsenal podcasts, the old It's Up For Grabs Now and his new Tuesday Club. And bragging rights...I've been there, with The Boy, we did Barcelona, The Nou Camp Tour and a Barca game. I'm pleased with the result, Barcelona are through as expected. The Tuesday Club podcast guys are funnier when their loosing. I relish their misery, sorry, but I do.
07/03/11Taxi! OCD at work, Football News and another deluded old guy makes it public knowledge he believes that paedophile abuse of children might be excusable...and he isn't even a Catholic priest
...and late late late news...One And A Half Men...goodbye Charlie
On the bright side, I managed to blag a couple of lifts today...bank nurse coming in from a place down by The River Forth, so I gave her £5, though she fought me on it and I had to insist (and yes that did hurt, but I think I looked convincing enough), and the student nurse, (I'm her mentor about to write her final report, so I gave her nothing) gave me a lift home on her way to Livingston. I saved £23. My taxi journey, Sunny D - work, work - Sunny D, £14 per journey. And sure, I get to meet taxi drivers and some of them have interesting stories, but REALLY! I pay £28 a day...for the privilege of working...oh that's just wrong, wrong, wrong.
As you know, regular readers, as a Scot, I'm proud of being tight with my money, so it hurts, it really hurts. That little rant was just to get it out my system, I know deep down that the cost of living (and dying) is just a matter of fact, and the student nurse...I'm planning on blagging another couple lifts off her this week, I will insist she accept some dosh...and I will try to smile convincingly as I hand it over...honest I will.
I cleaned out the nurses station walk-in cupboard today (its the same size as the nurses station, ie a way-big cupboard), in a frenzy of OCD, very rewarding on sooo many levels. The spare folders I've lined up neatly on the top-most shelf are even colour-coordinated...bliss. I know for a fact that the C/N will be pleased, cos it had got so bad it was a fire hazard, the Fire Guy had officially complained, its now near-on perfect. But it's still a work in progress. The next stage is carrying on and finishing with the details ie the filing system. That cupboard has been so tidied that the handy man had to take the many black bin bags out. I await the fall-out of staff complaints, with a certain amount of relish.
Back at home this evening I phoned The Mum. She thinks the Silver Haired Fox is way out of order asking me to purchase a lethal weapon for him (see Star Blog entry 02/03/11), and that Neil Lennon is a ginger-haired See You Next Tuesday.
OK she didn't put it in quite those terms. She said he's well out of order and not very pleasant, and when pushed for an answer she agreed he does have red hair...but there's many a journalist would have translated her words in similar manner. But most importantly, it's evidence that she's been reading The Star Blog, and every reader counts. This is an image I spotted on Facebook, doctored for my regular readers, don't wish to offend. Every taxi driver this weekend, and near on every person I've heard speaking about him, has expressed similar views. Nought to do with me you understand, publishing it here to inform on the local feeling trend.
More football news...Ashley Cole Shoots People! Fact, no journo twisting of words. Ashley Cole really did shoot a 'people'. He shot a 21 year old work-experience student, not even an opposition goal keeper, or a burglar breaking into Cole Towers, but an innocent young man who was absolutely no threat to Cole's life, and youngster Cowan couldn't even have been 'for the pot', cannibalism is illegal here. Cole should have immediately given Cowan £100,000, but he didn't, hence it's now in the news.
Say I'm sleeping all alone in bed. The one place I should feel, and be, safe from attack...my own home. I'm totally defenceless in deep REM sleep, I only go to that place in the false belief that I'm safe, but really, I'm only safe behind the legal defences allowed me in Scotland. A seriously bad guy breaks and enters Starry Towers, think serial rapist/killer psycho, there really is a lot of them about you know. He invades my home, he breaks the law of the land, he does what he wants in my home...for instance, perhaps...steals whatever he fancies, throws my stuff around, breaks my treasured collectable stuff, rearranges my precisely alphabetically organised DVD collection in The Walk-In Media Cupboard, eats from my fridge, shits on my floor if he so wishes, daubs insults on my walls, takes a Stanley blade to my sofa. Then...he moves on up the stairs, intends to go further...rape, torture, murder...I'm his defenceless intended victim. I'm a wee woman, I don't know martial arts, and I'm sleeping. What if I were to hear him downstairs, grab my .22 calibre air rifle from under the bed, shit-scared for the pain I might have inflicted on me, the life-long take-to-the-grave rape distress, the life I may be about to have cut short for me, and my boy, my son in the next bedroom, the fears of what this bastard might do to my boy if I don't do something...I raise my gun, as he comes into my bedroom, I fire. And HE sues ME for using disproportionate defence measures.
He's the victim now. I could only suggest to the courts that he might have been thinking bout raping, torturing, murdering The Boy and/or me, I can't prove it. Anyway's I'm getting to the point, and I'm sure your totally getting this...Ashley Cole did the shooting with a .22 rifle in vastly different absolutely non-threatening and inappropriate circumstances, and he isn't in jail.
Someone please whisper in the shell-like of The Northern Angel Of The Blessed Tears...NO! NO! NO! Thinking bout going back to Cashley Cole...NO! He shoots people at close range (just 5 feet away)! He used a .22 calibre air rifle complete with nightscope. Guns brought into and fired at football grounds? Way bad precedence to set, Cole needs to be seriously punished, I recommend a life-time ban from playing professional football. Some of these over-paid football guys think they can do anything, criminally and morally, and so far, no-one's telling them anything to the contrary...the authorities have to draw a line and get way more medieval on their arses. The public are sick of it, it'll surely blow up in their faces eventually if they don't draw their arrogant necks in.
Recently X-ed Councillor (Labour), William O’Rourke of Glasgow...spot the 'X' already. While chairing a disciplinary panel hearing into the case of a care worker who was sacked after being accused of and denying raping a 9 year old girl...asked an investigating police officer if the child 'wanted it to happen'. Fer feck's sake! Yes Mr O'Rourke, if your a firm fan of the popular paedophile delusion that children want it, are asking for it, contrive to obtain it (the little minxes) and enjoy it...that may well be a possibility in your deluded world where children are capable of knowing what's best for them and giving legal consent.
All police officers are trained to give properly fully consenting legal age adult alleged rape victims the full benefit of doubt, let alone children. Are you perhaps a friend of Scottish High Court Judge Lord Alan Turbull, who found in favour of Graeme McArthur who harmed a 3 month old baby boy by inserting a baby wipe into the baby's rectum in the interest of saving on nappy changes.
The Labour Party have suspended him, pending investigation or appeal or whatever he'll be doing. They better not let him back in...banish him forever I say.
Late News : Charlie Sheen...The Husband's going to miss him, can USA TV show Two And A Half Men go on without him?
Warner Brothers sacked Charlie Sheen minutes ago, blaming 'self-inflicted disintegration'. His sacking letter allegedly said alcohol and drugs were "endangering his life", made him "abusive" and caused him to forget lines, and added that Sheen appeared to be "very ill".
Sheen,
who was till moments ago, America's highest-paid TV star raking in
£770,000 per episode of one of The Husband's favourite TV shows...said
of being sacked..."This is very good news. I can take all of the
bazillions and I never have to put on those silly shirts for as long as
this warlock exists in the terrestrial dimension."
Uh-hu...I see what you mean about the shirts Charlie, but you lost me at warlock terrestrial and dimension. Just try to figure out what his twitting twat tweets are about...I haven't got a clue, though I follow him in wonder trying to decipher. Mad, but not as mad as old Scottish men who claim children want to be raped.
03/03/11Super Ally and The Other Guys
You, me, square go, outside now!
The furore at the Rangers/Celtic match yesterday gave me and my only born a good excuse to break into song. Ally McCoist hasn't crossed my mind for a long time, though I dare say he crosses The Boy's mind more frequently. The Boy likes The Gers, I liked them back in the '80s, due to the McCoist/Smith/Walters combo that was so much fun, and Walter Smith looks a lot like The Dad, or maybe I should say The Dad looks a lot like Walter Smith. Any which way, the Scottish football scene in the '80s, in my 20's, was the time I enjoyed a bit of footie action.
The Boy watched the match in the sitting room on the biggest TV here at Starry Towers, and reported the agro to me after the game.
He described Neil Lennon, who I'd never heard of before, but I have to say, since I checked out this Celtic manager, The Boy was extremely accurate. He does look like a sickly ginger rat after a #1 at the barbers. I had a little watch at online footage of this Lennon person raging along the touchline towards Super Ally at the final whistle. Ohhh, he was on a mission to rile Coisty. He started that particular little bit of the monumental chaos that was the entire match. It was Fracas On The Football Field...to the tune of...Murder On The Dance Floor. I can practically fee
l the spittle
hitting Super's face, yeuck, that Lennon's obviously had a questionable
upbringing (born and bred Northern Ireland). The entire game had
many incidents that I'm no font of knowledge on, but there were three
red cards doled out to Rangers players, 13 cautions in total and 34
arrests in and around the ground, with another 187 arrests for violence
and 40 for domestic abuse across the Strathclyde Police area in the next
12 hours.Too harsh?
Apparently an Old Firm match results in an increase in Glasgow's domestic abuse incidents too. You just can't ignore the influence of alcohol and naturally stupid Weegie man mentality either.
Whoever or whatever's to blame for these latest acts of Scottish football aggression, some of them will be up in front of the headmaster, First Minister Alex Salmond has called for a top level summit next week.
Picturing the Chewin' The Fat gag, all together now...hands by your cheeks and wiggle your fingers...OO-OO-HH Fancy...top level summit!
In the lead column there to the left, when I said "Super Ally and The Other Guys", the other guys weren't Celtic, it's the movie we watched this evening.
The Boy and I watched The Other Guys. THE shining star and THE reason I wanted to watch the film, was one of my favourite actor guys, Mr Will Ferrell. He carries this movie. It's no Ron Burgandy, but I liked it for all his bits, there is where the humour lies, everyone else...so-so. The Boy spotted a load of continuity goof type mistakes. He rewound and showed me frame by frame the one after the accounting office blows up, Ferrell is rolling around on the ground next to Wahlberg, Ferrell's wooden pistol starts off in his holster, then it's on the ground, then it's back in the holster. There were so many continuity mistakes I suspect they did it all deliberately, either that or the Script Supervisors should never work again. Narrator voice was Mr Ice-T, nice voice.
And because we'd watched Mr Ferrell, was a real good excuse for The Boy and I to do a couple verses of our Afternoon Delight acapella, in the Anchorman Ron Burgundy stylee, always a good moment.
02/03/11earphone moan, Spring is springing, podcast problem and Silver Fox dangerous weapon shock!
Most people, I think, who use 'ear-canal phones'...them gadgets for
listening to my iPod. The little ones you stick the buds right in
your ears cos the other styles/designs of earphones fall off your ears.
Most people, I imagine, who prefer that style of listening equipment,
should have to buy replacement bud bits for their ear-canal phones, cos
the bud bits can be easily lost by just dropping off, but not me, I have
to buy replacement phones to go with my ever increasing collection of
bud bits. I've just bought my third set of
Sennheiser ear-canal phones.My previous Sennheiser ear-canal phones have went wrong at the jack plug connection bit, whatever it's called. I'm in the habit of wrapping the cable round on the back of my iPod protective cover. I do that cos the length of the so-called 'non-tangle' cable....is soooo not non-tangle...and that's annoying. The cable feels rubbery to the touch, it feels like it should be well non-tangle, but if I don't wrap the cable it comes out my pocket or handbag totally tangled. When I broke my second set, two days ago, it occurred to me that I was causing the internal wires to break at the jack because of my wrapping.
I sent The Husband up to the local ear-phone shop for a replacement set (my third). It was an emergency, happened mid-podcast while I was out gardening. And I panicked, I was scared, I rely on my podcasts to get me to sleep, to get me through breaks at work, to tell me what's happening in the world, they are my security blankie. At the same time I swore I'd stop wrapping the cable round the iPod cover because it's now obvious I'm putting too much pressure on the jack and pulling the internal wires till they break.
But now that I've thrown the iPod cover into a cupboard and been extra careful not to put pressure on the jack, I'm getting a tad upset at the tangley-ness of the cable. There has to be better ear-canal phone solution out there.
So there I was...gardening...and it was February! February in Scotland! Was the last day of February, but still, it was February in Scotland! I pruned the roses, turned the soil to keep all looking neat and tidy...as I do, (and a big sarcastic thank you to the neighbourhood cats, for all the shite I discovered an inch below surface level), and snipped a whole load of dead bits off a whole load of plants...enough to fill the brown bin, in short, it was a lovely sunny day indicative of Spring springing. It was such a lovely day, I even washed the Starry Towers windows!!! And once you've done the outside, you have to do the inside. Was a busy day all in all. I so want Winter to go now, it's been way too long and sad and depressing. This Winter's been particularly bad, but a day in the garden and I do feel slightly better, energy and motivation slowly returning.
Back to podcasts for a wee mo...I've had problems downloading some of my favourites (links in The Lobby) the last couple of days. Cutting a long story short, I wasn't able to download some of my favs, and noticed it was all the ones that are hosted by Libsyn. Eventually I sussed the only change I'd made was to allow the latest Java update to download and be installed on my laptop. Never had any issues with Java in the past that I know of. But since the latest update, the Libsyn hosted podcasts all gave me a strangely similar error message, and I started to cry. My security blankie was threatening to go again, not till I've listened to all the episodes I'd already safely secured, and that would be in about 1000 hours time, but but but, I need to update and stay on top of this situation. When it dawned on me that all I'd knowingly done before I encountered the problem was the Java update, I did what any self-respecting easily-freaked computer user would do, and via System Restore I put the laptop back to it's settings before the Java kiss of death. Hey presto, my Libsyn podcasts were easily downloaded again. So there you go, if you encounter the same problem...cast your eye on Java...whatever it is...it might be causing you Libsyn problems right now.
On the same day I was gardening and washing Starry Towers windows, sensing this general upbeat improvement in all things mood related in my life, I also went along the Sunny D Post Office. Had a little Post Office transaction with The Silver Haired Fox (the PO guy), wasn't till this evening that I had time to consider his request. I requested that he return a parcel to New Look for me, he obliged, then he requested I do him a favour. The Silver Fox, silver of well-trimmed hair and fox of charming the ladies type ways. What's not to like.
He asked me to seek out an item for him on eBay. He tells me he's not good at www shopping, and I believe that from everything else he's ever said in general chit chat with me about his computer and online usage, and he knows fine well that I'm an expert in said field. But now I've had a chance to consider his request and actually have a look around eBay for what he's looking for...I don't think I can oblige.
I was certainly taken aback that he asked me to shop for him for
anything ever, so I knew immediately, snap-decision-reaction, gut
instinct an' all, that I wouldn't be doing it, even as I was chatting
back, asking for more detail, being all sociable and friendly, I was
thinking, aye right! I immediately thought this was a strange
request situation to find myself in, for two reasons, and now, 3
reasons. My concerns :1...I'd have to trust that he'd pay me for the purchase once I'd obtained it for him (though I think he would)
2...I know nothing about the thing he wanted me to buy and he didn't give me enough information to make me feel in anyway knowledgeable enough about it that I'd feel sure enough I'd be bidding on the right type, and now...since I had a look on eBay this evening...
3...I see a lack of the item on eBay. There's plenty toy versions, and accessories for, but not so many of the real adult version.
The Silver Haired Fox asked me to buy him something on eBay, strange...and something he'd know I'd know nothing about, stranger than strange...and even after I asked some questions, it was obvious I still knew nothing, strangest of strange. What's wrong with this man?
He asked me to buy for him is a crossbow! A paper trail with my name on a lethal weapon purchase. I'm entirely uncomfortable about the arrangement as he envisages it. I'm seriously into weaponism, I'm a self-confessed weaponist. Don't like deadly weapons and am anti-killing-anything. Even if it were just for target practice, no likeeee. And I won't be doing it, strange he even asked, that's quite mad really. Or am I the only one thrown by this Silver Fox request? It's like, DUDE! get real! Your freaking me out!
26/02/11SAS operations and The Secret In Their Eyes
Watching TV news footage in recent days, my thoughts were with these men. If they weren't bludgeoned or shot to death, they'd reached the stage where the risk of simply and painfully dying of thirst was a real threat. The media criticising the UK government...too slow to respond for fear of damaging lucrative business relations with Libya. My hope was that the UK government were engaged in secret operations to get them out of there, and seems they were indeed doing just that. My faith in the secret services has been restored. I am fond of a bit of SAS daring-do, it's one of my favourite things.
The Husband and I watched The Secret In Their Eyes this evening. Great Argentinean twisty turny thriller, lots of secrets in lots of eyes, very good, highly recommended by The Husband and I.
25/02/11The Z4's hot new wheels, The Falkirk Wheel and Despicable Me
On
the way back down we had lunch out, at the Stirling branch of Dobbies.
I needed a big bag of Less Mess bird seed, so we combined the stop for
bird food with people food. The Brie and Cranberry Panini is very
nice, I do enjoy a bit of melty cheese. The Husband had the Cheese
and Onion Toasties on brown bread, two of them. The paninis and
toasties come with crisps and a side salad.He'd a huge hunger on. When we arrived, 5 minutes after 3pm, the hot dinner type food was on display, the shepherd's pie really whetted his apitite, but the shop girl said they'd stopped serving the dinners at 3. Five minutes ago. We'd missed it by 5 minutes.
He asked what they'd be doing with the food, they'd be throwing it away. A big tray of shepherd's pie, maybe two portions missing, and the other dinner stuff. Even if they'd turned the heating system off to the containers at 3pm, it would still be safely edible, but she was a young inexperienced jobs-worth and the answer was no. The Husband did ask me if I thought it was reason for complaint, and for complaint, read...causing a scene. They're very very lucky I didn't fancy fish and chips, that's all I'm saying. Their saving grace was the older woman on the restaurant till, she said if it'd been her serving, she'd have sold The Husband a portion of shepherd's pie, only 5 minutes in, it would've been heath and safety ok. Sometimes the young make bad decisions.
Today we went in search of Andy Scott's Kelpies. Being an Andy Scott fan because of his stag Hamish, I am aware of the much anticipated massive Kelpies he's in the process of manufacturing, which are planned to arrive at The Falkirk Wheel in 2012. I was also aware that there are the scaled down smaller versions already out there. We spotted the tops of the mini versions off the M9 again. It's really infuriating, this glimpse of the silver horse heads as your driving on the M9 near Grangemouth, but you just can't figure out how to drive to them. T'internet tells us they're at lock 2 of a canal just outside Grangemouth. But even Eddie Izzard on the sat nav can't figure out how to get to them.
So, determined to get to the bottom of this conundrum I looked into visiting The Falkirk Wheel and planned on asking the Falkirk Wheel people how to get to the mini Kelpies. And hence, today we did The Falkirk Wheel, would've been churlish not to. The Falkirk Wheel, what can I say, it IS impressive, as a feat of engineering. It is after all "the World's first and only rotating boat lift", now is that because no one else in the world needs one, or because it's not a universally agreed financially sound good idea?
DOING The Falkirk Wheel is a massive non-event. By it's very nature, it is engineering, it isn't exciting. And though prior to The Falkirk Wheel, moving your boat from there to there, either way between The Forth & Clyde Canal and The Union Canal, would've taken a day! A whole day! Due to having to displace so much water it took a whole day! And now with modern engineering ingenuity it takes only 4 minutes to move your boat the same actual 35 metre height, they do stretch out the experience as much as they can, to justify their claims of "a great day out!" and the £7.95 I spose.
And because, when your actually getting on a boat and waiting for launch time, which when we purchased the tickets, we were told was NOW, we'd just made it by minutes. Then you wait another 10 minutes while they let the stragglers get on, then Eddie and Mike take their sweet time busying themselves looking important with their life jackets on and Eddie spins out his commentary speech with his dry Glasgow humour (jokes as funny as they could possibly be given the situation, and he has adopted a certain Frankie Boyle delivery style, so all credit to him). Then being lifted up, then sailing over the aquaduct to reach a wide enough bit to turn the boat around, then sail back across and go back down again, they spin it out to an hour of tourist trip experience. Thing is, that might all look a wee bit awe-inspiring from the ground, but just a wee bit, because the boat disappears behind the metal sides holding the water and boat, all you see is the cogs and gears turning, and it's all very big and metal and slowly does it.
Being on the boat all you get is a slight feeling of movement as the horizon shifts and the windows of the boat are all grime and rain stained, so not even good photo opportunities from up there, apart from the little bit of open space without window up front, and Eddie tells you you're only aloud to take a turn at sticking your camera out. They should look at improving photo opportunities along the ride. When the boat gets to the top Eddie and Mike are out on a platform which looks perfectly safe to me, but the public aren't allowed. That would offer great photo opportunity for tourists.
And I don't know how much this cost to build or how much tourist revenue it produces, if it's likely to ever make the money back and cover the running costs, because lets be honest, the canals of Scotland, however much we wish for them to stay and be looked after, they aren't actually really needed in today's modern transport link system. I'm guessing The Falkirk Wheel will only ever make tourist money. And the business/conference centre side of things, if a boss tried to impress me with a Falkirk Wheel job perk...I'd probably fail to attend.
So back to Andy Scott's Kelpie Heads, the 35 metre ones are planned to be the centrepiece of the Falkirk Helix project and will be the biggest horse sculpture in the world. The mini versions are sitting at the entrance to The Falkirk Wheel Visitor Centre. When I asked The Falkirk Wheel people where they are, a man told me...out the door there. He didn't tell me there are actually two sets. We were a bit amazed they'd moved them from aside the M9 to The Wheel overnight. Wasn't till I Googled more in-depth when we got back home that I discovered there's two sets, and we're none the wiser as to how to get to the ones by the M9.
Much as I adore Hamish, Andy Scott's nice little stag sculpture, even I have to admit, The Falkirk Wheel is not all that pretty, it's engineering, it's big metal grey functional, and some people have to live with it practically in their back gardens. It's enough of an eyesore without two huge horse heads.
The Husband and I watched Despicable Me. It's not a common event, me buying an animation DVD, the last one that turned my head was The Incredibles. Despicable Me lives up to the hype, funny and fantastic, we lurved.
23/02/11Boiler Room, A Serious Man and Volver
Since The Husband finished The Starry Towers Guttering Project he's been preparing his bikes for his annual pre-race-season track week meet in the South of France next month. I know it sounds like I should be gagging to accompany The Husband on this trip to the South of France, but I've been before. It rained, it was cold, cold enough that it snowed and all there is to do is watch motorbikes go round and round. And the only female I had to keep company with, watching our men go round and round was The Scummy Weegie who believed in all things alternative therapy. She was hard work, she had issues. She told me if I thought of the colour pink I could safely leave my handbag unattended and no one would steal it or pilfer my purse. Maybe that works for her and her rubbish handbags, but it certainly won't work for my bang on trend quality handbags. She told me when her old Granny died a Robin came in her window, and that was her Granny visiting. She told me a lot of mental stuff I found hard to stomach, and I didn't even get a free crystal or an Indian Head Massage, not even a promise of distance Reiki, she was all talk.
The Husband and I watched Boiler Room, which was good, I enjoyed the Ben Affleck and Vin Diesel bits especially. The Coen Brother's A Serious Man wasn't all that good, not so much black humour, more boring, bleak and unbelievable to be honest. The down-trodden husband was in need of a right good slap to shake him out of his chicken hearted acceptance of being bullied by everyone he knows. You can't help but feel sorry for him, but who would really put up with all that? He put up with a load of shite, then it ended, most unsatisfactory. And what was the bit at the start all about? The bit with the ghost getting stabbed was a short telling of "The Dybbuk", a Jewish folklore tale, a Dybbuk being a malevolent spirit in human form. Absolutely nought to do with the rest of the movie.
Then this evening we watched Volver with Penélope Cruz, the 2006 Spanish film by director Pedro Almodóvar. We both really enjoyed it, she really is captivating, she shines, the Cruz woman, the story is great and the rest of the mainly female cast did a fantastic job too. The www tells me volver is Spanish for 'to come back' and at the 2006 Cannes Film Festival it won two awards, Best Screenplay and Best Actress, which was shared by the six main actresses, that's nice.
I've been reading about the work of Pedro Almodóvar and figured we should try one of his more recent and most successful movies, then explore the rest if we liked this one. I will be making good use of my two favourite DVD Online Shopping Comparison Sites find-dvd.co.uk and best-dvd-price.co.uk and bagging the Almodóvar back catalogue at the best prices out there. I will pursue Mr Almodóvar in the same manner I hunt down Quentin Tarantino, Kevin Smith, The Afflecks, Matt Damon, Mr Christopher Walken, Nic Cage, Will Ferrell and Jesse Eisenberg. He has been warned.
The Coen Brothers could learn a lot from Pedro Almodóvar, on how to make the movie watcher care.
20/02/11The Starry Towers Guttering Project, Las Vegas Wedding with Elvis on YouTube OCD happy and the Arab World burning
Good news also, on the Las-Vegas-Wedding-With-Elvis-on-YouTube front. When The Husband first told me our wedding would be recorded on DVD I was scared, having never been filmed before, and me so shy an' all.
Then The Husband told me he'd be putting it on YouTube, I told him an emphatic NO! He did what he always does in them type situations when I'm afraid and worried and plead to his better nature and kindness. But I got used to the idea and gradually got to liking it being out there. When we'd had about 50 hits on YouTube I was amazed, and I started telling everyone I spoke to how to check it out. I really went a bit hyper pushy with it for the 4, 5, 6 months after the initial release, got a bit OCD-collector about it all.
Recently, with our one year anniversary approaching (March 5th) I discovered we were up in the 900s with the viewing figures, and the OCD-collector side of me took control again. I wanted to hit 1000 before the 5th of March. News is, we done it. I missed the 1000 mark, but got a screen capture pic at 1001.
It's all kicking off in the Arab World is it not? When it comes to newspapers I only read the Sunday Times magazines, and either give the inky-dirty broad-sheet bits to The Parents or stick them bits straight in the recycling two minutes after The Husband has turned his back. And when I go to work it's for 13 hours at a time and I simply don't get a minute to watch any TV, let alone the TV news.
I fulfill my world political knowledge needs by listening to The Bugle podcast, (weekly satirical news podcast hosted by John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman) and I do that religiously. The basics seem to be, Arab World Middle East type countries, some of which I've barely even heard of, are corrupt autocratic nations and the sectarian element is MAJOR (religious neural pathways in over-drive again). That there's the basic problem. They've been doing wrong over there for a long long while. Seems at long last, the people are revolting...and from what I've seen, don't look to me to disagree with that.
It's all rather exciting really, I'm playing down my political-knowledge, giving the lite version, I am aware of years of abuse from such figure-heads as Libya's Gaddafi and his 41 year rule. And The Husband gives me the potted Idiot's Guide to any topic I ask of him, his knowledge is extensive on just about everything. I say The Middle East should go for it, and we'll see what we have when they're done, the Western World should sit back or 'monitor the situation', we should just adapt to what-ever happens. Things can only get better, for the people.
17/02/11Fifty Dead Men Walking stirs up my highly-evolved neural anti-religion anti-aggression anti-idiot network
Stupid people started this battle in the first place, The Husband says it was cos the minority Protestants were backed by the English government and the Catholic majority were obviously a bit miffed and wanted to keep a united Ireland. I've always been most influenced in my thinking on Ireland by my abhorrence of the modern day IRA type Catholic bloodlust and their evil doings, knee-capping, torture, shooting, bombs, all that shite. As Ben Kingsley's character says in the movie, "terrorists are killers who've found a cause to kill for". And I find it difficult to separate the term 'Catholic' from their shocking record on paedophilia and other such major league hypocrisy. But back to this particular aspect of religious extremism, it's bad people attaching themselves to an organisation they can support which supports them back, encouraging and feeding their delusions. Give just a thought to torturers. The men who knee-cap, cut bits off and drive nails through other bits, while demanding information from their victims. They take electricity and use it to fuel DIY equipment to inflict pain and physical assault. Them people aren't normal, but if they find a 'cause' they find others who value them and pay them to enjoy their sick kicks, it should be unbelievable, but it's a fact of human life.
Having watched FDMW I say...just give Northern Ireland back to the Irish, they deserve it. It's not such a good catch you know, really just not worth the bother. Sure there's little bits of it have a certain scenic charm, in a bleak Scottish rugged beauty type way, but they don't have anything even nearly as good as the Highlands. And the ugly war-torn urban bits are so very unsightly they cancel out the good bits. And they're skint, and always have been, and it's full of religion. I'm not at all keen on religion. It's the main excuse for nearly all the bad stuff in the world.
The movie also made me question, and so far I have no answer. Why the Scots, having historically been recipients of the same treatment from England, why there aren't any modern times Scots mad and bad enough to do as the Irish do in response. Following the 'terrorists are killers who've found a cause to kill for' theory, must be the case that Scottish people just don't have a terrorist nature. I do remember the giant slogans daubed on the side of buildings...ENGLISH OUT! OK, I remember seeing it on the wall of one old derelict cottage, once, years ago.
I know there were and probably still are, Scots on both bigoted sides, sympathetic enough to the Irish cause to support their Irish pals and relatives, but that comes from the historic religion Proddy/Tim thing, which you can witness by watching a major football match any weekend, the Scottish football scene still reeks of sectarianism. But Scots don't bomb the English to make them get out of Scotland, and just as well, or The Husband and I would be torn apart, or have to move to Canada.
It's madness and humans are capable of such ugly brutality and evil, most of it in the name of the man-made concept of religion...crazy or what? To my sensible, non-violent, non-deluded, atheist way of thinking, mental illness catagories should include a section for religious believers, they're a non-sensible, over-emotional, deluded and mad bunch. Truly believing that there is a 'god' ruling over a bunch of the Earth's human population, a man in the sky, an omnipresent super-natural being with powers and ultimate power is...preposterous...get the straight jacket and draw up 100mg Modecate IM please nurse. It's a fine line between religion and mental illness. The most recent research and thinking on the so called 'God-Spot' is that the human brain has evolved to have a whole range of belief systems, networks activated by religious beliefs overlap with those that mediate political beliefs and moral beliefs...I can believe that. If your religious and political networks are sparking like jumper cables attached to a 4000 watt battery, seems your moral network's most likely a damp squib. The power of brain washing can't be ignored either.
I read an article in The Sunday Times Magazine at the weekend there, about the current Irish factions hell-bent on maiming, murdering and breaking the Peace Treaty. When will the human brain evolve just a little bit further and do away with the network connections tying religion/delusion/aggression so strongly?
It takes a right good movie to get me this stirred.
16/02/11The Last Podcaster Standing, Las Vegas Wedding With Elvis and the Starry Towers guttering update...not enough to get a tick in the guttering box, but nearly there
Them nice people over at The Last Podcaster Standing have mentioned me, so for gad's sake please click on the link to their podcast download web thingy in The Marilyn's World Lobby, or use this one, or that one up there. And tell your comedy podcast-loving friends, spread the word.They're a bunch of extremely enthusiastic podcasters deserving of a much bigger audience than they have at present. Help these talented newbies on their way to international podcast stardom, enjoy the free entertainment and feel good bout your small part in the meteoric rise that will surely be theirs. Don't be put off by episode 10's blatant sexual references, they do talk about more than just sex, erm, honest they do.
They mentioned me in my Twitter disguise...@Starry Towers.
Encouraging more www clicking and number crunching, can I just refer again to The Las Vegas Wedding With Elvis YouTube video. Can I? Of course I can, Marilyn's World is my world, I'm free to do what I want, any old time. We're up to 978. Woohoo! I'm aiming for 1000 hits for the one year wedding anniversary, please, if you don't mind. March 5th...go to it. Plearse, plearse and prettiest plearse, only 22 needed. Is it too much to ask? I don't think so.
The Husband's been back up the 6 metre scaffolding...while I've been holding the NHS coal-face together single-handedly on my last couple 13 hr long shift days. I reckon that's just as dangerous as being up a 6 metre scaffold. It's not? Challenge me at marilyn@marilynsworld.com, if you dare. Or just twat me @Starry Towers. But The Husband's done a cracking good job too, with only the bit of guttering above the roof of the Starry Towers single floor extension, or as I call it, the Northern Wing, still to be done. That's going to be tricky, with the single floor extension and it's slated sloping roof, being the only obvious place from which to reach the two story guttering above. The Husband has plans though, and as long as I don't have to leave ground level, I'm totally behind him, and below him.
Full story and photo update will be on The Starry Towers page as soon as I get it done.
14/02/11Scaffolding, BAFTAs and Up In The Air
It's not that I didn't try, I did try, but only made it two thirds up. I wasn't keen. It was cold, wet, a little dirty and very very high. Maybe my Dune Wedge Faux Fur Top Boots weren't the most appropriate footwear either. If The Husband wasn't up 6 metre scaffolding this week he'd have done the ironing while I'm at work, so I felt obliged to get that little household task taken care of, have to show him I'm invaluable and contributing.
Photos of The Husband on top of 6 metre tall scaffolding will be available on the Starry Towers page when I sort them out later in the week.
There's a new cardigan and two blue dresses on The Star Swag Blog, little February treats from me to me.
BAFTAs last night, I watched till I got too bored and stuck a DVD on. The ones that I was pleased to note were Christopher Morris's Four Lions, the Inception special effects, Tom Hardy in Kick Ass and dead legends Leslie Neilson and Dennis Hopper.
I watched Up In The Air. Bit slow, but always a pleasure to look at George Clooney in a suit.
12/02/11what? no guttering? and The Town
Ten hits closer to the ton-up, The Vegas Wedding With Elvis video on YouTube is at 968 tonight. Stating the obvious, there's only 32 more needed, save you doing the maths.
The Husband and I watched The Town this evening. SPOILER ALLERT!!!!
A fantastic heist/lurve story movie, all the actors do a great job, it looks good, it's exciting and almost totally believable. If it were real I think the FBI would've had them a lot quicker than they did, the relationship between the star witness female and the star criminal would've given them away a while before it did in the movie. I know the FBI guy says "we'll never get twenty four hour surveillance unless one of these idiots converts to Islam", but really, surely someone at the police station would've been put on some level of surveillance that would've got the star witness and the star crim together in the same place a lot earlier than they sussed it. The movie takes place in the Charlestown neighbourhood of Boston, it comes over as claustrophobically small, how many other gangs are there in town capable of such a string of outrageous robberies?
When surrounded by what looked like the entire US of A police force after the Redsox baseball stadium robbery, I commented, he's going to have to be Agent Bourne to get out of this one, I imagined him leaving via air vent type shafts with super-secret-agent style knowledge and skill, but no, he just sticks his fake police jacket back on and walks out, mingling. Granted there's a lot going on, distractions and what not to bamboozle even the best trained police officers, but...just a wee bit far fetched.
That all said, we really enjoyed the film. Ben Affleck just keeps on getting better and better. He co-wrote, directed and starred, and he was acting his little acting socks off, especially his long speeches scenes. I'm a huge Affleck (Ben and in more recent times, his little brother Casey), fan and The Town is proof I'm right. I also lurve his ol' mate Matt Damon, good guys. And you can't watch a Ben and/or Matt movie without the Silverman/Kimmel, "I'm f*****g Matt Damon/Ben Affleck" videos/songs coming to mind. Then there was Kevin Smith's "I'm f*****g Seth Rogan", and what with Smith/Damon/Affleck connections over the years and my adoration of nearly all things Smith, but especially Jay and Silent Bob, Dogma and The SModcast Podcast Network and all it's works, I'm happy.
11/02/11The Boy update on his first job, Wedding Anniversary approaching, rumours and From Paris With Love
his life...The Mum (me), The Step-Dad, The Dad and The Grand Parents hide their knowing smirks, don't you just lurve it when it a cunning plan seems to be working?I don't know how or why, but The Las Vegas Wedding with Elvis video on YouTube has reached the giddy heights of 958 viewings, gosh, that's like, nearly one thousand! Our one year anniversary is approaching, so help us reach the ton for our anniversary and I promise I'll let it lie. It's really cute though, I watch it regularly, though it doesn't matter how many times I click on it, I've been there before and repeat visits don't get counted, so it's not me that's knocked the figures up.
He is a fantastic Elvis and The Graceland Wedding Chapel on Las Vegas Blvd. is a genuine Vegas Elvis wedding chapel experience. After our wedding I emailed them, and guess what...they've put my totally honest testimonial on their website. They've made public my entire email, including the bit bout how I thought the reception staff could buck up their ideas a little. My email testimonial is about one fifth or sixth of the way down the page, 5th March 2010.
I reckon the Vegas wedding video, or stories of and ideas emerging from said stories, may have added an ingredient or two to the rumour monger type nonsense I've recently been made aware of. Word on the street, from one particular direction, has it that I got deported from the US of A! And that The Husband is banged up at someone's pleasure! Rumour doesn't specify if it's at her majesty's or Obama's. But 'they' say The Husband got done for drug smuggling! The Husband that doesn't even open a bottle of beer or lift a glass of red, unless we're away on a trip. To try to imagine him and drugs in the same life...far beyond my abilities, just can't do it.
Obviously the rumour mongers haven't found Marilyn's World, or they'd have seen the evidence that both The Husband and I are, and always have been, at liberty to work, rest and play anywhere we want in the world. I'm an NHS nurse, you don't get to stay one of them if you've been deported from anywhere on drug related charges. Tis funny. I'm guessing cos The Husband works abroad, makes good money, has a couple of really nice vehicles and cos Starry Towers has become one impressive house/drive/gardens...I'm guessing maybe some previous so-called 'friends' are watching the signs, seeing the changes, and dramatising everything. Crazy mad people do exist, even when you think you left them far behind in your wake. I'd never have known the word on the street if it wasn't for an ex telling a mutual friend, and the mutual friend telling me. I was astounded, that anyone from back then even cares enough to think about me, let alone spread rumours, mad as get out. The Husband wanted me to misinform the ex...let the word on the street be that he's a mean MF with the finances to have the best lawyers in the land...but really...look at him there...with Elvis and me in Vegas...he's just a hard working, intelligent oil field guy. Financially...oil field is always a good thing and I've got used to it. But I more than pay my own way in this relationship, as a nurse. It's sad that the West Lothian mind-set is that our life-style, as they see it, could only be achieved by illegal undertakings on a level that would result it deporting and jail terms.
The Husband and I watched From Paris With Love this evening. A whole heap of liberties taken, plot holes and nonsensical twists in abundance. Though it was highly enjoyable watching Mr Travolta happily piling on the over-acting ham-factor, enjoying himself to the max. Loved the nod to Pulp Fiction with his Royale with cheese habit, everything was OTT in the extreme. But hey, it's Friday night, it hit the relaxing entertainment button spot on. I predict a sequel, from Rome With Love? From Berlin? From Edinburger??? The Smeatonator could get a wee job as a Weegie anti-terrorist extra?
09/02/11New podcast links and them gypsies
It's the Podcast Shuffle in The Lobby. Alan Davies (My Secret Dream Crush as accidently admitted to The Husband) no longer does his Arsenal FC 'It's Up For Grabs Now' podcast, and for reasons unknown to me, has re-emerged with his new Arsenal podcast 'The Tuesday Club'. Sounds the same, seems to be the same My Secret Dream Crush Alan Davies and his same friends, they're still talking about football in general and Arsenal in particular. It's Up For Grabs was hosted by Playbackmedia.com and if you go there now Alan's original podcast would still appear to be there, BUT...the links lead not to Up For Grabs, but to the new 'Footballtastically Arsenal' podcast. And the Up For Grabs archive is gone.Hmmm...I'm guessing there's been a falling out at Playbackmedia.com, there's mention of 'a sudden shock at Playback Towers' and 'our previous Arsenal podcast' with not a mention of the words Up For Grabs or Alan or Davies. Apart from on the picture showing Footballtastically as the UK’s Number 1 Sports podcast on iTunes, I hate iTunes, with Alan's new Tuesday Club at #2 spot. But I could just be giving too much credit to the overly-Ms-Marple corner of my brain.
Footballtastically Arsenal is OK, two episodes so far, I've put a link in The Lobby. It's no way as funny as Alan. I've given it a whirl because I recognised the name Boyd Hilton of HEAT magazine. I was nearly put off because I recognised the name Dermot O’Leary of X Factor. It's Hilton, O'Leary and TV producer Dan Baldwin (Mr Holly Willoughby). I don't even like football in general, nor Arsenal in particular. I think...and this is the overly-Ms-Marple corner of my brain at it again, but I think Boyd Hilton is a fan of Richard Herring.
No way never will Footballtastically Arsenal stay above The Tuesday Club on a regular basis on iTunes, did I mention I hate iTunes? Maybe just once or twice. That top spot rating is just cos they're new and Arsenal/footie fans are finding them by clicking on Alan Davies links at Playbackmedia.com...I think. Links to The Tuesday Club and Footballtastically Arsenal are in The Lobby, as well as a link to The Last Podcaster Standing.The new addition to my favourite American podcasts, The Last Podcaster Standing, are friends Grant, Jason, Joe and Tom from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Scraping the barrel for news that falls between the cracks, discussing bizarre, strange, weird and idiotic headlines from around the world. They found me on Twitter, perhaps because I follow Kevin Smith et al. I like them, and liking them mor
e the more I listen. Give them a try.Them gypsies, yes them crazy gypsies, the ones in My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, continue to appal, I'm appalled anyway. Men only bareback fighting matches now, no skill, just throwing punches wildly and a fair bit of kicking when the opponent is down. And when I say men only, I'm not complaining that women aren't allowed to strip off their gaudy neon green bikini tops and participate, I'm mentioning the sexism aspect that women are forbidden from being in the audience. And there's gambling on fight outcomes on the side. Last week they detailed how their 'culture', their 'tradition' has them taking young girls out of school age 13 to start a life of cleaning the caravan.
I say they're crazy, not just because of their really tacky taste in clothing, but also because time and time again they have permitted us to witness them breaking the law of the land, in the name of their 'tradition', that don't wash with me. The law is the law, that applies to everyone, me, travellers, Muslims and Members of Parliament. Even Jim Divine knows that now.
07/02/11The Boy...officially in gainful employment, Top Gear and The Killer Inside Me
The Boy goes to work too now, he started his job. That's all confidential too, so no details, but I'm so proud. He's got induction classroom stuff this first week, involving meeting and mixing with fellow new employees, visiting his assistant manager in department, handing in his job acceptance form and learning some induction stuff. At some point later this week he has to make his way into Edinburger...home of the Scottish Zoo that kills animals instead of preserving them...for another of the induction modules. Won't be long now, after the induction stuff...he'll be finding out what work really is. He came home full of how his day went, and all positive. I'm so proud.
Jonathan Ross on Top Gear with Jeremy Clarkson...I like. Two of my favourite TV guys on the Top Gear sofa for the second time. Stories emerging from Aussie news websites this late evening that Wossy hit his head at 145km/h in the filming of his lap segment, but did no one notice he thanked Allah? Cos at one point I definitely heard him thank Allah, we await the Muslim extremist backlash? Highly entertaining having two of my fav TV guys bitchin' and schmoozin', bantering off and lappin', up each other in their mutual admiration society. Lurverly. JR looking a bit podgy, so I guess the stories of his Spanx T at the British Comedy Awards are true. They got down on the floor to outdo each other in the fitness stakes, no actual press-ups mind you, just holding their own body weights on their arms, ending in a play-fight, funny, you couldn't make this up, though some-one probably did. I don't even mind if the entire thing was done to script.
The Husband's back home, so we watched The Killer Inside Me, as you do when you haven't seen each other for a fortnight. Casey Affleck is high on my list of favourite actors after just 3 movies, loved him in The Assassination Of JJ By The Coward RF, Gone Baby Gone and now as an out and out mentally ill psychopathic sadist killer living a lie in good guy costume till it all goes out of control in a spiral of madness. He does depths of the human condition really well, acting and directing. What a guy.
03/02/11weather , Pig News and Crazy Heart
snow which was persuaded to leave by the sleet and rain that filled the rest of the day. The sleet and rain was joined by an angry wind, and it's still raging out there. Gale force at 34 with gusts of 50 to 60 miles per hour. Combine that with the guttering situation (ie lack of) at Starry Towers and there's a lot of house noises tonight. Water running off the roof is pouring onto monoblock and puddling on the areas of garden soil with poorer drainage. The Starry Towers gardens will cope, a bit of rain is no stranger round here.Pig News : Edinburgh Zoo killed two Red River Hog piglets, Sammi and Becca, a couple months ago. How very dare they. They dare on advice from The European Endangered Species Programme (EEP). Might of known there'd be a European directive behind it. I don't mind the fact that Scotland is in the bit of the world they call Europe, I do mind that after centuries of England being in charge, we now have feckin Europe to bow to, cap in hand.
Edinburgh Zoo then permitted the same pair of Red River Hogs, Bella and Hamish, to get it on again and the resulting triplets, Ellis, Nelson and Moses are about to be put to death in the same manner as their older, deader siblings. These piglets are 'surplus to requirements' too according to the EEP.Edinburgh Zoo was so pleased to announce the new arrivals, it's still on their website, this article has the audacity to mention the older siblings too, no mention that the older and deader Sammi and Becca are no longer with us, and they seem to be steadfastly ignoring the fact they know fine well that youn
g Moses, Nelson and Ellis won't be with us for much longer. Disgustingly misleading, they're advertising the dead and the soon to be dead babies, promoting them as reasons to visit and support the zoo! I can't believe the cheek of them. They are currently proclaiming the triplets as Hogging The Limelight, after a second year of successful breeding, like they've done a good thing. FFS...the twins got a whiff of euthanizing gas from the zoo vets two months ago. They know fine well the 'limelight hoggers' have short use by dates. AND IT'S STILL ON THEIR WEBSITE!
There's a worldwide breeding programme which works to co-ordinate the breeding of many species through a process called 'recommendation'. If a species does not have a 'recommendation' the EEP suggests that the animals are culled rather than rehomed.
'If a species does not have a recommendation'...they make it sound like it's the species own doing...like, how very remiss of the hogs, silly ickle critters...you didn't fill out a form. You knew you shoulda, your punishment is mass infanticide. I'm guessing the fate of all future Red River Hog piglets at Edinburgh Zoo isn't going to be any more pleasant. The pig/hog keepers at Edinburgh Zoo seem to be rubbish at caring for their charges properly, in a manner that might prevent slaughter. If they're killing the ones they advertise on their website and give individual pet names to, surely they must be offing the less important ones on an even more regular basis. I was never really a fan of the zoo concept, but this has shocked me big time. My instinct tells me it must be wrong to cage wild animals, but I was swayed with ideas of lesser evils, perhaps zoos were required to help save endangered species.
The experts must know better than I do, but this, it's just not right. Look at the words they use on their website...celebrating, bred successfully, delighted, playful, cute, really good to see them...they should've added...and get here soon, or you'll be too late, bacon sandwich anyone?The newspapers are calling the Red River Hogs 'endangered', but sadly they're in the Least Concern category. The LC category just means the world-wide population of the creature has been counted and recorded. It doesn't mean they are actually endangered. Humans are in the LC category. So I can't get on my high horse about the slaughtering of an endangered species, I can only get angry at the use and abuse and should be contacting trading standards, complaining about Edinburger Zoo false advertising.
An Edinburger Zoo woman said..."The welfare of our animals is extremely important to us and while we cannot replace their habitat in the wild, we can ensure the animals in our collection lead as natural a life as possible." So being gassed in infancy is leading a natural life? This is in defence of them allowing the animals to keep on breeding 'naturally'. I'm guessing the natural goes...mating, inpregnating, continues through the birthing part, a bit of parental bonding, breast feeding an all...then...oh...where'd they go? I must've forgot where I put the babies. I s'pose pigs must forget the last lot as soon as they move on to the next.
On my own I watched Crazy Heart. Jeff Bridges plays an alcoholic country singer...aren't they the the best kind of country singer? Nice soundtrack, bit boringly predictable for a movie though.
02/02/11An Education
I've read an article by Lynn Barber, and she seems to hold a grudge against her parents. She seems to blame them for all her mistakes, including I'm assuming, her 'brief' girl/boyfriend relationship with drug smuggler Howard Marks while she was at university obtaining her degree. For 7 years in her 20s she worked her way very successfully up the career ladder, as editorial assistant, literary editor, features editor and deputy editor, at Penthouse magazine. Does she blame her parents for all her decisions to accept the job promotions there too? Is she totally missing, or avoiding, the obvious? She's complaining about her parent's lack of female empowerment (back then), while advancing her own career through the medium of the porn industry (a decade later).
I think Ms Barber should take into account the time, it was 50 years ago! She was 16...it was legal, a tad eyebrow raising for today's audience, but it's still legal today, age of consent and all that. I do not see them as so essentially 'in the wrong'. She seemed happy to be getting her own way at the time. She was obviously a highly intelligent and determined 16 year old. It would've been extremely difficult for any parents to have prevented the relationship, to have put their parental feet down and forbid the relationship that she obviously wanted to have, still would be. No one was putting her in a burka and marrying her off at age 13 to a cousin. I reckon she's being harsh on her old parents, where's the love? A barrel load of over-indulgent self-pity is what I recognised in successful journalist and author Lynn Barber. Successful, highly-acclaimed, rich...where exactly did her parents get it so wrong in the gifts they gave her...providing her genetics, giving birth to her, her comfortable upbringing, allowing her to make her own decisions? Just watch one episode of Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and see how fortunate 16 year old Lynn Barber was. I suggest the ensuing decades where her parents and she maintained their parent/child relationship...where she complains they never seemed to forgive her for dumping the older man...grow up woman!
Highlights the difference for females in different parts of the World. Here's this 60-something independent successful educated woman still bemoaning her parents getting it wrong in the 1960s, and there's 19 year old Muslim girls being stoned to death in 2011. However, was an absolutely beautiful film to look upon and was entertaining enough.
It was over to www.freepdfconvert.com again for me, and the article, in Lynn Barber's own words, describing the two years of her life that had the older man in them is here. It makes interesting reading if you have watched the movie and feel any inclination to know a wee bit more, and left me cold at her level of unforgiving.
I rarely review a movie in such great depth, so it's a measure of how much I must've associated with Lynn's story. I assume the reason is I too was a daughter of parents, in the UK, 20 years later in history, but I too was once a young girl becoming a woman. As is the case for all children, fortunate enough to be in a good place. We grow up, we develop our own personalities, we make decisions and our parents try their best for us.
We may regret in later life, look back and think...but OMG, I was but a child, what were my parents thinking, allowing that man to take me out, to sit in their kitchen and chat to them for hours, to borrow their car to take me out, to drop in and visit my Mum during the day while I was at Uni, behind my back, developing his own relationship with them, rather than orchestrated by me and through me at all times. Yes I felt that too at the time, same as Lynn describes in the article I've linked to above, but I only allowed the teenage me to recognise the truth just shortly after I chucked him, same as Lynn. That's all normal. Was me that made my parents accept this man into their lives for 6 months. I blame my parents for nothing, they gave me everything, the rest...it's all down to me.
27/01/11Religious Zealot News, David Platt's reaction at TV Awards and Big Fat Gypsy Wedding
Religious Zealot News : of a particularly horrendous nature. Them blood thirsty Taliban bastards have been at it again, killing in the name of their non-existent god. The brutal uncut version on LiveLeak.com will make your stomach churn, my eyes filled with tears. Siddqa is put in a waist-high hole that obviously appears to be where she will be burried, then stoned to death. It's an ugly scene with dozens of men enthusiastically lobbing rocks and stones till she is collapsed and bleeding, her burka soaked in blood, she is barely alive, then she is shot by an AK-47-totting Taliban fighter. They bring the young man, Khayyam next and he is blindfolded then stoned to death. Apparently that's what you get for being adulterous young lovers. It's extremely distressing to watch, I can't start to imagine the terror and pain of the young couple.Taliban spokesman Zabiullah Mujahid defended this atrocious double murder in a telephone interview he said: "Anyone who knows about Islam knows that stoning is in the Koran, and that it is Islamic law. There are people who call it inhuman - but in doing so they insult the Prophet. They want to bring foreign thinking to this country." Wicked, evil mad men.
Here it is, young actor Jack P Shepherd of Coronation Street fame, David Platt's face at TV Awards last night.
Big Fat Gypsy Wedding is awesomely, amazingly, verging on criminally, terribly, astoundingly...I'm lost for words. I just watched an episode and seems all they talk about is their travelling people culture and how important it is to hold on to it, pass it on through the generations and prevent outside influences invading their lives. But all I see are young girls, some of them are really young girls, from the approximate age of 5, dressed like blinged-out chavs doing Vegas wedding via burlesque stripper, with fake tan, false eyelashes, glitter spray and full slap, dancing provocatively to chart music. Brain-washed babies bred for marriage. Even in the event of a Catholic Communion ceremony the little girls look more like miniature Katie Price brides than brides of Christ. Similar to the USA child beauty queen pageant scene, it's just not right. I'm struggling to see traditional gypsy culture, and can't help but see the sexualisation of children.
26/01/11The Boy is innocent, evolution in action, Twitter Update, Bottle Rocket and The Squid and the Whale
Evolution in action over at Port Lympne Wild Animal Park in Kent. Ambam, a 21 year old critically endangered Western Lowland Gorilla born in captivity, walks upright a lot. He has a sister and a half-sister who do it too, and his father did it before them. The specialists are guessing it's to gain height advantage with the aim of getting food before the others, and maybe to keep the front feet dry in wet conditions, in a kind of yee-uch, don't want to get my hands dirty type way. I think, if evolution wants to continue down this road for Gorillas, it should start reducing the pot-belly size, that's going to hurt the spine carrying all that up front. Kinda looks like a man in a Gorilla costume as he strolls across the Gorilla enclosure in the clip, click on this photo to see. There's a second longer clip on the same YouTube page. Is that a man in a Gorilla costume? Nahhhh, the animal park wouldn't engage in such nonsense, wouldn't it not? Though if this was April the 1st...but it isn't, so it's real. Truth is, Gorillas are just as un-evloved as wee short beer-belly fat guys without razors.
Twitter Update : I'm @Starry Towers, am following 27 and being followed by 4. One of my followers is C, my real friend in real life. Another is actor and stand-up Richard Rycroft, who's following me back in return for my following him in his endeavour to gather more followers than Stephen Fry while never actually twitting. Was an Andrew Collins twit suggestion.
The other two following me...I have absolutely no idea why and have made no similar return gesture, I suspect they're some sort of cyber punks just out to up their followers numbers or maybe an internet trawler bot type thing, who knows what's possible. My Twitter experience so far is as disappointing as I expected it to be and everyone I'm following is behaving just as I already knew they do by listening to podcasts and reading references here and there. Kevin Smith tweets nearly as often as as he talks, and that's a lot. He's just returned from Sundance with his latest movie, Red State, and is embroiled in a marketing strategy debacle now. Richard Herring twits a lot and gets involved in, lets call them debates, and Jonathan Ross does a bit, mostly early in the day so far.
My real friend C likes Twitter, though she twits very little herself, she added me to her 'followed' list and twitted me a welcome, and I tweeted her back, so I know I can connect on there. Today I got all brave and tried to twit back at someone else's tweet but it hasn't showed up on his page. I obviously don't understand all the twatting ins and outs at this early stage. So far I'd tweeted 3 messages in conversation with C at the start. My brave tweet was in reply to a Douglas Lindsay tweet. I see my tweet on my page, but it isn't on his. Maybe he has to 'follow' me back to see my twits?
My favourite author Douglas Lindsay is tweeting a Barney Thomson novel in 140-or-less character tweet-sized bites.
"Home of the 10 Second - 10 a.m. Barney Thomson Novel". Now I think bout it, he'd maybe rather not have people post on his page, it would disturb the flow of his 10 second 10am novel. Oooops. But today his 10am tweet was "That morning, Barney again found himself in trouble for making the observation that women don't understand the short back & sides law.
If you don't know my celeb author friend's work, Barney is a barber, so that was a funny and topical tweet. I'll stay on Twitter to follow the Barney novel, hope to get better at it and benefit by finding out stuff I need to know.
This evening Twitter told me that David Platt aka Jack P Shepherd pulled a face when Eastenders won a TV award that Coronation Street didn't, it was a Twitting Trend, and I admit I did hanker after wishing I'd seen his face, if it's a Twitter Trend surely it must've been spectacular, but I suspect I'll see it tomorrow on the www. TV was rubbish this evening so I didn't tune in to the awards thing and watched DVDs instead.
I watched Bottle Rocket for the second time this evening, it took me a load of déjà vu to remember I have watched this before. This is the charming directional debut of Wes Anderson starring the Owen brothers Luke and Owen and James Caan. Absurd and smiley rather than laugh out loud funny, a quiet little cult movie.
The night was still young so I watched The Squid and the Whale, a Jesse Eisenberg movie I knew I'd never be able to convince The Husband or The Boy to watch with me. Amazing amount of top notch acting that made me squirm. Being the mother of The Boy, who has a similar type father as the father played by Jeff Daniels in this movie, just a wee bit too close to the bone. Glad I watched it without The Boy. Joint custody is extremely difficult for even intelligent caring adults to navigate, and far far worse for children to cope with.
25/01/11funny and ridiculous things
The recently cancelled Visa credit card has been replaced by those red hot purveyors of credit cards with red hot fraud detection and prevention, the Nationwide. Other purveyors of credit cards are available, though I can't personally vouch for their fraud squad. So...there be summit gorgeous on The Star Swag Blog.
Few things, funny, funny and ridiculous or just plain ridiculous...
# 1 Funny Thing : Ricky Gervais at the Golden Globe Awards. What's all the hullabaloo? Didn't the US of A-Listers know what they'd be getting? They should do, he hosted last year and took the same approach then. I figured the invite back this year meant the USA-ians must've liked that performance, or why invite him back for more. How dumb of them to NOT expect him to be so cutting, clever and mean, it's what he does best. These people are the rich and famous, surely just about anything can be laughed off in that fortunate position? apparently not.
He was looking suave, they were being way over-sensitive and showing an extraordinary lack of a self-depreciating SOH.
# 2 Funny and Ridiculous Thing : that woman on CCTV falling into a giant fountain through no one's fault but her own. I watched the clip on TV Sunday morning before heading off for a 13 hr shift, and it made me smile, lightened my mood, cheered me on a dark cold Winter morning. It brought humour and happiness to me and many millions of others who have watched it on the www. And what's her reaction....she's considering suing. Jeeez, lighten up. An American Z Lister with no SOH and a propensity to cash in on the compensation culture.
The CCTV is poor quality and if she'd kept her greed and criminal tendencies under control, 49 year old Cathy Cruz Marrero would've been a local celeb in her tiny bit of Pennsylvania and quickly forgotten in the real world. She was too busy messing with her phone to notice a massive shopping mall water feature, AND she actually works at the Berkshire Mall shopping centre! The security guard who 'leaked' the footage has lost his job. I know it was naughty of him, but he does have a SOH, for that he should be credited.
This woman appeared on Good Morning America with her lawyer and said someone should have helped instead of making her a national laughing stock. Helped? How exactly? By banning the irresponsible from owning a mobile phone? She's an overnight sensation, and there's no other way that would've happened, she should be grateful.
This bit is really laughable, she's claiming the moral high ground, claiming she only wishes to highlight privacy and security problems at the mall and to teach people, especially kids, about the dangers of texting while walking.
Bit cheeky to start trying to fool the world into believing your an upstanding member of society who only wishes to improve the rights of your fellow human beings when you have a criminal record. Story is she has a history of a hit-and-run and several theft charges, and currently owes $4,177 in restitution for charges she allegedly made to a co-worker's credit cards, and that's a bit of a sore subject with me. She's apparently hoping to avoid jail time and get house arrest, at least the rest of society will be safe if she's languishing in the comfort of her own home, unless she learns how to commit credit card fraud online. But even if she does, the red hot Nationwide fraud squad will save me.
#3 Ridiculous Thing : losing your job over a private conversation becoming public knowledge against your will. Way I see it, a private conversation is a conversation between one (I talk to myself sometimes) or more individuals of like mind. We all say things we'd rather no one other than the person we're talking to at that time hears. Not one of us is hyper-PC at all times in all situations. We all say stuff that could be considered an -ist if we said it in front of others who are hyper-sensitive to the -ist. Yes, I'm on bout Andy Gray and the off-side rule. I think it's a stupid rule, and if I controlled football I'd do away with it. In conversation with The Boy, I demonstrated with TV control gadgets and other such stuff that were on the livingroom coffee table, he says I do seem to understand the basic principles of the rule and he agrees bout not understanding why it exists. And we both agreed it's not offensive to hear someone say women don't understand the off-side rule. It's nonsense to be sacked and vilified for saying such stuff in a private conversation. People of both sexes say sexist stuff all the time every day. Men...they don't this, or they do that...we all generalise on the traits, knowledge and skills of both sexes.
Classic line, Andy Gray talking about a female journo who had published an article on same subject "...complaining about sexism, do me a favour love." Good one, very funny. Football is a man's game, they should be allowed to keep it, they're welcome to it and I like it that way. Then there's the bigger picture, which is much more disturbing, the Rupert Murdoch connection.
If the NHS got a whiff of some of the things I say in private conversation, I would've been sacked a few days after they employed me. And some days I say stuff that I later regret, because I was just mouthing off and talking before thinking at the time...we all do.
21/01/11new mattress
20/01/11credit card fraud, Podcast News, Twitter and The Wolfman
When my Bank Of Scotland debit card got robbed a few years ago, I suspect because I used a cash machine in a garage forecourt, they were able to empty my current account. Didn't help that just after I used the cash machine I'd went off to Rome for a week. They took bout 500 of my Scottish pounds. When I saw my bank statement and Googled the info, the transactions I could trace were for purchasing computer programs, the real hard copies on discs and posted to a real address from an online shop and transferring money through some American company. On that occassion I did get all my money refunded, but it took three months before it was all sorted.
Podcast News : there's been summit missing in my life, summit money can't buy. No Alan Davies podcast since the 13th December. Yet as far as I'm aware football is being played mostly at this time of year. I've always believed that the football season is basically Winter, while it's nice and cold, then they all go off and have a nice long Summer holiday. One of my most favourite podcasts is It's Up For Grabs Now, Mr Davies and friends having a chat and a laugh about football in general, and Arsenal FC in particular. Girls...football has never been so interesting.
There is also the little matter of my Alan Davies infatuation. I made the relationship-rookie mistake of informing The Husband about a rather pleasant dream I had about Mr Davies a wee while ago. My only excuse for this basic faux pas is that on the morning after the dream, I felt so warm and fuzzy and happy inside for such a long time afterwards, that I couldn't keep my big mouth shut. I never felt any attraction to Mr Davies before I started listening to his podcast, but I'm growing so fond of him because he's so funny on the podcast, and hey...he's none too sore on the eyes either...that curly hair would have to be touched...a lot. On the podcast he's so funny and witty, warm and lurverly, and his voice, I really like his voice, his soft Essex accent and that sweet sweet lateral lisp.
Mmmmmm...snap out of it girl...right, back to the Podcast News...Alan has a new podcast called The Tuesday Club. Seems Up For Grabs came to a sudden stop and been replaced with The Tuesday Club. Why hasn't someone told me this already? Eh? Am I s'posed to do everything for myself?
I love listening to podcasts but I'm always suspicious that I might be missing out on some good ones because I just haven't been fortunate enough to stumble upon them by pure chance. I'm no expert on the RSS thing, at all. But I am aware that a load of podcast archives are online in that form. I just figured out I can Google this...libsyn.com/rss. And get back a huge list of results, when I get some spare time I'll have a right good look through the results in the hope of finding some gems I don't know about already.
I've done what I never thought I'd ever do. I signed up to Twitter because of this feeling of missing out, or being the last one in the know. I don't intend to twit, I'll just read the twits of the twitters I sign up to. I'm following 7, Alan Davies (of course), Eddie Izzard, Jonathan Ross, Russell Brand, Kevin Smith, Jason Mewes and my favourite author, Douglas Lindsay. I'll just be doing it on the lappie, not my phone. I don't want it on my phone, and my phone isn't capable of it anyway...as far as I know.
I watched The Wolfman this evening, and found it really boring. I thought it would be better due to Benicio and Anthony Hopkins. And there was Hugo Weaving, I last saw him in PROOF the other night and thought he was acting his Australian socks off just as well as Russell in that one. I guess werewolves are just too clichéd and silly for me these days.
19/01/11Blue Monday, Bin News, Rabbie Burns at Aberfeldy News, Wii and Superhero Movie
Obviously it's all been made much worse by the time of the year, the weather, the Xmas over-spend in conjunction with the realisation that belts need tightened, and even more so this year while this world recession is at the stage it's been going on so long, quite frankly, B O R I N G! The lardy fat weight increase following on from the festive gluttony and winter comfort eating, the sadness of losing The Old Friend, the fracture of The Mum's shoulder, the Bin News situation (I'll explain in a mo), the seemingly constant flow of bad shit and lack of anything happy and joyful, the tragedy on local, national and international level piped constantly to my eyes and ears. But...light appeared at the end of the Starry Tunnel last evening when The Husband, while giving some thought to my melancholic mood plunge, asked me...are you on?
Took me a few seconds to remember that's an archaic description for the bleeding stage of the female's menstrual cycle, then was like a little beam of sunshine had cracked through the wooden shutters onto my grimy filth-encrusted windows of doom...very possibly The Husband was right. And today, proof positive (first positive thing this year), he was right. Why is it that years of the same thing on a monthly basis and time and time again, I don't recognise PMT while it's happening? S'pose that's cos it effects my mood/mental state so badly.
On the one hand this is great, I can get all jolly again...till the next time. But on the other hand, bad news on the Menopause News side of things. Last year after 6 months of no menstrual activity, then November and December witnessing a return to the same old usuals...and that's me having to start again with the process of wishing they'd stop and get it all over with ASAP.
However, the weather took a little lift and on Blue Monday I was out brushing up the patios. The Starry Towers estate has been badly effected by winter 2010/11 so far. The guttering collapsed and brought down, not only solid roan-shaped ice but also a load of filthy...stuff. Stuff that very old guttering, guttering even older than The Dad, gets filled with...your mythical-worship-figure only knows what it actually is, but it's black, filthy and sticky. So I brushed it all up then The Husband took the pressure washer to the mono-blocking, and it's all looking clean and tidy out there, that gives me a sense of contentment. The front door step is in pieces but at least the muck is gone.
Bin News : at long last the black bins have been emptied, it's been a while, I'm guessing 4, maybe 5 weeks. There's been no common sense involved in how the refuse-collectors approached the bin situation here this winter. For instance one week, it should've been the black bin's turn (and the black bin situation was already serious at that time), but they emptied the blues instead. Let me explain for clarity...black is the normal unrecyclable mixed waste, blue is paper and certain plastics, brown is garden and at this time of year, Xmas trees. Last week on Main Street, The Starry Towers brown bin was the only one emptied in The Village. No-one else had put brown out. They stop emptying brown way too early in Autumn and don't start a regular fortnightly service again till well into the next spring, but they do a one-off after Xmas to take away all them real Christmas trees everyone has these days (really? I couldn't even be bothered to put up The Starry Towers height of fashion black fake tree this year). I seem to have been the only one in The Village that remembered the one-off tree removal service. Though my brown bin was full of last Autumn's garden waste, I don't care...it's empty now and that gives me an OCD way out of proportion sense of achievement. There was another Bin News situation a week ago.
Everyone's black bins have sat out at road-side since way back, full to the gunnels and we're pressing new bags in with great effort and pushing down on lids, cos they don't empty them if your lids aren't down, and we're being forced to store bin-bags of the latest refuse we're producing safely out back so foxes and crows can't get to it. In the midst of this bin emergency situation I happened to be looking out the front window one day and saw a woman cross the road towards my bins, she lifted a lid and pressed a bag of her rubbish in! WTF!??? How very dare she!??? I was near on apocalyptic, blazing mad, flustered at not knowing what to do. In the end there was nothing I could do, the only option...racing out to the street and shouting obscenities, insults and threats, would've seemed obnoxious, rude and an anti-social over-reaction. Not to me, to me it seemed like the sensible righteous woman's choice of action, but I know the rest of the world is often at odds with my more intelligent reasoning. I did the only thing I could, I let it go, only I didn't really, it was just another bit of why everything's been so very troubling for me in recent times.
But hey people, my readers, take heart, all is so much better here now, yeah really, honestly...
...till next month.
Autumn 2009 and leaves carpeted the ground, in a pleasing picturesque way. Not like the ones I was recently brushing up on The Starry Towers monblock along with the guttering crap, but the reds and yellows and golden browns, crisp and fresh and beautiful, and none more aesthetically pleasing than the Autumnal palette at The Birks of Aberfeldy. I blogged of the new statue at The Birks, the Robert Burns sitting on a bench. It occurred to me often since that I needed to discover who made it, and why, who paid for it, what's the story? I got round to a bit of Googling, but no info, so I figured who might know and fired off an email to the Aberfeldy Museum and Art Gallery. The reply left me none the wiser, though they did suggest I should try contacting the local library and/or The Burns Society. I then emailed the Perth local council on a general enquiries email contact and within 24 hours received a reply from that person, a woman called Jill, telling me she'd forward my enquiry to a man called Alistair, the Countryside Management Officer at Perth & Kinross Council. On checking my emails, at the same time as receiving Jill's response, there was an email from Alistair too.
The sculpture was commissioned by the Perth and Kinross Countryside Trust as part of the improvements to the Birks under the Perthshire Big Tree Country Heritage and Access project. The sculptor is Richard Austin of The Sculpture Workshop in Wadebridge, Cornwall. Great customer service from Jill and Alistair, big thumbs up, five stars (out of five) and I emailed back telling them of my appreciation and admiration.
The Boy and I went bowling on the Wii, he won, but only just. Yes we got a Nintendo Wii Console with Wii Fit Plus and Balance Board and Motion Plus Controller for Xmas. The Husband reckons I won't be bothered, but I intend to prove him wrong. While he's not looking I'll be trying to exercise. I know, I know, sounds mental, exercise isn't usually on my agenda, so it's going to take a lot of effort, but there's the OCD to rely on, if I can just get into it, I'll go way too far...hopefully. I tried a bit of hoola-hooping and a little of the step classes. A problem so far is getting my brain round following the on screen instructions while co-ordinating my hand to eye button pressing, in a timely fashion. But the main problem is the Wii told me my age seems to be 75! Me and the Wii have a bit of reconciling to do, most of it needs to come from the Wii, an apology would be a good start.
The Wii...despite the insults...I can't complain. The festive/weather troubles that paralysed the UK during December 2010 led to a delay in delivery, which led to me emailing an enquiry, which led to a reply email saying seems the Wii was lost in transit, and they'd refund. I didn't ask for a refund, just an estimate of delivery date, but they got it into their computer-based heads that it was the right thing to do. Next day the Wii arrived. Now I haven't checked my credit card statement, because I'm not in the habit of doing so, I'm so blond, geeee, really, I'm so busy I never got round to it. No court in the land could do me for any such outrageous unrequested refund. If they were to have refunded and I were to try to insist they're in the wrong it would no doubt lead to no amount of problems for them, so best I just back down and not even
check see if they did or not. I'm washing my hands of the situation, I'll just leave it the way it is, whatever way it is. I'm not naturally the complaining sort, don't like to cause trouble. Of course, if at anytime in the future (within reason) they were to inform me of any unrequested refund I'm not aware of, I would of course be happy to check my credit card account and sort out what would be their mistake for them, I'm not a criminal you know.Along with the Wii came a Radio Control 1:14 Scale Full Function Licensed Scale Model Range Rover Sport HSE in Racing Red. A surprise pressie for The Husband, just like the real thing, only a bit smaller.
The Boy and I watched Superhero Movie this evening. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the same gags that made me laugh in the late 80's and early '90s can make me happy again now. A load of the humour was derived from repeating stuff from the Naked Gun and Airplane movies, and I loved it. It's difficult to beat the originals, they was the best. But I was well happy to have these 2008 redoings, same jokes, different story-line, with a super-hero instead of policeman. And my beloved Leslie Neilson, his screen presence was enough to make me 100% satisfied.
16/01/11Whisky pressie, Frankie & Benny's, customer service, The Girl Who Played With Fire and PROOF
One of The Old Friend's daughters came over this afternoon with her partner and gave The Husband a thank you gift. A special bottle of single malt whiskey, the 44.47 strawberries dangling over straw. "With her partner" and "strawberries dangling", that's all I'm saying. Was really thoughtful, unexpected and a lovely gift.The Single Malt Whisky Society says..."The nose seemed to promise sweetness; toffee, fudge, butterscotch, milk chocolate, Demerara and banana fritters in syrup. It also had buttered toast and an earthy fruitiness, like summer strawberries dangling over straw. The palate, not quite so ultra-sweet; offered cinder toffee, green bananas, liquorice allsorts, polished wood and a chilli pepper heat that numbed and tingled. The reduced nose took a spin towards woody spice (Victory V’s, clove, nutmeg) before returning to caramel sauce and chocolate. The reduced palate was now sweet and spicy, with clove rock and sherry flavours." I'm almost certain they're right, but I'll never know for sure.
The Husband and I tried out the Livingston branch of the New York Italian restaurant and bar Frankie & Benny's. The Mushroom Alfredo Crostini starter is delicious, the New York Chicken could be chicken from anywhere and the Brownies and Ice Cream was OK, but not as huge or as tasty as the Beefeater version. In general the portion size isn't as big as Beefeaters. The restaurant atmosphere however was massively better than the Livingston Beefeater, there were two birthday cakes delivered to tables while we were there on a Wednesday evening, it was busy and nicely noisy. Loads of customer chatter and a classic 50s soundtrack, The Husband in particular really enjoyed the music. The two waitresses we dealt with were good at their jobs and really friendly, and strangely both Australian. I told The Husband it was an Australian accent I was hearing, he claimed English. I had to ask...I was right, licks finger and gestures an imaginary figure 1 in the air.
The Boy needs a bank account cos he's secured himself a job, so he and I headed up to the Bank of Scotland. We went to the business branch just outside the Livingston shopping centre because it's usually much quieter than the main branch inside the centre. I was a bit concerned they wouldn't deal with the opening of a boy's account and redirect us to the main branch in Almondvale Centre, but, no...good customer service again. They phoned up the main branch and a young man called Derren ran over in his shirt sleeves and did the business. What a pleasant surprise.
I became a Bank of Scotland customer in 1983 when I started as a student nurse, a couple of major banks came to the college and made it easy for us to sign up. I went with the BoS because it didn't have the word Royal in the name, for an anti-royalist it was the obvious choice.
Good customer service...two thumbs up, bad customer service...one thumbs down. And the thumbs down goes to...IKEA, when we went for the DVD shelves. I didn't mention it at the time because I've been putting all my personal low mood and negativity down to the loss of The Old Friend. I feel I'm entitled to be sad, I may over-react in emotional moments. Perhaps I'm being over-critical and maybe I could be wrong, heaven-forfend, but maybe, it's possible. But since I find myself blogging about good customer service, I think it's a sign that I'm not wrong at all and IKEA were wrong instead, maybe I was a a bit bolshy about it, but really...who's more important, the duty manager or the customers?
Was when we got down to the warehousey bit they keep all the bulky stock. I'd written down the numbers of the things we wanted to buy, and we headed over to pick them off the shelves. That's when we saw they'd temporarily closed off the isle we needed because I was told there was a fork-lift in the adjoining isle. The fork-lift guy looked like he'd nodded off and as I watched more and more IKEA employees came over and joined in the employee mass-chatting session. They were all jolly jolly jolly together, enjoying their wee break. I asked what they were waiting on. Was told they couldn't start till the duty manager was present. He eventually arrived, the fork-lift moved for about 10 seconds and the isle was reopened. I told them..."wouldn't it better for the customers if you all arrived then closed off the isle, that's all I'm saying".
We got to the food bit at the end, I placed our order, received the food and paid. To add injury to insult, over at the drinks machine, water came out the Cola Light spout, I went and told the assistants, and one of them said, yeah, it's not working. I got my £1 back. No-one mentioned there was Pepsi Max in a cold drinks machine in the foyer, I only saw it on my way out after I'd eaten with no fluids. Tut tut tut IKEA!
The Husband and I watched The Girl Who Played With Fire, much anticipated by us, and the early Russell Crowe movie, PROOF. The Girl Who Played With Fire, more of the same but different, and I love it. Was very surprised to have to consider the idea that Sweden was or is involved in any sort of international spying activity though.
PROOF, from what I can make out, is Russell Crowe's third movie after Blood Oath and The Crossing. Awww, isn't he sweet, acting his little Australian socks off. There's tons of suspense, I was expecting something along the lines of a fatal stabbing, but the outcome is on the face of it a happy one. I think if the housekeeper was a real person with that amount of stalker love-madness she's not going to just move on, at the very least the dog would end up on the cooker.
14/01/11funeral, The Boy gets a job, Pandas, Frozen, Brooklyn's Finest, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World DVD
The Husband, The Dad and I attended the funeral of my Old Friend Tom. Was two weeks ago he died, but factors like the festive season and people travelling led to the timing. His daughters had arranged nice things to make the funeral as pleasant as possible, celebrating Tom's life. The little booklet thing, the Order Of Service, issued to all attendees at the church had two photos of Tom looking all...alive. At the tea after the cremation they had made a collage of photos, from Tom approx age 2, right up till Tom age 85.A daughter made a speech at the church, she done well, it was a brave and touching thing to do, and she mentioned a load of the stories he'd told me. She thanked all his friends, then said there were some special people. Amongst these...The Dad, for helping Tom. And me...just for...being there.
I know they made it all as nice as possible, I just wanted to scream. Which is probably ridiculous, but how are you s'posed to behave when a friend dies. I've never lost a friend before, not so finally, the others I've lost...weren't so much lost, as given away. Friends who once were friends and you go your separate ways when it's mutually wrong to stay together. Tom was a friend beyond quibbles and fall-outs and moving-on and growing-up. He was a life-long type friend, who I only had for 4 years. He had so much more to tell me. One of the photos on the collage...Tom and The Queen! He never mentioned he'd met The Queen! What else had he still to tell me, if cancer hadn't ripped him away?
The good news is, The Boy got a job! I'm so glad. He hasn't started work yet, but he's had the confirmation phone call, and HR will be in touch. Most excellent, catering assistant in the NHS. The hours and stuff is crap, but, but, but...as a first job, it gets him out of bed. And that is a good thing, a really good thing. Bonus is they'll put him through his mandatory training certificates, food hygiene, manual handling, fire, the ones I can think of that will apply in his job as well as my NHS job. Stuff he can take to any kitchen work place in the land, and there's a load of kitchen work places in the land.
There be Pandas coming to Edinburgh Zoo. That's not a good thing. Keep the pandas in China. Did we learn nothing from the Canadian Polar Bear experience? That being that Mercedes, the old Canadian Polar Bear living in Scotland, came here because we knew no better back then. We know better now. Lets not start another hopeless situation that we can't hope to improve on later. What I'm saying is...save the Pandas...in China...where they live.
While I'm on the subject of bears, Polar Bears...how come "they" tell us the fate of Polar Bears is down to us heating our homes and driving our cars, resulting in Polar Bear Death. We put a load in the tumble dryer or rev up the Range Rover and we're increasing pollutants, increasing shipping traffic and oil/gas exploration and therefore...melting the glaciers, there goes the ozone. "They" tell us global warming is a HUGE massive threat. I nearly fell for that stuff...but tell me, why is Canada still shooting Polar Bears? More than half of all living Polar Bears are in Canada, and they shoot them. In Canada, Polar Bears are not listed federally as a species at risk, and have little to no protection through the federal government, provinces or territories.
China should keep their Pandas and put their money into saving the natural habitat. What's to be gained by sending them to Scotland? And while we're at it...can The Queen not have a word with Canada? She still owns it as far as I'm aware.
The Husband and I watched Frozen, Brooklyn's Finest and Scot Pilgrim VS The World. Not one after the other, but on two separate evenings. Frozen is a bit too am-glam, a wee bit too stylised by Hollywood and I was a disappointed that two of three were dealt the same end, but hey-ho, was good enough for a bit could-really-happen-horror, though when we go back to Glen Coe to do the chairlift, which we will one day when it's not so cold, I'll be glad Scotland only has Badgers and Deer on them there hills.
Brooklyn's Finest is by Antoine Fuqua, the same director as Training Day, I preferred Training Day. Ethan Hawke is particularly good but Richard Gere looks like he's sleeping.
Scot Pilgrim VS The World hasn't become my new favourite movie. I love Edgar Wright's Hot Fuzz and Shaun Of The Dead and I'm very fond of young über-nerd Michael Cera...but. It's entertaining enough at times and brilliantly silly at others, overall it just falls flat and isn't funny enough. And I was so looking forward to it.
08/01/11new boots, Jack Straw and Religious Zealot News and Black Death
Religious Zealot News : Jack Straw has mentioned the unmentionable. There are some Muslim men in the UK who are grooming young vulnerable white girls with the aim of sexually abusing them. That's true, and I admire Mr Straw for being brave enough to say it out loud. There are also white men doing the same, the fact that some Muslims are doing the same thing can't be ignored because everyone's scared to be seen as racist. The vulnerable girls are the ones who should be foremost in every caring person's mind, and anything that can be done to protect them has to be done.
Last week, it also emerged that 50 out of 56 men convicted in English courts of on-street grooming of girls were Muslims, the majority of whom were from the British Pakistani community. Most of the victims in the 17 separate cases, which spanned 13 years, were white.
Mr Straw isn't on his own, he has the support of Mohammed Shafiq, director of the Muslim youth group the Ramadhan Foundation. Mr Shafig is quoted as agreeing..."I first raised this two or three years ago and I got a lot of stick within the community from people who said I was doing the work of the BNP and stigmatising them." Well done Mr Shafig too. Keep up the sensible stuff you guys, I'm with you both.
Of course the zealots will go crazy with this and use it to rile the idiots within their communities, as per usual. I hate religion, any sensible person should.
Totally coincidently and nothing to do with the above, The Husband and I watched Black Death this evening, nothing like a dose of bubonic plague to get the natives all crazy and...dead. As usual, the women and the intelligent were the first to suffer at the hands of the religious. Was an enjoyable and entertaining take on the history of the time, a story well told.
07/01/11Derren Brown, more shelves, Katalin Varga and The Disappearance of Alice Creed
Derren Brown, illusionist, mentalist, painter, writer, and sceptic, amazed us yet again. Isn't he just astoundingly brilliant at what he does. We watched his Enigma show, the TV version of his 2009/2010 tour. I watch knowing full well what he does is totally human, tricky and clever, but I still don't know how he does it. I try to remember that he knows the outcome way before the show starts and that everything he does up till the big reveal is the smoke and mirrors that sucks us in, but I just can't figure it out. I can spot him when he's got his tongue in cheek, toying with us, like when he pretended to have never heard of McFly, he's almost winking at us, cos we know he knows, I said to The Husband, 'aye right, I bet he's got a McFly guitarist backstage or something', I didn't expect the spectacular McFly video at the end though. How does he do it? Hopefully we'll never know. I like 'magic' and apparently psychic acts when it's performed by a proclaimed sceptic, all done with suggestion, psychology, misdirection and showmanship, or, erm, summit. The DVD collection grows all the time, 1050 at the last count, which was today. I catalogue my DVD collection with DVD Profiler from Invelos and highly recommend it to all in need of a computer program to catalogue their DVD collection, so I know I've got 1050 without having to count them. The walk-in-media-cupboard was running out of shelf space again so it was down to IKEA for some DVD shelves. A couple of their BESTA range with the addition of extra shelves did the job perfectly, making best use of the little bit of wall space still available in the walk-in-media-cupboard.
The Husband and I watched Katalin Varga. The story of a woman raped a decade previously, her husband has discovered the truth. Apparently with nothing to lose, she sets of with her young son to reek revenge on her rapist and his side-kick. Set in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania, the movie is beautiful with a tantalising storyline. My only issue is I couldn't believe that a survivor and devoted mother like Katalin is would suddenly go all out with this nothing to lose attitude which would endanger her son's present and future, she didn't have nothing to lose.
We also watched The Disappearance of Alice Creed. It's a British thriller, all twisty turny, and a good few of them eyebrow-raising unexpected, with a satisfying ending. In the first 5 minutes the bad guys are down their local Homebase buying the stuff they need, so fastidiously planned is this shopping list I expected the checkout girl to pass it all through the till then announce a 10% discount on the Kidnap Kit
05/01/11new pillows and He Was A Quiet Man
The Husband and I got new pillows, the Dunlopillo Serenity Deluxe Pillows. Expensive yes, but the best pillows I've ever laid my head on, and if the sales-pitch is right it'll be at least a decade before we feel the need to replace them.
I'm usually a two pillows girl, needing the bottom one to pull up against my shoulder and the top one I have at an angle coming down to support my head. But I only need one Dunlopillo Serenity Deluxe. I've slept on it for 3 nights now, what a difference. On other pillows my ear hurts or I have to create a little hollow under my ear in to take the pressure off, with this the ear is comfortable and there's none of that faffing about.
Here's the science - a luxury latex pillow that offers shallow gentle support for the head and neck. The Husband wasn't too chuffed at the latex, convinced latex pillows make his head sweat, BUT, not in this case, it's made of Talalay, the world's most luxurious latex and is constructed in tiny inter-connecting air cells providing a built-in ventilation system which means the pillow stays cool and fresh throughout the night.
Unlike memory foam, latex has instant bounce back, a natural rubber polymer that returns to shape time after time providing unrivalled comfort and support. This pillow is incredibly resilient, offering excellent durability and comes complete with a soft washable cotton and polyester cover.
I've had three comfortable nights on this pillow, falling asleep fast, uninterrupted sleep, and my neck has been pain free. I can't wait for the mattress, dreaming of the rest of my musculoskeletal aches and pains disappearing too
That's the pillow advert done. The Husband and I watched He Was A Quiet Man tonight. Christopher Slater was a quiet man, quiet, paranoid, psychotic, lonely, alienated, unloved, socially awkward, unlikeable and a bit ugly. So no wonder it went the way it went, thought you don't know the way it went till the end. A strange one but a good one.
04/01/11cabin fever, Beefeater, Gerry Rafferty and The White Ribbon
Cos we had nothing to do all day we spent the evening at our local Beefeater for a non-spectacular three course meal. Though the rich chocolate fudge brownie served warm, topped with ice cream and drizzled with warm chocolate fudge flavour sauce concoction was none too shabby. Gerry Rafferty RIP. Now I'll be humming Stuck In The Middle With You for a while.
The Husband and I watched White Ribbon, we do like our movies with sub-titles. This is a fantastically crafted and acted, thought-provoking film which will leave you horrified at the parenting techniques of the time. Many questions are raised, very few answers are given, much thinking about living in Europe in the 1930/40s.
The scene with the young boy Rudolf asking his big sister Anna about death really moved me. I'm 40 summit and still can't believe that's the way it has to be, for everyone, no-one escapes it, not even me. The emotions on the wee boy's face as he takes this information in...that's just how I feel about it.
02/01/11Destruction Man, Valhalla Rising and The Ghost
You can't leave him on his own for a minute. On one day last week while I was at work, he managed to totally destroy three major items...that we know of, there may be more.
Number 1 - he was keen to wash a car but the garden hose pipe was still frozen, he decides to hasten the defreezing. I s'pose I should be grateful he didn't set fire to the garden shed with a blow torch. I don't know what he did do, but he replaced the hose with a new one.
Number 2 - he lost his good glasses, boooo! But...he found his glasses, yeahhhhh! But his glasses were broken, boooo! He'd only run them over with a Range Rover.
Number 3 - he's in big trouble. He shrunk his Xmas jumper. The family Xmas jumper tradition is that The Husband gets a NEXT Xmas woolie from The Parents every year. This year he decided to put it in the washing machine. I'm in charge of the washing machine, so he should never have been near it in the first place. He's got an itsy-bitsy munchkin jersey and we'll be heading to NEXT to replace it as soon as the January Sales frenzy dies down.
Destruction Man and I tried to watch Valhalla Rising. Bloody hell, we switched it off just after the grey mist descended on the Viking boat taking them to The Holy Land. Then we slid Roman Polanski's The Ghost into the player. Better, we managed to watch the entire movie. Bit silly though and not near as good as I'd expected. Rotten Tomatoes has it at 83% and it's 7.5/10 at IMDb. I thought the acting was a bit poor TBH, I wasn't feeling the tension and wasn't particularly impressed by the big reveal.
And there's a little bit of bling on The Star Swag Blog.
01/01/11Happy New Year, happy new mattress, Flu vaccine, Beneath Hill 60, Ricky Gervais IV -Science and some of Karl Pilkington An Idiot Abroad
New year, new Blog, and a new mattress.
I'm having a load of niggling pains in my musculoskeletal system, getting worse over the years, and now pretty pronounced and constant. My lower lumber, hips, thighs, knees, neck, right shoulder, and now even my right arm below and above the elbow. It's all going tits up. It'll be wear and tear, I'm a nurse and then there's the laptop usage, and maybe a little to do with age. I've been promising myself a great mattress for years, why haven't I done it before? I don't know, I'm asking you. I should've done this way before now. The mattress I've used for the last decade is just a cheapo that came with the Jay-Be Galaxy bed I liked. I still like the bed, but the mattress is lumpy bumpy hard and hurts me.
So that's the bed frame, the new mattress is a Series 700 Sleep To Live with it's Cushion Cloud Construction, from Bensons For Beds. I was up our local branch testing their wares the other day. Testing for a new mattress takes a lot of time, and you have to get comfortable. I kicked off my M&S Limited Collection Round Toe Faux Fur Shoe Boots, slipped out of my Dorothy Perkins Fit And Flare Coat, threw off my faux fur trapper hat and scarf and put down gently and carefully my Modalú Kiera Studded Large Grab Handbag. With customer relaxation and personal security in mind a nice salesman type guy took my stuff and put it all behind the counter, then I was free to move around unhindered. I was on every bed in the store, on my back, on my side, on my other side. Each and every one of them felt better than what was back at Starry Towers, how to decide, I was flummoxed.
So the salesman invited me to be analysed, I accepted...he was a very nice salesman. For comfort, health and adequate sleep the aim is to keep your spine straight, so I must be of light and curvy build, because I needed the softest mattress. And how soft, how very very soft. At some stage during this sales process I realised why all the sales staff, at one time or another said to me, we wish everyone would test them out like you're doing, go for it, try this one, and this one, what bout this one, knock yourself out...because, once tried, the little matter of price was the furthest thing from my mind. I stopped thinking money, I just wanted the best most comfortable, worth every penny. So I paid a good few hunner of my Scottish pounds and got the one I found most comfortable.
The Sleep To Live body/bed analysing machine had me lying on this latex covered single mattress, while a female voice spoke to me all about beds and sleep and relaxing and health matters related to said same aspects of live, a computer programme determined what softness/hardness of mattress would suit me best. I was the softest, the tan colour on the print out. The Husband dropped by at this time on one of his three visits during my mattress shopping, (it was a lengthy process like I said, and he was only barely managing to tolerate the salesman let alone the time spent). He was cajoled into answering questions about his weight/height etc, though he wasn't happy bout it all and I filled in the bits he wouldn't tell. And he point-blankly refused to get on the mattress machine, with only rough guesses to go on the machine said he needed the next step up hardness of mattress, the green. He was at the lower end of the green and I was near the top end of the tan, so rather than get the mattress in two different hardness halves I opted for green on both sides. To be honest the tan is so soft, though it felt the best for 5 minutes, perhaps it would get to feel like drowning in cushions and clouds when I got it home and lay on it for longer. And the green felt just as comfortable when I tested it, less soft, less e
nveloping, less like it was sucking me in forever. I reckon it'll prove to be a wise decision. I have to wait 4 weeks for delivery, I'll report if my aches and pains get better once I give it serious testing.The salesman showed me other brands of mattress that were of similar type to the Sleep To Live the machine told me I need. I got it down to two mattresses, the S2L and a Silent Night, with a price difference of £200. He didn't pressure me, just suggested I go by which one I found most comfortable, truly ask myself what I like best...I was on both of them many times, but I couldn't argue with what my body was telling me, I went with the more expensive of the two.
I took the Flu vaccine. A work colleague administered it for me. Probably for the best seeing as Flu's killing people all the time and I really don't want another chesty episode this Winter.
Been watching some DVDs that need reviewing, short and sweet cos I ran out of time.
Beneath Hill 60...WW1 history with Australian miners, very good.
Ricky Gervais Live IV...Science, Gervais excellent as usual. Mostly about mongs, Subo and fat.