Thursday, 4 October 2012
Hello again, I've been busy doing not very much recently, waiting for some assistance in making improvements to my blog page, having listened carefully to the criticism, you know who you are Fer! Believe it or not, finding one's way around a dingy green room with pealing paint isn't easy, so I enlisted the help of an American who had, unlike most American's, been able to find her way to foreign shores without the sponsorship of the US government and the latest high tech weaponry Xenia Schiller spent all the early hours from just before midnight Saturday until 6am Sunday morning tweaking my page and sewing a few buttons on here and there. On your right ladies and gentlemen, you can find some clickie on things that will make you a follower. I was persuaded against using the term "disciple" by Michael Palin who reminded me of the problems Brian had with the various churches throughout the World. You can click on another button, I'm reliably informed by Ms Schiller and her dog, Lacey, that means that you can be informed of my ramblings, of which there are about to be more of. I'm about to embark upon a lot of home improvements on the bricks and mortar variety, rather than this shabby cyber room I visit occasionally, and I know it will end in tears, so come by with a box of tissues. I have something in mind to write in the next day or two, but while I'm thanking people, here's to a friend who we used to joke about but who has become very grown up very quickly.
Wikipedia is a very thoughtful friend to have. Not only does it spell it's name in a simple non Greek way, not squishing a's and e's together like fat people on a bus seat, it will do "special searches" for you. I've just noticed that it does it. You put in a few words that don't immediately come up with a dedicated page, like, "Herbie Hancock The Imagine Project" and off it goes on it's special mission. I would recommend that anyone with a love of good music, who doesn't stick strictly to the beaten path musically, should savour this delicacy of talent.
Thanks for stopping by, remember to click on some of them buttons and to share my blog with your friends. The next one will be more of the old stuff and less like housekeeping. See you in a day or two!
Wikipedia is a very thoughtful friend to have. Not only does it spell it's name in a simple non Greek way, not squishing a's and e's together like fat people on a bus seat, it will do "special searches" for you. I've just noticed that it does it. You put in a few words that don't immediately come up with a dedicated page, like, "Herbie Hancock The Imagine Project" and off it goes on it's special mission. I would recommend that anyone with a love of good music, who doesn't stick strictly to the beaten path musically, should savour this delicacy of talent.
Thanks for stopping by, remember to click on some of them buttons and to share my blog with your friends. The next one will be more of the old stuff and less like housekeeping. See you in a day or two!
Sunday, 19 August 2012
Three weeks, three incompetent weeks to find out how to compose a second blog. I had to "sign in", ha! I'm having second thoughts about going around the World, given that it takes me three confused weeks to find out that I have to sign in to discover the "compose" button.
Today I finished work, not for the weekend like you lot, but for 2 years, by which time I expect to be able find out how to read my emails and print Google map directions. I've ordered my travelling companion, he's beautiful and has a name, he's called The Edge because he's Uke 2. Groan all you like, I'm not calling him Bono!
http://www.goughanddavy.co.uk/product_desc.php?id=885 is where you will find his portrait. Click on this link, you will see a large photo of him, but to the left is a small one. Click on the small one and he will come and show you himself at his glorious glossy best. He's bigger than my other Uke because, despite what we are told by a kind society, size does matter. My other travelling companions, the twin spoons are still reluctant to show themselves in case they are imprisoned back in the evil, forbidding castle from which they were "liberated". Maybe when we reach a country that doesn't have an extradition treaty with Scotland, and in particular, Stirling, they will parade their binary beauty.
Sunday 19th August will be my 35th wedding anniversary. If we had managed to stay together longer than it takes to produce a second blog, we would now be receiving gifts made of Jade. We barely made it to our first anniversary when one traditionally recieves gifts of paper. (Cash or cheques will do nicely, thank you!)
It wasn't a traditional honeymoon, the bride and groom in some romantic location, sickeningly engrossed only in each others gaze while holding hands across a candle lit table. We could only afford Auntie Norah's caravan in wet and windy Cleethorpes. Along with the sexy negligee, my wife had brought her 2 kids and the family dog, Jandy.
Jandy was a 6 month old Labrador cross bitch. She, unfortunately, was in season for her first time. I'd been advised by the vet to allow this passage to adulthood before having her "dressed". Nature chose the week of our honeymoon to bless us with the circumstance that attracted horny, howling, hounds from as far afield as Skegness and Grimsby.
In an act I considered to be thoughtful and romantic, in a week that so far had been lacking the latter, I woke her early on the fourth morning, before the kids had woken up and the pack of persistent, puppy producing pooches had emerged from under the surrounding caravans where they skulked expectantly hoping to be the first to act in a moment of dropped guards..
I'd prepared her breakfast and a cup of tea for both of us. I never would have thought this would almost produce the premature dissolution of our nuptial bliss. Bleary eyed, but beautiful, she sat across the Formica covered caravan table as I spooned sugar into my tea. I'll never understand how my next action, something she'd witnessed countless times during our courtship, could create the vitriolic look of anger and hatred that overwhelmed the face of my beautiful wife. "That's it!" she spat viciously in a voice as gutteral as Glasgow drunk who's drink you'd just across the table, "I cannot stand the way you stir your tea, It's over!!!"
She exploded from Auntie Nora's honeymoon love-nest, dogs fleeing in all directions from this furious nightdress striding across the caravan park towards the distant red phone box who's colour matched her enraged complexion. I arrived as she dialled her Mother and Father's home in Hull. "Come and get me and the kids." She demanded, "I can't stand it any more." I was in a state of shock and despair, otherwise I might have reminded her to include the menstruating dog.
Unfortunately for me, although I didn't see it that way at the time, he declined to aid her escape form marital mayhem in true Yorkshire fashion. "You've made yer bed....." He didn't need to finish the sentence. Old Yorkshire men are creatures of few words and seldom have to finish their sentences to be understood. He'd already hung up the phone.
Our marriage managed to flail like a drunken man with a drum, falling down a flight of stairs to halt as abruptly half way between the paper and cotton anniversaries. I left home one morning, the latest threat of separation looming large for the umpteenth and final time and consulted a lawyer in my lunchtime. On the long bus journey home that very night, I met the girl with whom I would spend the next fourteen years. We are still good friends and have frequent contact. Unlike my wife, who I never saw again, although many years later I learned she was a serial bride and divorcee, I was the second in a very long line.
In a beautiful bouquet of irony, for which I will be eternally grateful, the decree absolute, the ultimate coup de gras in what had become a long forgotten period of my "eventful" life, was granted on the fourth anniversary of our wedding, a welcome change from the fruit or flowers that are the more traditional gifts on such an occasion. On Sunday 19th August 2012 I will be able to celebrate the 31st anniversary of my divorce, not my wedding. HAPPY DIVORCE DAY!!
Today I finished work, not for the weekend like you lot, but for 2 years, by which time I expect to be able find out how to read my emails and print Google map directions. I've ordered my travelling companion, he's beautiful and has a name, he's called The Edge because he's Uke 2. Groan all you like, I'm not calling him Bono!
http://www.goughanddavy.co.uk/product_desc.php?id=885 is where you will find his portrait. Click on this link, you will see a large photo of him, but to the left is a small one. Click on the small one and he will come and show you himself at his glorious glossy best. He's bigger than my other Uke because, despite what we are told by a kind society, size does matter. My other travelling companions, the twin spoons are still reluctant to show themselves in case they are imprisoned back in the evil, forbidding castle from which they were "liberated". Maybe when we reach a country that doesn't have an extradition treaty with Scotland, and in particular, Stirling, they will parade their binary beauty.
Sunday 19th August will be my 35th wedding anniversary. If we had managed to stay together longer than it takes to produce a second blog, we would now be receiving gifts made of Jade. We barely made it to our first anniversary when one traditionally recieves gifts of paper. (Cash or cheques will do nicely, thank you!)
It wasn't a traditional honeymoon, the bride and groom in some romantic location, sickeningly engrossed only in each others gaze while holding hands across a candle lit table. We could only afford Auntie Norah's caravan in wet and windy Cleethorpes. Along with the sexy negligee, my wife had brought her 2 kids and the family dog, Jandy.
Jandy was a 6 month old Labrador cross bitch. She, unfortunately, was in season for her first time. I'd been advised by the vet to allow this passage to adulthood before having her "dressed". Nature chose the week of our honeymoon to bless us with the circumstance that attracted horny, howling, hounds from as far afield as Skegness and Grimsby.
In an act I considered to be thoughtful and romantic, in a week that so far had been lacking the latter, I woke her early on the fourth morning, before the kids had woken up and the pack of persistent, puppy producing pooches had emerged from under the surrounding caravans where they skulked expectantly hoping to be the first to act in a moment of dropped guards..
I'd prepared her breakfast and a cup of tea for both of us. I never would have thought this would almost produce the premature dissolution of our nuptial bliss. Bleary eyed, but beautiful, she sat across the Formica covered caravan table as I spooned sugar into my tea. I'll never understand how my next action, something she'd witnessed countless times during our courtship, could create the vitriolic look of anger and hatred that overwhelmed the face of my beautiful wife. "That's it!" she spat viciously in a voice as gutteral as Glasgow drunk who's drink you'd just across the table, "I cannot stand the way you stir your tea, It's over!!!"
She exploded from Auntie Nora's honeymoon love-nest, dogs fleeing in all directions from this furious nightdress striding across the caravan park towards the distant red phone box who's colour matched her enraged complexion. I arrived as she dialled her Mother and Father's home in Hull. "Come and get me and the kids." She demanded, "I can't stand it any more." I was in a state of shock and despair, otherwise I might have reminded her to include the menstruating dog.
Unfortunately for me, although I didn't see it that way at the time, he declined to aid her escape form marital mayhem in true Yorkshire fashion. "You've made yer bed....." He didn't need to finish the sentence. Old Yorkshire men are creatures of few words and seldom have to finish their sentences to be understood. He'd already hung up the phone.
Our marriage managed to flail like a drunken man with a drum, falling down a flight of stairs to halt as abruptly half way between the paper and cotton anniversaries. I left home one morning, the latest threat of separation looming large for the umpteenth and final time and consulted a lawyer in my lunchtime. On the long bus journey home that very night, I met the girl with whom I would spend the next fourteen years. We are still good friends and have frequent contact. Unlike my wife, who I never saw again, although many years later I learned she was a serial bride and divorcee, I was the second in a very long line.
In a beautiful bouquet of irony, for which I will be eternally grateful, the decree absolute, the ultimate coup de gras in what had become a long forgotten period of my "eventful" life, was granted on the fourth anniversary of our wedding, a welcome change from the fruit or flowers that are the more traditional gifts on such an occasion. On Sunday 19th August 2012 I will be able to celebrate the 31st anniversary of my divorce, not my wedding. HAPPY DIVORCE DAY!!
Sunday, 29 July 2012
OK, here it is, my first blog of my World Tour. Premature I agree, but it's better to be early for a World Tour than late. I have noticed that the word "blog" has a red squiggly line under it, and when I right clicked on the red squiggly line, it suggests, "glob, bog, slog, log and biog"! I don't think I've ever come across the word "glob" except maybe in Blackadder, but I have come across the word BLOG! Especially on a BLOGGING SITE you thick auto correct PRICK!!!
Using capitals and bold, was that a bit overkill? Hey I've even got italics now, except I don't know how to stop them. Apparently you space bar away from them until they no longer have any influence over what you're typing. A bit like separating you from your mate at school and making you both move your desks to opposite sides of the classroom. That's what I learnt at school, separation prevents influence.
I haven't said anything about my World Tour yet, because that, as said previously, would be premature. It's called "One Man, Two Spoons and a Ukulele World Tour" because they are to be my travelling companions. I could, I've just noticed, put a photo up on my blog, red squiggly line again. I've just added it to the dictionary, making me a modern day Samuel Johnson, I hope mankind will remember me for this act. I did notice whilst doing so, that I could have clicked on "google suggestions", had I done so, I would have suggested they update their own fucking dictionary in future, but given that "google" also has a red squiggly line beneath it, I doubt that they would have taken any notice.
I almost forgot about the photo that I could have put up. I was about to tell you that I could put one up but I'm not going to because I haven't bought the Ukulele I'm going to travel with and the spoons are a little bit "hot" as they say on Crimewatch. I prefer to use the term, "liberated".
The World Tour starts on 23rd October 2012. I'm having a trial run before then when I go to Solfest on the "One Man, Two Spoons and a Uke plus Alex World Tour". From there I will be going to Leeds to have a farewell meal with my siblings, tempting fate a bit as during the last 5 years we have only seen each other to bury other members of our family.
While I was thinking about what to write next my pornographic screensaver distracted me and is demanding my attention. Yes she's disappeared for now but she's persistent so I'll write again soon when I've got something to say, meanwhile, I have things to do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)