Cut off.

Stranded at Pole Moor. I have no internet access and it's driving me mad. I know it shouldn't, but it does. I sit and watch the lights on the ADSL modem flashing, trying desperately to connect with the outside world, but alas, their efforts are in vain. There is nobody out there.

I want to believe!!

It's a sunny morning (for a change). Dappled light filters into the lounge through the overgrown jungle just beyond. Honeysuckle and clematis shadows shimmer up the walls. From the rear window I can see big clouds in an even bigger sky. The seed heads of grass waving above a stone wall.

Sunrise, Yorkshire style.

I had to laugh at some of the recent comments that have been left for me (during my uncontrollable absence). There's nothing wrong with reading Harry Potter!! It's the book (or at least series of books) that made kids start to read again. The biggest mistake in my mind, is that they turned them into films.

I DO remember one period when I was working away from home that the Potter books helped me to remain reasonably sane. Although in retrospect, the people involved in that project may well not agree with that last statement. I recall spending a lot of time at my desk with my sunglasses on, clutching a plastic cup in my mouth (which was stuffed with pink paper)........

Blip......

Two whole hours later, and the internet connection that was so rudely interrupted, manages to get a word in edgewise again.

You'll never know about the pink paper and plastic cup, and you can blame Pole Moor for that!!

I chase a chicken from the kitchen, and the sun goes in. Oh to be in Yorkshire, now that summer is here.

I doff my respectful cap in Yorkshire Pudding's direction with regards to his predicted North VS South news eligibility challenge with regards to the recent flooding. He saw it coming and although I believed him, I have still been shocked at the difference.

This is Arctic Fox reporting for AFBC News, signing off before the ....blip!

Now....

I wouldn't say my farts are really smelly....... They are, but I wouldn't say it, and certainly not in mixed company!! As long as there were pets on hand, on which to blame the offensive stench, then I would never have to say it anyway.

So why is it......

My sister, brother-in-law, and two nephews have buggered off to Australia to live.

My mum and Fred have naffed off to Scotland for an undisclosed period of time to stay with my Aunty and Uncle.

Dawn and the kids are beggaring off to Wales for a week.

I find myself on housewatch. Confined to "bleak house" at Pole Moor - About which I have actually blogged before. I will spare you a repeat performance. Suffice to say it's foggy and pissing down with moor grime and rain.

Bugger it, I've just farted again.

I have, in my sweaty palms, a copy of the new (and final) Harry Potter book..... I have a week of solitude in which to indulge in all things Hogwarty. I seem to remember that someone posted the punchline to the previous book in my comments before I'd finished it!! Rotten buggers!!

Right, it's bloody late. This house is spooky. Five channels of television are not enough to stop me from going to bed. Note to self: Bring freeview USB thing along tomorrow!!

Expeliarmus!!

Oh dear.

Well, the day has come, and almost gone, in which my mum's heart has been broken by the departure of my sister, brother-in-law, and her two grandsons, all bound for the sunnier climes of Australia, mate!!

By Saturday morning they'll be starting a new adventure, and I wish them all luck.

The weather (oh god, it's turning into another weather blog, do I NEVER have anything interesting to discuss??) has been really nice today. It's been the first day in (what feels like) weeks that we haven't had intermittent monsoonesque squalls.

A perfect day for a perfect bike ride you might think?

Man flu over the cuckoo's nest!!

Piss...... I've got the sniffliest of snot laden dripping nostrils. A tickly sore throat. Toothache. A sort of mildly spaced out type feeling.

I am of course dying!! No human has endured this level of flu before, and everyone must stop what they are doing and bring me paracetamol laced citrus flavoured beverages. Immediately.

I'm going to get in the bath, pull up the drawbridge, make myself a sandwich and sweat this virus out of me.

aaaaa......chooooo

Eisteddfod said... What's carrot juice in Welsh?
Carrot juice in Welsh is, as everyone knows:
Sudd moron!!

Respondez......

Just a quick update inbetween thunderstorms........

I bought a "freeview" USB thing for my computer, so I now get a range of "free-to-air" satellite channels, which display beautifully on my (previously mentioned) nineteen inch Sony LCD monitor. It only cost me fifteen quid, and it's money well spent. I can now blog, play Pogo and watch Big Brother (live streaming) without leaving the comfort of my desk. Luxury, and a damn sight cheaper than buying the secondary television I had promised myself.

If anyone is interested in one of these nifty gadgets to watch TV on your computer, then give me a shout and I can give you a few pointers.

My desk now looks like some crazy command centre with little screens, volume controls, remote controls, USB hubs, dongles, and cables everywhere. There is no need for central heating any more. The heat generated by all this 24/7 equipment is phenomenal. I am probably quite responsible for the recent rain.

Positive feedback time - We all know how easy it is to complain about bad customer service. We all now how rare it is to receive good customer service. Well this is one story that I thought was going to end badly, that actually ended up being great:

My shredder (Swordfish 700DC) stopped working. No worries.... two years warranty. I contact the supplier, and they say to contact the manufacturer. I contact the manufacturer, and of course they say to contact the supplier. This is the point where I would start to explode........

Step forward customer service representative of the month, who not only agrees to simply send me a replacement shredder, but manages to raise a smile and a joke (via email of course) out of me. I say to the company in question: Snopake - You are lucky to have Kath Douglas working there. Well done!!

I rarely get round to responding to comments. I am very bad at it. Just to prove a point, here's my response to recent things.......

Various - The feeling of being "boxed in" and the desire to blog anonymously has now passed. Rol was right of course, if they can't take a blog then eff 'em, but in practice I can't go through with it. There's plenty to blog about without resorting to pure negatives.

Yorkshire Pud and Sophia - The issue of paragraphs and ellipses has now been covered in some detail. As far as I am concerned, a web page can never compete with or rival a book, and as such, the standard rules of punctuation and grammar and spelling can only be loosely adhered to. I am very unhappy with the length of some of my paragraphs today, and I guarantee that nobody has even been bothered to read this far!!

Maxxo and Grilled Pizza - Welcome to you..... pull up a pew, sit back and enjoy the ride. Can I get you a coffee?

Doh Doh - Gazebo schmazebo!!

Yorkshire Pud - "...collapse onto the bed for half an hour" - There's no reading between the lines here mister..... It does what it says on the tin. Big bed.... Sunshine...... Tired fox....... Luxurious afternoon snoozing.

Everyone - The "Love Hearts" were, of course, not actually Love Hearts at all. Those sweets are called "Whatevers" and you can get them from Asda. Soph, you can read all about chavs here!!

Stair rods.

Yesterday was a farewell party for my sister, brother-in-law and two nephews, who later this week set sail for a life down under.

I was drunk (of course).

It was raining (of course).

It was cold (of course).

It is July after all.... what else would you expect?

And so, this morning, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, it's bright and warm.

I spend the day reassembling the debris that I used to call my house. This exercise culminates in the clearing out of my wardrobe.... a great deal of "trying on" of clothes..... bagging up my scrap.... letting go all those "sentimental", scruffy, misshapen, discoloured rags. Really, I just say yes or no, as Dawn does all the hard work.

Tidied and wardrobed, we both collapse onto the bed for half an hour... A well earned rest, in a warm, sunny bedroom.

Out at the back there's a funeral wake at the bowling club.... some poor beggar's bowled his last jack.

A friend calls me to go for a bike ride. I agree to go. I hang up the phone, and of course it starts to rain. He comes round, and we set off for the ride, wrapped in waterproofs. A couple of miles up the road, and I am sweating under a bright blue sky. The waterproofs come off. A mix of road, and moorland, and maybe twelve miles later..... I'm happy and coated in mud and sand.

Half an hour later, I've been in the shower, I've a cup of coffee in front of me, and the rain is coming down with vengeance. Lightning isn't far behind. I thank my lucky stars for the hour and a half of perfect weather, where the salt stung my forehead, and sweat dripped off my nose.

Let the detox commence!!!

It's official.

I don't have a drink or drugs problem.

The worst thing that happens when I take drugs is that I want to come home and drink coffee.

The worst thing that happens when I get drunk is that I talk to eight year old girls about what sort of dog they own and train on the Nintendo DS Nintendogs game.

I consider myself to be fairly innocuous.

I can relate to adults (that wish to be tickled by fine Oliver Reedesque tales of debauchery) and children (who love playing computer games) alike.

Take for instance.... I am wearing a Super Mario Tshirt.... a guy that I haven't seen for about ten years comes up to me and says I haven't changed a bit - he didn't even need to speak to me!!

Such is life.

Believe me when I tell you I have "caned it" this weekend!!

I now have a season pass to "the priory".

So far, I've discussed stopping smoking with bouncers; talked Nintendog strategy with young girls; I've played golf in the spare bedroom; I've danced with my brother-in-law's brother on the bowling green; Tried to commission new windows for my house; potentially landed two weeks work as a labourer; enabled freeview on my computer; pissed off dozens of friends, relatives and strangers... and it's only just gone Sunday evening.

Not a bad weekend. You have to admit, that's good going for any idiot!!

Here's a random collection of pissed up photos!!


Rob "blissed out"!


Lenny "Having it large style"


The Len and the Westy - Brothers in booze!!


Leesy; Westy; Lenny; Wimpsy; Orey!!


Rob n Paul - I got you bro!!

Consider yourself...

... well and truly bollocked.

Yesterday, I received a grammatical bollocking in the shape of a Yorkshire pudding!! I use too many paragraphs, and the paragraph pigs are on to me!! It's something I do, like the superfluous, and over zealous use of commas..... and full stops..... just like that!!

My writing is not structured according to the English language as much as the thoughts in my head. It's a jumbled mess in there, and mostly I type as I think..... Those full stops right there, are where my brain comes up for breath, or I consider whether I am going in the right direction momentarily.

One thing I DO know, and this is where my incorrect usage of paragraphs comes from, is that the attention span of your average web page reader (not dissimilar to my own) resembles the amount of time it takes for the Bullseye dartboard to rotate!! long paragraphs of text are a turnoff. I can read books..... even when they have small words on the pages and no pictures.... but a book is a tactile experience.... web pages aren't!!

And so.... It comes to pass, that I will continue to breach the rules of paragraphing and commaing. It will not be something I am proud of. I will always appreciate constructive criticism on the subject. I am always open to personal development.

The day that my favourite sweets received an ASBO!!

Amazing.

A random music robbing spree.......

I love to get music for free..... it's not something everyone agrees with.

On a quest to find an album for my "ladyfriend" this evening......

I start to download this album - it's a double - forty tracks!!!

I think it's just rude to take forty tracks from someone and not even say hello.

We chat a while and swap some music ideas.... likes and dislikes.... that sort of thing......

Then he tells me about this!!!

Erik Mongrain - Playing guitar in a style called "airtapping".

I like it, and that's a positive to stealing music!!

(Don't forget to stop my media player over there on the right hand side before playing this video otherwise you'll be MC'ing a whole heap of noise!!)

Raaaaaaaarrrrrr!!

Just effing raaaarrrrr!!!

I feel boxed in.... pacing the confines of my blog, unable to escape the enclosure.

Unable to express myself in case one of the lollygagging spectators might take offence.

Sometimes, and increasingly with time, I wish I blogged anonymously.

Long gone are the days when I didn't care who or what happened upon my random scribblings. The opportunity to jot cathartic etchings that purged my soul of its woes and worries have disappeared into the ether.

I'm just effing...... RAAAAAARRRR!!!!!

They say that one hundred pennies makes a pound.... and nobody can deny it.

I am of the controversial opinion that one hundred molehills do make a frikking big mountain.

Niggly things, monkeys on my back, gripes, bellyaches..... Just RAAAAARRRRR!!!!!

Sometimes I want to pull up the drawbridge...... Draw the curtains....... Park the car around the corner from my house (giving the impression that I am out).......... Turn off the phone.......

RAAAAARRRRR!!!!

Do NOT feed the animals!!

Mangle!

I don't get it. For some strange reason, today, I feel emotional.

It's very unlike me.

I'm not often one to pay much heed to my emotions. They come and they go, and I know that they are as fleeting as thoughts.

I feel the need to immerse myself in something which will bury my emotional head in the sand. I begin to wonder how long I have already been immersed, and whether I have been hiding from it for any length of time already?

I am not even sure what it is that is making me emotional. I think sometimes we all like an outburst. I am not sure if "like" is the correct descriptor, but in the confines of a short blog entry, it will have to suffice.

I'm starting to feel a bit dangerous. I imagine waking on a metaphorical "morning after the night before" with an emotional hangover, wondering what the hell I have done, who I managed to offend, and who I sent all those drunken texts to. A bit out of sorts. Out of control and out of sorts. Yes, dangerous.

I put it down to the endorphin drain from starting to ride my bike again. Coupled with the fact that I am having a musical renaissance - listening to lots and lots of new music and really loving it. Perhaps my soul is being stirred..... although, with a saddle like that, I would have to say....

Shaken, not stirred!!

So, now I have a belly full of shredded wheat, coffee and granola bars. What to do? The sun's shining, but the prospect of a milky bile incinerating my guts as I propel my bike upwards, is not one which I can immediately stomach.

Big Brother is always there for me.

Pogo is down, and so am I.

Update: Ten miles of bike riding later... Pogo is back up..... I am rehydrated..... I've had some creatine..... A few really nice comments on me blog.... the world looks much better through my salt stained sunglasses.

Same again....

.... please landlord!!

My old bike ride - I used to cycle five miles in one direction (mostly uphill), turn around, and cycle back.

I used to do it for fun.

The first time I did it when I got my mountain bike, it probably took me a couple of hours. At peak, it probably used to take forty minutes.

It's a relentless slog, all the way out there to that car park on top of the moors.

It's not a steep hill.... but it's a five mile long hill!!

This morning, the sun was so bright and hot, I thought I would take the challenge.

I've only been back on my bike for a week (after a gap of about a year), and the weather keeps putting me off, so you have to build back up slowly right.

Sun beating down on my head......

Three miles in, and the heavens open. Flimsy t-shirt.... shorts..... soaked. Sunglasses, rendered positively dangerous.

I reach the car park. I stop and look out across the valley, gulp down some water, turn around and head back.

The sun comes out, and in the 10 minutes it takes me to get home, I am dry. Literally spun dry.



It would have looked like that in the sunshine!!

Gibb-on!!

I've got a right old gibb-on.

For those that don't know the Doncaster dialect, that means I am sweating a bit.

Actually I don't think it has anything to do with Doncaster, or indeed anywhere else for that matter. It was a term used by an old friend of mine, and one which stuck with those of us that retained the work ethic of our simian cousins.

Pay 'em peanuts, and you'll get monkeys.

Pay 'em lots, and you'll get expensive monkeys.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a unnaturally sweaty person, nor have I been working too hard. I have just returned from a few miles on the old bike. Feeling great.... my quads are starting to firm up again, and that's fantastic.

My breathing's actually pretty good. I was puffing and blowing for a while today, but it's been quite warm and I did a couple of hill climbs, so it's only to be expected I guess. It feels great to open my lungs up again.

That's what you get when you are a non-smoker I guess!!

I didn't really want to mention yesterday, it somehow seemed too poignant..... I think I dare mention today, that yesterday would have been my cousin Dan's birthday. God bless him. I was thinking about my cousins and my aunty and uncle, but somehow I didn't want to jangle anyone's emotions by letting them know how I felt. I love them all very much!!

Anyhoo.....

Got to go get myself something to eat, and get my act together.

Hope you all had a lovely weekend.

What do you get.....

If you cross a monkey with a pig?

Well, not literally, but it's a good opener right?

Do you know the story of Monkey?

Well, I used to watch the series "Monkey" when I was a kid. A really oddly dubbed Chinese adventure about a cannibal, a pig, a monkey and a genderless disciple of Buddha, crossing India to find the holy scriptures.

Obviously, as a kid, none of that bothered me too much. The cool thing was all the great fighting action, and of course the monkey could fly about on a cloud!!

Honestly, I wasn't on drugs during that period of my life!!

So last night I went to Manchester to see: Monkey - Journey to the West.

It's a crazy "circus opera", whatever that means!!

A mix of martial arts, acrobatics, animation, music and singing, and cool costumes and sets. Three very cool people collaborated to bring us this show as part of the Manchester International Festival; Damon Albarn (Blur and Gorillaz), Jamie Hewlett (Tank Girl and Gorillaz), and Chen Shi-Zheng (Director).

Of course, I could rattle on about it all day, but maybe that's already been done more comprehensibly and more eloquently than I could ever manage:

Here

and

Here

All I will say, is that if you get a chance to go and see it as it sets sail around the world, then you'd be mad not to. It's unlike anything you will have seen before.

In other news.....

I have fallen so far into the Big Brother existence, that I now do my grocery shopping online, with a corresponding luxury or rationed shopping budget, and have it delivered at a synchronised time to that of our dear housemates. I am permanently pissed on cider, and live in a caravan.

My friend Emma is going away tomorrow. Boo hoo. She is going "Darn Sarf" for about six months to learn something about how to tell the difference between a healthy dog and a manky one. She will be missed, and the gutters of Huddersfield will be very empty without her drunken antics!! The mobile phone shops in Huddersfield are already going out of business!!

I am getting through lots of smoked mackerel. It's a poor substitute for cigarettes, and they are much harder to light, but they contain so much less tar!!

Smoking tally - Haven't updated for a while so don't even know the figures myself.....

Let's see:

Days smoke free: 109 (nearly four months!!)
Cigarettes NOT smoked: 4360!!!!
Money NOT spent: 1145 GBP (2302 USD; 2415 CAD; 283858 JPY)

That makes me feel a bit better, and it makes the cost of going to see monkey last evening..... completely free!! Woohoo!!!!

Happy....

Happy birthday Ma! (Said in a Nick Cottonesque cockney sparrow accent).

Happy Birthday Ameri-ca!! (See it rhymes).

I am not so sure that us Brits should really wish the Americans a happy independence day, so let's just say, it was a pretty rubbish film, and leave it at that, ok?

I have been a neglectful blogger again.

I have no excuses. I can get pretty busy doing not very much. In fact, it's an action packed week with one thing and another.

I wish the rain would stop, and the wind. I want to be able to get on my bike with some conviction instead of gingerly riding ten minutes up the road and back inbetween deluges. It's quite frustrating, and hardly worth filling a water bottle or breaking open a "Cyclone Bar" for.

Today I am taking the folks across to Holmfirth (That's "Last of the Summer Wine" land to you outsiders!!) to a local art exhibition thing, where my mum's got a couple of pictures up for display/sale. I think she's hoping for some birthday luck to rub off on them and for there to be a "red sticker" on them both.

Spent last evening gift wrapping a veritable cornucopia of small gifts. I often prefer to buy lots of smaller gifts than to present somebody with a disappointing ornament. Ornaments are just shit!! Sorry, got carried away, but they are.... come on..... you should never give someone an ornament as a gift.

Admittedly, I have a few inanimate objects in my house, some of which might even be considered ornaments. I do honestly believe that nobody knows me well enough to presume that they know my taste in ornaments though.

I have inadvertently rubbed tin foil across the filling that relates to ornaments now.......

Can't........ stop............. denouncing................ ornaments.

Sticking twos up!

Two good things have happened.

Well, I say two good things have happened.... In fairness, probably a great many more than two good things have happened, but for the most part they do not concern me. Well, they do concern me, and of course I love all the good things that happen...... Bloody hell, I am never gonna sort this mess out.

OK.... Disregard the above.

Two good things have happened to me that I would like to share with you through the power of blog.

Firstly, it was the most fantastical full moon last night. The moon has been really great for the last few nights in fact. Very golden, and moody, shrouded with wispy clouds. I love the full moon.

Secondly, it is officially the first day of July. This means that the country is now a designated no-smoking zone. In my wildest dreams, until very recently, I think I would have considered this an outrageous infringement of my civil liberties. As a non-smoker, it now delights me.

Big Brother is still bobbing along at a fair old pace.

I haven't watched last night's episode of Jekyll yet, so please don't spoiler it for me.

I am still loco for Pogo.

I put some vintage Big Brother adverts on youtube. They are from Big Brother 6 which was the one with Citizen Science and Kemal and Derek..... well, you get the picture. Feel free to watch them.

The things.....

The things you do for a quiet life.

Ok, so trying to keep something a secret by writing about it in my blog, was not the best brainwave I have had this week.

Realising that to placate Kirsty, I would have to go on another bike ride last evening, was also not the smartest thing I have come up with this week.

The saddle soreness that is plaguing me today is not something I would lightly wish on an enemy.

I feel like I have been jolly well rogered.

Standing...... in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil.

I glance around.

There's shopping on the table. Bags of sweet things, salty thing, greasy things and anything that's considered bad. Of course, this is my cigarette substitute and I don't feel too bad about it now I am back on my bike.

I take a cup from the cupboard. The cupboard door feels strange. The hinges are probably on their last legs, and I am reminded how owning a house seems to be a never ending string of minor annoyances like this.

Standing by the kettle waiting for it to boil.

Outside the window, I notice a baby bluetit and a baby robin eating the bird food that I have supplied for them. Fledgelings. I am pleased with myself for supporting the breeding and indeed survival rate of these feathered friends.

Subconsciously I've managed to eat half a bag of Jelly Babies while the kettle boiled. I'm annoyed that these tasty treats contain boiled cow bones.

My lungs will be good but I would make a bad diabetic.

Coffee in hand, back to the computer.

Shush.

Don't tell Kirsty.....

I've been back on my bike!!

Since I stopping smoking, I have been wanting to get back on the old push-iron. It's about a year since I was last on it, and that makes me a bit sad.

There was a little bit of maintenance to do, and there's still a frayed gear cable that needs replacing, but I've done it, I've been out there.

I have a little circuit that starts with a bit of a hill climb, and then cuts across the moors and a quarry, before planting me firmly back on a downhill road stretch to my house.

I notched up 30mph as I reached my little village today... very pleasant.

I rode it yesterday, and again today. Apart from the customary saddle-soreness, I actually felt a lot better doing it today than I did yesterday.

I promised Kirsty that I would take her out for a bike ride, but the weather has been so foul.... So don't tell her that I have been without her.

I think I will have a ride down to the bike shop tomorrow and get the gear cable sorted.

A few miles today........ From tiny acorns and all that bollocks!!

Pogo.

I have a problem, and the first part of curing it is to admit to it.

I am a Pogo addict.

Moreover, I am a complete and utter badge whore.

Even as I type this blog with my left hand, my right hand is arranging cards in a game of "Rainy Day Spider Solitaire" trying to earn my "Itsy Bitsy Spider" badge for a personal challenge.

I can only imagine that maybe one in a hundred people who might read the above paragraph is not scratching their head in dumbfounded response. Those that know, will instinctively know what I mean.

My free internet big brother link is buggered. The result of its buggery is that I now have to occasionally leave my bedroom, my laptop and pogo, to go downstairs and watch a snippet or two of the live big brother feed. Grrrrrr.

Happy anniversary to me. Last night was in fact my fourteen week anniversary of stopping smoking. I tend to mention this at various milestones, but today I mention it for the following reason:

Emma has stopped smoking!!

If you can all press your hand on your monitor and send some positive vibes and healing power in Emma's direction, I know she will appreciate it.

As for the nicotine lozenges.......

Yes, indigestion was a side effect.

Yes, the worst case of flatulence ever imaginable was an added bonus.

Yes, it did last for quite a while.

On the bright side, the downsides will make you want to wean yourself off them at the first opportunity.

I managed to take nine of the four mg lozenges per day for six weeks, then I just stopped altogether.

Stay with them, learn to love them. I found they made my throat a bit sore, but eventually came to associate that sensation with the idea that I was getting my fix. In the end, I loved the sensation in the same way that you might have once loved smoking a cigarette. Coming off the lozenges was the easiest thing to do in the end, and I know I didn't follow the guidelines...... I only did half a course.

Try to keep a record of when you had your last cigarette, and how long it has been since then.

Don't be afraid to know that if you want a cigarette you can have one. I have had cigarettes in the house ever since I stopped and haven't wanted one once. Knowing I can have one if I want one makes it easier for me.

Here's me giving advice..... Ignore all advice and do whatever helps you through it.

You have all the support right here.... Good luck, and well done for making a start.

Aftermath.

Seems half of Yorkshire is clearing up today.

We have had more than our fair share of rain over the last couple of days.

Some parts of Yorkshire have managed a month's rain in twenty-four hours.

For me, it hasn't been much worse than a cartload of ash tree pieces strewn about the lawn.

I'm quite fortunate to live on the top of a very large range of hills.

Not so the residents of Ulley in South Yorkshire, where the threat of a compromised dam has resulted in them being evacuated.

I won't harp on about individual cases like that.... have a look for yourself.

Amateur pictures.

Official report.

......

In other news, I wanted to mention a small concern of mine.

When I was a child, the tooth fairy was worth anything from five pence to twenty pence per tooth.

These days, the tooth fairy is paying out a whopping one pound per tooth.

By my calculations, the tooth fairy industry in Britain is currently worth a whopping twenty million pounds a year to our toothless shareholders.

Would it not make more sense to reward children who manage to keep their teeth embedded in their skulls?

Justified.

Today is not a day for going out of doors.

Normally, at the end of the day, I would feel guilty about sitting at my computer all day when I should have been out and about doing something useful, like DIY for instance.

Today I will feel no guilt about being wrapped up cosy in my bedroom.

It's raining.

The rain streams down the windows, working like old fashioned glass filled with imperfections.

Ash tree branches festoon my rain sodden lawn.

I climb back into bed and paw over the remainder of the Sunday papers. Yesterday's news isn't today's chip paper in this house.

Just in case anyone was remotely interested in watching Big Brother you can watch it here for free - I used a link I found and it didn't work until I clicked the Big Brother link on the page.... try it and see?

Big Brother free live streaming.

Hello.

10 Start writing blog.
20 Delete blog entry.
30 goto 10

Whilst awaiting another bout of misguided inspiration, I make cheese on toast.

One large coffee, two slices of cheese on toast, three coconut mushrooms, two pontefract cakes, one werthers butter mint and a large lump of cheddar later..... breakfast is served.

I sit at the computer and rue the number of times I have begun today's blog entry. This is possibly my fifth attempt.

The birds are singing outside, and through the closed curtains I can hear voices. Life at the crown green bowling club in Outlane is beginning.

Sunday morning and cotton wool behind my eyes.

I get hangovers very easily, and although not severe, it's annoying. A three pint hangover. I don't deserve to come from the north.

(insert time gap - Making Dawn some breakfast; Taking the dog for a walk; reading the Sunday papers; Snooze; Tidying the house; Late lunch; Some big brother)

Cue Sunday evening.

I am sitting at the computer in my tidy bedroom.

My tummy is full from a late lunch of fish, broad beans, asparagus and new potatoes.

All is well with the world.

Trivial....

.... in the extreme.

All this technology. All the money that's been spent. The wealth of information at our fingertips. I trawl the web and bring you some of its finer aspects.

First - Did you know Popeye actually had four identical nephews? Neither did I!! Believe it or not, they were called Peepeye, Pupeye, Poopeye and Pipeye. This is what they look like!!



Secondly. I thought I had a misspent youth. I always figured I played too many video games and neglected my studies. I could have been a better person. I could have been a world leader.

Then, I discovered a bunch of people who seemingly have misspent a greater proportion of their youth than I could even imagine.

Here is just one of them!! (Stick with the video.... the second half of it shows just how amazing his footwork is)

A simple....

..... blog entry, that explains to anyone who might wish to know how to check the search strings that led people to your blogs.

a) Go to Blogpatrol.
b) Sign up for a free account.
c) Put the Blogpatrol widget on your page (mine is down there on the right hand side somewhere).
d) Login to Blogpatrol and click "View Stats Reports" - "View All Statistics".
e) Scroll down to the "Top 10 Keywords" section.
f) Just beneath the "Top 10 Keywords" blue banner is a link to "View All" - Click it!!
g) Marvel at the wealth of information available at the click of a mouse.
h) Thank the Arctic Fox for all his efforts.
i) Realise that there is nothing in the search report because you only just signed up to the service but rest assured that it will soon fill up.

Worst blog entry ever!!

Following on......

and leading ahead.

It's a cheap shot, I know, but I really love the strange search strings that lead people to my blog.

So much so, that by simply repeating those strange search strings, I can perpetuate them infinitely.

I know it doesn't make for "good blogging" and it's not quite like reading about someone's personal dilemmas, but you have to agree that some of these strings make you curious!!

what happens if you crunch nicotine lozenges (Google)
I can only imagine that someone who recently gave up smoking was finding that the "hit" from nicotine lozenges was just not enough.

Jenni Falconer smoking (Google)
Good fetish action.

left to my own devices today (Google)
I wouldn't have it any other way.

do people nice things to the arctic fox? (Google)
I don't get it... Are you telling us "to do nice things to Arctic Foxes" or asking us if we do?

baby Arctic foxes for sale (Google)
Where?? Where??

greg wallace veg guru (Google)
Yes, he is, but you won't find him here!! Try the BBC website.

"Garden News" Magazine "top tray" (Google)
I wrote about this yesterday, but it's a wicked search. The "top tray" is a term used in fruit and veg competitions - It's a collection of all your finest produce displayed, imaginatively, on a tray.

bubbling bowels (Google)
Sorry I couldn't offer much comfort. Try laying down with a hot water bottle on your tummy.

what can the arctic fox not do very well (Google)
The list is endless.

cow poem udders huddersfield (Google)
Brilliant. I wrote this poem down a few days ago and already it's appearing.

what does the arctic fox eat and stuff (Google)
I know what he eats, but I don't know what he stuffs!!

room to write about the Arctic Foxes (Google)
There's always room to write about an arctic fox, even if it's just a little bit of space at the bottom of that page you are writing on, or a beermat, or even etched into a single grain of rice. Perhaps someone wanted to rent a room where they could write about arctic foxes?? Well, I have a spare, contact me for rates.

piers morgan (Google)
Hahaha I am proud to be the centre of information on Piers Morgan.

"jimmy saville" animated gif (Google)
I laughed so hard I blew snot bubbles when I considered that there might be a Jimmy Saville animated gif out there somewhere. I hope it doesn't involve young girls too.

the was a cow from huddersfield (Google)
Oh, that Huddersfield cow. A gem. A literary gem, I tells ya.

Slut Susie in Blackpool (Google)
slut suzie blackpool (Google)
slutsuzie blackpool (Google)
Her website, like Suzie, is well and truly shagged. Blackpool hooker with some unsavoury twists that would turn the air blue. Perhaps that explains her popularity?

who are "pinch" and "punch" publicity (Google)
Good question.

And so it goes on.

I have managed to mention young girls, a slut, Jenni Falconer, Jimmy Saville, and Piers Morgan, all in one blog entry.

I pity the poor bugger that finds this page based on those criteria!!

Sorry.

I have to apologise to a few people who have recently found my site, and not found what they were specifically looking for. The following is a list of random search terms which landed people on my blog. Hopefully they will all now find what they were looking for.

"how to break poison sword red steel" - Well actually, it was quite easy when I worked it out. The first thing you have to do is dodge - Press C on the nunchuk and left or right on the nunchuk joystick (together) while the crazy ninja takes a swing at you (he kind of makes a little noise just as he is making his move). Once you've successfully dodged his attack, swing the nunchuk about like crazy and you should give his sword a good whack. In practice, I did this twice and it broke the poison sword. Killing him after that was a whole different heap of bother.

"3d pictures of arctic fox" - Try here.

"Lyrics, Draw your brakes, Scotty" - Yes, I know, the lyrics for this song can't be found anywhere on the internet, and I've written about this before. Still, if anyone does find it, come back and tell me.

"arctic fox eating something" - Well, there are lots of pages with images of arctic foxes eating. The search term "arctic fox feeding" produce better results, and on this page there's one eating a snow goose.

"garden news magazine top tray" - Try here!!

"esprino-group" - Don't even go there, it's a Nigerian Prince scam.

Good news.....

Bernard Manning is dead!!

Bad news....

Jim Davidson and Chubby Brown aren't.

Corgi horribilis.

Cast your minds back.... back.... back..... you are feeling sleepy.... wait, that's the wrong sketch.

Cast your minds back to January the 20th.

What were you doing? No, I don't know either.

What was Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh doing?

Well, if you are sitting comfortably, then I will begin......

He was shooting peasants at Sandringham... Oh, did I say peasants? I meant pheasants, but I am sure he wouldn't be bothered which of the two he fired at.

During this pleasant little country pursuit, the party of eight's enjoyment was positively ruined, when a fox ran out from beneath a minion's Doc Martened foot.

The shout went up "Fox, fox" and nobody could have argued with the astute level of animal recognition. Then, somebody's gun went off, and someone else's too.... a few shots were fired (presumably so you couldn't pin it on any one of them - like murder on the orient express) and the fox fell wounded.

Poor old uncle fox.... he lay there wounded for a while until one of the minions promptly stepped forward and coshed it with a flagpole.

Hoorah!!

The fun recommenced and those bloody peasants didn't know what was hitting them.

Five minutes later, it was all over and the minion returned to the fox, stamped on it, dragged it twenty yards, finally throwing it into a hedge.

They don't call them beaters for no good reason.

Well, as a kindred spirit, I am appalled at this sort of behaviour. I thank the woodwose that someone cares enough to stand up to it.

Enter Mark McGowan (performance artist, vegetarian, and animal rights activist).

Live on radio, he ate a corgi. The queen's favourite dog. He bloody well ate one.

If you were ever going to forsake your vegetarian principles, then this is the way to do it in style.

Mark was reported to say that it tasted "disgusting".

(for anyone interested - the corgi died at a breeding farm, and was minced with apples and onion)

I will stick with slugs.

Day three.

It's official. The monsoon season has claimed the market town of Barnsley. A crack team of police divers has been sent in, armed with free snorkels for everyone, and Barnsley has been widely acclaimed as being the Venice of the north.

All hail the new waterworld.

June, and it's been raining non-stop for three days now. I tried to fashion an ark, in order to escape the rising water, but armed with three empty plastic milk bottles and some duck tape.... well, let's just say I never watched Blue Peter, but I now have a milk bottle mobile hanging above my bed. It's pretty but I doubt it will save many lives.

I have turned the central heating on. Madness..... sheer and utter madness.

I can live with the cold.... I can live with the rain...... It's the bloody dankness that gets to me. There's no real daylight, it's grey and miserable, and very very dull. It is indeed grim up north.

Lately I have been made to imagine what life would be like without thumbs. I think I will elaborate on this tomorrow.

Slugs?? Eating them??? Preserved in salt????

So, I set about trying to find out if any of this were true. Do people eat slugs? What recipes are available? How do you cook them? What if they've been eating poisonous plants??

Anyroad, despite my pescetarian tendencies, and the fact that I will get called a bunny hugger, killing slugs does not cause me any emotional turmoil.

Cooking pot in hand, I venture out into the garden.

You know what? Slugs don't actually taste of much, and if you marinade them in vinegar (as opposed to salt - you silly Yorkshire Pudding) then the slime comes away quite easily.

So, armed with the concept that I can now eat anything that might trouble me...... I have feasted upon: Slug broth; Roland rat stew; Steven the squirrel enchiladas, and Gerry the gas meter reader fricassee.

Tune in tomorrow for an exciting thumb experiment.

One, two, three, four, I wish my thumb wasn't quite so sore.

Random.

A random day. A random blog.

Fresh water accounts for only three percent of all the water on the planet.

Twenty percent of the fresh water is held within the oldest and deepest lake on the planet - Lake Baikal - Four hundred miles long and fifty miles wide.

Go figure that out.

The other eighty percent of earth's fresh water is in Huddersfield. It's been steadily falling out of the sky and onto my head for the last two days.

It's June and for the most part that means it's monsoon season in Yorkshire.

Every year at this time, the country's entire population of slugs and snails hop aboard a steam engine bound for Howarth. Upon arrival, they catch a fleet of connecting buses, and subsequently distribute themselves evenly amongst the gardens of Yorkshire.

For some strange reason, this year, they got it wrong and all ended up in MY garden.

Bugger.

I would like to take this opportunity to say - Welcome back to my old friend KJ, who, after an eighteen month blogging hiatus has returned. Hooray!!

I would also like to express my frustration at being stuck on some bloody stupid bit of Red Steel where I have to break this crazy ass ninja's poison sword, before I can start to even fight him fairly. I growl!!

Today being Thursday, I can only eat food beginning with the letter "P". I had pasta for lunch, pickled eggs and pecorino with pumpernickel for tea, and for supper I am having porkless pie.

Feeling old.

A strange illness indeed has descended upon my fevered brow.

For about a week now I have been mildly ill..... just ill enough for it to be annoying. Nothing debilitating or anything you understand, just weirdly off colour.

From the stomach gripes, through to the aches and pains in my bones. From headache to toothache. Acid scorched intestines and bubbling bowels.

It's just making me feel old. Is this really what I have to look forward to? I bloody hope not! Still, looking back to when I was in my early twenties, I would have guaranteed at that point that I would not be here today to write a blog.

Youthful nihilism is wonderful, but like a failed kamikaze pilot living in endless shame, the rewards of my over zealous days of consumptiveness are coming home to roost, like naughty pigeons.

Or maybe it's just a virus, a bug, a passing phase..... I have everything crossed, and a cupboard full of Zantac.

So where have I been? Why haven't I been blogging?? What's been so important that I have not had a few minutes to say hello?

Nothing..... Well lots of things, but probably nothing that the majority of you would be remotely interested in.....

Big Brother - I am gradually swaddling myself in the warm summer duvet of Big Brotherly love. I know you don't want to read about Big Brother here, but I like to state my case: The twins - I am loving them. They are the only housemates I have ever seen who have truly gone in there simply to enjoy and embrace the experience. I am disappointed that Lesley walked. I quite like Gerry, and although it's early days, I am starting to dislike Seany. There, that didn't hurt did it? Watching Big Brother isn't the end..... I must also watch all the companion shows - Big Mouth, On The Couch, Little Brother, Diary Room Uncut....... It takes time and dedication to be this big a geek.

Nintendo time - OK, so I bought a Nintendo Wii...... I completed the fishing game, and now I am settling down to play Red Steel - It's actually not a bad game. The controls take some getting used to, and I spend a lot of time spinning round either looking at the roof or the floor, but I am getting there. Cooking Mama is a good fun game, if a little limited in its longevity. Ten pin bowling will always be a classic.

Deadliest Catch - Its a TV show about a bunch of guys who fish the Bering Sea for crab. I love it. The new series has been great so far.

The F Word - I used to hate Gordon Ramsay, but I am now starting to actually like him. I think he has a natural talent with food, that makes it all look so easy. His choice to make that talent aggressive and loud mouthed has probably earned him more money than the talent alone, but I don't hold that against him. I also know Gordon will feel so much better knowing that's how I think.....

Celebrity Masterchef - I love the cooking shows. Don't ask me why. I am not a big fan of John Torode, but Greg Wallace is a good guy from Radio 4's very own Veg Talk. We're down to the final four contestants of this light hearted version of the much meatier Masterchef Goes Large.

Age of Empires - I am STILL playing it. I swear on my own life that this game has to be the best value game I have ever owned. There's no start, no end, and it just keeps going. I love it to pieces, and have played every incarnation. They've even announced plans for a new expansion pack - WooT!

Britain's Got Talent - Ant and Dec (my two least favourite presenters) host a talent search across the British Isles, to find an act that will be performing at the Royal Variety Performance. The three judges of this show are: Piers Morgan, Amanda Holden, and Simon Cowell - All three would feature in my top ten of who not to watch on TV - It's a recipe for a completely crap show, but I find myself actually enjoying it. From the Rapping Granny, to the Michael Jackson dancing monkey puppet act.

Hustle - OK, it's some light-hearted stuff about a bunch of grifters pulling cons against some unscrupulous "marks". The way the "marks" set themselves up for their falls is the weakest thing about the show, but the plots of the scams are worth a look. I originally was recording it for my Unc, but I am hooked now.

OK, it's clear I am becoming a telly addict. I am sorry. It's a much better habit than the smoking though. Three months have elapsed since I quit and here's my stats:

Days Smoke free: 85
Cigs not smoked: 3400
Cash saved: 893 GBP (1760 USD; 1890 CAD; 71665 INR)

Only 18 more days until Britain goes no-smoking - I for one am looking forward to it. A year ago, the concept would have scared the living bejeezus out of me, but look at me now Ma', I'm dancing, I'm dancing!!

Bugger it.

I am getting myself sucked into a Big Brother blog, and also into a war of semantics on behalf of a broadcasting company.

There's no easy way out of this for me now.....

I pull the Big Brother covers over my head and hope it goes away.

I am not too well today.

Approximately seven AM and a Nokia tune is clawing at my eyelids. Regardless, my optics remain firmly shuttered.

I can only imagine that the snooze button was engaged before my medulla oblongata was grabbed by a vibrating phone beneath the pillow.

Still, my eyes remain fettered.

Drifting in through an open window, a delirious cacophony of sparrows, blackbirds, wood pigeons, and starlings.

Sensations begin to arrive.

Tightness in my chest. Stomach churning. Internal organs jarring. Limbs aching.

Perhaps it's flu?

Worse still.... it could be man flu??

I roll out of bed and groan and growl as my eyes finally open.

Lemsip - It actually tastes nice, so I must be poorly.

Spent the day rolling about my lounge, wrapped in a quilt which has now seemingly separated itself into the four corners of the quilt cover.

I'm grumpy and miserable...... Nothing new then.

Idle Idol.

Big Brother speedy reaction results in our first unlucky contestant having been shown the door for using racist language.

I use the term "unlucky" in its loosest sense, you understand.

This is Emily...... 19 year old drama student.... White, with rich parents, who have pretty much cushioned the girl throughout her short existence.

She dislikes: People who tell white lies, are ignorant or deliberately stupid.

Here's part of a transcript which resulted in her expulsion:

Emily: (referring to Charley dancing/pushing her hips forward) You pushing it out you nigger.
Nicky: (shocked laughter) Em, I can't believe you said that.
Charley: You are in trouble.
Emily: Don't make a big thing out of it then. I was joking.

I think the definition of ignorance and deliberate stupidity is to call a black person a nigger as a joke on national television. I think it goes slightly beyond ignorance and stupidity when Channel 4 are still reeling from the last racist episode a few months ago.

Agree? Disagree?? Don't care????

Now...... Who was saying that all publicity is good publicity???

That's one car I won't be buying.

Huddersfield.

There was a cow from Huddersfield,
Who said that her milk would not yield,
Unless she had her udders feeled.

Not exactly a great advert for Huddersfield, but there it is.

Speaking of adverts, it would take a special sort of person to pass up the opportunity of pointing out:

Skoda recently made an advert for one of their cars, the Skoda Fabia.

Reputedly, the advert cost a cool half a million pounds to make. That's nearly a million US dollars!!

You gotta see the advert to believe it I guess, but basically, they make a car out of cake. Yes, plain old cake.

The disturbing aspects of this cake car, are:

The cost of the advert was equivalent to about the purchase price of sixty of their cars!

As glorious as the car looks in the finished item, it was deemed unfit for human consumption and ended up on a compost heap.

Now, I like to see a good advert as well as the next guy, but you sometimes have to wonder if there wouldn't be a more efficient use of time, money, and resources.

Does a car made out of cake really sell more cars?

Is it money well spent??

If I buy a Skoda Fabia, am I just buying a small slice of this very expensive cake?

With all the technology available to us, would it have made a difference if the cake car was actually a real cake?

I wonder.............

Well, for what it's worth, you can see the ad here...... Just don't buy the car, OK? Deal??

Angry kid.

Woke up, bleary eyed.

Within ten minutes of waking up, my day's tranquility was broken.

In my house there is an unwritten rule. Well there are several unwritten rules, but one which comes into play each and every first day of every month.

Pinch and a punch for the first of the month.

You are allowed to pinch and punch someone today. You cannot pinch and punch once you have been pinched and punched.

I lost. Again!! Now I have to wait a whole month to get the chance for revenge.

Follow up my humiliation with the most brazen piece of televisual misrepresentation ever (and no I am not talking about Big Brother for a change) and you've got one grumpy fox on your hands.

The news. It's a simple thing. There are even channels now which show nothing BUT news. You switch on the news and you fairly well know what to expect. It's usually a collection of stories from around the world about what is happening. It rarely makes you feel good to be alive.

So, I always choose the BBC news. I always watch on BBC1 because you get local bulletins every half hour or so. The BBC news is generally of a better quality than the other news channels, and of course there are no adverts....... Or are there???

This morning's coming up stories.......

Will Bradley and Stacey ever get back together? - A bloody Eastenders expose, complete with interview with an associated actor!!

Serious Andes - A pierced teenager joins the news crew on the couch to discuss what it was like to climb part of the Andes for a BBC television programme.

Any dream will do - The latest from a BBC programme where Graham Norton and Andrew Lloyd Webber grace our living rooms with their tireless search for a new Joseph. Starring Graham Norton as Jesus and Andrew Lloyd Webber as God.

I am left cursing.... this isn't bloody news. This is advertising. I pay my licence fee so I don't have to watch adverts. Outrageous.

Then, just as we are settling back down to some news.....

It's June the first. We have one month (exactly) left in this country, before a total no smoking blanket settles itself over all our public places. I never thought I would say it, but I am quite looking forward to it.

Coupled with the fact that there is a new "stop smoking" drug available on prescription, which allegedly triples the chances of success.

So the BBC, in all its wisdom gathers three smokers, and promises to follow them in their quest to stop smoking. At this point my ears prick up, and I await the item with baited breath that no longer smells like an ashtray.

Meet our smokers - Between the three of them, they actually smoke less than I did. One of them smokes one cigarette a day, and only if they go out to a bar. Is this really the best you can do BBC? Absolutely insulting. It's going to be a riveting series of news items watching these people busting their balls with managing to stop.

I think I will watch GMTV in future, even if it means I would have to endure Jenni Falconer. Yes, she does actually spell it with an "i" instead of a "y" and I bet when she signs it, she uses a massive circle to dot the "i".

Grrrrrrr

Busy?

Busy doing nothing.

Master procrastinator at your service.

Try saying that after a few sherbets!!

Well, I've been busier than the bees that nest in the rotten window frames of my tumbledown house.

I've been fishing, and dog walking, and raising mighty nations. I've been reading, writing, and ringing my bank to do the 'rithmetic. I've watched telly, scoffed chocolate, and generally done sweet eff all, all day.

Of course today is the start of Big Brother. I promise not to blog about Big Brother for a few reasons, none of which need spelling out. If you really want to read about Big Brother, then head on over to digital spy and read it there.... I can't possibly compete with the wealth of misinformation there!!

This shall be my only bit of Big Bro commentary:

1) There's another West Yorkshire girl on this year's show - and she styles herself on Victoria Beckham. Enough said?? Not nearly..... She wants to give Yorkshire a good name..... she should start by effing off out if it then!! (The previous Yorkshire girl was a a girl from Huddersfield who disgraced not only Yorkshire, but the entire British Isles).

2) This year's show is, for the moment, all women!!

3) As I understand it, there will be one man entering the house on Friday night.... poor bugger is all I can say!!

I love Big Brother, but invariably it ends up being a damp squib that breaks my heart. It's a cross that in recent years I have not been proud to bear. I am sure I will come in for all manner of ridicule, just for mentioning my love of it.

And so, as I take a break between catching muskellunge on the Wii, and beating up Seville and Lisbon simultaneously, I manage to write a few words......

Hope you enjoyed them!!

Ginger.

I am in the bedroom. I am sitting at my desk. I am in the bedroom, sitting at my desk, sifting through emails and generally catching up with whatever the world has in store for me today.

I am eating a ginger preserve sandwich. Lovely brown bread, and lovely spiced ginger preserve.

Some of you may remember my previous encounter with a jar of ginger preserve. Should you wish to recall this story, you can find it here:

Toast.

Well, it's safe to say that my current jar is still in one piece, and it's bloody delicious.

Now, the fact that I am enjoying my preserve is not really a blog worthy topic in itself. I am sure you will agree to that much. As I take the last mouthful of my sticky unctuous snack, I am reminded of something my friend's mum said to me about the original "toast" tale.

I was explaining to Dan's mum about blogging, and about the things I write about. I was trying to convey the fact that blogs are not just diaries, and they aren't just written like:

8:00am got out of bed
9:00am went to work
5:00pm came home

blah blah blah.

Mine would never look like this because of course I don't have a job, but you get the idea.

The concept of online journalling is quite alien to some people. They are entitled to remain in the dark about blogs, but for the most part I think they should dip their toes in the water and experience some of it at least.

I would rather someone read some blogs and then said they were all self gratifying bollocks, than just assuming that we are all self gratifying bollocks writers because some self gratifying bollocks writer had written said comment in a newspaper.

I often forget that some people actually produce good blogs, about real things. There are people living in situations that make for fascinating front line reading. I have to concede that mine is just self gratifying bollocks. They are not all like that/this though.

Anyhoo......

As an example of the things I write about, I quoted the toast example.

Dan's mum looked at me in horror as I explained that I had the brief moment where I wanted to salvage the jar.

She would have salvaged it and couldn't believe I didn't. She went to some lengths to explain how to sift the jam for shards of glass, even suggesting that it might have been an idea to just eat it carefully, checking it as you go along.

It made me laugh as I chomped my sandwich with reckless abandon.

Nintenblogs

i am sitting on my sofa pointing a nintendo controller at the telly and individually clicking letters on the screen.

it is a royal ball acher but how many other blogs have you seen written by wii?

worst blog ever.

possibly shortest blog ever.

Memories.

Bloody dreams and memories.

Strange dreams, and I have mentioned these before, have escorted me throughout my period of non-smoking.

I bloody woke up this morning with three distinct things on my mind that I wanted to recount in my blog. I also made a mental note that I ought to have some sort of notepad to write things in so I don't forget them.

Alas, of course, during the day's household chores, and some serious Nintendo time, the items of note have long departed.

Let's see if I can dredge them up......

One of them was about Brian.... a contractor I used to work with.

The other two.... what the hell were they??

Dammit, I will never make a writer, and that's exactly the reason why. This morning as I woke, the items I wanted to write about seemed like they would have made a good blog. Instead, you now have to listen to me wittering on about having nothing to write about.

Sunday.... All day....... Different only, in that tomorrow is bank holiday Monday, so the whole country is pretty much on holiday - except for those that have to work of course.

Which brings two things together in a strange way.

Some friends of mine used to have a regular disco thing going in a pub in Huddersfield. The pub was called The Wharf - and it was in Aspley. They used to have a banner outside the pub which read:

"Opun orl dey eksep sundis"

Don't ask me why, but it brings together the Sunday thing and Spice's request that I work in a bit of Yorkshire dialect!!

I've bought myself a Nintendo Wii, and as you can imagine, I am non-stop fishing, cooking, shooting, bowling and generally loving it.

Cooking - can you believe it? I am cooking virtual food with a motion sensitive controller, where you have to slice and dice your ingredients, and crack eggs and all that sort of stuff. It's pretty simplistic, but I am finding humour in it. Check it out - Cooking Mama.

Thanks to Dawn today, my house is totally tidy again. Inspired by my virtual cooking exploits, I made real lunch for us both to celebrate my new found sense of spick and spanness.

Crunch.

Grumpy morning.

Dawn gets out of bed and starts ironing. I have never known anyone who could face a pile of ironing each and every morning.

Five minutes later, I rub my bleary eyes and join Dawn in the kitchen. Coffee and much yawning and rubbing of eyes. It's seven thirty.

Five minutes later, the Kirsty emerges. She's grumpy and not speaking. The television goes on, and a quick unspoken inspection reveals that there is not enough room in the kitchen to fix breakfast. Back to the telly.

Ironing finished, Dawn goes upstairs to get ready, and to get Connor up.

I sit in the lounge reading the newspaper.

The Kirsty goes to make breakfast.

Connor comes down.

The Kirsty goes upstairs to get ready - The marathon has begun. I am sure the Kirsty will not mind me referring to it as a marathon.

I offer to make breakfast for Connor, but he doesn't want it yet. He lies in a heap under his quilt on the sofa, with just enough room to be able to see whatever is on the telly. The programme this morning is about some bloke whose fiance was killed in a bomb blast and has since found love again. I wonder what's going through Connor's head at this point!

I am still embedded in a two day old newspaper.

Dawn comes down and fixes Connor breakfast. She sets up a little TV table and puts the breakfast in front of the heaped duvet, and disappears back upstairs. The quilt doesn't move.

Ten minutes later, I notice that the quilt has not moved. I suggest Connor eats some breakfast. Eventually the quilt moves.

Five minutes later, Dawn is summoned, due to a shortage of milk on said cereal.

Dawn is ready now, and goes to the shop to assemble the missing items for this morning's routine. Bread and milk. Connor's breakfast receives the requisite top-up.

Eventually breakfast is finished and Connor and the quilt go back upstairs. Presumably from Dawn's bemusement, both find their way back onto the bed.

Dawn's in the kitchen, finally fixing her own breakfast. It's about eight thirty now. I take my leave and head off home.

The only thing missing in today's routine was Tom. He stayed at a friend's house last night because he has no school today. Today's routine was quiet. Sleepy, grumpy, and very quiet. What a difference a Tom makes!!!

I reach my garden gate. Step through and....

Crunch.

Snail beneath my trainer is obliterated into broken shell and mush.

The second of realisation, and as my other foot goes down.....

Crunch.

It's a bad morning for snails.

Mornings.

What is it with me and mornings?

We have never been the best of friends. In fairness, I am what you might call a bit of a night owl.

Lately, I haven't even had the stamina to stay up all night playing games, which given the chance, is very unusual for me.

This morning, like so many before it, I woke early. Too early. Too early for someone with no job, that's for sure. I think it must have been about six AM.

Like being chewed up by the night, and having given it indigestion, being unceremoniously spat out into the dawn chorus. Wishing it would go away, turning over, trying in vain to reconnect with sleep. Bladder niggling, just enough to keep the sandman at bay.

I got up and pandered to my weak bladder. This would have been the point where I lit a cigarette and chilled for a while on the sofa. Not any more.

Nine weeks and one day ago, I stopped smoking. My grand totals right now are even starting to impress me.

Cigarettes not smoked = 2560
Money saved = 672 GBP (1336 USD; 1447 CAD; 34547 RUB)
Sweets eaten = Any that I could find.
Weight gained = Most definitely.

Well, bladder emptied, jumped back in bed. Managed another two hours of snoozing before the light pried my eyelids with the subtlety of a shiny metal crowbar. Eight AM. I don't know why I have such a love/hate relationship with sleep.

In other news..... Big Brother 8 is just one week away..... count them.... seven days, that's all.... I am so excited. I am sure that I will have lost interest by the second day of it, but you live in hope. Hope that we get people who are less annoying than Danielle Lloyd for instance.

Noodling.

Just noodling.

That's what I am doing.

I wanted to write about the desecration of one of my favourite watering holes, but of course this would be of no importance to anyone. I should have written about the Grey Horse at Birchencliffe in Huddersfield prior to it changing hands and being completely ruined.

Had I written about it previously, perhaps someone reading it might have taken the time and effort to make the trip and find that it was a good place to go for a drink.

As it stands now, the arty comic prints have gone. No more tea-light candles on every table. No magazine and newspaper rack. The great tunes they used to play, and the atmosphere, rudely shattered by some no-hopers, who in a single flick of a light switch have ruined a lovely boozer.

The fact that I had to take my pint of Guinness back because it tasted of vinegar has nothing to do with it. The fact that when my pint was replaced, she deemed to call me "mate" has nothing to do with it.

I'm not their mate, and I certainly won't be back.

Oops, now I have written about it, and I wasn't going to.

Ok, ignore the last bit.

I've been a good lad today and run an errand for my mum, and also managed to take care of certain banking issues that required immediate attention. I am quite solvent now, so ladies, form an orderly queue.... Only joking...... Calm down Dawn.

I think I might watch a movie or two this afternoon. Something that has a little more pace than staring idly out the window, watching the Greenhead Park Veterans crown green bowling team who have come to challenge the home side here in Outlane.

Well.....

It just goes to show, the inequalities of life.

I have been officially missing since nine AM on Thursday, until now. That's three whole days, and nobody has even tried to phone me to see if I was alright, or whether my parents had enjoyed their Tapas!!

In truth, one friend did phone me, but it wasn't to see if I was alright, it was to see if I wanted to go round to his house to play fishing on the Nintendo Wii (pronounced, not like the Geordie hello - why aye!, but like the noise a small child makes when urinating - wee!).

Did I want to play video games? Does Margaret Thatcher have swastikas tattooed on each buttock? But of course!!

I am now suffering from Wii shoulder, which doesn't of course mean one of my shoulders has reduced in size, to the extent that it causes discomfort. Wii shoulder is more akin to tennis elbow, but slightly higher, roughly in the shoulder department as opposed to the elbow department.

I think everyone who has ever touched a Wii, has at some point received some form of injury, no matter how trivial.

My shoulder just feels like I have been shaking my arm wildly about, like trying to swat giant virtual flies, which is of course the control mechanism of said console.

Anyway, the fishing was good.

I have a strange fetish for fishing games. I loves em.

In other news.....

For Toad, today is Sunday, and for me, that means I am hoping it's also a day of sun.

Random commenter - Fishing through backdated blog postings at random and commenting. You make me feel warm all down my legs. I specifically enjoy comments like: "a post without a comment is a lonely thing".

Sir Pudding of Yorkshire - The very second I read your comment, I had a sickly feeling that we'd missed a fantastic opportunity to sell them rubber wristbands on eBay. There don't appear to be any on there, and apparently a green and yellow one would make us more money.

Sunday blogs don't come any cheaper, or less read than right here on blogger.

Smoke.....

.... and mirrors.

The news is full of the disappearance of a little girl in Portugal, whose parents thought it was more important to fill their bellies, than it was to be a parent.

I am not going to go into the whys and wherefores of it all.... It's already received enough attention. Just remember, next time you're tucking into your patatas bravas..... Where are YOUR children!!

What DOES concern me, is that the inordinate amount of media coverage lavished on this incident is detracting from other stories. Some of these other stories, that are sidelined, and shielded from our view, would under normal circumstances be headlining.

Take for instance the fact that a male nurse from Texas has managed to pocket a cool twenty five thousand pounds (50000 USD; 55000 CAD) by winning the US Rock Paper Scissors final.

How about the fact that a gardener from London has managed to break the furniture land speed record, by travelling at ninety two miles per hour on a sofa!!

Not tickled by either of those nuggets? Then how about taking part in the world's first underwater golf tournament, in a fifty foot deep aquarium in China??

As if that isn't enough.....

Tony Blair has decided he has had enough and picked a great week to announce it.... shhhh Tony, someone might notice!!

Prince Harry isn't going to go to war in Iraq?? Apparently, his very presence there would endanger the lives of the other soldiers in his squadron. Personally I think it's the presence of Iraqis that puts them at risk. Don't tell anyone though.

In other news, it would seem that the government have picked a lovely quiet week to u-turn over the issue of hybrid embryo research. Now, finally, I might get that monkey-man I have always dreamed of training as a butler!! It's ok though, because the embryos would only be 0.1 percent animal, and the rest is all human.

Watch out for a post office closing near you.... yes, of course, that old chestnut..... two and a half thousand post offices will be closed, but if we pick the right week to tell them, then nobody will mind. They're all too busy buying yellow ribbons. Perhaps if they sold those ribbons at post offices then they wouldn't have to close?

Can you tell I am a bit pissed off?

Ouch.

I love "shop banter".

It's a term I think I invented, and it relates to those brief over-the-counter encounters we all have with shop staff.

The best types of shop banter are usually to be found in smaller shops, which I imagine are staffed by someone you might consider to be the owner. Perhaps a newsagent or a fishmonger or even a hardware store?

I am desperately racking my tiny brain to remember where I had this poignant piece of shop banter.....

Time passes....

Cogs whirr......

Kettle goes on...... Coffee is made......

Cue cutaway scene of sun rising and setting and moon (all speeded up to signify the passing of weeks) replacing it, repeating over and over again like at the end of Evil Dead Three - Medieval Dead - Army of Darkness.

Bingo.....

Fox brushes the cobwebs from the keyboard and resumes typing......

Janet Green Photographic in Halifax - Obviously not the place to be buying photographic memories, is it now!!!!

I was looking at cameras in the week that I gave up smoking. It all kind of ties in nicely now.... in fact it all ties together so much better than when I actually started writing this blog.

Ok, so I stopped smoking, and I am telling this guy in the camera shop that the money I save is going towards a new camera. He tells me he used to smoke, and that he stopped, and now he always gets a sore throat.

So, how apt, that on my eight week anniversary of not smoking a cigarette, I've developed a sore throat, and was reminded of his comment, but couldn't remember who had told me.

I look in the medicine cupboard for something to ease the discomfort of having a cheese grater rammed sideways down my oesophagus. Strepsils.... Medicine for sore throats, or so they tell me.

I go the whole hog and take two. Not that I am greedy you understand, but all medicines in my experience are better doubled at the start.

Nonchalantly flipping the packet over..... Expires July 2005!!

Bugger.

Conflict.

A war zone stretches in front of me. Burning rubble, scattered debris, and a sense of horror that can only be experienced at first hand.

I begin by trying to reach the sanctuary of the sofa, but am thwarted by the mountain of dismembered crisp bags and sweet wrappers.

Beaten back to the kitchen, I manage to put rearrange the washing up, so it appears that far fewer plates and knives are lying wounded requiring medevac.

Biscuit boxes, cereal packs, and a mountain of unanswered correspondence (and more importantly, unattended bills) festoon my sideboards, providing cover for the coffee spills and crumbs.

I decide it's a safer bet to dig in, and wait until it's all over.

I grab the laptop, and trip over the discarded pile of clothing and towels outside the bathroom, steady myself, and head back to the kitchen.

Where to start?

Paperwork..... I am gradually shredding it all. I have devised a system. It's quite simple really. First pass, flick through the box of papers, separating keepers from shredders. Second pass, through the pile of keepers...... Do I really need it?? More shredders. Third pass, close your eyes and shred the keepers pile AND the shredding pile, denying all knowledge.... I never had to sign for any of it, therefore I never saw it... Did someone say Enron?

Washing up.... Put away the stuff that was washed up a few days ago, and is now dry. Everything else needs to soak!! Bowl of water, leave for three days, or until you need something in the bowl.

Find something else to do.... Hence the laptop and the blog!!

Makes a change from "wind in the willows" eh Toad?