Trying to relax.

Sometimes you have to take a step back and just relax a bit.

We started the process by going for a lovely walk across the golf course in the snow that has appeared over the last twenty-four hours. It was nice to be able to just walk, completely freely, across the hallowed turf, where you would normally have to risk a clonk on the bonce from either an enraged golfer's club or a wayward golf ball. I love walking in snow. A couple of kids threw snowballs at us, and to their delight I fired right back.



Next up, at lunchtime, as the snow began to thaw, we headed off to Haworth, deep in Bronte country. We rode the steam train from Haworth to Keighley, an old fashioned train-spotter's delight.... I can't deny that it's always been a charming, pleasant experience to travel by steam.


Real, honest to God gaslights.


Dawn, freezing to death, fully bemused by my choice of entertainment.


Thar she blows, our train pulls into platform one!!

We spent a while looking round the town of Keighley, which is a strange place full of rugby fans, chavs, and weirdos. I am sure that not everyone in Keighley fits into one of those categories, but I bet it's at least an eighty percent fit. We rode the train back to Haworth, and enjoyed real ale from the buffet car. Pleasant is right!

In the evening we headed to Bradford to try a curry house that has recently been recommended to me by several of my befriended Bob's Taxis taxi drivers. I've had better, is about all I will say about the curry at Anams on Great Horton Road. The starters were nice enough (We had a masala fish and an aloo tikka) but both main courses were disappointing. Overcooked chopped up king prawns for me, and some kofta that didn't hit the high notes for Dawn. The rice and tandoori rotis were delicious and the jug of strawberry lassi was good too, but the idea of charging me fifty pence for extra chillies because I asked for my dish to be cooked on the hot side, is unnecessary and petty. I'm pleased we went there, but not sure I'd hurry back.

Came home (avoiding the temptations of the Barge and Barrel) and relaxed in the obligatory pyjamas with compulsory over-filled belly, the symptom of any curry night!!

I am relaxed.

They tell me.....

... you should never let those bleeping bleepards grind you down!!

I have often said the same thing myself in advice to anyone who might be feeling slightly "under the cosh" at the mercy of "the man".

It's just bloody hard sometimes to keep smiling when everyone is trying to grind you down with electric orbital sanders turned up to number eleven.

The car saga rumbles on.....

They've had my car at the windscreen place for four days. This factor is unacceptable in its own right, when you consider that it should have been a mere twenty four hours.

Yesterday afternoon after three days, having not received the phone call they promised me, and against my better judgement, I phoned them..... the phone jockey goes to check... despite the fact that I know you can see out of the office window directly into the work area..... he comes back.... "yes, they're working on it now. It will be ready at four thirty".

Ok, so here's the catch.... they've got my car.... at the other side of Huddersfield.... what time do they close? Five o' clock!! I have a thirty minute window to get across Huddersfield in the rush hour, and it's snowing.

"Look, what time do you open tomorrow morning" I ask.....

"Eight thirty"

"I'll be there at nine"

"Ok see you in the morning".

I turn up this morning, and they move a car that's parked in front of mine, and then between them they push my car out of the garage. He comes in and says "Oh by the way, were you having trouble with the battery?".

"No"

"Well we came to start it yesterday and it was flat".

"Ok, so you've charged it then?"

"No, but we will bump it off the forecourt for you and you'll need to run it around a bit"

Then they open the boot and start cleaning out all the broken glass from the old piece that's all shattered inside.

Four frikking days.... you haven't even managed to tidy up after the job that you did yesterday afternoon and you've flattened my battery??

I get in the car and drive off.... with smoke billowing out of my ears.... I'm trying to stay calm.... honestly, but if one person..... just one person steps moderately over the line......

Kaboom!!

You wouldn't.....

... like me when I am angry.

Yesterday morning, I awoke to find that the rear window of my car was smashed. Vandalism? A freak accident as a result of a badly surfaced road spewing gravel everywhere and a boy racer speeding past? Who knows?

I search for my insurance details to find out whether I might have some sort of windscreen cover that might actually apply to the back window of the car as well as the front window... seems like a long shot, but it just might work.

Eventually I give up looking for my documents and phone the insurance company and play the "dumb" card, which isn't hard to do!! It transpires that I DO indeed have cover for the window, but I have to pay seventy pounds (140USD) excess, and the lovely tinting will have to be paid for out of my own pocket.... not cheap.

The insurance company give me another number to ring at the RAC. I phone them and a VERY helpful chap talks me through the process with the consummate skill of a genuine teleprompted sales operative. Someone will ring me to book it in to RAC Windscreens.

The call comes.... they don't have the glass in stock, despite their claim (We stock glass for more than 10,000 vehicles)....... it will be there tomorrow morning, but I can take my car down there and it will be locked up overnight and secure. I agree and take the car down there. I leave it with them.

This morning they call me to tell me that they have ordered the wrong glass because my car is non-standard and has a spoiler across the top of the window, which was added after it was made, which is absolute bullshit, but I am in no mood to argue..... In a deja vue-esque twist of fate, the correct glass will be there tomorrow morning, despite their claim that (We stock glass for more than 10,000 vehicles) or indeed their claim that (Our staff are highly trained and their work is guaranteed)....

What I can't understand is:

a) If they had the car all day yesterday, and coupled with the fact that I pointed out that this model of Honda is ALWAYS a problem, they didn't bother to check what they were ordering against the car they had in their possession.

b) How can a piece of glass which apparently isn't made, because the car has been modified after sale, be made available by tomorrow morning? It can't can it? They've just simply ordered the wrong one haven't they?

c) Would I go there out of choice or recommend their services to anyone other than my worst enemy...... not on your Nelly!!

The point where I make breakfast.

A bowl of raisin wheats and a cup of black coffee.

I've just sat down to my breakfast, an hour after getting up.... I've been sadly distracted.

I got up, and waded through about a thousand spam emails about increasing my girth, or my breasts, or buying a fake rolex watch or a piece of pirated software. I wonder how many people respond to these emails and ever buy any of the fake, fraudulent and downright useless merchandise on offer... how can the business of spam email be so productive... does anyone make money out of it?

I spend a while using a piece of peer-to-peer software for downloading some music, searching for a tune about a dead horse. I come across a few, but none of which have the right to supersede the "cliffs of dover" song, which you may already be listening to.... one of the songs was by Guns N Roses (note the "N" - it still makes me laugh and I wonder whether it should be capitalised or not?), and when I started downloading it, the user from whom it was arriving promptly decided to ban me.... which set me to wondering why someone would object to having someone else download music from them when they are using a peer-to-peer music sharing software... perhaps they were a horse lover and this leads me to wondering why a horse lover would have a song about a dead horse.... mebbe they were just a MASSIVE Guns N Roses fan??

Ho hum.... so no dead horse track.....

Breakfast beckons......

I switched the television on some time ago and still haven't got around to bringing my Sky box out of standby mode. The DVD player logo is still whizzing round the screen..... I wrestle the remotes and get a picture going..... it's Ray Mears going on about yoinking!! I watch a bit until I realise I have already seen it!!

Breakfast.....

I go down to the kitchen.... and notice out of the window, that the daffodil I have been watching over the last few days is finally open. The first flower of spring (in my garden at least) in all its glowing spring-like glory. I have been meaning to take a photograph of it, so I run upstairs, grab my camera, put on a pair of flip-flops (a fetching look with pyjama bottoms and a "Spider Pig" sweatshirt) and crouching in the garden, manage to get a couple of snaps. I stand up and notice a bewildered looking see-it-all nosey local resident standing at the end of the garden wondering what the hell I was doing...... I wave good morning and head back to the safety of the kitchen.

Breakfast......

I put down the camera, and turn to make my breakfast.....

I notice that my mousetrap has scored another hit!! Mouse number 16, clean and efficiently dispatched. I run back upstairs to get my mobile phone to take the requisite pictures for the "Man VS Mouse" section of my blog (I spend five minutes emptying the camera of all the previous pictures which confuse me each time I go through this exercise)and I empty the trap, reset it, discard the mouse and then clean myself and everything that came in contact with the operation.

Breakfast.....

I get a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, and marvel at the amount of random thought that can go through one's mind in a short amount of time.

Groans.

Well it started like any other day....

My mum texted me to ask me to report a problem with her landline phone. I sarcastically reply to ask why, if her mobile phone is working, she doesn't report her own phone being out of order!! It takes a further ten minutes and a phone call to actually explain the error of her ways!!

I got out of bed, and assembled the last piece of the job application jigsaw puzzle and headed out to the post office. Job done, the application is now in the postal system, and I must keep my fingers crossed that:

a) It doesn't get lost in the post.
b) The effort I have put into it will at least reap an interview.

I choked at the fact that I forgot to scan the documents in before I posted them all off.... A silly mistake, but one I will hopefully not come to regret!!

I came home, had beans on toast and a lovely baked apple for my lunch.

Went out for a pleasant post-luncheon stroll.... noticing how out of shape I have managed to become since the hardcore hiking of last summer..... Winter and plantar fasciitis have a lot to answer for. My heel is still very painful and gets tired very easily, but it's not so bad over the shorter walks that I manage these days.

Played some Nintendo, nodded in and out of sleep, watched a little TV.

Assembled a rustic tea-time snack of crusty bread, pasta salad and houmous. Delicious..... until.... I actually heard the gristly crunch as I bit down on the side of my tongue.

Gaaaaak!!

Spitting blood and garlic infused chickpeas, and stuffing my mouth with cotton wool.....

Ten minutes later, it's stopped bleeding, but the lump that's emerged, just underneath and directly at the side of my tongue is making life very uncomfortable. Bonjela, Anbesol and clove oil have all been applied, but I am still like a lolling, drooling, dribbling, panting dog.

Dammmit.l

Sup it up.

Well, I obviously haven't been back to my blog this weekend....

I've sunk a few beers and the lovely Dawn has sunk a few ciders. We've eaten more than we should have, and the weekend has evaporated like the alcohol that's been coursing through my veins.

To "Sunday Search" or not....? that is the question.....

I really oughtn't... I've procrastinated too much and the deadline for my job application is looming large on the horizon. For this reason, I will spare you the usual search nonsense, and let you go and do something more productive with your own time.... and we'll agree to agree, that I should also do something more important with my time too......

I promise that I will not pick up my Nintendo DS.... again!!

Right..... onward and upward!!

Piss.

I am still bloody suffering from the effects of a cold..... wheezy lungs and a sore throat and blocked sinuses!! Is there any respite?

Managed to get out for a short walk today around the Rocking Stones Quarry, near where I used to live, and on to the, now abandoned and decimated, highest football pitch in England at 364m above sea level, at Scapegoat Hill. The wind was bloody strong, and it was very wet underfoot, but getting wrapped up and having fresh air gale-force fed into your lungs is exhilarating.

Despite playing far too much Nintendo DS for my health and or sanity, I seem to have almost finished my curriculum vitae.... the deadline for applications for this job is next week, and I really don't want to miss it. The more I've thought about the job, the more I think it would be a good career change for me. No, I haven't mentioned what the job is yet, and no, I'm not about to until I know that I either have or haven't got it....... I can't believe for one minute that, having not even looked for a job, the first one I see will be offered to me though!!

Let's just hope that if I get considered for an interview (and there's no reason why I shouldn't) that they hold them in the afternoon, otherwise I am cream, crackered!!

Rattle and hum.

Rolling along on the crest of a wave......

I'm ticking over, treading water, rattling round the house spending portions of time doing a myriad of smaller tasks, and of course, never completing any of them.

I think the fact that I got my Nintendo DS playing copied games in the same week that I am trying to type up my curriculum vitae equate to one procrastination too far.

Between Zelda's Phantom Hourglass, Scrabble 2007, and Cooking Mama 2, there isn't enough time to formulate a few simple sentences in a Word document, let alone write a blog entry. This is before I even dare to put Lego Star Wars The Complete Saga anywhere near my micro SD card!!

I pray to Shigeru Miyamoto that I can finish Zelda in the next couple of days, or find the will power to put it down and finish whatever I am supposed to be doing.

I also seem to be trapped in the habit of watching the last hour of lots of films. I seem to catch only this last slice of lots of great films. I really ought to get myself a televisual magazine, but then I never get round to reading it. I used to use Digiguide on my computer, but it's not cheap and you need it running in the room where you watch TV for it to be worthwhile. Perhaps I'll look out for a good free television guide tomorrow.

And so to bed...... drifting off to BBC radio seven..... bliss!!

Felt better!

I'm a bit grim today.

A shaky, sickly feeling is descending upon me. I am praying that it is not the start of a bout of the puking and crapping virus that seems to have done the rounds along the peripheries of my social circle.

In other grim news, I have begun to put my curriculum vitae together. I find it very difficult to summarise the twenty one years of employment that I have encountered in my life. To precis each job into a few sentences whilst encapsulating the requirements of the job that I am applying for, is a stretch of anyone's imagination.... not just mine.

In good news......

I finally got my Nintendo working and have downloaded a few games..... I was, of course, playing Zelda's Phantom Hourglass well into the small hours of this morning before exhaustion overcame me. Having played a few Zelda games before, it would be nice to think that I might actually complete at least one of them in my lifetime!! Even more so now that it's a freebie!!

Well that's about it.... I'm feeling sorry for myself and I need a hug.... and someone who can write a good CV!! I'm gonna go get myself a cup of joe and curl up on the settee with my Nintendo DS.

More o' the same.

Well it's Sunday, and I don't think I've done it for a while so let's just get straight to it.

custard accompaniment (Google)
It's as broad a topic as you are likely to come across. Personally I find that there is no better accompaniment to custard than a rhubarb crumble. I know Dawn prefers ice cream with the crumble as she's not over keen on custard. It's personal preference, and I don't think it's something you should be searching on the interweb for. There is no definitive answer.

two stupid dogs (Google)
I used to love the Two Stupid Dogs cartoons on the Cartoon Network. I always liked the little dog because it reminds me of the cyborg daschunds that have spinal problems and end up on wheels!!

golcar (Google)
I can't imagine why anyone would search for something as simple as "golcar". Try refining your search by adding words to it. If you want a chinese takeaway in Golcar, for example, try using the search term: Golcar chinese takeaway OR Golcar +chinese +takeaway = I think you will find that a more specific search will yield better results for you.

ugly pedigree cats (Google)
I always liked a hairless pussy, like a Sphinxter or a Devon or Cornish Rex. I know the hairless varieties are not everyone's favourites, and they are prone to skin infections, but each to their own.

fox arctic bugger (Google)
I beg your pardon?

badger compared to mouse (Google)
Badger= big, black and white, nocturnal, lives in a set, will not fit in my mousetrap.
Mouse= Small, grey, very dead!!

"fruit wine" pub huddersfield (Google)
Try a few of the fruit wines on offer at the Head of Steam (it's in the train station building). They have the Gales brand, and the "black beer and raisin" wine is delicious.

shave my chuff (Google)
Shave your own, and send me the pictures when you've done!!

how does an artic fox keep warm (Google)
Erm, it has fur..... I CAN tell you that an arctic fox's fur will keep it warm to the point where it will not actually start to shiver as long as the temperature remains above minus seventy degrees (so I heard on a Nigel Marven documentary..... but they didn't say fahrenheit or centigrade). Also it's arCtic not artic!!!

countdown carol voderman photos (AOL)
Thinking man's crumpet, the lovely Carol Vorderman. Also it's VoRderman, not Voderman!!

Saturday banana.

Two street urchins looking for somewhere to dance!!

I spent a good deal of last evening seeking dance music in the Huddersfield town centre. The promise of Wax:On at Tokyo had sounded like a good bet, but as we walked by, the club had a despondant air about it. It's quiet.... too damn quiet!!

The last few times I have had anything to do with drinking in towns, I've found them to be shadows of their former selves. Whether you put the drinking establishment downturn in the hands of the new no-smoking laws, or whether you believe that there is a CIA plot to flood the country with sub standard recreational drugs and euro-house music, then you still have to admit.... pubs and clubs are quieter than they ought to be.

That being said.... It was pissing down, and miserable in the middle of January.... the usual Huddersfield "hardmen" with their skin tight white t-shirts over their pumped up chests, with their hair all gelled up, are no match for these weather conditions!! Perhaps those girls often seen tottering around town on their high heels, with their gas-fire corned beef legs over exposed to the elements have REALLY decided they are far too cold in that outfit!!

Having sampled at least four nightclubs.... three ale pubs... and a couple of bars..... we ended up in a bar down the main street dancing till about 5am.

I wouldn't want to be in my head today.... oh, wait....

That'll learn ya!!

Some time ago, I bought a thingummyjig that plugs into my Nintendummyjig, and when you get some memory and stick it in this oojamaflip and plug it all together, it should allow me to play *coughs* copied games.

Well these particular thingummies and oojamaflips have sat idly by for a year or so, and I finally decided it was time to bite the bullet, give it a go and get myself some lovely new *coughs* copied games.... there's only so many times you can bathe your dalmation without getting tired of the routine.....

I went out today and bought the requisite memory card. I came home all excited and started downloading some *coughs* copied games. I plugged this into that and that into the other, and then got a cable and shoved an adapter into this and it was like some kind of crazy technological Russian dolls.....

Well, it was going ok..... I was getting some warning about something not being authorised, which of course *cough* it isn't...... I'm just coughing for fun now!!

I don't know what happened next... I think I might have pulled out an adapter or switched something off at the wrong time.... and now nothing works..... it just sits there with a white screen..... no errors.... no messages..... no clues..... just a smirking white screen!!

Bugger.... I hate those effing unfriendly errors.

Well, I've ordered another oojamaflip in the hope that I managed to overload it's quarter wave phase adapter and it melted the flux capacitor!!

That'll learn me for messing about!!

Waking up.

It's the new year for me.

I feel like I am waking up from a deep winter slumber. Like the spring bulbs that have already started to grow green and fresh, I feel a wave of productivity coming along.

Yesterday, I took my car in for its annual service and test certificate.... I will never know why I insist on taking it to the local Honda dealership, and the invoice at the end of this supposedly gentle workout, was more than I can really afford. Do they not realise I haven't earned a single penny in well over a year now??

Today I sorted out all the outstanding bills and paperwork, and only have my passport application left to work through. I also tackled a very troublesome, overfilled cupboard in my lounge, with utter ruthlessness. I even tackled one of those problematic corners of the room that has carrier bags and piles of paper and miscellany piled up in it.

Want to know something else?

I have found a job that I want!!

Yes, I have actually found a job that, not only would I be very good at, but it is a new direction and pays a reasonable starting salary, that would allow me to stay in the house where I live.

I have surprised myself. I have requested an application pack.

Question.

It's Saturday afternoon, and I'm up to my neck trying to learn the intricacies of "The Settlers of Catan", a board game which I have promised the Turtle that I will go around to his house and play with him and his little Terrapin!!

Knock knock......

A range of thoughts pass through my mind at the speed of light:

Nobody I know knocks so aggressively.
I bet it's Jehovah's witnesses.
I'm not expecting anyone.
Should I ignore it?
Maybe it's a parcel or a delivery?

I get up off my fat arse and look out of the window. I'm (thankfully) an inhabitant of the first floor of my house, so nobody gets to directly look into my living room. I'm looking down on the path to see if someone has given up the ghost, and is leaving. No such luck.

Knock knock.... a bit louder!!

Christ almighty.... I go downstairs and answer the door.

It's a bloody market researcher armed with a clipboard.... "Can you spare 15 minutes?"

I claim to be doing something important upstairs and that I'm not interested.

"Do you work?"

I figure at this point a negative answer would put him off, as anyone trying to sell anything knows automatically they're onto a loser.

"And how old are you?"

I have to think fast... how the hell do I know how old I am?? Just a minute ago I was preoccupied by a computer opponent building roads across the front of my village, and now you want to know how old I am? I blurt out a number that could be correct to within a couple of years either side.

"I don't have anyone in your bracket at the moment, so it'd be useful of you could answer the questions for me"

I tell him that if he tells me the nature of the questions, then perhaps I can decide whether these questions are going to be of any use to me or not. Foolishly of course, I miss the point that it's me that's of interest to him, and not the other way round.

"There are parts about your current gas supplier, about local leisure facilities and leisure breaks, and some about your views on cosmetic procedures.... it'll just take fifteen minutes"

I tell him to come back later, with the full intention of not answering the door. He winces as we finally agree on one o clock on Monday afternoon.

Come Monday afternoon, I'm of course out of the house.

Three o clock Monday afternoon, there's a familiar braying on my front door. I am definitely not answering it. I peer over the window into the garden below to see the questionnaire thwarted, fastening my gate.

It's over, I've won..... He goes next door and I feel somewhat relieved...... but then I see it.....

My heart sinks, as Dawn pulls up outside my house, and in full plain view of the man on the doorstep next door she comes down the garden path and walks straight into the house.

We are still by the front door when there comes the familiar ham-fisted barrage of knocking. I dive around the corner and hide under the kitchen units. Dawn is trapped by the door as the knocking continues. I can hear her giggling as I try to avoid wrapping my hand in the baited mousetrap.

Eventually the questionnaire, thwarted again, disappears, and we are at ease to indulge in making a cup of tea.

It's now half past five, and I am praying he has pissed off home and left me alone..... he has been back no fewer than five times, and I'm not sure the front door will withstand much more.

For all companies wishing to find out about me:

Cosmetic surgery is a load of bollocks.
I don't want to switch gas supplier.
Stick your leisure centre up your arse.
I would never go to Center Parcs - It's centre.... not center, and what the frik is a parc anyway?

Lying.

I told a lie.... I didn't actually (as previously promised) get "out and about" today at all.

I woke up at about seven AM with my newly acquired digital radio burbling away in the dulcet tones of radio seven in my lugholes.

I brushed my teeth in order to temporarily relieve the aching feeling from the abscess.

I went back to bed and faded in and out of sleep, catching bits of radio plays, comedies, stories.... you get the picture. At one point, I think I stroked my Nintendog, Marvin, a Dalmation puppy!!

I got up at about midday and tidied up in the kitchen. I sorted out lots of rubbish between discard and recycle....

Feeling that I've saved a little corner of the planet made me feel content enough to sit down and watch a few hours of the Mighty Boosh (another Christmas gift). A joyous viewing experience, apart from the bit where I nodded off a couple of times and had to keep rewinding it, and subsequently watched the same five minute loop about six or seven times.

Irony: Paying an accountant, a princely sum of one hundred and thirty pounds to find out that my taxes due, amount to seventy pence!!

Fallout boy.

Well, it seems that the worst that my abscessed tooth could throw at me, is now part of history. The pain has subsided, and there is no longer a requirement to be shovelling bulk quantities of mix-n-match painkilling tablets.

What I am now left with is a two part abscess.... A deflated, watery outer part, with a rock hard poison core in the centre.

The flavour of this particular phase of toxic shock is none too pleasant.... it's like having had both lips exposed to the vacuum of space and then they've been mixed with something metallic and electrical... I taste like electricity!! What is that all that about?

But it doesn't hurt now, it just feels like there's an annoying grain of sand in my mouth, which has steadily worked its magic and caused a constant nagging annoyance. and it tastes like electricity.

Having played a seven hour solid stint at cricket today, I promise to get out tomorrow and get some fresh air.... honestly, guv!!

Mending.

The first signs of recovery from illness for me are when:

I manage to drag my sorry arse off the sofa and into a bath that won't interfere with a raging feverish temperature.

When I decide I REALLY need a shave.

When I realise just how hungry I really am.

When I can muster the enthusiasm to invite a friend (who is bunking off work) over to my house to invest some time and energy into learning how to play cricket on a playstation.

When the thought of missing out on taking a painkiller is seems like more of a good step than it seems to be a silly risk.

When the stack of bills and paperwork that has fallen through my letterbox in the feverish few days begin to actually matter, and require some attention.

And so it is, that all these events have coincided in a display of syzygy, and I think I might live.

I am gonna get myself something to eat, and stuff my face silly!! Thanks to everyone who stopped by and left messages of support or sympathy or advice.... appreciated when you're suffering, it really is.

Please sir....

I want some more!!

More?

You got it Mr. Bumble, my good man... more, and what's more, I'd like to supersize it, and get a frikking drink with it too.

More of the same.

That's what you get.

The pain is subsiding quite nicely now, but the swelling.... oh, the swelling!!

I know I should have the offending teeth removed in order to avoid repeat outbreaks, but the thought of having to have false teeth, and of spending so much time/money at a bloody dentist's is really not one I would choose lightly.

Note to Hodgy..... Bloody hell, for all these years I thought I was missing out on something, and then you go and spoil it all by pointing out that: Not only have I seen Zarch on the Archimedes before.... I've bloody well played it.... it was called "Virus" on the Atari ST, and I still have a copy of it somewhere!!

A day of video gaming... of stormy weather.... of keeping warm.... of painkilling drudgery.....

Marlon Brando.

Well, I can honestly say, in my worst case scenario, hinted at yesterday, I don't deserve a prize for the accuracy of my predictions. My peridontal abscess is wreaking havoc.

I've spent the last twenty four hours in a state of feverish clock watching. Painkiller countdown.

I've been taking sleep where it has presented itself, and this is usually about an hour in the middle of each tablet.

The swelling has come out now, and my chin and lower jaw are causing the skin on my face to tighten up. Throbbing veins and nerves in my face, creating a nuclear reaction, combined with the toxic build up, sending my temperature soaring like a very much unwelcome eagle.

Every abscess I have ever had has taken this same course to a lesser or greater extent. I know I will live, but at four thirty AM with an hour and a half until the next painkiller, you sometimes begin to wonder.

I've turned the corner now, and although it's still sore, and I am struggling to hold a conversation, I think I might get a decent night's sleep tonight. I am even contemplating cooking something to eat...... Risky.

Thank the lord for my Nintendo DS Lite, and a whole bunch of Christmas gifted DVDs.... something to focus on really helps.

This season....

I arrr been mostly writhing about in agony at the mercy of my peridontal abscess(es).

It started yesterday, and has gradually increased in pain and swelling, to the point today where I have been out and stocked up on Cuprofen, Cocodamol, and clove oil.

I now have a freezer full of ice, and a series of alarms that tell me when I am allowed another painkiller. I learnt the hard way when I had the same problem a few years ago, that unless you track your dosages, it's very easy to doze off and forget how many you've taken or when you can take more. I remember counting down the minutes in the very small, feverish hours of the morning.

Such a shame, because the pain today, has pretty much discoloured what had otherwise been a perfect weekend.

I haven't done this for a while, so here are the Sunday searches:

chartbuster board game (Google)
My all-time favourite boardgame. I was introduced to this gem, by an old friend that I grew up with called Gareth. Gareth and Ruth (brother and sister) were deeply woven into my childhood. Ruth was with me when I got run over and it was their neighbour who ran me over, for one example. Anyhow, Gareth bequeathed me his copy of this seventies hip and swinging record chart based game. I, naturally, used and abused the game, and subsequently had to pay over a hundred quid for a replacement a couple of years ago. I was sad to find that the earlier version (which I bought) didn't have the goofy Tony Blackburn endorsement, with his cheesy mug staring out from the game box.

ZARCH archimede download (Google)
Hodgy: "Wevz, have you seen Zarch on the Archimedes?"
Wevz: "Have I F**K!!"

22 foot arctic fox (Google)
What the hell? If there is such a thing, you don't want to go searching for it.... run, dammit, run!

photographs pole moor (Google)
Ok, don't make me do this. Look here:
Here are some of mine.
Here are everyone else's.

"shop dropper", (Google)
I was alerted to the practice of "shop dropping" a few years ago. Rather than try to explain the concept of reverse shoplifting, you can read about it here.

MIRFIELD WEST YORKSHIRE HOME MAID PORN (Google)
Now, I'm interested in this VERY specific search term. I also like the exclusive use of capital letters, as if the searcher were shouting it at Google. So, it's a cleaning lady in Mirfield, that supplements her income through the making of skin flicks.... or it's a generic request (albeit incorrectly spelt as well) for any amateur rude footage which was shot in Mirfield? Either way, I expect it to be a bit grim, but if you ever find it, come back and share.

foxes biscuits mahjongg (Google)
I fail to see the connection.

cow poem huddersfield (Google)
There was a cow of Huddersfield,
Who said that her milk would not yield,
Unless she had her udders feeled!!

will an electric fence kill a mouse (Google)
Depends on a few factors:
What is the current flowing through the electric fence?
Can the mouse reach the electric fence?
Is the mouse that can reach a sufficiently charged electric fence wearing any rubber soled footwear?
Answer those questions, and I will gladly provide further information.

arctic porn (Google)
Chilly Willy?

Damn and blast.

Y'all should know by now that I watch far more Big Brother and subsidiary spin-off shows than is healthy for a person of my age and disposition.

You all may or may not know that, traditionally, January has seen the start of Celebrity Big Brother.

Some of you may even remember the furore that surrounded last year's Celebrity Big Brother and its racist undercurrent, fuelled by Jade Goody, Jo O'Meara, and the disgustingly vacuous Danielle Lloyd, against equally annoying, but undeservedly picked on, Shilpa shetty.

Some of you might even be amazed that all this happened just a year ago!!

Well, after it was (probably wisely) decided that the format of Celebrity Big Brother had run its course, it was duly canned, and resurrected in the format of: Big Brother Celebrity Hijack.

The new series started yesterday, on a non-terrestrial channel, so you need some form of digital equipment to view it, and this in itself is a sign that the show's popularity is waning.

I decided to dip my toes and see what the new format offers....

It was a brief dip, and I don't think it will be repeated.

A bunch of "talented" youth have been put in a house together... it's one step up from the "teen" Big Brother which was so dull, it was never even given much more than a cursory airing, and only because it was the first (English) Big Brother that actually led to housemates having sex.

I don't know about you, but when it comes to putting dancers and circus performers into Big Brother, and not one of them is over twenty-one years of age, then I reckon I for one am decidedly outside the target demographic.

I hope they enjoy teaching each other their dance moves and stretching exercises!!

Staying alive.

Well, if you've managed to survive the New Year's festivities, which in my case was a pub with a decidedly dodgy Caribbean theme (complete with inflatable fruits and spuriously attired pirate wench barmaids!!)......

If you managed to survive the dried out overcooked turkey remnants (and any nasty bacteria that might have had chance to develop in it) from your Christmas dinner over the week following its initial incineration.....

Have you managed to avoid catching the flu and chest infections that have swept through the country?

Did you fall foul of the norovirus and subsequently spend two days, with liquids magically materialising from either end with a will of their own, looking for the nearest toilet ?

Did you go shopping in the sales and suffer road rage, shop rage, starvation at the hands of the overcrowded shopping mall food courts, death by queueing!!??

Did you wake up this morning and find that you could not get to work because of the snow? Did you get stranded in some North Yorkshire village with your traction control working overtime?

Well.....

If you've managed to avoid all, or even some of the above, and have made it out of the other side of the festive season with your sanity and health intact, then you deserve a medal. I can only imagine you are the only person in your office who is still fit to be at work, and you're swinging from the light fittings and going decidedly "Lord of the Flies" while nobody else could make it in to work.

Be warned: A new threat is looming... oh, wait, it's not a new threat at all, but the BBC have come up with a new catchy name for an old threat, and as such, it's made it back to the top of the agenda......

Cue Scottish family, playing on their Playstation and eating deep fried Mars Bars!! Obesity is now apparently a global problem... and experts are now calling it Globesity!!

No news is good news they say!!

Saints be praised.

I went shopping today with two young lads who had money burning holes in their pockets.

Primarily, I had a few items to buy from Staples.... usual post Christmas stuff.... an SD memory card, some rewritable DVDs and a printer cartridge.

Once this little bundle was out of the way we went looking at console games.

The boys have received an Xbox360 for Christmas and they're mad keen to get some new games to play on it. The shops in question were quite poorly stocked, and those that did carry the relevant titles were actually quite heavily overpriced.... e.g. I am still after a copy of Wii Play, and I found one today in a shop but it was twenty percent higher than its standard recommended retail price!!

Anyhoo......

Eventually the youngest lad, recently aged ten, found a game that he wanted, and it was a knock down price of just nine pounds. A complete bargain.

I am a confirmed and self confessed gamer. I watched video nasties when I was under age. I drank under age. I might even have gotten away with going to see a fifteen certified movie at the cinema when I was just fourteen.

The game "The young 'un" had selected had an 18 certificate. I refused to let him buy it. I felt bad, but there must be a reason why it has an 18 applied to it. I wouldn't bat an eyelid at a ten year old buying something that was rated a year or two higher, but in cinema terms, I wouldn't take him to see the Exorcist, would I?

Unfortunately, it would appear that his dad had allowed him to buy an 18 rated game just the week before and both kids expected that this precedent would sway my decision... it didn't!!

You try, don't you!!

Feeling like I was being a bit of a killjoy, I decided to research the game I had disallowed, and here's what I found to vindicate my actions.

The swearing is completely over-the-top and not necessary in my opinion, but the game keeps you entertained so as not to make this an issue. Word of warning though, it is perhaps the most violent game I’ve played, and as such I really hope the 18 certificate is taken seriously by vendors and parents alike.

As for the one dad encouraged.....

It all looks absolutely amazing, from the animation to the game's over-the-top blood effects.

The squish of flesh being ripped apart by the chainsaw, in particular, is outstanding.

I am still unsure as to whether this fits in with a child who, until recently, was too scared to go upstairs on his own, or indeed last year was having "zombie" night terrors from playing a zombie shooting game!!

You tell me!!

Happy new year ya bunch of bloggers!!

Tired.

All this bloody jollity and festivity doesn't half knock the stuffing out of you.

Having been out on the town for a couple of nights in succession, I am beginning to feel a little tired.

The rash of third rate televisual entertainment that fits inbetween Christmas and New Year is slowly washing over me and rocking me to sleep.

I am in two minds as to what form of entertainment I ought to be seeking for tomorrow night... the eve of a new year. I can't decide whether to go out drinking in a pub and risk the chaotic taxi shenanigans, or whether to just cook up a few snacks and pull up the drawbridge for a quiet night in with some bottles of cider?

Decisions, decisions!!

It's not easy being a drunk!!

Have you....

Have you ever worried about the wrinkles in your "A" zone?

I can't honestly say that my wrinkled "A" has given me cause for concern, but then this is just symptomatic of the depth of knowledge I have about the cosmetics industry and their quasi-scientific claims.

There is now a cream that's called (at the risk of turning this into an advert):

Garnier ultralift Deep Wrinkle A.

Apparently "its precision applicator can help target deep wrinkles in your A zone".

They think of everything don't they!!

I go out.....

... On Friday night, and I come home on Saturday morning.

I'm off out for a post-Christmas drink tonight.

I've had my fill of warmed up turkey.... pie and peas.... sugared almonds..... chocolate liqueurs... selection box components.... and left over ends of pieces of cheese.

A man cannot live by leftovers alone.

I've drunk some fruit wine.... I've drunk some bottled beers.... I've even drunk cans of lager which were shaken up and fizzed all over the place when they were opened.

What I've really missed is a pub, and a decent drink. A fresh pint, selected from a choice of real beers, and a sit down and a good chat.

I've listened to a lot of radio... watched some television... and played too much guitar hero!!

Time to get out and paint the town red.....

Manana bananas!

Just...

Just a quick update to say how pleased I have been with my Christmas presents this year. The spirit of giving is well and truly alive, and those near and dear that have taken the time to choose something for me from my "boxedup" wishlist, have come up trumps!!

I strongly advise anyone and everyone to find an online wishlist creator like "boxedup" and to create a list. You never know who will buy you something off the list, and it GUARANTEES satisfaction.

A list also makes it much easier for those around you to choose for you.... and makes their lives easier.... it's win win!!!

Big thanks to anyone and everyone who has managed to make this a thoroughly enjoyable festive season.

Tra-la-la-la-laaaaaa la-la-la-laaaaaaa Merry Christmas one and all.

While we are on.....

While we are on the subject of throwing burning coals at passing Christmas carollers.....

The local hoodies and chavs were out in force last evening.

There was a knock at the door. Not just any old rat-a-tat-tat, but the sound of some ham fisted teenage girl with the social skills of a walrus trying to remove the door from its very frame.

I jumped up from my usual position... horizontal on the couch... sending the gamut of assembled remote controls and mobile phones crashing to the floor from whence they were perched upon my belly.

At the top of the stairs, leading down to my ill fitting, draughty front door, I could already hear the foul tongued harpies effing and jeffing, in a manner that might make the most ardent of tap-room attendees blush.

I decided that opening the door, to part with any amount of money, for a single line of any given carol... usually.... "we wish you a merry christmas and a happy new year" followed by them all looking like they are going to throw eggs at my house while supping cans of Heineken... was simply more than I was prepared to endure. Perhaps if they took the time to study a full yuletide song, and the intricacies of harmony, I might be tempted??

I picked up the remote controls and resumed the position.

I wouldn't even waste flaming lumps of coal on the silver tongued angels that came hammering for cash.

Bah humbuggery indeed!

One week ago....

One week ago today, I was sitting at the laptop, suffering a terrible man-flu relapse, trying to muster the enthusiasm and energy to write another "Sunday Search" article...... When suddenly, out of nowhere, I was bathed in the brightest, whitest light you could never imagine.

I lie, of course.

I boiled the kettle and dosed myself up on decongestant painkilling simulated fruit flavour saccharine cold remedies.

I shivered, and huddled deep beneath a spare quilt on my sofa.

In and out of a restless sleep. Uncontrollable temperature. Day became night, and night might as well have been day. Sleep came when the medicines kicked in and I woke up when I got too hot or too cold, or too thirsty or too hungry.

Since then, I've pretty much shaken off the funk.

I still have a bit of a chesty cough that's annoying and a runny nose, but it's nearly gone.

In the last week.....

I have shopped until I quite literally dropped from the pains in my feet.

I have drunk plenty of liquids... as per the instructions... and sometimes I have managed to drink quite a bit more liquid than one should really consume in a single sitting!!

I've tried to keep warm, and to stay out of draughts.

Thankfully it's been a prime opportunity for some film viewing. A blessing in disguise.

I've wrapped more Christmas presents than is necessary.

I haven't had time to even write or read any blogs..... it's a shocking state of affairs.

Am I the only person, who, at this time of year, would like to lock the door, take the phone off the hook, and shut out the whole world until January, when "sales" aside, everything might well be returning to "normal".

Perma.

It's like an Arctic Fox's homecoming.

Frost covers the ground. A frost, the likes of which I do not remember. For three consecutive days, I have woken to a glistening white slick of shimmering crystals. Then, when I have taken my Lemsip (boom boom) and look out of the window... everything is frozen over.

The low rise, boot cut sun, which doesn't rise above fifteen degrees over the horizon, does not help the struggling temperatures which don't rise more than a couple of degrees above the cold night's attempts. It does, however, look pretty, filtered through a misty haze, so as to appear as a perfect bright white ball, gently bouncing across the hilltops.

A hard frost. Frost of the roads, the paving, the grass, the trees. Everything covered, in what has not melted for three consecutive days. The start of an ice age. Thank God for the temperate climate control. Winter is such a beautiful time, I would hate to miss it.

My man flu is on the mend, and I have finally joined, rank and file, into the procession of lemming shoppers, queueing up to throw ourselves off the Disney Store rooftop. It's depressing. I get depressed at buying people "things" for things' sake. I get even more depressed at the idea that I might forget to buy someone something for something's sake!! It's catch 22, and the chemists are all sold out of the tablets to counteract it... I noticed whilst stocking up on sore throat remedies.

Seems I am never happy unless I have something to moan about these days.

I like the frost though.

Argh.

It's now officially four days of being sofa ridden and house bound, struck down with a fatal dose of man flu.

Feverish. Uncontrollable temperature, soaring like and eagle and plunging into the icy depths, with all the grace of a three legged penguin.

Yesterday, beer was mentioned, and although I am in no fit state to entertain a lovely frothy pint at this moment, there is the chance that if I make a significant improvement, that I could visit the Drop Inn's winter beer festival (14th to 16th December in Elland). That's definitely something I will be trying to get to.

I've still got a hundred weight of Christmas and birthday shopping to do. My paperwork has all run away from me. My car needs booking on for a service and MOT. I have about two months of photography that needs sorting out!!! My whole life is collapsing around me.

I really could have done without the green lurgy this week.

Blech!

I'm dying.

... to the power of ten, coupled with a death-rattling bronchial chest infection. It's like coughing out oysters that carry flick-knives!! A sore throat that feels like I've swallowed a tennis ball made of razor wire. Every tendon, muscle, nerve and piece of connective tissue seem to be fused into a big lump, that is of course rolling down a rocky hill and I am feeling every jolt, knock, and scrape.

Yes, it's the annual onset of man flu.

You girls are SO lucky you never have to deal with man flu, I can tell you. You're just fortunate that we lie on the sofa and expect you to run around after us, and that you are immune to this specially mutated extreme winter virus.

I can't even enjoy lounging on my sofa, which has turned into a fire breathing bed of nails, covered with a blanket of Vesuvian lava or a dense sheet of permafrost, depending which way the virus is pedaling at the time.

Joy to the world!!

Bollocks and humbug!!

All quiet...

... on the western front.

Since relinquishing chicken and cat control to my folks, I've been struggling to get my own house back into a working order.

It's one thing to move back to being permanently based in a house, and a completely different thing to make sure there's enough to eat and drink, and another completely separate thing to ensure that all the bills, paperwork and documentation are as up-to-date as possible.

On top of reclaiming my territory comes the task of re-centralising all my media files. It's amazing just how many sights and sounds files you can amass over the course of six weeks, and how completely randomly interspersed across all manner of media they can become. There is data everywhere!!

On the odd occasion where Dawn and I have a mutually "vacant" stretch, we are completely preoccupied with supermarket shopping and Christmas shopping. Today, as an example, saw me spending three hours in a single supermarket!! How can that be??

On top of Christmas, there's the matter of birthdays for Connor, Dawn, and finally Tom, all in the week before Christmas day.

It's hard work. Everyone should just create a "wishlist" and life could be much easier.

I think winter is just around the corner. A completely clear sky and frosty night.

Please wait.....

Searching......

It's the weekly rundown on those lost souls that stumbled into my blog, and what they might have been looking for.

BEST BEDSORE CREAM (Google)
Ouch, my research into the world of bedsores on behalf of this errant Googler have not been pleasant. Some of the images have turned my stomach over!! It would seem that treatment of bedsores with creams is not necessarily the best course of action. There are a range of treatments that must be used in a multidisciplined approach. If you want a cream, then perhaps try: Vasogen or Sudocrem antiseptic healing cream.

shadow stone Fold by Andy Goldsworthy (Google)
Everyone knows I love the Goldsworthy. I have been lucky enough to visit the Yorkshire Sculpture Park 2007 exhibition on two occasions this year. The "shadow stone fold" is a sheep fold at the park, with a large "shadow stone" at the heart of it. You are supposed to lie on the stone and create rain shadows, but it's never rained when I have visited.


has anyone used digitalfirst (Google)
Yes, I have. I bought my camera from them after EGears let me down, badly. Digitalfirst were actually very good. They did exactly what they said they would do, they did it when they said they would do it, and it was a lovely experience. I would not hesitate to recommend them.

magical eleves, cadburys (Google)
Now, I am assuming here, that you were actually looking for the magical chocolate making elves that work at Cadburys? Well, I'm disappointed to tell you that the real magical elves that work in a chocolate factory are actually employed by Willy Wonka!!! If you MUST pursue the Cadburys inferior variety, then they're here.

hot water bottle tummy fetish (Google)
I can honestly say, hand on heart, I don't know what the heck you are. What the hell were you looking for, really? This? Or this? I don't know.

megadrive game fox pig (Google)
Interesting one. The only game I can think of for the Megadrive that involves a fox, would be Psycho Fox, but it doesn't seem very "pig" oriented at the other end of the spectrum. The only other thing that I can think of, is a game called Pooyan which involved pigs and a fox and a bow and arrow. A real arcade classic.

Monologue of an arctic fox (Google)
You're reading it, right here!!

do arctic foxes eat people (Google)
Nobody that ever saw one lived to tell the tale. I guess that's a bit like shutting your head in the fridge door to see of the light goes out when you close it?

find me a slut in blackpool (Google)
Find your own slut in Blackpool you lazy bugger!!

wessenden cam (Google)
I don't think there's a Wessenden webcam. There are plenty of pictures of Wessenden though. If you actually meant to type Wessenden Dam, then you're sadly mistaken, because Wessenden is a reservoir. You can see it here.

Bloody meme!

So I've been tagged by Grilled Pizza

The rules

1. Link back to the person who tagged you. (Check)

2. Imagine you could send a letter back in time to yourself, when you were 13 years old, what would you write to yourself? (check)

3. Tag 5 people to do this blog (check) - spice-the-cat; maxxo; Toad; Mr Clack; Mr Pudding.

Ok, well let me set the scene. I would have been 13 in the year 1981. The letter I would write would go along these lines:



Dear Wevz,

I am speaking to you from the future... uture.... uture.

Believe it or not, but you have somehow managed to send yourself a letter from the year 2007, and Michael J Fox (who you probably may only know as a bit part actor) has not yet begun his successful time travelling trilogy. Make sure you go and see them at the movies when he does, because they're good fun.

I could pass along any amount of advice to you, which would help you run your life. I could try to help you make things turn out differently, but in all honesty, I think you've turned out alright. I wouldn't want to change your reckless, oftentimes spontaneous attitude towards life. Whatever stupid choices you make along the way haven't landed you in jail or killed you thus far, and you've had some wild experiences that will teach you a lot about life.

The best pieces of advice I can give you are:

Read more books.

Check out the newsagent's daughter where you get your Beano and Dandy!!

Look after your toys and games, especially Chartbuster!!

Never turn down a night out at The Orbit in Morley, contrary to what you believe, it will not be there forever.

Try harder at school you big idiot. Listen to your English teachers and your form teachers, they do actually care what happens to you.

Look after your feet. You only get one pair, and when they're not in good shape, it's very frustrating.

If you MUST smoke, then choose a VERY light brand of cigarette.

Do not lose this letter or tell anyone else about it.

To finish this letter, I can tell you:

In the future there will be something called a lottery. It's like a big raffle.

Make sure, that for the "Euromillions lottery" draw on Friday 30th November 2007, you choose the following numbers:

12 : 19 : 20 : 30 : 38 and the lucky stars are 07 and 09

Lots of love,

The Arctic Fox!

Imagine....

Imagine a world where I've been in limbo. A world where there are no comfortable chairs. Where cats are revered as gods. Where the longest bit of making a meal is waiting for the oven to warm up. A world so devoid of home comforts that I spend more time with a vacuum cleaner in my hand than I do watching films or playing on Pogo.

Limbo... how low can you go.... how low can you go....

Well, I am pleased to announce the return of my folks from their trip to Australia. They arrived back this morning (at about eight thirty AM) in the middle of my hangover. Pints, last evening, at the newly "Atlas Mill Brewery" acquired "Dog and Bull", and the "Rat and Ratchet" (merely as an excuse to purloin some of Lahori Taste's excellent fish pakoras) saw me a bit pissed. Subsequently, I always manage to tip out far too much of their chilli sauce onto my food!! I definitely suffer from chilli coloured beer goggles.

So, my tenure of dual citizenship is relinquished. Finally, and not a week too soon!! I don't think I'd have lasted another week. Thirty nine days done and dusted, and vacced and mopped, and fed and watered, filled and emptied, washed and polished, and laid to rest.

Imagine my horror at finally getting back to "google reader" to find a deficit of six hundred and thirty eight unread items. this bitter pill is only marginally sweetened by the fact that one blog alone accounts for one hundred and eighty five of those articles alone!!!

So, you can imagine, finally liberated, able to come and go as I please, I am glued to my laptop trying to play catch up. No doubt I will be catching up with you all very soon.

Finally, finale.

I am not the sort of person that claims that Arnold Schwarzenegger, in Action Movie X, could not possibly have fired eight rounds from the chamber of a Glock 31 in under half a second, because the bullets would jam in the barrel. For the record, that's not even a fact, I just completely made it up to illustrate how untechnical I can be.

I AM the sort of person that wonders, if Linda Lovelace really suffered from that mythical condition in that very rude film, then how the hell did she manage to eat breakfast? Toast, madam? Are you mad, it'd be like sandpapering my... well you get the idea!!

As a long-time sufferer at the hands of the horror genre and all the inevitable plot holes and flaws that go with the territory, it's not uncommon to find myself reassuring those around me that I may have forced to watch a terrible movie, that the reason she doesn't shoot the zombie or run the other way instead, is that there would be no movie if she did.

I'm no stranger to suspension of belief. Sometimes the suspension has to be so enormous that it would put the Akashi-Kaikyo Bridge to shame. If the movie or television programme is one that is otherwise enjoyable, then turning a blind eye is not too difficult.

And so, with great anticipation, last evening, after twenty two weekly episodes, I sat down to watch the conclusion of Heroes season one. I honestly did not know how it would end, or what to expect. Like so many viewing experiences before, I honestly was prepared to be disappointed, but kept the fire of hope burning (just in case).

And how was it?

Despite the fact that the whole series has toyed with the past, the present, and indeed the future, you would have expected to have seen what was coming, several times, from several different angles already. Well, you hadn't, and I didn't see it coming. It was.....

Simple, sensible, unpredictable, satisfying, elegant, and enjoyable.

Now, if only I could imagine that for just one minute, the second series will not simply turn this great show into just another ongoing money spinning "Lost" or "24" or "Prison Break" -esque shadow of its former self.

Suspension of disbelief can only take you so far before you plunge into the icy water below and wake up back in reality!!

In other news.....

Stop press: My folks are already on their way back to Blighty. They'll be home at some ungodly hour in the morning.

City Link delivery: This morning, in order that I would not miss the delivery, I decided to get up super-early, which for me is eight thirty AM, and feed and water the menagerie, before spending the rest of the day in my house waiting for deliveries. I was home by nine AM and of course the delivery arrived at nine thirty. Amazing, and I am bloody glad I made the effort to get out of bed. Normally I get "last drop" at half past five in the evening, and I've waited in all day. Just waiting for the postman now, before I head back to the Pole.

Chain reaction.

It's not too far off Christmas, and the deliveries are arriving thick and fast from all my internet purchases. I much prefer to buy online and avoid those late Thursday night sessions where each and every shopping mall is like a scene from "Dawn of the Dead" but with the zombies laden down with plastic carrier bags full of junk that will be broken by Boxing Day or will remain unloved in a cupboard until it finds its way onto eBay or Freecycle.

A knock at the door sends me scurrying around the house collecting various pieces of clothing at random, from the random places that they were discarded in the first place. I say "scurrying" in that, as much as a sufferer of plantar fasciitis, wearing one shoe, can actually scurry. It's generally a mix of tackling stairs sideways, and hopping, and hobbling, and generally trying not to overstretch anything in the heel, calf, or foot.

I arrive at the door, unlock it, open it, and find a postman frantically trying to unjam the parcel that he has already tried to jam through my letterbox, with the added difficulty of the fact that the door is now moving away from him. We exchange pleasantries, as if the postman is actually giving me a parcel (I always find that a strange feeling I have when parcels arrive... as if it's from the deliverer themselves... I guess that would by why the saying "Don't shoot the messenger" came about? - Don't kiss the postman for delivering a parcel that you bought and paid for yourself).

We arrange a suitable "secret" location for the postman to leave subsequent packages in, in the event that I might not be around at some point when he tries to deliver them. He's concerned that he will have to carry parcels around and take them back to the Post Office at the end of his round (ironically, this is his job) but it is a real ball-acher to have to go and collect them, so we give the secret handshake and nudge nudge..... third stone on the left......

I've truckled over the cat banishment issue. If mum, on the other side of the world thinks it might not be suitable treatment, although it was originally suggested by her, then far be it from me to argue. Forget the hours that we (Dawn and I) have spent cleaning and dusting and disinfecting and hoovering and making nice the house for their return, or the fact that we could, instead, have spent those precious few hours that we might have had together to do something more pleasant.

I go to sort out the animals. It would appear that I have lost another chicken. To lose one chicken is unfortunate, but to lose three is downright carelessness. The cats have puked all over the Rayburn again and I dash round feeding them and cleaning up their vomit. As fast as I can, I leave them eating their Felix, and head for home.

A "We have a parcel for you" card is shoved through my letter box from those lovely people at City Link. They are possibly the world's worst couriers, and I rarely EVER receive a hassle free delivery from them. I missed them by about the amount of time it takes to clean up a pile of cat vomit (three minutes to be exact).

I am further frustrated by not being able to speak to a real person and to find out if the van driver is still in my vicinity and whether I could meet him to get the parcel.

A robotic voice on the other end of the phone suggests that they may try to deliver it again tomorrow if the wind is blowing in the right direction, but of course, they can't intimate a time.... that would be far too sensible!!

Chuff a duck.

You sometimes can't win, to the point that you sometimes wonder why you bother.

I am in trouble for locking the cats out.

Despite the fact that this particular act was originally encouraged by my mum, it is, seemingly, now it has been put into action, unacceptable.

For the record, and in my defence, and contrary to the misinformation my mum has received, here are the weather conditions for Huddersfield for the rest of the week:

Tuesday (today) High 12 degrees - Low 12 degrees (cloudy).
Wednesday (tomorrow) High 12 degrees - Low 7 degrees (showers).
Thursday (day after next) High 13 degrees - Low 7 degrees (showers).

After which time, the folks will be back in the country. Admittedly it is set to come a bit cooler on Friday, but still I think you will agree that these temperatures are NOT cold for December, by any stretch of the imagination.

If you can't tell, I'm very annoyed that my mum felt fit to question my judgement and she firmly believes that against all common sense I'd leave the cats out in an arctic blizzard and she'd be returning home to four ice cubes.

All my frustration could have been avoided by a visit here!

If anyone else thinks these temperatures are too cold to leave the cats in a greenhouse then feel free to add to my splendid mood.

Post update update: Vindication came, whilst watching the weather forecast, and it was described as being "exceptionally mild".

Drums please.

Day thirty five. We are in the final week, and to protect our "tidying up" investment, the cats are now banished from the house and consigned to the greenhouses for the rest of the week. Mum can make the decision to reopen the catflap to them when she gets back.

I might actually have a use for the bloody cats at my house.

A trip into the kitchen tonight left me with a churning stomach and the ultimate dilemma. A bloodied and slightly maimed mouse is hobbling about on the floor. There's blood around the upturned mousetrap, and the blood is semi dry. This mouse has been suffering for perhaps an hour or so.

I pick up the dustpan and scoop the blinded broken legged animal into it and take it outside. I put the dustpan down by my garden bench and hop back into the kitchen (I only have one shoe on). I imagine that the mouse will be eaten by something or suffer and die in its own time. It's more than I can take on my conscience.

I put on a walking boot on my left foot (to counterbalance the trainer on my right foot), and grab my stick (I cut and shaped my own big walking stick, which is not dissimilar to a neanderthal club) and head out to where I left the mouse. He is still there, shivering.

I tip the mouse out of the dustpan and bring down the club. I must have winced and closed my eyes, and completely missed!! Second time, I didn't!! His little body arched and twitched and he was gone.

Poor beggar. I feel saddened that I have hurt another animal, but I really don't want them in my house. I also feel sickened at having to finish one of those poor little critters off face-to-face as it were, but I know it was the right thing to do under the circumstance.

With all respect to the mouse and to my sensitive readers, I decided that it was not in good taste to photograph this untidy kill. I did, however, feel it was important for me to share the experience, if only to make someone feel as sick as I did!!

Groan.

Sunday, and I have the mother of all hangovers. I think I qualified for a degree in mixology last night by sampling a range of drinks that certainly should not be within three feet of each other. Every high really does have a corresponding low.

I have struggled to bring you a Sunday search engine selection though, and I hope you jolly well appreciate it. Actually it was quite good fun today, and there were some amusing searches to pick from.

so, without further ado, I give to you..... ten of the best......

Marissa Miller (MSN)
Two people came looking for Marissa Miller this week. I don't even know who she is, or why, for that matter a search engine would turn me up as a possible source of this information. Oh, wait, this is MSN search so it's something to do with Microsoft... that would explain this seemingly random correlation. So, it turns out she's a model, and bang tidy at that!! Go see for yourself!!

jonah barrington squash download (Google)
Yes, it was my favourite ZX Spectrum game. I loved it. Not sure where you can download it from or what platform you require, but here's a link that might help (you will need a Spectrum emulator to play the images you can download). It was published by New Generation and cost the princely sum of seven pounds and ninety five pence!! The game also featured the "voice" of Jonah Barrington through your lovely Spectrum.

hairy women huddersfield (Google)
Yoink!! It takes a braver man than me to pass comment on this one!!

Is chocotate fatal to mice (Google)
Yes, especially when it is placed on my "Lucifer" French mousetrap!! You can see the (be warned sensitive readers) results of chocolate induced death here.

Where the name Arctic Fox come from? (Google)
a) It is a fox.
b) It lives in the Arctic region.

geordie slut getting shagged (Google)
Erm..... try Youtube!! Second thoughts try Shufuni (Don't try shufuni if you're under the age of consent and/or yyou are at work - Be warned it is VERY rude!!).

elvis rubik's cube (Google)
Not sure this exists as a product, but look what I DID find while researching this. Come to think of it, there might be a market for an Elvis Rubik's cube!!

arctic platypus (Google)
You're pulling my leg, surely? someone tell me that this is a joke? There's no such thing, surely?? Am I wrong??

biddendens (Google)
I suggest, if you want to remember your evening, that you stay well away from the Biddendens Dry - Which is a very strong cider, and contrary to its popular name, I found it to be more medium than dry... very pleasant, and possibly only to be drunk as the LAST drink of the night!!

devastatin' dave t-shirt (Google)
Don't say I never give you anything. Here, in all their glory, are the Devastatin' Dave products.

Research.

As part of my "ongoing" gift-wish-list project, I am refining and adding items at a steady rate. The problem I now have, is that each item I add requires so much research.....

Take for instance......

There are a bunch of camera accessories that go neatly with my new camera. Half of them haven't, as of yet, made it anywhere near the shops except in Japan. The ones that I can find on the internet (knowing fully that they won't be stocked in any high street stores for a long time after they appear all over the internet) are so badly listed (i.e. ambiguously, they may or may not be the correct item) and are so bloody overpriced that I feel forced to spend endless hours over-monitoring the situation, so that I may notice when they finally land at a reasonable and affordable price.

And so...... What do I find as some sort of conclusion?

Lens LC55 = £69
Lens LC55 = £29 (If you live in America)

Lens LT55 = £160
Lens LT55 = £83 (if you live in America)

Battery S006a = £45
Battery S006a = £19 (If you live in America)

And so it goes on....... Most frustrating.

What annoys me most about the findings above, is that I am loathed to add these items to my "most wanted" list on the basis that I know that the items could be bought cheaper by someone resident in the US of A than anyone else. I feel like I might be doing any potential benefactors out of pocket somehow. On that basis, I feel I am possibly missing out.

The other piece of research I've been doing concerns my ever painful heel..... Joking apart, we all know it's as well to Google your own illness than it is to hang around in a doctor's waiting room with lots of poorly people and for the GP to Google it on your behalf. I Google.....

It transpires, I think I may well be suffering from plantar fasciitis. It sounds about right, and also sounds pretty bloody annoyingly tricky to deal with. Still not sure whether to go to the doc's armed with this information or not?

Another week.....

... another episode of The Mighty Boosh.

... the chickens retire to their dwelling earlier than ever (somewhere around the four o' clock mark).

... The penultimate day of "I'm a celebrity, get me out of here!" and I haven't even written about it, although I've watched more of it than I'd care to mention or indeed remember.

Most importantly, I am on the evening of the start of the final week of chicken husbandry. The folks return one week tomorrow!! Hen shit, cat puke, cat food, cat hair, feathers, all begin to fade into the distance. The remaining time spent dealing with the animals and multiple residency is now just a bite size chunk.

Thirty one days and counting down... the end is in sight.

Mistake.

It's a mistake. I am writing this blog in the Firefox browser, and I know from cold, hard experience, that not all the usual features are present in this browser that I am accustomed to when using Internet Exploder. I know for example before I even begin, that I will not be able to underline the very title at the top of this blog entry!! Go figure!! So, bear with me, I'll be writing it and then subsequently fine tinkering it in Exploder when it will be bothered to load.

So, I'm sitting here, and the embers of the coal fire are trickling through the grate into the fireplace below. I'm drinking Yorkshire Terrier (no jokes please... it's a beer!!) and debating whether to bank the fire back up to keep the warmth going, or to call it a day and head up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire!! It's a quandary, and now I notice that for some reason Firefox is bloody "spell checking" my typing for me, above and beyond the blogger spell checker. Grrrr.

So, I am sitting here.....

So, I am sitting here, drinking the last bit of Yorkshire Terrier, and the fire is made up and is crackling away merrily behind me. I've been working on a new concept... well a concept that's new to me at least, and it's one which is dear to my heart..... Join me, and (I seem to remember Rol at least having trouble with rubbish gifts from relatives) banish the crap gift syndrome...

I now have a Christmas wish-list. You can view it here, and of course, you may buy any of the items on the list for me, and I won't be forced to speak ill of you behind your back on Boxing Day when your ill conceived gift has gone down like a lead balloon.

I urge everyone to choose their own gifts, and subsequently this should cut down the amount of indiscriminately wasted money on Christmas impulsive useless gift purchasing.

The chickens are in bed. The cats are draped over every piece of furniture that I have not actively knocked them down from. Just a week and a bit left before the folks return and I will be free from my life of servitude.

Time to go wipe down the Rayburn and disinfect some sideboards and tuck the washing up away before I settle down to some Kakuro!

Twenty eight days later.

It's been a fairly busy few days. I've not even had chance to write a half decent blog, and that's very unusual for me. I've normally got time to write a VERY half decent blog!!

So here it is.... my half decent blog.

The chickens are happy. They've been enjoying a relatively mild couple of days. Plenty of opportunity to go rotting round the fields, scratching and scraping and pecking at everything. The days are quite short, with the sun setting at around four in the afternoon, and the SON rising at anywhere between nine and eleven in the morning as he sees fit. They are making the most of the time they get outside.

The cats are not so happy. My mum's soppy cat loving regime is now a distant memory for them. The cats now live by MY rules, except for the puking, which I, unfortunately, cannot control.

The folks, in Australia, are having a good time of it. Lots of beaches... Lots of rain.... and LOTS of insect bites. Sounds like my idea of heaven... NOT! I can't imagine why anyone would actively CHOOSE to be there.

I've been to York!! It was nicer than Australia, because you can get there on a train for a fraction of the cost of a long haul flight. You don't need a passport. You don't need traveller's cheques or currency exchange to get by. You can walk all the way around it, even with a knackered heel, and all in the space of a day, and you can still be home in time for tea. I, on the other hand, chose to have tea in York.

The beer is INFINITELY better in York than anywhere in Australia too. York Brewery's Guzzler and Yorkshire Terrier being two very worthy pints.

Searching....

I've been a little busy over the last few days, and will endeavour to tell you about it as the week goes along, but for now..........

I guess this is getting a little long in the tooth now, but for whatever it is worth, here are some more search terms that brought people in.

who do Arctic foxes communicate with (Google)
Anyone that will sit still for five minutes and listen. In fact, you... right now... reading this.... you're being communicated!!

tom pitchforth (Google)
Haw haw, someone Google'd my cousin... I bet it was him, and he was googling himself!! You're so vain.... I bet you think this blog is about you....

llamatron atari (Google)
Possibly the best game I ever played, written by one of the coolest people ever to have lived. Jeff Minter AKA Yak.... I spent so many hours playing Llamatron, it's obscene. You can find the Yak here. You can even download a lot of the games too. Don't ever say I don't give you anything!!

"chewing ecstasy" (Google)
If you're gonna insist on taking it, then I won't tell you not to. I WILL however tell you that: If you don't chew it, then it will take longer to "come on". Me, personally, when I have taken it, I have ALWAYS chewed it, and I always get ulcers and blisters in my mouth and toothache afterwards, but I am not still winging my nuts off when I get home 'cos it's pretty much all kicked in and there are no late night surprises to be had when that last tab floors you on the train home.

"sky+ default pin" (Google)
I've been there, and I've hung on the phone for a couple of hours to get through to some idiot in a call centre. I've locked myself out a few times, and I've even deleted perfectly good recordings when I couldn't access them because a PIN code was required. I can now reveal, and I've said this before, that the "default" PIN code, is the last four digits of your sky viewing card number!! Job done. PS: If you're a small child looking for this information to access your parent's stash of porn on their Sky+ machine and need the PIN to get in, then you ain't seen me, right?

egears.co.uk (Google)
egears (Google)
egears problems (Google)
www.egears.co.uk (Google)
egears.co.uk review (Google)
"egears.co.uk" shopping experience (Google)
egears uk phone number (Google)
egears + problems (Google)
"www.egears.co.uk" (Google)
who are egears (Google)
egears uk problems (Google)
anyone used www.egears.co.uk (Google)
egears feedback (Google)
EGEARS UK (Google)
who is egears (Google)
who are egears.co.uk (Google)
ordering from egears (Google)
egears blog (Google)
Well, what would my Sunday Searches be without the inclusion of an EGears rant? Believe it or not, these are all search terms that people have used to find my blog. I can only say, that if you are thinking of using EGears, then don't bother. If you've already used them then I suggest you contact them and ask for your money back. You can get the same items from any number of other places, and with a lot less hassle.

susie blackpool (Google)
suzie blackpool (Google)
slutsuzie (Yahoo)
slutsuzie (Google)
suzie of blackpool (Google)
slut suzie blackpool (Google)
Another multiple entry (pardon the obvious pun) for our old friend, the Blackpool Slut that used to have a blog. As far as I know, her blog died a long time ago. I've tried on several occasions to find some way of pointing these people in the right direction, but the best I can do is link to an apparent email address.... this may or may not be correct, but it's the best I can find: slutsuzieuk@hotmail.co.uk

house sitting yorkshire (Google)
Yep, that's me. If you've got cat puke that needs cleaning up or chickens you want to lose, or a house that you'd generally like to be abused and/or neglected while you are away on holiday, then leave me a message and we can work out some sort of deal. Thanks for looking.

giant chicken or fox inflatables (Google)
Well, at first I was just going to regurgitate the old link to the rubber fox suit, but it's not something I would take too much pleasure from. Perhaps you could try looking here... they have some bloody mad stuff.... mebbe amongst the madness you will find the inflatable of your dreams.

effects of cold on laptop (Google)
1) Your fingers may feel cold when typing.
2) Your laptop may be shivering.
3) The laptop may collapse.
4) Your laptop may seem irrational (ignore if Microsoft products are installed).

Twenty four.

I must write something, I know that I oughta,
But these past few days I've just been treading water.
The words won't come because there have been no actions,
No highs and no lows, nor between them no fractions.

Watch The Mighty Boosh.... It's good for your soul.

Short and sweet.

Day twenty three came and went in an unremarkable fashion.

Cats.

Chickens.

A film.

Some television.

Cats

Chickens.

Shopping.

Cooking spicy chickpea and potatoes.

Eating.

Television.

Bath.

Bed.

It's all right there..... I never know which house I will wake up in, but I am usually unsurprised to find it is the same one I went to sleep in!!