time for a large erection.

Wife has ran off to French France for a week.

I just thought that if I had gone on the school trip from Saturday to Wednesday, I would have come back in time for my wife to leave.

Thursday was warm so I headed off to homebase and wickes to pick up some man ingredients to try to repair the damage that the winter winds had made to the Rose arbour.

Sadly the wind combined with the fact that the top heavy plants had weakened the rusting iron supports and keeled over ever so slightly in some places and snapped completely in others.

Invested in some serious spikes and posts and went to work.

At some stage I will actually have to cut the rest of the metal work out but for now I just thought....build round it.

 

 

Not necessarily a thing of great beauty but functional. might get the little uns to throw some green wood stain at it to make it blend in a bit more.

 

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How can you lose a plane?

Flight MH370 under the command of Captain Shah has been missing for almost a month.

In a world full of in flight technology and satelites covering every inch of the planet it is like a scenario from Lost. I suppose all satelites are trained on the Crimea as we speak and have less interest in their cycles over the Indian Ocean.

The lack of information has led to a myriad of press based stories all with a hint of technical possibility but never the less theory as to the alleged intentions of the to the possibility of rapid engine failure.

The black box, which is in fact orange, and all the other technology has failed to reveal the whereabouts of the airplane.

If/when the plane is found, the truth may never be fully known.

Meanwhile the media machine will constinue to spout theory after theory in the absence of fact.

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The Selfie.

From the original box brownie camera to the leaps and bounds made by Kodak developing film to the rapid advance in technology which means that every piece of technology from your phone to your food blender is capable of taking a picture.

Cameras have become digital, resolution is up to super-mega pixels so that we can take hundreds of pictures a day and send them round the world in seconds.

And now all of this advances in technology has left us with is the selfie.

The Selfie.

A photo you rake of yourself. Either by holding it at arms length and pointing it in your general direction, usually at a jaunty angle or by using a mirror in a dimly lit room to show your reflection.

Even Kim "please no publicity" Kardashian takes a selfie for more self promotion.

Even in public. Let's get friends to join in.

The Selfie is an act of class by a classy person as the fine example of womanhood, Nikki Minge.....or whatever her name is shows us here. I am impressed that Nikki shows us here an arse of planet like proportion and enjoys sharing it with the world.....or is it just a pathetic advert for her own brand of iPhone covers. Self publicity? Pan!

The selfie should of course be tasteful and artistic and not show a lack of class in any way.

Since celebrities support the selfless act of selfies shared with the world through the plethora of social media, it is only right that their devoted followers should follow their example of their beloved idols. Here, Justin Bieber shows his...errr...manly pecs and love of gaudy underwear and a worrying inability to tie his own trousers properly.

What next? ....celebrity selfies in onesies?

....damnit.....there's a website already...thank you 1D.

....and you wonder why the Chineese are raking over the world.

Help!

 

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On a dark and stormy night.

The worst storm in living memory had stopped just as Johns light blue Vauxhall Vectra pulled into the moonlit drive. The windscreen wipers shrieked against the glass letting everyone within earshot know that their services were no longer needed.

A gentle hiss came from the mud splattered engine as his brown loafers tentatively slipped into the shallow puddle by the car. "Damn!" He said to himself as he saw that the absense of illumination from the front porch security light. No power! He slammed the door with a little more force than he should have and moved slowly towards the feint image of the doorway.

His right hand fumbled through the many keys on his key chain and he found the right one on the third attempt.

He moved inside into the house and closed the door behind him. The hallway was cold and uninviting.

His breath formed small jet streams in the air in front of him as he exhaled.

He moved forward, feeling his way round the memory of what the room should be like trying to find his way to the kitchen and that cold beer he had promised himself all the way home.

His hands struck pay dirt too early as his right hand hit the open fridge door. "I guess that beer won't be as cold as I'd dreamed of." He thought to himself as he screwed off the top and threw it into the corner of the kitchen in the general direction of the bin.

He glugged back the first few swallows and his senses tingled as an unexpected aroma came to tease the hairs inside his nostrils. He moved towards the cellar door and the stairs that led down to a darkness that he didn't want to visit.

The door creaked as it opened grudgingly, revealing a pungent aroma that made him wretch. He turned his head away and covered his mouth quickly with the back of his hand and that was when he heard it.

A low whistling sound, just on the edge of his hearing.

He moved closer, taking small steps to delay his progress.

The whistling sound stopped and his heart relaxed and started to beat with what he thought was a normal rhythm.

he stood back to close the door when the noise started again, this time louder and with a harshness that made it uncomfortable to the ear.

He turned and made his way slowly inside the cellar, moving his feet slowly down onto each step in turn like a blind man feeling his way.

It took him what seemed like a lifetime to reach the bottom of the stairs but as he reached the bottom he found that the stench was almost unbearable.

The noise stopped!

He stood listening to the sound of his heart pounding in the darkness.

Then, he heard the sound of a match erupting into life as light flooded into the cellar.

Before he could turn, an icy voice chilled him to his very soul.

"Hello! I am the cheese goblin and it's time for you to pay your debts."

 

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excuse me doctor, I'm having a bit of trouble with my cock!

I knew it would happen.

Having got chicken lady to "guarantee" that the baby chicks that came out of the incubator were ladies and so would give us blue eggs....we knew it couldn't go to plan.

One past away 48 hours later and Beyonce and Eva turned out to be.....well...cockrels.

And being cockrels eventually they will turn on you. Not in a "don't touch my biatches" kind of way...just a mental....I don't care how big you are, I'm going to have a go kind of way.

Sadly I was out in a pair of shorts and flip flops, so was not in ideal cockrel fighting garb. sadly for the afore mentioned cockrel, I was carrying a large plastic laundry basket. Used defensively, this did not deter him from his attack.

as his intensity of attack grew, I reluctly had to wield my blue laundry basket in anger.

this did not deter him much either.

He was up for it big style and would not take " take that you foul feathered fiend" for an answer.

Sadly he has grown a big red comb and equally evil eyes since pictured here.

Sadly he has changed much since he used to sit on my shoulder and watch tv together. we watched Chelsea win the UEFA cup final together last year. how times have changed.

The time may finally have come for a parting of the ways.

 

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Author! Author!

My daughter was a more than happy little bunny at the publishing of her first book.

A Chinese meal and a glass of sparkly to celebrate

 

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Boys day out.

I'm going out.

I don't go out much. Happy flumping, moping or doing stuff about the house. We are going off to Stamford bridge today. By we I mean me and Roger, my best mate on the entire planet.

Off to see us beat the not so mighty spurs and go SEVEN points clear at the top of the league. not so bad for a little horse.

In recent times, we have gone to see us play a variety of teams. West brom was the last one and we needed a 96th minute dive from Ramirez to rescue a point. Birmingham, West Ham, Coventry, Everton, QPR, Derby, ....used to take in the occasional champions league game with Arsenal in the quarter finals, now there was a game seen from the Matthew Harding stand.

Never seen us play spurs though

Do you remember where you were when Kennedy was shot?....probably before your time....I'll bet Jackie Onasis gets fed up of being asked that one.....or where you were when you heard that Elvis had died.....and all the hugging and memories that ensued.

Do you remember where you were when this happened?

The champions league victory that NOBODY had predicted especially since we went out at the last 16 when we were 3-1 down to Napoli and Cashley cleared one off the line or we were 2-0 down to Barca at the Nou Camp.......Camp Nou....pick a name and J.T. Fancied watching the game from the changing room.

I was with Roger. Beer in hand, nervously sitting on the edge of the sofa, slumped almost horizontally when Munich took the lead, somewhere on the ceiling when Drogba arrowhead in that header and standing up, utmost unable to look when the penaltys were, or weren't going in.

Like MasterCard.........best mates....priceless.

 

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