Showing posts with label writer's diary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer's diary. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Dear Diary 1

Brecon, or more specifically the street where I live, is a place of Policing anomalies. 

On Sunday, a pupil from the local private school dials 999 with a hoax call to the Police saying he can hear gun shots in the boarding houses where he lives. He looked very surprised indeed when the Rapid Response Unit arrived 10 minutes later, kicked the doors down and stormed the house with very powerful hand guns and semi automatics and did a systematic sweep of every room.

Eventually they found the bored little rich brat sitting on his bed with his mouth gaping and flapping open and closed like a freshly landed guppy on the river bank; his phone still in his hand and was apparently peeing fear like a cart horse.

He pleaded mitigating circumstances and named them as: too much alcohol and the fact that he was bored. He was asked that if he should fail to mention anything now that may help in his case, then everything else would be used against him. Sadly in the state od deep shock he was in he plain forgot to mention that Daddykins and the Home Secretary share the same London club.

And that probably why the Police dragged the over privileged, over pampered and under educated little Lord Foltneroy off to the local nick to have his manicured finger tips recorded, his mug shots taken and his silver spoon removed from his mouth and impounded until further notice.

Next day the CID send a truck load of officers on a door to door search for a stolen pair of mens' underwear, because a resident had reported them missing and would quite like them back. He even furnished the officers with a recent photo and an artist impression of the underpants.

God I love this town.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Planning on getting rid of the spiders

For a while now I've been living my odd little existence on Facelessbook and now I'm moving it to a more natural home, here, my blog which is filled with my oddball tales and thoughts; if nothing else it makes for more posts and insights into my eccentric mind, which I'm not sure is a good or bad thing.

So the little tale below is about the constant battles I have with the spiders in my house.
 
Those regular readers of my Facelessbook witterings will know of my issues with them, of how they rule my fears, pinch my car keys and in one particular case, drink my whiskey, but now I'm here to say the battle has finally gone legal.


Okay, so here's how it happened: out in my back room I have always had spiders webs. I don't mind them out there as they catch a lot of unwanted flies and they don't seem that interested in chasing me around the rest of my property; so as far as you can have a good spider, these are good spiders.


But lately they've been taking liberties.


The little eight legged hairy freaks have started extending their webs, webs that have historically been of a one story structure now have moved into palatial two or tree story web mansions! Some even have car-ports, summer houses and a swimming pool!


I've contacted the council and they've come along to have a look. They've taken copious amounts of notes, had meeting, sub meetings, committee meetings and audit meetings that have gone on into the night. And today I am happy to announce I received their final decision, and this is it:


Whereas they are aware that you don't need planning permission to build a web you do if that web exceeds one whole third of its original structure, and seeing as it has grown, in some cases by over five times, then they (the council) have no option but to order the removal of all illegal sections of the web; to include all out structures, swimming pools, jacuzzi houses saunas and in the case of the seedier parts of my back room; brothels.


I took the order in to show the spiders today with the self satisfied smirk of one who had used the legal system to his advantage. Most of the spiders just scoffed at the legal document while at least three of them took a run at me.


I, naturally, ran off screaming like a big girlie and am now writing this post within the confines on my electric spider fence.


On a further note, I've been asked by someone what kind of spiders they are? I said I wasn't too sure but I had heard the one calling the other Norris if that would help. I've yet to hear back from him

The war continues.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

My Diary---week ending 26th June 2013




Once again we delve into my weird Facelessbook Ramblings; I've also added some Twitter twaddle to, and a comic strip at the end...

Enjoy!





June 22
Just been driving through Llyswen, a little village outside Brecon, when I saw a group of pensioners being bundled into the back of a transit van; seriously, I thought, OAP trafficking...surely not?!


*********************************

I just came in from hanging the washing out when I heard a faint squeaking sound, coming from somewhere near my feet. I looked, saw nothing and turned to move away when I heard the sound again. I turned and looked more closely. But still I found nothing.
It was only when I heard it a third time that I got more than a little concerned. Was it a little vole or mouse lost and frightened. Had an abandoned baby bird got caught in the undergrowth?
I moved closer with scrutiny etched on my worried features and as I did so I heard the squeaking sound again and it definitely came from around my feet. And as I bent down lower I saw a tiny hole in my trainers and every time I moved it sent a little pocket of wheezing, bubbling air out of my shoe making a little squeaking sound.
That's my Saturday, hows yours been?

***********************************

Well its summer time so Sky have put a Little House on the Prairie Christmas special on.
Something worth noting: the kids opened their presents and went whacko over a shiny new penny and a pair of mittens...lets all try that this year and see how far our kids let us get with a happy Christmas.

June 23

Okay, update on the whole 'Little House on the Prairie' thing. A warring Indian has just come into their cabin house with an interpreter. He says he will speak for the chief. The chief says: 
"Horo mon happ"
The interpretor says:
Big Chief Featherinhiscap say: he is proud warrior chief of the grazing lands of great buffalo of ancestors. He say many years he wandered over the snow capped mountains of the forefathers and many a battle he has had with the long knives and yellow beards, and pipe of peace smoked with fork tongues but now it is time to settle, now it is time to join his kin in the reservations, now it is time for peace" And I think he even chucked a 'How' in at the end...
I was just looking open mouthed thinking: if he got all that from; 'Horo mon happ' I can only guess that the Apache translation of Lord of the Rings is like about 16 pages long, and that’s with the 'bit about the author'

June 24

Stumbled out of my bedroom this morning to find my car keys on the landing---they must've fallen out of my pocket on the way to bed last night.
But the weird thing was a spider had attached a strand of web to them and appeared to be trying to drag the keys off.
Now I don't like spiders, and as a rule when I see them I either scream like a girlie or beat them with unholy and disproportionate force, but the sight of one trying to have it away with my car keys is not something you see everyday, so I watched a little longer.
After ten minutes I was still not sure what it was trying to do or even if its intentions were to get to my car, and with the aid of a few more delinquent spiders, go for a joy ride: my estimate would be the'd need at least six. Two to steer, three to operate the pedals and one with a very strong thread to shift the gears.
I watched for another five minutes, got board, used unholy and disproportionate force on him and buggered off down stairs to soak my cornflakes.
I haven't checked the car yet to see if the others were already in place--- and just waiting for the keys--- but now I think of it, they may have got tired of waiting and just hot wired my car. I'm just worried that my car may have been stolen by five spiders and how I'm going to explain that one to the police.

June 26

Just found out I've got Tennis Elbow in Wimbledon fortnight...the irony is not lost on me...Mind you I was also diagnosed with Beer Drinkers' Elbow at the Munich Beer Festival

Random Twitter Twaddle:

'I've got an eye test tomorrow; I just know I'm going to be up all night cramming for it.'

'When relief comes into your life it is transitory, when frustration arrives it brings suitcases and takes over the left wing of your mind'

'Things not to say to a customs official: Is this a gun in my pocket or am I just happy to see you. I still can't walk straight'

'What is food for thought? I'm having a cheese sandwich, but I have to admit I'm not getting any great ideas just yet. Perhaps it needs mayo'

'Further to my last tweet: What is 'food for thought' and does it come with a low fat option?'

'I'm off to bed to see if my dreams are any weirder than the one last night. That involved a black nurse a 4 inch guy and a butter-nut squash'

'Its free comic day today. Apparently no one told Forbidden Planet this and they chased me for three blocks before getting their comic back'

'If love is blind how come you can't get a disability allowance for it?'


If I have another odd week---which lets face it is a distinct possibility---I'll do more of these next week...Oh and I thought I'd throw a random comic strip in just for the hell of it!

I'm so good to you.




If you like my blog and the things that I say and do, please tell your friends; mention me on Facebook, Twitter and any of the other fine social media networking sites you use. I would love to have my work reach a much larger audience and although I could no doubt eventually get there under my own steam, I'll get there a lot quicker with your help, so please, please spread the word.

Thank you

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

My Diary week ending 12 June 2013

As promised, here's last weeks babbling's and ramblings from my Facelessbook week.
Enjoy!

June 6

Today I woke up with 'experiment time' emblazoned upon my minds eye. I didn't know what I was going to experiment with or upon, but as soon as I opened the fridge I suddenly knew.

Experiment 1: Drink large amounts of Pepsi, wait for the burp and just as it arrives close your mouth and stifle it...it burns bubbles through your nose, which is kind of cool and pleasantly painful. Not 50 Shades of Grey pleasantly painful, but well worth repeating kind of painful.

Experiment 2: An experiment from my childhood: who can remember licking the top of a battery and getting a tingly shock and wanting to do it again?

Well I'm here to say that that is all well and good and relatively harmless fun at that, and indulge all you wish to indulge, but please don't take it further like I did and try it out on a tractor battery; you end up in the next field with black fingernails, a sizzling tongue, your fillings start to bubble and your hair smouldering. You also have a silly half conscious grin on your face.


Well that's my experiments done for the day, now I'm off to get a life.


**********************

No word of a lie.

I'm walking home when I see five---count them---five council workers standing around, nodding their heads in a sage like fashion at the same spot in the road. 
At this point I can't see what has so captivated their collective imaginations as it is obscured by the three long wheel base transit vans and the council works lorry.

When I get level with them I see that they have cut a cylinder of tarmac out of the road, nothing else, just a simple cylinder of tarmac, and they are studying it as intently as and polar scientist would study an ice core sample for signs of early Mastodons; who knows, maybe that's what they were doing, maybe they were looking for proof of the existence of Neolithic Council Man: perhaps they had found an ancient strip of a Sabre-Tooted hi-vis jacket.

Anyway I carry on past them making a mental note to scrutinise my pole tax form more closely in the future, and go inside my house. Twenty minutes later and they are still out there, standing around, only now they have two core samples of tarmac and seem no closer to solving the conundrum that obviously has them in such a quandary.

An hour later I go to pick up my daughter and they have gone. The trucks have left, the signs saying: 'Warning; Council men in a quandary' has been removed and all that's left are the two cores samples, now put back in the ground; and in the wrong holes at that. How can I tell? Simple, the one with the yellow line going through it is now in the middle of the road.

Anyone got any ideas what the hell they were up to?

June 7

Oh hell! I put a beer in the freezer to make it nice and cold for tonight and forgot to get it out...
Beer ice lolly anyone?"

June 8

This morning it was business as normal for my odd world: when I grabbed the quilt and shook it, I forgot my phone and glasses were buried deep within its unruly folds, I also forgot the window was open. And in a scene that was both worthy of a black and white classic and a master class of trajectory and physics, out they both flew, out through the open window and into the great unkempt wilderness that is my back garden, followed by my open mouthed gaze of horror.

It took me a good deal of time to find them as a magpie had taken my glasses to his nest and was working on 7 across ---a noteworthy promontory of ubiquitous fortune--- from the Times crossword,  and my phone has now gone over its monthly text limit due to an unruly pack of centipedes texting their cousins in Brasil weird photos and using the word 'lol' and 'YOLO' to excessive amounts.

Is it only me this kind of stuff happens to?

*******************************

So you probably realise I can't go anywhere without something happening to me and today is no different.

The Brecon Beacons were full of walkers and I was on my way down and just happened to be engulfed in a party of twenty or so blokes, none if which I knew. When coming up toward us were three young girls, one of them was constructed out of all decent proportion in the chestular area and her lungs where in direct relation and volume to her build.

So just as we all drew level with her she suddenly announced, and at the top of her inconsiderable lung capacity, that: 'Oh my god, this top is hopeless, my boobs nearly popped out'

All I can say is that first thing on Monday morning twenty or so doctors will be consulted about suspected whiplash.

***********************************

On my way home last night a car full of tanked up youngsters asked me for directions to the Epynt range---an army training area that is also used for rallying---I gave them directions and asked if there was a rally on, the driver said "Dunno we're going for the doggin' and they drove off.

Its not often I'm left speechless...

June 9

Just heard my first complaint about it being too hot today. I stated to the person in the shop that you can never be too thin, too rich or too hot. She disagreed vehemently with me and there we stood, toe to toe, like two verbal gladiators in the Roman coliseum.

The discussion fluctuated between my arguments for and her protestations to the contrary.
Eventually we thrashed out a statement we can both live with and it goes as follows:
'You can never be too thin, too rich or too hot unless you fall into a deep fat fryer...then you are allowed to complain about it being a smidgen on the testy side'

If only governments were as reasonable the world would, I feel, be a happier place...though with possibly with less deep fat fryers.

June 11

Well today has been a perfectly normal day. Nothing odd has happened. Well nothing too out of the ordinary: a fly watching me draw is normal right? Then having the fly follow me to have dinner, nothing abnormal there right? Then have the fly beg for scraps and me feed it. That's perfectly normal right? Okay so its been a perfectly normal day for ME.

***************************************

All penciled and ready to be inked in the morning...wouldn't it be nice to have the shoemaker's elves do the whole page in the night...I'll leave porridge out just in case...the little dears will do anything for porridge...or so I've been told




























Note: The elves didn't turn up and the porridge went cold although I did eat it as I was frustrated and I like porridge.


If you like my blog and the things that I say and do, please tell your friends; mention me on Facebook, Twitter and any of the other fine social media networking sites you use. I would love to have my work reach a much larger audience and although I could no doubt eventually get there under my own steam, I'll get there a lot quicker with your help, so please, please spread the word.

Thank you

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