
These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Tesco daily photo #3
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Exclusions and terms and conditions apply
Indisputable photographic evidence of something.
Dear Mrs Anabelle Goldie,
I am writing to you as I consider you to be a sensible and mostly straight up person and an all round good egg. I now have proof that snow is truly demonic and I wanted you to know, it could not have existed in the Garden of Eden and was brought into this world by the unfortunate "fall of man" approximately 5050 years ago or so. Above is a small part of photographic evidence I am putting together to form a comprehensive dossier on the unsavoury and antisocial behaviour of this supernatural and frankly bloody freezing substance. This (eventually buff coloured) dossier will be passed onto the (strangely quiet at the moment) so-called Scottish Government so that they can take proper action against this illegal frozen H2O - namely the phantom menace that is snow. Hopefully the full force of the law will come down upon said menace and it will be banned from these fair shores etc. etc.
Yours in anticipation,
Cardinal Sir John Knox of Bathgate.

Polis stopping traffic and chatting to punters, £60m or thereabouts was also lost to the economy at the same time - strange or what? (Note closed bridge thing not far away).
After 42 years on uneventful events the great bridge was closed today totally severing cultural links with the Kingdom of Fife (temporarily). For 12 long hours we teetered on the brink of complete collapse, anarchy and no pies from that posh farm in Puddledub until they got their act together and arranged for the 42 year old Lada snow plow to be fixed up at Tom Farmers in the "Toon", whit a relief! The Queen will be making a statement shortly.
Snowplough over the speed bumps
Frozen waste.
No exit, no entry, no escape.
Today will go down in mankind's and West Lothian's battered history as the day when everything stopped (and it's only 12:10). The full fury of a long frustrated ice-age has settled upon us, it's anger at the over exaggeration of global warming building up for months, now we shall choke, freeze and stick like ice to a shovel to our broken roads and un-cut in bus stops. So in a climate fight what would win; relentless, sizzling global warming or the stinging deep freeze of a new and poison ice-age?
The cats are not dealing with the snow very well. It's as if their universe has collapsed and they are trapped in the confines of the house with no proper access to their beloved fields and woodland. They sit in curious crouched positions, eyes staring, drooling, peering through the dim gap of the cat flap looking out into a new, foreign, white and inhospitable world, a world too deep with snow for any kid of basic or serious cat manoeuvres. They have cat cabin fever and will shortly need appropriate and possibly expensive counseling. Your financial contributions towards alleviating this difficult feline situation would be very much appreciated.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Other worlds

Explorer 1
There are other worlds, many other worlds out there in the ether. All close enough to be touched, to be explored and to remain within your grasp and completely visible if you really want to see them. Depends how far you take things and how elastic your imagination is.
As a child I was amazed at how the nose cone of XL5 could detach from the main body of the spaceship and operate like an atmosphere craft or shuttle. The design still acts like some strange bridge between H G Wells and Star Trek in imagined technology. This was 1963 and I was getting my appendix removed.
Monday, November 29, 2010
More depraved works of fiction
A tree or possibly more, forgotten in a field.
OK; you add smoothie to yogurt, not the other way around. The remains may require rapid spooning for maximum enjoyment and nourishment.
If only I could find some of the late and lost Picasso's lost works under the bed, in the loft, in the glove compartment or maybe at the bottom of my briefcase. Perhaps left in a battered carpet bag by a wheelie bin that I then happen to come across or in the wardrobe of a cheap hotel. Maybe by the ticket machine at a badly surfaced local authority car park, or deep in the freezer section at ASDA besides Aunt Bessie's' Yorkshire puddings. In a duffel bag bought in a pawn shop or charity shop or just sitting there, wrapped in newspaper like a 70's bulky fish supper on the parcel shelf on a red and white bus to Tulllibody. In a cardboard tube, rolled up with a Postman's band and popped through our letter box while we are out walking a borrowed Labrador in deep and unseasonal snow. Finally one of the cats (not sure which one) thunders through the cat flap carrying some rolled up parchment or thick artist's paper, turns out it's a developmental sketch done by the great man and buried our garden, the cat recognised his style and signature just as he (?) was about to take a cat-pee. Nice.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Pub tea
Obvious snowy car photo.
Obvious snowy tree photo.
On our return to the ice-house the feuding cats were now at peace, Second Life was being seconded into Third Life (where virtual people build alternative lives on real laptops) and Strictly X-Factor come Jungle was rapidly replaced by an episode of Bones or something similar on Sky 1. The thaw and a brave new dawn is just around the corner according to the Second Life Facebook Met Office.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Doctor Blog
Another kind of pear - as imagined by a local artist.
Served today by his Royal Highness the manager of Tesco EH30 who was proudly wearing his manager's badge. "Why don't you employ more people on the checkouts?" I asked. He didn't give me a straight answer, "I often work on the checkout when we we're busy". You have to ask yourself what kind of organisation allows the manager to work on checkouts wearing a dumb badge and a pink tie? I did however refrain from questioning his management style and moved the conversation on by telling him that most DVDs and Lego in the store were cheaper than their counterparts on Amazon, (I think). Not that I'm a good price geek...
Dr Who, Dr Prog, Dr Blog...I'm seeing a pattern here.
Snow news day
Snow celebrations. Photo by remote CBQ.
Well worn car looking almost clean thanks to the application of a convenient blizzard.
Eventually it came to the point where the sky could hold no more snow, we were seated in the warmth and comfort of the Dakota at this critical moment, in the company of the illustrious Mr & Mrs CBQ. My Cornish sardines were by now a distant memory as the frozen material continued to fall, as ever regardless of our outstanding travel plans and hopes for the weekend. Next day our trip to the frozen north was cancelled when we ran out of stamina but applied good sense and consumed pancakes at Kinross. That was pretty much that as they say.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Nice pair

His n' hers: Predictable.
I'm drinking more than my fair share of pouring yogurt or am I pouring more than my fair share of drinking yogurt? As usual I can't think straight or even perpendicularly, a great word to use from time to time. "Pour on the nutritious goodness" it says on the carton, illustrated by a glowing spoon and translucent berries and cereal type accessories. It is also satisfying and has a fantastic pouting but more likely pouring texture apparently, "ahh Danone!" all the good people chirp. Not sure about you but I'm up for a taxi to the Dakota, easy on the scallops.
Opinions and Quiz. Anyway which one was/is better Judee Sill, Judy Tzuke or Judy Collins and which one was immortalised by HMHB?
There are questions in corners of my mind that lurk
like how do the road gritters get to work
answer me that and you could win a cruise
Here's Judie Tzuke to take us up to the News
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
M40

Top things today:
Emma's Spagbol reheated in the microwave.
Strangely nippy and likable Peugeot 207.
Against all the odds a Costa latte that I enjoyed and finished.
4 eggs, two sausages.
A clear ariel view of England and Scotland all the way home thanks to no clouds.
A snooze.
Potential snow and winter weather, (better to learn to love it and live with it I suppose).
Monday, November 22, 2010
Never had it...

A small piece of roast beef stuck somewhere in my top teeth.
The need to find a donor car to provide a catalytic converter for Mr Cougar.
The lifting of the humiliating feeling of falling on my fat bum in mud at the football while deftly trying to trap a ball and failing spectacularly.
The small matter of repairing the frazzled Irish economy - help is at hand from a team of experts being released by our national disgrace RBS however.
Not looking forward to some sustained up and coming Flybe new and miserable experiences.
Once these minor irritations evaporate, it'll all be good.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Cranberry Diaries
Friday, November 19, 2010
Free Kirk

“The fact that a corrupt tree can bear good fruit is a truth that religious traditionalists find hard to accept, just as strong atheists find it difficult to admit that the corrupt tree of religion can at times produce beautiful fruit. Everything that we have achieved of any worth or beauty has emerged from the harsh soil of nature.” Richard Holloway.
Listening to god and all that.
The men in authority who will always take charge of any religion once it has established itself are suspicious of people who claim to hear the divine voice; the kind of people who in fact get religions going in the first place. That is why leaders who take over a faith always close down the “community radio” and replace it with an officially written version of the divine encounter, a book. The main advantage of this is that it gives them much more control over their followers than would have been possible had they been allowed to tune directly into the voice of god. That line has been disconnected for centuries it seems…
…but listen and take heart, in the deep darkness and the all consuming loneliness of the universe there is a voice, there and gone, here and distant. From the stars to the inner reaches of the soul, it speaks, it murmurs, it calls but few listen, fewer understand and it seems none obey. If we consider ourselves lost we are not just where we are, we are where we have placed ourselves, by the single, stupid and irresponsible act of not listening. In another separate, exciting development the Free Kirk have voted that you can sing to god (in his general direction anyway) or even play a musical instrument of some sort (provided that it‘s not an accordion), turns out that he doesn’t mind music and hollering after all. Who says that god is inflexible and set in his/her ways?
Sunburst Les Paul in an Edinburgh junk shop for £5.00, one broken machine head. The year is 1971.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Lunch

Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Alcohol

Tuesday, November 16, 2010
41 years

Monday, November 15, 2010
Dull as a new phone

I have never before written about my cobbles obsession, so this is a first, an ode if you will to the lovely, stony cold cobbles and their parking markings, painted on irreverently by the people from the council who we assume know what they are doing. It seems though that someone else needs to champion the cobbles.
Now that I've written about the cobble thing I need never mention it again. Job done.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)