

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 ...
Sunday, February 06, 2011
34 Hours

Saturday, February 05, 2011
Late great Christmas present from the past
Thursday, February 03, 2011
Boxed set
Double Neck
1. As above, supersonic neck refit.
2. Record outstanding works of musical significance.
3. Stop leak in car floor pan.
4. Fix sunroof in car.
5. Fix air-con in car.
6. Fix bathroom ceiling.
7. Various outstanding chutney issues.
8. Book holiday.
9. Reorganise kitchen broom cupboard.
10.Many garden related things.
11. Win lottery.
12. Eat unseasonal food currently blocking up the freezer.
That'll do I think.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Taman Shud
When you google Mars Bar, photos of Marianne F turn up. Forty odd years on and the new fangled web and old but magical black and white news world have long and persistent memories.
I continue to lose weight thanks to my dogged refusal eat anymore Mars Bars or one a day as was the custom round these here parts. In a daydreamy state today I calculated that if all the Mars Bars I'd ever eaten were laid end to end they would stretch all the way from Newton to St Bridget's Kirk in Dalgety Bay (via the coastal path). After 56 years enough is therefore enough and I will no longer tread the long and winding chocolate path between here (or there) and the birthplace of Bridget the famous Fife midget. My diet is therefore safe for the time being as I cling to the wreckage of this inspiring and slightly worrying vision.

Meanwhile, the hidden codes of Taman Shud or Shad or Shod and the radioactive death haunt me like any good mystery should.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells

Monday, January 31, 2011
Thought collections

Any similarity between these fish and the silver ones on a slab in a fish shop is purely coincidental as these fish were hand crafted on paper and brought to life by crayon and pencil by various incredibly talented people when in the Owlers last week.
Danelectro 12 string on which you can play many more chords than the normal 4. Depending on your talent and dexterity it may be very difficult to play if you only have 6 fingers on your left hand and even more so when you only have the regular 5 digits (that also includes thumbs and things) but don't be discouraged by apparent limitations such as these. Stretch the boundaries.
Well that's my thoughts collected.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
MRLS

Saturday, January 29, 2011
Starting the revolution
Laptop still working though the battery has now completely given up the ghost and is sending feeble, occasional, blinking messages asking for help or urgent replacement. I think not.
On a rare musical note (did this blog start out as a music blog?) Mr Gibson/Baldwin Les Paul Jr long term restoration project is undergoing a neck transplant. One delinquent neck has now been surgically removed and a replacement is eagerly awaited. Like Mr G/B I have also lost a little weight, something like 2lbs this week simply by avoiding the twin evils of chocolate and more chocolate.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Forget the sledgehammer
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sledgehammer

It appears that Gary Tank Commander (right) has joined the Kings of Leon. Good then.
The laptop saga carries on, unfortunately taking a downward slump with what appears to be a collapsing battery and relentless set of disk/disc/dusk/dosk/operating errors that try to correct themselves but never get better. The question is, disk doctor or sledgehammer. Enough to drive a man to drink smoothies and eat toast and double thick, organic marmalade.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Soup and Dolphin Bagel

Losing weight by the religious avoidance of chocolate and normal massive amounts of fried food is not as easy as it sounds. It may be the greatest test of endurance I have ever experienced as I struggle on uphill to get back downhill. The revised but punishing soup strategy however may be the answer. Yesterday I made a large pot of bubbling vegetables and pulses allowing it to settle and metamorphose (?) overnight, today I am eating it along with pickled dolphin from 1953, lightly spread across as toasted bagel. I can feel the pounds and the guilt and years of care falling away like snow in the sun sliding from a country dyke. Soon a new and lighter spring day will dawn as I use up less gravity and space within this rarefied and slimmer atmosphere. Thank you soup. Also nice to drive home in what is an acceptable attempt at daylight.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
ned ned rose

Monday, January 24, 2011
Narnia Theme Park
Buddha likes to hang out in the bushes, he still manages to see everything through closed eyes but understands very little.
Kylie Minogue set in stone and thankfully neither dancing nor gyrating. Needs to lose the headgear I reckon.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Whaley B Daily Photo
Friday, January 21, 2011
Memory
The Madcap Laughs
I now realise one of the great problems facing my generation. Memory. Ghosts and black and white footage from a guilty and misunderstood past. I’m old enough and just about lucid enough to recall the recent old world order. The last days of Empire, the fabled, pink tinged and toned Mercator Projection classroom map of the world, made of some kind of glossy cloth. Perhaps that is why I am in this perpetual state on unease, shifting my weight from foot to foot, side to side, twitching occasionally, waiting on the Royal Procession to pass and hoping for permission to carry on and put three spoonfuls of sugar in my tea. It all comes flooding back when I go to a school parents night and talk to those young and dysfunctional teachers: I get the jitters, perhaps it was that chav lady language teacher with bad teeth and complete schemey accent from Lochgelly that did it.
Three minutes thirty seconds is too long for the contents of a small tin of soup to spend in a powerful microwave.
Labour on the rampage. What a bunch of complete tossers make up the shadow cabinet now, I cannot, anywhere inside me find a kind word or thought for any of them. It’s a chronic source of disappointment to see how we (one time socialists) are represented: Milliband Vanilli, Ed Balls, Yvette Cooper, Douglas Alexander and the rest. Absolutely awful, at least it’ll be 4 years before they get a hold of anything they can properly screw up. Of course that means the others, the bloodsucking Tory vampires (not the good kind) with their toady LibDems will prevail. Oh to be in Bermuda, in a triangle, just sitting tight, to avoid the scandal.
Dundee cash machine (in a Scotmid no less) pays out double amounts of notes. A living dream in the septic city of jute, jam, pies and thirty year old grannies. Marvellous, worthy of a folk song. The bookies, drug dealers and off-licences will be rejoicing. The cash machine company director said “If people using the ATM see it as a bit of fun, so be it” and they can all keep the money. The ATM was shutdown shortly after the company were alerted. I’d love to think it was all part of an ongoing conspiracy or anarchist plot.
I don’t have any mouth ulcers at the moment but if I did I’d apply some Bonjela to those little, painful and unwelcome oral volcanoes. Oysters give you ulcers, not many people know that.
Still life with Bonjela.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Google Hook

It never occurred to me that old drums, like old guitars could be really valuable. Obvious I suppose, anything old eventually takes on some extra value…but drums kits get battered and guitars and piano just usually get played so that makes no sense. Keith Moon’s kit (or one of them that survived) is only valued at half a million dollars. I’ve never really trashed a guitar. or played one to the limit or attacked it like a drum kit, I’ve always been respectful and restrained, most times, not a naturally exuberant player. I wish I was. There’s a mental block thing that takes over that slows down thinking, playing and finding those elusive notes. They fail to connect, run together and then stray into the unfamiliar, beautiful territory that is a unique place of creation. The unique place of creation, another place I cannot find. Guarded and protected by an angel with a flashing fiery sword and an expensive guitar. In the background a sullen looking pasty faced angel taps on an old drum kit.
I don’t care about the news today. About bankers bonuses, excessive profits, huge losses, floods and disasters, what politicians are going to say in their leaked speeches, the opinions of other reporters, finance and foreign correspondents, human interest stories and what the weather was like today in the Channel Islands, Wales and the Home Counties, I’m not bothered about the price of petrol either. Sadly there is less and less on the shining flat box that we still describe as TV that engages me. Somewhere in the remote, dark blue corners there are programmes that make me laugh. Programmes hidden in the deep pools. I shall seek them out. TV needs to make people laugh more, they could show some reruns of Lady Warsi‘s speeches.
World's most expensive guitar.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
West Lothian Daily Doodle
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Irritable Tuesday Daily Photo
Top notes to write up:
Fashion (the meaning of)
Sandwiches (the fillings of)
Top 5 Neil Young songs (the best of)
Citroen C3 (the crap fuel consumption of)
Food obsessions (the understanding of).
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