Sunday, March 29, 2015

Keep taking the tablets

I am having trouble with my computer/broadband connection.
Im typing this on a borrowed tabet.

Hope to be publising soon.

George

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Here's a tip


The Number 2 was peeling off the table, but the coffee was good, and the scrambled eggs on toast: a nourishing meal for £3.50. I gave a 50p tip. I was going to say 'of course', but there's no 'of course' about it; you give a tip if you feel the service has been good - well, I do. Some people don't give tips; they reason that if they don't get tipped in their job, why should waitresses, barmaids, hairdressers get tips. When I was a college lecturer, I would occasionally get a bottle of wine, or a case of beer, at Christmas, and it made me feel good, appreciated.

There is an old story about the vagrant who stops a passer-by and says, 'Could you spare me a fiver for a cup of coffee?'

'A fiver!' exclaims the man, 'for a cup of coffee?'

The vagrant shrugs, 'Well, I like to tip.'

Now that's style.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

First sighting?


This morning I heard the unmistakable call of the lesser-spotted lawnmower. I rushed to the window, and was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a particularly fine specimen hovering over the garden across the road.

I ran upstairs to get my camera but unfortunately when I came down it had gone.

Is this, I wonder, the first sighting of this harbinger of Spring?

Time to upgrade?


I've had a text from my network supplier suggesting it's time I upgraded my phone.

Maybe they are right. Perhaps it is a good idea to keep abreast with technology. On the other hand, I think we should bear in mind that technology is for us - not us for technology, and resist being led by the nose by this wonderful human development.

It's a question of individuals choosing  what bits of technology are really useful to them.

I was thinking, what if this 'upgrading' philosoply could be applied to non-technology!

 Imagine getting a text saying 'It's time you upgraded your house? Your job?

 Or, how about 'It's time you upgraded your partner. You've had him/her for 5 years and there have been a lot of improvements since then.

It would be interesting to see the response.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

WESTMIINSTER



WESTMINSTER. The name has a certain ring to it: a paedophile ring - allegedly.

Politicians, peers, judges, senior figures of the establishment, even the Metropolitan Police - the news is full of it. Of course these are just allegations. It remains to be seen if any evidence is forthcoming. But it strikes me that if there is any truth in all of this, then maybe the role of Jimmy Saville needs to be re-evaluated.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Is this the most haunted pub in England?



NO - IT ISN'T HAUNTED AT ALL

But the picture wasn't photo-shopped or manipulated in any way - this is how it came out of the camera

Sunday



Scientists tell us that, in a few million years, the star we call our 'sun' will burn out. This will leave planet earth a barren rock, incapable of sustaining life.

But this doesn't help me to decide which shirt to wear today.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Scary, or what?


I have recently been studying the various 'conspiracy theories' surrounding the events of 9/11.

At first, I thought they were just plain daft. Could anybody seriously believe that the US government would 'mastermind' the destruction in New York on that day?

But so many people: airline pilots, scientists, demolition experts, CIA Whistle-blowers and even some politicians are putting forward all sorts of 'explanations' challenging the official account of what happened.

From what I can see, these theories range from holograms to  drones; real planes, but not piloted by jihadis to real hijackers whose intentions were known in advance by the government (or some part of it) and allowed to go on anyway.

These theories cite the 'false flag' practice, allegedly routinely carried out by security services around the world: rigging some sort of 'atrocity' and then blaming some other country.

As regards the 'hologram' theory, which sounds so far-fetched as to be laughable - it is pointed out that military technology is '50 to 100 years advanced of anything we can imagine.'

If any of these 'explanations' are true, then what are we to think? Of governments? the security services? the military? Are we so 'out of touch' with what is really going on?

If so, should we be truly afraid?






Friday, March 13, 2015

Notes from the pub (you're never alone with a notebook and pen)


Enter a couple... in their thirties. I've seen them before. They usually sit at the tall table in the middle of the pub, where she dangles her patent-leather slippered feet. This time they go to the bar. He crooks his arm around her neck, draws her to him, kisses her. I wonder, idly, if this is an office romance.

Three young girls are playing pool and drinking from bottles with straws.

I am sitting, alone, in a corner of the room.

I was served with my pint by that nice blonde barmaid. 'I like your nails'. They are two-toned, orange and black.
 'Thankyou.'

'Kroenenburg?' she had asked.
Bitter please'
'We've run out.' She'd smiled apologetically.
'I'll have a pint of Foster's'

 A colleague of mine, Billy, used to have a saying 'No wonder barmaids drown their young'. He used the phrase whenever Derek, the office-boy, made a mistake.

I like it in here. It's warm and friendly. Like William Blake's 'alehouse'.


Two very tall women walk in. They could be models, although I don't think they are.

I'm down to the last inch of my pint, and the beer is just starting to hit my legs. Shall I have another one? I don't want to go home yet.

I watch the barmaid - Sharon? Sylvie? Stella? pulling a pint, and it occurs to me that barmaids have a life outside of the pub, and these lines come into my head:

This barmaid has a life

When she goes away from here –

What d’you think she’s pulling

When she isn’t pulling beer?




Later these lines turned into this:

On the Pull

This barmaid has a life
When she goes away from here –
What d’you think she’s pulling
When she isn’t pulling beer?

Perhaps she’s pulling wool
Over unsuspecting eyes –
Perhaps she’s pulling rabbits
Out of hats – as a surprise.

Perhaps she’s pulling up her socks,
Resolving to do better –
Perhaps she’s pulling out the rug
From under from under some go-getter.

Perhaps she’s pulling ropes
To make the church bells ring –
Perhaps she’s pulling tails
On cats – the naughty thing.

Perhaps she’s pulling faces
To make her boyfriend smile –
Perhaps she’s pulling up her skirts
To climb some rustic stile.

Perhaps she’s pulling on the oars
Of rowing boat or skiff 
Perhaps she’s pulling out her gear
To roll herself a spliff.

 Perhaps she’s pulling up the weeds
To make her garden pretty –
Perhaps she’s pulling crackers
And reading jokes, so witty.
 
Perhaps she’s pulling down her blind
Before she goes to bed –
Perhaps she’s pulling out the corks
And watching wine flow red.

Perhaps she’s pulling out all stops,
Some gentleman to please –
Perhaps she’s pulling muscles
And dislocating knees.

For there are oh so many things
A girl like her could pull –
So when she’s finished here tonight,
I bet her life’s not dull.





 

Thursday, March 12, 2015

A bird on a pole





A bird on a pole;
Does this bird have a soul,
That will fly away when it dies?
That will soar up above
On the wings of God's love,
To a home in some heavenly skies?

Or will it just rot,
Right there on the spot
Where it fell off its perch in the sea?
A meal for some crabs,
Flounders and dabs?
- The answer is quite beyond me.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

ELECTION - latest news


For those of you who live in foreign lands, and may not have heard, we in Britain are having a General Election in May.


There is no truth in the rumour that a team of observers from Afghanistan will be sent over to see the election is conducted fairly.

The latest poll suggests that there will be a coalition comprising: Green, UKIP and Monster Raving Looney parties.

At a dinner in London last night, David Cameron said, 'They didn't give us many peas, did they!'


This blog, in keeping with its hard-hitting yet neutral political stance, will be keeping you updated on the latest election news.



Sunday, March 08, 2015

Home for Christmas: unforseen complications


'Happy Christmas, lover.'

Elsie came forward and gave me a big kiss. She tasted very different from cook. 'Here's your present.'

I took it from her; it felt soft and squashy. What could it be? What did I want that was soft and squashy?

I tore off the paper, and - joy of joys: A Christmas sweater. With a reindeer's head, antlers and all. The reindeer had a red nose. But who was bothered with minor innacuracies at a time like this. Certainly not me.
'Oh, thankyou Elsie, you have restored my faith in the Yuletide season.' I blubbed

'Well, and where's mine?' demanded Elsie.

I was dumbfounded, embarassed and a little fearful. And it's hard to be all three at the same time.

I had forgotten to get her a present, but I couldn't tell her that. 'Ah, well... err... I prevaricated.

'You haven't got me one, have you?' Elsie was omminously quiet. And I knew that, when omminously quiet, she was dangerous' Of course I've got you a present. Do you really think I would forget?'

'Well, where is?' Elsie sounded suspicious.

I had a sudden brainwave. 'It's in my bedroom. I wanted to surprise you by presenting it to you at dinner, in front of the whole family.'

'Oh, you're so romantic, darling.I wonder what it can be!' And Elsie winked, and then kissed me again - hard and lasciviously.

'Not in hear, my precious,' I said, 'Someone might come in.'

'So what!' demanded the brazen hussy.

I was saved from answering by the appearance of Mrs Brownlow in the doorway. 'Ah, there you are, you little lovebirds,' she said. 'your mother wishes you to partake of a glass of sherry with her and Mr Borris, on the terrace.'

'On the terrace, Mrs B! ' I expostulated. 'But it's freezing cold - and I do believe it is starting to snow!'

'Yes, but your mother is sharing a herbal cigarette with Mr Borris. And you know she won't allow smoking inside the house.'

'But father smokes his pipe in the house.' I objected.

'Look, why don't you just do as you're bleedin' well told!' hissed the housekeeper, in that ugly tone she can effect when faced with a superior intellect.

'Now look here,' I began... But Elsie was too quick  for me.

'How dare you speak to my fiancee like that!' She shouted.

'Yes, that's right, how dare - ' I stopped suddenly "Fiancee!". What on earth was Elsie talking about?

Mrs Brownlow sniggered. 'Fiancee my arse. I know all about your antics with that rugby team, you little tart.  I think most of them scored that night.'

'You nosey old cow.' screamed Elsie and straightaway went for the housekeeper.  I, fearing that an ugly fracas might ensue, tried to insinuate  myself  between them, promptly receiving a blow to the head from our housekeeper's mighty fist. I shouted out in pain, felt my vision blurr and slid to the floor.

'Sorry, George,' apologised Mrs B, 'that was meant for the harlot.' She bent down to assist me to my feet, giving Elsie the chance to kick her in the corsets. But Elsie, lifting her leg too high, overbalanced and fell on top of the housekeeper who fell on top of me.

We were all scrabbling in an undignified heap on the Axminster, when a voice, resonant with authority, irony and whisky, called called out, 'May anyone join in?'

It was father.



Wednesday, March 04, 2015

"Time" is an endagered species.



So why do people want to kill it?

You see them, on a train, a bus, an aeroplane, headphones welded to their ears, texting or phoning, reading a book or a Kindle, playing games on their tablet - anything to avoid being where they are. Why do they always want to be somewhere else? What's wrong with "here".

And when you get "there" it becomes "here" and you're looking for somewhere else to go.

Okay, if you are in pain or deeply depressed, then "here" is a painful place to be. But if you're just bored, well, why not have a closer look at that boredom; you might find something that surprises you.

People talk about "escaping into a book". Well, that's ok; I'm a bit of a reader myself, but there's a time and place. When I'm on public transport I like to look around: the scenery gliding past outside the window, the people, faces, colours. I like to feel the motion of the train or the bus, hear the sounds, smell the smells. Of course if someone sneezes or coughs loudly behind me, I curse them under my breath and hope I don't catch anything. But hey - there are risks attached to reality. Perhaps that's why so many prefer virtual reality.

I've a feeling I've said some of this before -but it's worth saying again. Isn't it? Oh well, suit yourself.

I'm off to bed.