Freshly Spilled Thoughts

It’s amazing how many people use English words that actually have absolutely zero value.

Imagine waking up in the morning and you’ve got 2000 spam comments pending on your blog.

Comments like this:

This is what happened to me. They use English words, except none of them have any value to a sentient being.

A bit like Boris Johnson when he told everyone to stay indoors and keep safe while he was swinging around a pole outside in the garden, sipping pina coladas in the sunshine at a party.

At a wedding in a castle a few moons ago.

The best man fell over on cobbles outside and ended up having his head bandaged up like a mummy from a tomb.

His ex was there and she said, “Oh well. He’s not my problem now.”

At least she didn’t step over him.

I also read Save Karyn on the coach 🙂

I always feel very relaxed here…

Facebook thinks that I want to buy these beauties…

I’m deciding between this and Samuel Pepys diary.

Flip a coin.

I’ve decided against the Rhinestone as I was getting strange looks at bus stops.

I think we all peaked at Kia-Ora ads on TV and do the Shake ‘N’ Vac.

“I’ll be your dog…”

WOOF.

The only people that get this will be the ones that also remember Harwhites Secret Lemonade Drinker.

I have never read the diaries of Samuel Pepys, but there is something about him that intrigues me. He wrote a diary consistently for 10 years, then stopped abruptly because of failing eyesight.

I’m not really interested in the politics side or even the work. All of that is tres boring.

What interests me is the day-to-day and how life would have been back then.

Apparently he wrote quite frankly and enthusiastically about all manner of things including his liaisons and those he lusted after, in between pints of ale and bottles of wine. It’s the characters and interactions that I’m most interested in.

During the Great Fire of London he buried his cheese in the back garden in order to protect it from melting.

Anyone who goes to such lengths to protect cheese gets a vote of confidence from me.

But here’s the thing…

His diaries are a whopping 1152 pages in length. I would hate to get 20 pages in and discover it’s not for me.

The only diary format book I’ve ever read was Lady In A Van which was 105 pages long. After I finished reading it I gave it to someone else to get them into reading.

They never read it 🙂 (you couldn’t make it up)

Anything over 300 pages starts to feel like a bit of a gamble. It has to grip me early doors or I find anything longer in prospect, rather daunting.

That’s why I gravitate towards short stories by the likes of Michael Marshall Smith.

The downside of this is when you are hooked on a good story and it ends in 15 pages, like the time I read one about a man who unexpectedly fell in love with a motorcycle helmet wearing female courier who delivered computer parts to his flat. I read that in Paphos while I was eating dry roasted peanuts. Halcyon days indeed.

Samuel Pepys has also got me thinking about the whole notion of diary writing. I don’t think I could sit there writing a diary to myself, even if this is pretty close at times :). The ready made audiences over at Substack tempt me with their commercial wares.

At the same time I don’t think I’d want to share everything with the public either.

Maybe I should start a diary, publish it online and password protect every post until I’ve ripped off the mortal coil. That’s what Samuel Pepys did, which is pretty genius.

Kenneth Williams spent most of his time slagging everyone off in his diaries as a cathartic outlet. Miaow.

I still like Kenneth though – he was one of life’s real characters and a one-off.

Commercial diary writing then. Interesting Mr. Bond.

MOOBS

Are you allowed to say it in public? I don’t know.

One thing I do know though is that when you give a video game character something resembling boobs, it’s either a woman or a bloke who let his estrogen get so carried away that he could easily be mistaken for a Dolly Parton tribute act.

Or they do weights like me and it’s a side effect of arguing with gravity.

On Apprentice the other day, they put a pair of tits (excuse the brash choice of language) on a video game character, then got a bloke to narrate it and prance about before unleashing it into the world.

When someone asked if the character was male or female, the narrator guy replied, “It’s neither”, to which the person posing the question responded – “Ah. Unisex. That’s cool”.

But it’s not actually ‘cool’ though is it. It’s generic shite with no identity that a minority has subscribed to, which  the rest of the population is pandering to because there are consequences for having common sense.

If you want to tell people you are a sexless fairy that visits earth from Narnia via a wardrobe you bought from IKEA, people have to go along with it so nobody gets offended.

“He said he’s a sexless fairy from Narnia with affordable furniture”

“Less of the he. That’s offensive even when it’s accurate.”

“You know what I mean.”

“The entity in question is living their best life and we need to be proud of them for that”

“Yawn. It’s a bloke with a costume he ordered online. I know it’s a bloke because his name is Tony and he drinks Guinness. How many sexless fairies from Narnia with a penchant for stout are called Tony?”

“Your P45 is available in reception. We don’t employ libertarians here.”

There’s a place in Spain called Altea, which has caught my eye.

It’s a picturesque seaside town in the Costa Blanca.

Some people call it Spain’s answer to San Torini, with less tourists.

Others seek it out as a quiet alternative to Benidorm.

I quite fancy going somewhere like this in the not-so-distant future.

Picturesque with white-walled streets and it even has a vibrant art scene.

What’s not to love. I’ve added it to the bucket list.

I have a friend who used to live in Valencia until she moved to Paris,
so I’ll ask her if she’s ever been. I’m sure she will have as it’s only about
80 miles away from there. Looks nice though eh!

Plonk me in Altea with a lemon tree and I may never come back 🙂

Here you go
Way too fast
Don’t slow down
Gonna crash

That’s the song by The Primitives, going around my head at this time of day. I sort of love that song.

Can you ‘sort of’ love something? You can in my world. 

The weather is god damn pants awful. I felt like I was in some kind of disaster movie just walking across the car park again.

There was a guy next to me on the treadmill that reminded me of Katie Prices son, Harvey.

He was laughing his tits off at whatever he was watching on his phone and saying words that you would never find in the English dictionary, then every so often he jumped off and kicked his left leg about 5 times, before jumping back on again having the time of his life. And more power to him.

The woman to the left of him looked highly disturbed. He grew on me over the course of 25 minutes. I almost pissed myself laughing at how disturbed she looked, at which point they both looked at me bottling up my mirth.

Exercise never gets any easier but I’m always happy I am able to run. It feels a bit like a gift as I didn’t do it for 12 years and I class myself as a runner now. It went from being a fantasy to a ‘thing’. I did a thing.

I would go as far as to say running is possibly the most liberating thing a person can do on their own.

A guy in my year at secondary school has just been appointed as the national football coach for Sweden until 2030. I was in the same English class as him (Set 2 where the cool kids ended up lol).

That’s about as much as I know about football. I think when a country appoints you for something like that, you’re doing something right.

I watched 1% Club the other day and got the 1% question right. In yer face Flanders.

I’m sure it’s much harder when you’re there.

This question earlier (not the 1% one) was easy but I was doing abstract calculations in my head.

See how quick you do it. In this sequence what replaces the 4 question marks.

JUN1   JUL1  AUG3  SEP6   OCT4  ???? 

If you get it right you win a goldfish in a bag and a packet of Haribo.

30 Seconds. GO.

It’s very Windy Miller outside today isn’t it.

In other news:

I never knew Timmy Mallett could paint. There was a girl in my year at school who went on Wacaday and spelt carrot wrong.

Why do we care so much about spelling? If people know what you mean, who cares.

IF YOU WROTE EVERYTHING IN CAPITALS I GUESS THAT WOULD BE DIFFERENT.

I class capitals as shouting and neediness so I never reply to anything involving such huge letters in succession (LOL).

The only exception is acronyms. LOL <—- A case in point.

I think LOL is the only one I still use (and HTH). Just as I say that, another one pops into my head.

Anyway. GTG 😉

Another day without a missile landing in Birmingham. Thank the Lord.

It’s all like a weird computer game isn’t it. If women ran the world, we wouldn’t have all these wars.

We’d have more florists, engaging conversations and vineyards making Rose wine.

Chortle. And now onto the weather…

It was so sunny this morning, even the window cleaners decided they’d do some work.

1 bucket, 1 sponge and a sprinkling of banter.

After they all finish work, they’re off to the pub. It’s like Andy Capp in the sunshine.

You can get away with banter if you’re a window cleaner. If you work in an office though, it’s a different matter as there are certain things you can’t say.

I was reading about a woman who successfully got awarded damages for racial harrassment from her boss at work. She was Irish and her boss kept saying “Potato” to her whenever they got into a disagreement. I can understand how annoying this would be, but what made me laugh is she joined in with this calling herself a potato as well. Why would you call yourself the very thing you find offensive?

You can’t really go along with it and say, “Yes I’m a potato”, then get annoyed about it later.

“That bastard of a boss called a me a potato at work today!”

“Did he? What did you do?”

“I called myself a potato as well.”

“That showed him. Nothing like a firm boundary.”

“If he calls me a sauteed potato tomorrow I’m going to lose my shit”

“He probably just fancies you and that’s his way of flirting?”

“Hmmmm.”

Anyway, she was awarded 23 grand for this which seems like good money to me for being called something which people love to bake and make chips with.

If anyone wants to call me an artichoke, I will gladly accept on the condition that my damages for this exceed £30,000.

Social media is full of AI ‘bimbo’ bot scripts trying to get gullible men to sign up for Only Fans. Similar scripts are used for a myriad of products/services. Take my word for it that some of them are much more like conversing with a real human being that can intelligently adapt ‘on the fly’.

The OF chatbots are not very sophisticated and I can’t believe anyone actually falls for them, but they are no doubt an effective en masse conduit to models pages which sell subscriptions and is obviously an automated numbers game. One thing they are good at is sending pictures to hook in the male limbic system, then sell the click by dropping a link.

It’s a sordid hustle we are going to get more of this thing over time. Instead of technology being used for good, it’s used to extract cash from the wallets of perves. Nothing new there then.

These scripts are also being used in Messenger on places like Facebook, so that’s something to be aware of. It’s no longer a guarantee that just because someone looks or sounds real, that they actually are anymore (scary eh).

I couldn’t help amusing myself with randomness just to see how it responds so I could post it on here. It’s 8 minutes of my life I’ll never get back, so this is the last time I waste any…

… as you can see though, the scripts are woeful but they do a rudimentary job until they bump into someone like me. The bot script capitulation point is where it tells you that you know where to reach them (lol).

Have you ever met anyone that bangs on about their IQ at every opportunity?

I was talking to someone the other day who knew something and they followed this up with, “And that’s why I’ve got an IQ of 132”.

There was no reason to tell me a number.

You knew a thing. Don’t tell me your IQ number because you knew a thing.

When someone says something like that they obviously think they have the highest score in the room.

The audacity of it all (lol)

I didn’t say mine was higher, which it is.

Does that make me superior in any way? NO.

I find it all a bit unsavoury in the same way I don’t like someone asking you to guess how much their coat cost, just so they can tell you.

The whole price thing is hilarious to me. Why people buy things because they cost a certain amount is the most ridiculous thing.

Objects are just objects. You can’t live vicariously through an object unless you love it. If you love it, you don’t need to tell someone what it cost because the cost is an irrelevant point unless you’re selling it.

You can’t steal someone elses dream, because the dream only means something to the person with the dream (etc).

Going back to IQ…

None of it really means very much.

Someone with a low IQ score could be off the charts with emotional intelligence.

Society has to put a number on everything, but you can’t put a number on a human.

This is Dean. Number 7. Signing off.

There’s an old chat site called Faceparty which I believed to be dead (it sort of is) but I still occasionally get messages on there.

Half of them are people asking me about cars. They seem to think the word ‘Evo’ means I spend my time in a garage greased up holding a wrench.

They are always so direct about it as well. I always feel like replying, “Are you a copper or something?”.

It is and always has been a bloody weird site with the occasional ‘normal’ person on there (not now though).

I wonder why the admins even keep it going? It just seems to exist for no particular reason. I always expect it to disappear overnight but so far it hasn’t. It’s hey day was between 2003 and 2008 ish I’d say. After the noughties ended you’d think that would be it all over.

The hilarious thing is nobody can even upload new photos anymore so you have a site that nobody can join and show their face on. A site that is called ‘Faceparty’. Clue was in the name.

Still, that doesn’t stop people posting ads on there like this one from filthy Tracey who is in an open (some may say conveniently) relationship…

The people still active on this site are either swingers, couples looking for additions to their unconventional arrangements, women looking for other women or people looking to have affairs by using a site most of the population is no longer aware of.

I sometimes wonder if sites like this are used for underground classified ads. Before the internet people just used to write their telephone numbers in call boxes and places of public convenience.

And the world keeps turning.

Welcome to Tuesday.

It’s like most other Tuesdays except this is a brand new one, straight out of the wrapper.

Where the world is your lobster if you want.

Or it could just be like any other Tuesday.

And there’s nothing wrong with that. Routine I mean.

Save the World or Drink a Cup of Tea.

The choice is ours.

And so is the world.

Just ask Nas.

You only get an “Ooh” with “Typhoo”.

I watched another Ben Fogle. This one was about a family in Montana. This bloke basically married a stripper he met in Las Vegas.

At least I assume she was a stripper. Whatever she was doing, she was coining it in.

$5000 a night… and then she met this guy who I’m going to call “Montana Brian”, even though that wasn’t his name.

Some people don’t have good luck do they (LOL).

Do that for 52 weeks, 5 nights a week and you’ve made $1.3 Million USD.

I’d wear a blonde wig myself and swing around a pole for that.

She traded in this life of fleeting clothing and excess cash for a life up a big hill in Montana with this bloke she went on to have a family with.

5 years living in an RV (think ‘big motor home’ in situ). It was the most unlikely of scenarios.

Because these kids have only really been around adults and their siblings, they seemed a lot more adult like but at the expense of ‘being kids’.

More like miniature adults really.

Stunning views but the accomodation was like living in a caravan. Surely you’d take enough money with you to build a log cabin?

Either way, another interesting episode about people making the world make sense by any means.

Overheard at the gym today:

“I don’t sleep much but when I do I love it”

“I train because I love sleeping”

Then the other guy went

“Do you?”

(FFS)

Fair play to him and all that, but it’s not a very exciting conversation is it.

For example: I eat food because I like living and I don’t snort cocaine because it’s too expensive and I like my septum where it is.

Come on, we can all do better than that.

Talk about someone you saw out of the window carrying a shovel in a suspicious manner. Say you were impressed by the way your next door neighbour did a snow angel on the driveway just as you were opening your curtains. Anything.

Don’t go around telling people you exert yourself because you like snoring your tits off.

We all love sleep. Sleep is a good thing. Some may say it’s a necessity.

I’ve been guilty of saying I had a great dream or an amazing sleep, but I at least add something to it to stave off the boredom of the fact.

If you ordered chips off this guy you’d just get chips. No salt, no pepper and no vinegar.

Plain Jane chips.

It’s like the people who exercise and only ever drink water. There’s more to life.

H20 Harry is not very exciting. I rest my case.

Dubai doesn’t sound so good at this time of year anymore, does it.

“I think I’ll have my 5 star hotel without the missile, if you don’t mind.”

Shocking really.

Last thing you want with a cocktail is a drone explosion before your starter has arrived.

We always seem to annoy countries we should have nothing to do with as well don’t we.

We blow up leaders that have been around for 36 years and then wonder why they get antsy.

“They’ve just blown up our long standing leader!”

“Right, let’s send a drone to Dubai and ruin everyone’s holiday.”

“Is that enough?”

“It will increase the number of people going on holiday to Devon for a while.”

“Okay. Great, let’s do it.”

In many ways I wish the apex predator had peaked at the Polar Bear. At least they only cause trouble near icebergs.

I think we peaked when we were Vikings. Even though it was more visceral, at least it was honourable.

Apart from the pillaging etc.

They say that a measure of your life force is your grip strength.

So if you shake hands with someone that has a grip like a wet lettuce, go easy on them.

On a whim I bought some hand grips from the middle of Lidl about a year ago.

They were rated at 45kg. I don’t know what that means exactly, but they were more of a challenge than I expected.

I can close them easily with my right hand. I do 10 reps/closes at a time.

With my left hand I have to think a bit. At first they were a bit of a challenge with my left.

Most people I give these grips to can’t actually close them once.

I forget about them for a while and then check I can still do it.

They have grips called “Captains Of Crush”

Magnus Samuellson can close all of them. I think they’re rated up to 4 or something.

The grips I have are rated at 0.5 on the Captains of Crush scale (which sounds pathetic but I still  invite you to try)

I can’t imagine ever closing the highest rated ones but there’s something on my shoulder challenging me to try to see how far I could get.

So I might buy the next grips up. Imagine being able to crush an apple with your hand (stuff of dreams).

If you could do that, you could probably fly if you really wanted to. At the very least, you would do well in interviews.

Ooh… it’s the 1st of March already.

The year goes by quickly doesn’t it.

And so does the weekend…

One for all you wine buffs out there. This weekend I tried Silverland Malbec, courtesy of Argentina.

So smooth it makes Hugh Grant look rough around the edges…

The trouble with wines like this is they are too easy to drink, but there’s always tomorrow to burn it off.

You have to pay the piper.

In other news…

I can’t believe I came 19th in a competition I wasn’t initially aware of.

This made me $50 richer, but my competitive instincts kicked in and I wanted to bump myself up a few places.

It wasn’t to be. The winner got $10,000.

The universe wanted to give me $50 so I’ll take it 🙂

I was 19th out of 1.5 million without really trying.

Someone I know got diagnosed with tennis elbow yesterday.

Funny that isn’t it?

Not the malaise, more the fact they give you a sporty sounding name for your condition.

You can get a bakers cyst as well apparently.

Not heard of bricklayers ankle or carpenters neck… or such like though.

I wonder how they decide upon such things…

“How did it go at the docs?”

“I have tennis elbow?”

“Do you play tennis?”

“No.”

“Do you watch it?”

“Yes.”

“Probably that then. I always get it after watching Novak Djokovic for too long.”

I feel great today. It’s not every day you get to feel great, but today I do.

I ran last night which was hard, but also exhilarating.

I haven’t taken creatine for a while but my strength hasn’t dropped. Go figure!

In fact, if anything I feel stronger and I don’t really know why.

I drank sports water because it’s free with my membership, which is a novelty as I only upgraded this week.

So far I’ve only gone down the lemon zest and blackcurrant choice of flavours, but 4 more await me in the future.

It always makes me laugh when they attribute a word like ‘sporty’ to water.

“I drank sports water and became better at the high jump.”

If only it worked like that.

I had an amazing sleep as well. When I woke up I didn’t want to move, it was so restful.

The only other time I feel like that is when I’m awoken from a dream I want to know the ending to.

Neil Sedaka died, which is a shame. I really liked him and he did ‘Laughter In The Rain’.

Another musical genius that will be missed.

Instagram is a funny thing. I posted there once in 7 years.

2019 was my last post.

2026 I posted one photo.

That tiny ripple was enough to start getting new follow requests, some from people I haven’t seen in years.

All I keep thinking to myself is: “Leverage”.

That’s what the internet is.

We have this thing that literally connect everything and people are using it to say they had Lasagne for tea.

Now we have AI and most people will miss that opportunity as well. Mental really.