Freshly Spilled Thoughts

As I walked across the car park earlier being slashed upon from a great height by the gods of all that is thirst quenching, I emotively and flippantly thought to myself:

“Other than being able to eat food, there is nothing good about this country”

I mean, there is…

But… we endure so much rain. This has officially been the 5th most miserable Winter since 1910 in the UK.

Think about that. The titanic sank in 1912 and we’ve only had 4 other Winters as miserable as this one lol.

It’s just Rain. Rain. Rain.

And darkness, which is fine if you’re a mushroom.

Then we reach the Summer and it’s so humid we all clamour for fans. Well, I do.

Then people say, “I like it hot but not this hot.”

Just as you give up hope a beautiful thing happens. Some people call this thing Autumn.

20:38 hours on a Friday night. Still slashing it down. Slash. Slash. Slash.

The Gods are laughing at us.

Bring me Sunshine by Morecambe and Wise is all but a blur in the rear view mirror.

RIP to Rob Grant, the co-creator of Red Dwarf #badtimes

Why does beer always look better towards the end of the day?

Someone wrote: “I own a goldendoodle”

I never knew there was such a thing, although I am partial to the word ‘golden’ (I always thought it made syrup sound better).

What would Jason from Jason and the Argonauts have to say about that?

“I take your Goldendoodle and I’ll raise you a Golden Fleece. Put that in ones pipe.”

I remember when people would just say, “Yeah, I’ve got a dog.”

Now they say, “I’ve got a Batwombledoodlecockapoo” and people go, “Ooh. Get you. Does it fly?“.

Whoever came up with these names are the same ones that name their kids things like ‘Amber Tiger-Heavenly-Lilly Mindfulness Smith’.

Nobody remembers any of that and shortens the name down to a nickname anyway. When I was a kid I had a friend too lazy to call me Dean. He actually shortened it to “D”.

I became a letter of the alphabet. This was before D became a euphemism.

I don’t know who is in 18th place but they are starting to get on my tits…

When I didn’t know I was in a competition I was in 19th place. Since then I realised this competition was ongoing for February and I have more points, but the next 18 places must be made of stern stuff.

Never mind them. My beef is with 18th place….

I’ve bestowed ginger hair and big knuckles upon them to slow down their points rampage.

They also drink too much diet Coke.

On Sundays they count peas and they bore people at parties about their carbon footprint.

I laugh in the face of 18th place.

To be continued.

There aren’t enough hours in the day, so I don’t watch this very often, but when I do there’s always something in there about humanity that fascinates me.

Ben Fogle: New Lives In The Wild 

One episode I watched was about this guy who has lived on a canal boat for years. Prior to this he was merrily ticking along, then his wife tragically died while they were abroad at the age of 50. Ever since then he’s been up and down the waterways, trying to find himself and a sense of sanctuary in the face of loss. It came across to me as a love story and a way to come to terms with life as it is now. A way to function, because I don’t think you find total peace when you place yourself in adversity.

The adversity and discomfort is just the teacher.

The other one I watched was about this woman who had 3 kids, who got to an age where they no longer needed her. As the 40th candle blew out on the birthday cake, her sense of purpose sputtered out. To find herself she abandoned the life she had as she knew it and got dropped off outside a gas station 30km from where she previously lived. This woman spent the first night of her new life sleeping in a ditch. Now she goes around on her own with donkeys, pigeons, dogs and a wagon like the ones you see on the Oregon Trail. I’ve never seen anything quite like it in the 21st century.

To get from one place to the other, she travels along busy highways which don’t bother her in the slightest. Ben Fogle had to pull the housed pigeons along what would be the UK equivalent of a hard shoulder on the motorway and I could tell he was petrified.

All these people are trying to make sense of the world and find themselves at the same time.

The older I get, the more I understand it.

Bob Mortimer and David Mitchell are in this one. I might just have kittens…

Do you remember in the old days you’d have to ring someone’s doorbell or cold call them to sell something?

Yeah? Those days are long gone.

Just like those catalogues you’d get from Kleeneeze, it’s a thing of the past.

The only one left now is Avon. I’m amazed it’s still going.

There must be 92 year old women still offline ordering lipstick or something for that to still be operating with a physical catalogue.

“We can’t shut down the catalogue, Ethel still needs her lipstick and she’s only got a T9 mobile. She thinks Amazon is something to do with a rain forest.”

They used to call the Argos catalogue, “The Book of Dreams”

As a kid, I was always intrigued by the hairdresser one where you’d make their hair grow via a plasticine conduit.

I think I liked the idea of turning a handle and watching something grow.

For some reason that sounds wrong and I don’t quite know why. I had better stop there before it becomes a Carry On script.

Now I’m an adult and I know how it works, it’s not very exciting is it.

Marketing Brief: “Let’s cut some holes in this characters head, give them some cheap plasticine and attach a handle. Then we can turn kids into salon owners just in time for Christmas.”

“Do kids want to own salons?”

“They do now. We’ll put it in the book of dreams.”  

“Brilliant. Pass me the champagne, Charlie. Maybe next year we can do an adult one where Ken (of Barbie and Ken fame) takes viagra”

“Seems like an outrageous use of plasticine to me Martin.”

“On reflection you’re right. The bubbles have gone to my head. Maybe we can say Ken does the pole vault like a superhero. You know, without the use of his hands?”

“You’re drunk now.”  

Telling certain people you like horror films is the same thing in their minds as someone coming to view a property as a potential lodger and saying, “Do you have a basement. If so, can I see it?“.

Nevertheless, it’s a genre that has steadily grown on me over time.

Most of them are quite formulaic but I enjoy the light hearted beginnings that get everyone to relax going in.

The exception to this is Saltburn as I was enjoying being on Oxford campus and would have rather spent more time enjoying uni life in the film. That film is disturbingly dark even by my standards.

With horror films you know the general drill:

Start of the film they are full of cheer joking around in the car, listening to the radio, teasing each other or laughing about the price of popcorn. Next thing you know, the car tyre goes pop and they have to get out by some place conveniently surrounded by a bunch of woods and a family nearby who are experts with a crossbow.

Side Note: If you’ve ever seen the film, “Wolf Creek”, my mates brother dated one of the actresses in that film.

We know what we are getting.

I fairly recently watched one called Calibre, which was good in a way that only nail-bitingly tense horror films can be.

It’s about two mates that went on a hunting trip in the Scottish highlands. Other than the hunting part, all very normal at first, then an incident occurs and the whole thing becomes a masterclass in tension that won’t let up.

You are guaranteed to say, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” at least once during the film.

lol my use of swear words means Kermode’s job as a film reviewer is safe.

I couldn’t stop watching it to see what happened next, and I haven’t found anything quite like it since.

Deffo worth a watch.

Picture Quality: 1 out of 10

Cute Factor: Off the Charts…

Someone once said to me, “Do you know why I eat cheese?”

“No. Why?”

“Because cheese gives you a hug.”

Ooh… no humans required for such a feat, which is the gift that keeps on giving.

“What are you doing with those coins?”

“I’m buying 7 hugs worth of cheese, thank you very much.” 

I wasn’t a big cheese eater at the time, but you know something… they were right. It does something funny in the brain that is probably the equivalent of feeling like a big cuddly bear has come along and wrapped their arms around you…

…so it’s easy to see how popular this whole cheese thing is. Sometimes I put in on top of an omelette and it definitely hits different.

What about in the absence of cheese or someone that can’t eat it?

Well, I happen to know someone like that who I always give a free hug to whenever I see her. She says I’m only one of two people who ever give her a hug. To be honest, I think the highlight of seeing me is the hug bit, which is something I never anticipated.

I mean, it’s not something I’d write down in a CV or anything.

I know someone else who can’t hug anyone, not even her own sister. She has a hang up about that kind of intimacy. She has kids as well and my brain has already done the maths on that, so I won’t go there.

They both just put their arms in the air and wave at each other. It’s a pre-agreed thing and it works for them.

My brain actually plays a version of this greeting out in my head and it seems absurd. You’d think it would be easier to just give someone a hug than put your arms in the air like a cheerleader from a distance.

I guess it’s the same problem people have that don’t like shaking hands or something.

One solution would be to wave their hands at each other and also bring some cheese along. Then they could wave and chomp on some cheese which is the nearest thing to a hug they’re both going to get in that scenario (lol).

Just my quick thoughts on hugging and cheese there on a Saturday afternoon, which has now made me feed decidedly hungry.

Talking about cheese was a bad idea, but if you’re buying me some I like mature cheddar thanks.

Ooh, it’s Friday. That came around quick didn’t it.

Take a look at this photo…

One of these 4 people is me. If you can guess which one of the 4 it is you may win a prize [1]

[1] The value of aforementioned prize will not exceed that of an organic toffee apple. Subject to terms and conditions [*].

I may also be in this photo. To confirm or deny such a thing would detract from the competition terms outlined above [2]

Passe un bon week-end.

[2] I hear the food at this establishment was delicious. Unfortunately no online ratings system existed back then, so it was just word of mouth.

[*] For full terms and conditions of this competition you will need to prove you can do a cartwheel. If this is not possible, a handstand may suffice.

In between working my knackers off, I am 3 episodes into Small Prophets and I’m only watching it because Justin Lee Collins assured me it was good.

He didn’t directly message me to tell me this, he sort of… tweeted it.

And that’s good enough for me…

It’s a sitcom written by Mackenzie Crook, who you may remember as Gareth in “The Office”

You know, the one who had his stapler put into jelly (great prank).

He was also in The Detectorists.

In this show he plays a hardware store manager.. or should I say “micro-manager who is so stressed out he keeps asking people if they have been on their lunch break yet”.

The main character is a bloke who is past the point of giving a shit about most things, least of all whether someone wants to purchase something from the hardware store he works in. Neither does he care about his neighbour who keeps asking him if he can find time to cut his overgrown hedges back that are blocking out the sunlight.

He does, however, care about his partner who disappeared 7 years ago, with no explanation as to her whereabouts.

He cares about that a lot.

Michael Palin plays his dad, who has a big journal all about growing your own homunculi. These things resemble miniature humans that grow in bell jars and speak the truth about anything you could possibly wish to know.

Useful then.

Against his better judgement, he tries his hand at growing them in his shed at the end of the garden, in a bid to hopefully get answers to the question he cannot answer by himself.

An interesting, if somewhat ridiculous premise. He owns a Capri instead of an electric vehicle, so I was already going to give this thing a chance.

In the same way I put time aside for Saxondale.

Besides, who doesn’t love a bloke doing a bit of shed alchemy to pass the time.

I’m 3 episodes in. 3 to go.

Homunculi. Lovely word isn’t it. I think every home should have one.

A memory popped up on my phone earlier.

This is the only known photo to exist of me in Moseley Bog…

… not that I’m there very often anyway.

Dean R. Tolkien

When the pimp’s in the crib, ma
(Drop it like it’s hot, drop it like it’s hot, drop it like it’s hot)

When I was walking through the park yesterday, there were 2 police officers on duty.

Unusual, my dear Watson. A policeman on duty out on foot these days is like spotting Banksy having a pint with his mates.

Anyhoo… just as I was thinking it was a waste of resources, a man wearing a balaclava flew through the park at full pelt towards them (and me) on a high powered electric bike

The police reacted at the speed of a sedated rhino and the guy on the bike got away. Or so I thought.

It seems I had stumbled into some kind of sting operation, so I headed out onto the high street, only to see someone else being arrested. There was  a big dent in the side of an SUV, so either a demented buffalo had been in the area or someone on a bike had gone into it. Place your bets.

I asked a local shopkeeper what was going on and he went on about some machete attack and how the place was filled with undercover police. I don’t think he really had any inside knowledge, he was just making it sound like Donald Trump was due to visit and 50 special services operatives were in the area 🙂

It all seemed to calm down, so I went into a shop, then when I came out there was a guy running down the road trying to get away from two police officers. He had a man bag over his shoulder which seemed to be slowing him down.

A bloke outside a pub stood in the way to stop him, which was brave and foolish in equal measure, but fair play to him anyway. He got knocked to the floor by this guy trying to evade capture and the chase continued.

The police sort of did a fast jog and the perpetrator quickly ran out of steam before falling to the floor, like he’d just lost on Supermarket Sweep.

No sign of Dale Winton.

I can’t believe how unfit people are these days. You know in films where someone tries to get away from police by jumping over fences, only to eventually get caught because law enforcement usually win in films?

Yeah, it was nothing like that.

This was more like the bottom class in PE at school. You know, the ones that aren’t allowed to play football or rugby, so they’re allowed to play table tennis and badminton instead.

These people think they are gangsters just because they’ve watched Gangs of London on Netflix. lol.

I like this pub and it was quiet when I went in. After ordering food, the kitchen staff came out and said to me, “Sorry we don’t have any eggs left“.

How can you run out of eggs. Surely that’s nearly impossible…

I’d accept running out of steak, fish and lobster… but I’ve never heard of a restaurant running out of anything as basic as eggs before.

It’s only one step away from running out of tap water.

I actually said to the woman, “How do you even run out of eggs? How can that be a thing?”

And she replied, “I don’t know, my shift only started 10 minutes ago“.

Brilliant. They substituted it with pineapple, which is alright but it’s still not an egg, no matter how hard it tries…

This week I went on the bus for the first time in years, to the Queen Elizabeth hospital.

Because of Kersal Massive I can’t say anything about day-savers without thinking about their viral YouTube video.

Nonetheless, I had to buy a day-saver and it was hard not to think of  the ukulele acoustic version of this impromptu rap as the ticket duly printed.

What a mish mash of characters you get on buses these days…

From stoners to salt of the earth types, you’ll find them all aboard the wheels on the bus as they go round and around.

Last time I got on one, a bloke unleashed the Lords Prayer upon me.

I don’t mind people being quietly religious, but I don’t want a picnic hamper worth of it 🙂

For some reason this reminds me of the time I went to town and this guy thrust a book into my hands about ‘Vegetables Having Feelings Too’.

The title of this book did momentarily intrigue me and it’s one you never forget.

It also raises more questions than answers. Are certain vegetables more emotional than others? I’ll never know.

This man with a buddhist vibe going on, angrily confiscated the book back off me when no money was forthcoming, which made me burst out laughing at how absurd it was.

It’s hardly a punishment is it? Taking back a book about vegetables that have feelings.

I never forgot it though and as a result I do try not to upset spring onions in particular (let’s be honest, whyever would you).

However, it has to be said that it does get hard when you have to chop one up for the greater good so that it can go into a stir fry.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

One ‘not so great’ thing about the internet is you get to hear about every Tom, Dick and Harry that rips off the mortal coil.

Sometimes, I’d honestly rather not know.

The media machine preys upon it and you even get news articles on people that once got to number 97 in the charts, 30 years ago.

Or rappers that once got more than 200 views on TikTok

Not even Z Listers.

However, I was sorry to hear about James Van Der Beek, who played Dawson in Dawson’s Creek.

I wasn’t a fan of the show, I can’t say I ever really watched it, but I remember it being on whenever I went to my mates house because his wife literally swooned over Dawson.

So did most of her friends.

“He has hair… and teeth… and he lives in Dawson’s Creek. A place of mystery, where teeth are kept white with Tippex and hair is never out of place”.

I didn’t know much about him until yesterday.

Sounds like he was a decent family man… and back in the Dawson days I can see how he caused fainting whenever the show came on.

48… what can you say other than life isn’t always fair?

In fact it’s an absolute bastard sometimes, so you have to remain thankful for every day we get to spin around on this big blue ball.