Freshly Spilled Thoughts

The brass balls of the proverbial monkey were indeed so cold today that they froze right off.

What words would convey something falling off, if such a travesty were to occur unexpectedly in inclement weather?

The tragic plummet of the plums, maybe? Sounds more like a bad musical score 🙂

Anyone going commando in December is apparently going to receive a medal for bravery.

Into the Breach!

Medals are a funny thing aren’t they…

The ones I like the sound of are:

The Purple Heart and The Iron Cross

Who wouldn’t want one of those.

It’s almost impossible for other people not to be impressed if you put a type of metal or a colour in front of the medal.

Pink may be the only colour that wouldn’t work and you don’t want cheap alloys either.

“Ooh, look at you with your Pewter Cross. What did you have to do to get that? Step over a puddle?”

Not so keen on what you have to do to end up with a good one though.

Can’t we all just get a lovely sounding one for being really good at the Coconut Shy.

“What are you doing Dean?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just after a Purple Heart for accuracy when I take out these coconuts.”

Roll up, Roll up.

Here’s a picture of me and the fam when I was a kid. It’s not the most crystal clear picture, but it may be my favourite photo of all time and I can’t even remember it being taken. The one with me and my grandfather is a close second. I’m not entirely sure why this one sticks more than the others, there’s just something about it that nourishes my soul.

Looking at it, I guess really it’s about love and togetherness but at the time I was probably thinking, “Why is that person pointing that at me?”

A time when I had an abundance of hair and before I discovered dumbbells, beer, women and song… not necessarily in that order.

Wow look at that t-shirt (I loved it).

If I could, I’d go back to that point in time tomorrow. But that isn’t possible.

You only really notice the beautiful things you cherish later on, I suppose.

So onwards we go into 2026. Hell to the yes.

I once created an Instagram account and forgot all about it. Not a heavy social media user then (lol).

7 years on someone I know sent me a message on there, so I had to reset my forgotten password to read the message.

I reset my password. I read the message.

So far, so good. I tittered.

I put one photo on there, seeing as I was there (first in 7 years) and had people liking it I haven’t seen or spoken to in years.

The internet is a strange ‘ole place but you know something, if you ask me it needs more mystery.

It was a beautiful thing when people you spoke to had to ask questions.

It’s good to share things but some stuff should remain private.

Like the ones that say they are at the airport about to go on holiday. They might as well write, “Feel free to burgle the house while I’m grinning at Heathrow”

Are people really so desperate for validation? The answer to that is YES… they are.

The internet is the biggest paradigm shift to happen in centuries and people are using it to tell each other they’ve just chopped up some carrots. About as exciting commentary as watching fresh paint dry.

These are the same people that will use AI (the most powerful thing since the Internet FWIW) to find out who is in Love Island.

I haven’t got a mic to drop so I’ll just drop this freshly chopped carrot instead.

The period between Christmas Day and New Years eve is something of an anomaly in the yearly calendar.

Christmas is over, the crackers have run out, some turkey is still remaining and
it’s still okay to hanker after a roast potato (good luck with the trimmings ’cause there’s none left).

There’s usually a TV special on that you’re willing to raise one eyebrow about…
at least in prospect.

It won’t be Gavin and Stacey though, so that won’t be occurring (just ask Nessa).

Other than that everything temporarily slows down.

The roads are quieter. People become humans ‘being’ instead of humans ‘doing’.

Some of them even smile, which is a hard thing for Brits to pull off, even
with a tube full of toothpaste at their disposal.

No pressure to be anywhere or do anything.

Which makes a change. 

It’s a rare little pocket where nothing is required of you.

One can just exist and watch the world go by for a while.

(always sounds posh when you say ‘one’ doesn’t it)

Boxing Day is the equivalent of an interlude on a good album, if Christmas Day
lived up to expectations.

If it didn’t, then it’s just a bad single that never charted (lol)

And I quite like it.

New Year next. When I was a kid I would sometimes let the new air in with my grandfather.

He’d actually open the front and back door of the house with a great deal of glee, so this
was very much a ritual.

I remember one year just before the clock struck midnight, Sticky Moments was on TV with
Julian Clary singing “Like a Rhinestone Cowboy”.

Forget the New Year, his show was on a few days too late because that was
truly camp as Christmas.

Anyway…

Back to enjoying not having to do anything in particular for the rest of the day.

I’m playing this one out with Fantasy by Mariah Carey.

If you play it through a decent stereo, it’s something else…

Merry Christmas from moi to vous.

Fin.

This is the most Christmassy Tony Soprano gif I could find and I haven’t got time to look for a better one.

A rather rotund chap turned up in a red outfit earlier asking for a glass of sherry and a mince pie.

I asked him if he could come back later and he replied, “I won’t knock on the door. I’ll just come down your chimney.”

How rude.

I’d advise everyone to stay vigilant tonight, it seems we have a prowler on the loose with a penchant for mince pies and alcoholic beverages.

Favourite colour: Red. Has a wayward beard and a sidekick called Rudolph.

As I write this now, there will be people still frantically placing Amazon orders hoping for next day delivery 🙂

In the olden days when people rode on horseback they’d have to don suitable attire and venture out into the world to procure such gifts of delight.

Christmas is just a little bit mad, isn’t it.

One thing I’ve noticed though…

Less people look cheerful this year and a few people I know have sort of opted out Christmas (it’s bizarre). I wonder why that is? You’d think everyone would be jubilant COVID (as a concept at least) was a blur in their rear view mirror and that people can go out and shake each others hands without a care in the world.

Enforced social distancing can’t get you down. You can even do a hip bump if the other party doesn’t mind that kind of thing. What’s not to love.

Obviously don’t do it to others when you’re standing in a queue or anything.

“Yeah, I read this thing on a blog written by someone seemingly wise whilst retaining a sense of mirth and tongue-in-cheek adventure, that said people didn’t mind hip bumping at Christmas. I’m just paying it forward with my hips.”

“You’ve just assaulted me whilst I was paying for mint sauce. What is wrong with you?”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Police. Police.”

“Maybe I misjudged this hip bumping in queues thing. I need to stop mindlessly following advice dispensed on blogs”

On that silly note…

I’m actively avoiding Christmas songs as they’ve been done to death. With that in mind, let’s play this one out 2 days prior to Christmas with Let’s Do The Time Warp Again from the Rocky Horror Show.

It has to be said that at the age of 52 Cher was MUCH hotter than I remember back then.

She’d give Peter Pan a run for his money (on the youth side. Hotness no contest)…

I’ve got a friend that zigs when others zag.

Most people watch Blockbuster Hollywood Films and the next new series on Netflix.

He watches obscure subtitled films I’ve never heard of.

Most people go for a stroll to the shops.

He runs 10km in the morning for ‘fun’.

You get the picture…

Some people just live slightly off the main road.

He said to me, “I met this woman recently who works in a shop that sells gin. It’s near the flat where I live and I go in there sometimes”

I enquired, “Oh yeah? That’s very specific. Was she sober?”

He replied, “Yes. I mean, I said hi to her now and again, then got talking to her.”

Curious about the gin situation I said, “Do you ever buy any gin while you’re in there?”

“No. I don’t drink gin“, he said with a high degree of certainty.

This is why I love characters. They crack me up. If he doesn’t drink gin, that means he browses a shop that sells gin with no intention of ever buying any just so he can say hi to a woman that he was secretly lusting over.

He then said, “I thought I liked her, but after talking to her a few times I realised she was completely mad.”

I thought, ‘Hmm. That sounds like a deal breaker?’

Before I could say anything further he enthusiastically added:

“And that made me like her even more.”

His eyes lit up.

He’s as mad as he thinks she is. A match made in heaven.

I revelled in this notion of how you can pair two completely bonkers things together and tie them up with gin and conversation, whilst having no intention of making  a purchase.

Brilliant.

I know what he means. Too normal could be boring.

“She had wild eyes, slightly insane. She also carried an overload of compassion that was real enough and which obviously cost her something.” ~ Bukowski

When I was out earlier, everyone was driving around like lunatics. People lose their marbles on Fridays don’t they, especially with the Christmas countdown timer in full swing.

They are so angry as well.

Too much testosterone. Not enough brain power.

I think if more people got laid, the roads would be more peaceful. Let the cortisol out somehow for crissake.

That probably says more about Friday traffic psychology than anything else.

Anyway. I always like hearing how other people see the world.

On that note, I would like to wish all readers of this blog a very happy Christmas (minus the manufactured bit).

I hope Santa doesn’t get stuck in your chimney, and if you end up eating his mince pies, get the decent ones from Marks & Spencer.

Ciao.

This and Rod Serling in Twilight Zone are the two best programme intros in the history of the world (other than the Littlest Hobo)

“Knight Rider, a shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist. Michael Knight, a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless in a world of criminals who operate above the law.”

The narrators voice is brilliant. I wonder how many cigars you have to smoke to get a voice like that.

More gravel than a cheap driveway…

Every kid in the 1980’s wanted to be Michael Knight or borrow his car even though they couldn’t drive 🙂

As I write this it’s all very sunny and splendid outside.

6 days until you can pull a cracker.

Pardon the pun.

You don’t hear many people say cool beans these days…

But this person in my tribe liked it enough to use it as their username.

This blog is now 1 years old. Still a baby but no longer keeping me up at night.

I got a notice it would have expired and vapourised after today

#BadTimes

I shovelled a few quid into the slot and the lights are back on for another year, at which point hopefully I won’t get distracted by the price of quail eggs or something equally absurd and forget to renew it.

If that happens you’ll probably just see a site with slot machine ads or a redirect to something filthy like Freshly Spilled Milf or something.

#GoodTimes (not the MILF bit… I was talking about the lights)

Anyway…

Let’s end this one on something more poignant…

Exhaust the little moment
For very soon it dies
And be it gash or gold, it will not come again in this identical disguise [1]. 

I would say I’m a poet but I’m just good at remembering ‘stuff’ (read that in a diary I had over 20 years ago and it stuck with me ever since).

[1] I added ‘For very’ because it rolls off the tongue better. Gash = Painful, Gold = Joy.

No double entendres were intended in the assembly of this post.

I wonder why this frog is slapping its own ass? (what does G N mean.. I 100% don’t get it – been a long day)

At the bizarre they went too far:

I love witty people and I loved George Burns.

He said things like:

“Sex after 90 is like trying to shoot pool with a rope. Even putting my cigar in its holder is a thrill.”

“Happiness? A good cigar, a good meal, a good cigar and a good woman – or a bad woman; it depends on how much happiness you can handle.”

“Fall in love with what you’re going to do for a living. To be able to get out of bed and do what you love to do for the rest of the day is beyond words. I’d rather be a failure in something I love than be successful in something I hate.”

“Lots of people have asked me what Gracie and I did to make our marriage work. It’s simple – we don’t do anything. I think the trouble with a lot of people is that they work too hard at staying married. They make a business out of it.”

Side Note: His marriage to Gracie is one of the great enduring and rare love stories. He once said this about her: “”All of a sudden“, he later said, “the audience realized I had a talent. They were right. I did have a talent—and I was married to her for 38 years.”

“It’s hard for me to get used to these changing times. I can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty.”

Nobody quite like old George. I can’t believe he’d be nearly 130 if he was still around now. He was born in 1896… I never thought about it at the time but there were even people in the sitcom Bewitched, that were born in the 1800’s and on telly in colour including Aunt Clara (the one who always got the spells wrong)!

I tried smoking cigars but I gave that up as a bad habit when I was 19. Good while it lasted 🙂 They reckon in Burns lifetime he smoked around 300,000 of them which makes me question if they are really that bad (lol).

Aint nothin’ to it but to do it…

One brick at a time…

Keep going. Even when it’s raining.

Todays Workout: 

20 Minute Run (hard as balls. Women do it. Not many men do)
4 Sets (x2) Dumbbell Rows (never easy, that’s why almost literally nobody does them)
5 Sets Upright Rows (They say they are bad for shoulders. Probably true but I like them and I feel like Godzilla doing them)

Side Note: It’s much better to watch Godzilla backwards because then it’s the story of a benevolent giant lizard who rebuilds a city and then moonwalks into the sea.

I posted this on Facebook a while back and my legend of a mate who has the same surreal sense of humour as me replied:

“I like watching Scarface backwards, it becomes about a bloke who gives up drugs and crime to follow his dream of becoming a dishwasher to fund a trip to Cuba.”

4 Sets Cable Pulldowns (variation on lat pulldown)
4 Sets Of Reverse Hyper Extensions (people avoid this as well – seeing the comfy pattern yet?)
4 Sets of Sit-Ups (pretend you’re in Rocky – that’s what I do)
4 Sets of Seated Cable Rows (toughish if you do them properly)
4 Sets Of Lat Pulldowns (everyone does these because they feel nice)

If you train you’ll probably wonder why I missed out deadlifts. It’s because I was in a car crash a few years ago which was like a scene out of Pulp Fiction when Bruce Willis was staggering around.

Couldn’t do my dead hangs as it was being hogged by the ‘lets’s just check my phone’ brigade. It’s an epidemic.

One thing I’ve learned from all my years of people watching in gyms (etc) is that MOST people are lazy. They avoid the hard thing at any cost and would rather sit there scrolling through TikTok.

I watched a personal trainer with someone earlier. He was fannying about with stretchy bands like one of those street performers making shapes out of balloons. I don’t know what they get paid for.

Takes 1 Hour and 15 minutes.

Then we go again, but not tonight Josephine.

The pre-amble for the post that never was…

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…

The nearest thing to National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation by me…

Next Stop: Wally World.

Apparently an influencer called Mary Magdalene (I hadn’t heard of her) spent hundreds of thousands on cosmetic surgery. At 33 years of age she bowed out of the mortal realm after posting something cryptic from The Truman Show.

The before surgery(ies) photo is on the left and the end result is on the right…

You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to see that she looked awesome on the left and didn’t need any corrective or enhancing surgeries. What we have then, in my unqualified opinion, resembles something more like mental illness, manifesting itself with repeated surgeries until she became some sort of caricature figure. Is it just me or does she look more like Pete Burns on the right!?

Speaking of Pete Burns, I used to like his You Spin Me Round (Like a Record) song…

You spin me right round, baby, right round
Like a record, baby, right round, round, round

lol not a lot to it when you write the lyrics out, but it’s still a classic.

I saw this happen with Rich Piana as well. He wanted to look like a superhero you’d find in comic books. I really liked Rich Piana, but he pushed it too far and ended up being a bodybuilding cokehead.

Back to Mary Magdalene…

To look like she did cost her hundreds of thousands of dollars. She even had her eyeballs tattooed.

That is absolutely insane. I can’t get my head around that, it sounds like something out of a horror film.

I don’t really do much commentary on famous people or what’s in the news, but I just happened to notice this today.

Jack Lalanne used to say, “If man made it, don’t eat it“. Never a wiser word spoken, even if Kettle Crisps do taste nice.

When it comes to cosmetic surgeons I don’t think man is better with a scalpel than God. Blows my mind how many bad surgeons there are out there. They must be cross-eyed, half of them.

I actually think Mr. Magoo would make a better surgeon than half of these dodgy butt lift ones in places like Turkey. Better off sticking to body squats and a bit of Stairmaster if you ask me.

Some people have the keys to the human equivalent of a Ferrari and inexplicably turn it into a Lada because they don’t realise how beautiful they already are. Not only that, they pay for the privilege.

Dick Van Dyke turned 100 yesterday.

He still sings, dances and goes to the gym.

Be more Dick, that’s what I say (had to be precise with my words there).

This may just look like a random sign to some people, but when you examine it closely it’s actually a man begging his dog not to leave him…

The problem though, is that the dog has been watching re-runs of The Littlest Hobo…

There’s a voice that keeps on calling me
Down the road is where I’ll always be

Every stop I make, I’ll make a new friend
Can’t stay for long, just turn around and I’m gone again.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll want to settle down,
Until tomorrow, I’ll just keep moving on.