Ah yes... The scene in Douglas Adams Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy where Ford Prefect entices Arthur Dent away from saving his cottage from demolition and down to the local pub for an emergency last beverage before stowing away on a passing Vogon Destructor Fleet.
For those of you who haven't read my last entry (shame on you), May 21st is Vogon Demolition Day. That's today. yes, it's the end of the world. So I recommend everyone pops down the pub and thumbs for a lift from any UFO's in the
A long time ago, I was asked a simple but searching question. Robin Harrison was the aspiring guitar hero of Red Jasper who tried to seek enlightment having listened to my own angry hard rock riffs. Not because he thought he might learn something meaningful from my own interpretation on what constituted music, but rather because he couldn't understand why I was so utterly entrenched in one particular style. Especially since I was a drummer and therefore had no legal reason to be playing a musica
With so much done yesterday I decided to relax my job seeking and take advantage of a break in the blustery winds and showers. It's been a while since I took a hike out into the country and believe me, I was stunned by how unfit I've become. By the time I'd trudged up the hill where I live I was sweating and breathing deeply. Not good. Not good at all.
As I crossed the polo ground, the grass wet with dew, I encounterd the morning dog walking shift. My suspicions about how long I'd been avoi
Seven months after he vanished from his Gloucester home Murphy the Gnome was found alive and well on his owners doorstep, along with a photographic record of his travels around the world. This heart-warming tale just goes to show there's more to gnomes than meets the eye.
Usually these quiet citizens of our front gardens don't travel at all. They lead a static existence, holding fishing rods and sitting there even in the worst inclement weather. They're good neighbours. They never get angry
Today our jobseekers rehabilitation programme covered bullying. We discussed aggression, perception, and expression. Or at least, some of us did. In truth most of us are so bored of this programme by now we've all lost the will to live. Our ever cheerful resident sex change person tells us she(?) listened to the radio this morning. Surely life cannot get better than that?
In fairness to our advisors they decided to give us a treat today. We were going on an outing, a field trip, a visit to a
There was a change in the air after my traumatic visit to the job centre. The library was way emptier than usual, clearly indicating most of the regulars had frozen to death overnight. I was almost pleased to see Mr Fidget arrive. He began his daily ritual of slapping pockets and searching bags before he even sat down, with a whiole morning of uninterrupted fidgeting to look forward too.
Even the Lady Who Hisses At Me was in a friendly mood. She is now officially the Lady Who Whispers Object
Boy oh boy am I in a bitchin' mood. I guess you too sometimes feel that when the world reveals itself as being layered in pooh, which if you think about it, happens to be pretty much the case. But I'm not interested in your woes right now. This is my blog you know.
Among the many comments and appraaisals I've received of late is the opinion that I'm not funny. Oh. Sorry about that. It depends on your sense of humour of course, but it hasn't escaped my notice that the very same people who acc
I had intended to go on a hike yesterday but the unsettled weather put me off. Today however was due to be sunshine and showers, and after looking at the weather map on tv I decided to risk a venture into the countryside. So this morning I was up early and all packed. My intention was to climb to the top of Liddington Hill, the highest spot in Wiltshire and not too far away, although the route I planned to go by meant following the road south then doubling back up the escarpment, a fair distanc
Even as late as last night the weather map on television was not encouraging. Great swathes of bright blue covered southern england and that means rain. Wet weather is a fact of life in Britain. British tradition is to start conversations with strangers about the weather. Our country is famous for getting wet. I'm not quite that famous, but I do get wet now and then myself.
The promised downpoor has already passed us by. It's still damp and grey out there, but most people are plodding around
Today I made another visit to my local surgery. All part of keeping the Grim Reaper at arms length. Nothing much to report, just a routine visit, and despite not feeling completely fit as a fiddle, I'm not suffering in any real sense.
By coincidence I spotted a news article teling us fifty-somethings how to stay in the front line against the Grim Reaper. Sort of like a survival manual for grey haired old codgers. Who knows? Maybe there's a few tips I could use?
Tip number one. Keep Chec
Whether I like it or not, the festive season is behind me and so I must gird my loins and return to the quest for gainful employment. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only claimant actually looking for work. The day before the programme centre closed for christmas I was the only one there. Apart from two of the ladies, who apparently volunteered to man the desks while I was busy jobsearching. Luckily I'd forgotten my aftershave - I was outnumbered. But as it happens they made it known they were clo
Today is big news for me. I have published my first book, available from all good booksellers, entitled Introspective and Non-Triumphant Behaviour Among Adolescent Roman Males (by Caldrail). Took me ages to research the subject. Finally finished and out on the shelves. Woo Hooo!
You are all going to buy a copy, aren't you?
This was of course a complete April Fools joke and the said book does not exist. It also happens to be a subtle if somewhat abstract poke at some of my dole-seeking f
Its almost impossible to escape the news that the global banking system is wobbling. Governments are stepping in and in some cases, falling out (I refer to Britain freezing Icelandic assets over concerns about the amount of british money held there).
One chap contacted the news team and said that forty years ago he needed an interview with his bank manager for a loan of
That's it. Game over. I've lost all my data. Everything. Eight years work, lost in a moment of electrical fireworks.
It's official too. The data recovery people left me with backups of broken fragments and random folders full of files I've never seen before.
If this was merely an accident, a chance occurence, fate, or simply bad luck, well, what can one do?
If this was a deliberate act by someone somehow, then what was it for? What did they achieve? You can't create something positiv
I've always said that you can tell a lot about someone by the way they enter a room. DW, our intrepid reporter for the online wiltshire magazine, always seems to enter a room without having to open the door. That's quite a classy entry and frankly I'm envious. My personal battles with doors are the stuff of legend.
It turns out that DW has just interviewed a celebrity for his website. I've never heard of her before but I 'm sure she's very famous. Yet no sooner had I poured scorn on his late
There was something different about the supermarket yesterday. The building was in the same place, still the same pastel yellow walls and off white polystyrene roof tiles. Still the same range of products more or less where they were the last time I was here. Even a few seasonal products in highly visible red packaging didn't explain my sense of foreboding.
Got it. Music. Hard to miss it really since it was being played somewhat loudly. Mind you, calling that cacophony 'music' is stretching
As I woke this mornign it was obvious the weather wasn't all too pleasant out there. Another rainy day? This has to be Swindon. The other day I was strolling home along the canal path. The weather was damp rather than rainy, a typical grey day for this part of the world. This being winter, green was in short supply. Most vegetation has withered away leaving pale yellow weeds and brown woody bushes.
Allotment gardens, our modern re-invention of the medieval vegetable plot, look little better.
Sunday morning is a time when we survey the damage left by late night revellers. A womans shoe is on the pavement, a sure sign that Cinderella went to the ball and decided that Prince Charming wasn't charming enough. Not really suprising since he and his mates were drunk, engaging in a singing competition in which random lyrics are put to random melodies and may the loudest voice win. Every week this goes on. Where's Simon Cowell when you need him?
At any rate, Cinderella was probably on a g
At some point, somehow, I must have upset my neighbour downstairs. I can tell what mood they're in generally by listening, given how much noise goes through the floorboards. Yep, he's slamming doors in the early morning. That means he's had hardly any sleep last night and wants me to wake up too. It's like living with a cantakerous alarm clock that speaks a foreign language.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I heard you. Oh good grief it's not even nine o'clock yet. Time to roll over, shut those eyes, and
Industrial estates are odd places. You see them everywhere in british towns and cities, a road along which factories and warehouses are lined up in bold advertisement and yet give off a feeling of almost monastic solitude. You don't see any activity. There's no sense of urgency or productivity. I'm sure that's not actually the case or all these companies would go out of business. It's just that the square and architecturally cold brick frontages do not reveal their inner workings to the casual p
My trainers are damp. There's a sort of cold wet feel to them. Yes, you're right, I got soaked. Yesterday I ventured out to find a certain seminar venue and with the weather looking like drizzly showers, I decided it might be wise to take a baseball cap with me. Oh, yes, and a rain resistance jacket. You never know. These survival items really should be made compulsory for everyone risking their lives in exploring the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire.
It started drizzling not long after I se
Ask yourself what sort of weekend you had. Mine was windy. That's probably because october is Swindon's Windy Season anyway, but I guess most of the country were experiencing blustery conditions as well. Nonetheless I was bored so venturing out on the saturday night was definitely on.
Getting drunk is a bit expensive these days. So much so that landmark pubs are being demolished here in Swindon. There are two closed premises just down the road from me that are going to be turned into flats i
Today is newspaper day. I have to really because the job pages are printed every thursday. Once upon a time there used to be three pages stuffed with adverts for this or that opportunity of a lifetime. These days there's a page of timid adverts costing the bare minimum, and almost invariably outside of my travelling range.
Well that part of jobsearch didn't take long. So what else I have got for my forty pence? More efforts to reduce speeding motorists. In fairness, Swindon took a bold step
Earlier this morning I opened the back window and looked out across the Old College site. It's looking very shabby now. The lead lining on the cafetria and hall roof has been stripped off, and without the verdigrised grey cladding, it now looks oddly naked in flesh coloured wood panels. the tower block at the end clearly shows sign of temporary visits by vandals and homeless people. Smashed glass and boarded up windows.
A couple of days ago I spotted a hydraulic lift up the side of the tower
Something strange is afoot in the Independent Peanut Republic of Rushey Platt. Up until now I've only been dimly aware of it, but yesterday something clicked into place.
Somebody wants me to conform. To be the same as everyone else. To be ordinary. To relinquish my individualism. To accept mundanehood. Most people do. They choose a stereotype in order to fit in and avoid attention. They adopt the uniform, the manner, and the language of their chosen tribe. Thats ordinary social behaviour for
