Prof Brian 'All the guys want to be him, all the girls want to be with him' Cox
I mentioned in my last blog that the excellent Stargazing Live program started on the BBC on Monday night. It was a treat for us all. For the comedy fans, there was both the towering genius that is Dara O�Briain, and the much underrated Andy Nyman. For pretty much everyone, there was Prof Brian �All the guys want to be him, all the girls want to be with him� Cox. For fans of people who have 'the right stuff', pre
The Grand National was run this weekend. For those who don't know about it, it is the biggest horse race in Europe.
The reason I mentioned it in my blog is that something caught my ear this time, and that was when, after the race, the BBC commentator said, ". . . there were no fatalities this year", in a tone that indicated a degree of pleasant surprise. Think about it; it's worthy of a mention that no-one died in this one off, 10 minute sporting event. That's like a football commentator
Bashing the Bishop
What do you think to the title? Bit rude? Bit adult? Hey, I can do blogs that�re �edgy�. In fact, there are those in the world that will almost certainly find the following down right offensive. There are those who say it�s high time I did a controversial blog. So here goes:
It may have passed the rest of the world by, but the Church of England had a vote recently on whether or not they should allow women to be ordained as bishops. In the end, they voted against, some
When I’m away, I rarely get the opportunity to enjoy any telly. Partly because it’s quite tricky to get hold of UK TV channels when abroad, but even when I’m in the UK, I don’t have the time. I know I shouldn’t, but I do tend to over indulge when I get back. It’s like coming in from the cold and wrapping yourself in the warming comfort of an old, familiar duvet. There’s been a bit of talk on other blogs about what’s on the telly, so I thought it might be a nice idea to make a list of the Top 10
Warning: This blog contains a word that I’m not sure about, but may be a swear word. I don’t even know how to spell it, so you’re probably on safe ground.
Welcome to GhostOfClayton’s Twice Fortnightly blog. Allow me to introduce myself to new bloggees (yeah, right!). I am a tour guide specialising in hiking tours of Hadrian’s Wall, and am widely regarded as the thinking woman’s man-totty. 50% of the previous statement is true, which should be a guide to how much of the following you should b
I’ve just been through a course of treatment for premature ejaculation. I’m OK now, but for a while it was touch & go.
<rimshot>
Just getting in the mood, because I’m starting to fit jobs around our annual visit to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. For as long as I can remember I’d heard tales of this legendary festival, and longed to go, but never did. I wasn’t really sure why, but if I’m honest I was probably a little over-awed by it. It is after all, the largest festival on the pl
Hello, and welcome to my blog. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.
The law of unintended consequences
I was listening to Nigel Farage being interviewed on the radio this morning (the picture isn't him, by the way). For those who don’t know him, he’s the leader of a New-Kid-On-The-Block-Far-Right-We’re-Not-Racist-But-We-Have-To-Keep-Saying-We’re-Not-Racist political party in the UK. Now you won’t be surprised to learn that I don’t agree with very much he says. However, this morning
Warning: This blog contains the word 'shit', and possibly other words like 'shit'. If you're not comfortable with reading the word 'shit (or other words similar to 'shit'), then I advise you not to read on, just in case you encounter the word 'shit'. You have been warned! (About the word 'shit').
Hello everybody. Welcome to the GhostOfClayton Twice Fortnightly blog. Comfy? Off we go.
Disco's here, dat goes der
I genuinely doubt that anyone has followed this blog from its early incarnati
It's Monday, so it's time for my weekly blog, and this week, I have two stories to tell you all. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin . . . .
Limericks
I'm very fortunate that, no matter how bloody awful things get outside it, the stuff going on inside my skull is always pretty entertaining. When my mind is not otherwise occupied, it gets caught up with little tasks and trivia, and I can't seem to stop it. I don't want to seem like some kind of old letch, so I won't dwell
Hello everyone, and welcome to the GhostOfClayton ‘once-again-it’s-turned-out-to-be-less-frequent-than-twice-fortnightly’ blog.
The litmus test of a civilised society
Very little is new at OfClayton Towers (though that isn’t an excuse). The main thing is that Mrs OfClayton has started a new job. She is now working in a library, and she enjoys it very much. I must admit it sounds quite interesting, helping people research projects / interests and the like. Trouble is, libraries are very much
Hello all, and welcome to the GhostOfClayton twice-fortnightly blog. Little warning: some of it may contain �adult themes�, but all in a proper, medical context.
A letter arrived on the doormat here at OfClayton Towers last week, and I recognised it straight away. It had a cute little anthropomorphised blood drop (who I understand to be called Billy) on the back, and I have had one of these every three months for about the last five or six years. It was the notification that the time had arr
Well here we are once again, that annual midwinter dog and pony show they call Christmas. Bloody hell! And that was swearing. I make no apology, and I will swear later as well.
It�s already a matter of record that I lament Christmas getting ever-earlier (I blogged about it a few weeks ago . . . where were you?), so that�s the first reason for me to curse. Apart from that, I�m not religious, I probably have anti-capitalist tendencies, and don�t have kids, I rarely drink, I�m still on that per
I�ll start with a seemingly random series of stuff that�s happened (or is going to happen) to me, and then explain their relevance.
Number 1. I spent much of December sitting behind a desk. The downside is apparent to anyone who has to sit behind a desk. The upside is that I got paid for it, and so am now the proud owner of some money.
Number 2. Every Christmas, Kindle have an event called The 12 Days of Kindle. This involves reducing the price of many great titles to (usually) 99p. A ti
Happy New 2015!
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.
It’s traditional at this time of year to have a sort of review of the past year, outlining key events and so on. Since I did bugger-all of any worth whatsoever in 2014, I won’t waste your time. Instead, I’ll tell you what I’d like to achieve in 2015.
As ever, for those that don’t really know me (which is all of you – this blog is kept strictly a secret from anyone I actually interact with, just in case they laugh at me)
Hello all. Welcome to the GhostOfClayton Twice Fortnightly blog. You OK? Let’s do this thing.
WARNING: There is no bad language in this blog entry whatsoever. So if you were looking for some, then tough sh*t.
Poltergeist?
Prepare yourselves, dear readers, for a strange and terrible tale of spine-tingling supernatural events, that will chill your blood to the very bone.
There have been some mysterious goings-on at OfClayton Towers these past few years. An unquiet spirit walks its dus
Warning: In this blog, I do use the word ‘Bitch’ more than once. I’m not a misogynist.
Welcome to GhostOfClayton’s Twice Fortnightly blog. Allow me to introduce myself to new bloggees. I’m a bitch, I’m a mother, I’m a child, I’m a lover, I’m a sinner, I’m a saint. Yes, I stole that. It’s a lyric from Meredith Brooks’ very catchy track, ‘Bitch’. She goes on to say, “I’m your hell, I’m your dream, I’m nothing in-between. You know you wouldn’t want it any other way.” I always feel that the long
If you remember, last time I left you on a cliff-hanger: Did I go to Bottom Pub with the crowd, or did I respect my 25 year old ban, and stay away? Sorry, you�ll have to wait until next time for the answer to that. I have something topical to discuss this week. That is to say, it was topical when I wrote it. Subsequently, the UNRV website fell into its long coma. It�s no longer topical, but you can read it anyway:-
I�m not sure just how much this news has filtered into other countries, or ev
Incidentally, the title of this blog refers not to some drunken adolescent, but the frittering away of one's formative years. It's a phrase often associated with the game of snooker, and is certainly true in my case. more on that later.
A stroke of luck
The day of the Royal Wedding found me staying just outside the oldest town in Britain (which is Colchester). Over breakfast, we'd had the telly on, and inevitably it was wall-to-wall coverage of the lead up to the big 'I do'. This seemed to
Warning: The following blog contains strong language, and scenes of a sexual nature.
But first up, more from the iPod:
2-4-6-8 Motorway � Tom Robinson
Woo Hoo � The 5-6-7-8�s (Weird coincidence, given the previous track?)
Up the Junction � Squeeze
This Town Ain�t Big Enough � Sparks
Summer (the First Time) � Bobby Goldsboro
I love "Summer (The First Time)", maybe because it's every man's fantasy first time, eh lads? Mrs Robinson, and all that . . . YOU know what I mean. Whereas,
HP Sauce � turns a sandwich into a manwich
Now, I�m not one to do celebrity product endorsements (you have to be a celebrity to do that, for starters), and I�m certainly not in favour of the creeping product placement we seem to be experiencing nowadays. But I do like HP Sauce. Those who don�t know what HP Sauce is (this equates to no-one in the UK, and probably practically everyone anywhere else), are now asking �what is HP Sauce?� Basically, it�s the proprietary brand among a collection of pr
'Probably me', would be the answer to that question. On Wednesday night I was driving past a wood just outside the sleepy little village of Aquis-of-the-Romans. A movement just outside the field of my headlights caught my eye, and before I could react, a deer leaped out onto the road and in front of the car. Thud! . . and then a 'thud-thud' as it went under each of the right hand wheels. That gets the heart beating, let me tell you.
What do you do after you've hit a deer? This is a different
You�ll be needing a little historical background for today�s story, so here goes.
As the Allies started to gain the upper hand in World War II, they started to plan out their strategy for following a retreating army back to Berlin. Any wartime leader with any sense would dynamite bridges as they retreated over them, and the assumption was that the retreating Nazi army would do the same. So the stickiest problem for the Allies would be getting tanks in sufficient numbers across the Rhine. To
You may have noticed that I didn’t publish my twice weekly blog on Thursday. That’s for two reasons. The first (and probably most pertinent one) is that I had a blog up my sleeve saved in my e-mail drafts, and when I came to look for it, it had gone. Shame. It was a dang good one that explained what a ‘Snowclone’ and an ‘Oxford Comma’ are. The second reason is that, as a responsible blogger, I feel I should talk about the recent events in Paris. Such a weighty subject clearly deserves more of my
Over the August Bank Holiday, Wroxeter Roman City were holding a Gladiatorial Re-enactment event. Ever since the villa was built for the excellent �Rome Wasn�t Built in a Day�, I�ve been promising myself a re-visit, so Mrs. OfClayton and myself (recent English Heritage members) decided to take the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. How glad we were that we did!
Despite a tiny bit of early drizzle, the weather cheered up leaving a dry afternoon for the fighting. I�d managed to
Christmas is now behind us, and the time has come to put away the decorations at OfClayton Towers. It's also time to consider those in society whose Christmas has been a distressing time for one reason or another (we shouldn't consider those who have been determined to have a miserable Christmas because they're nothing but a Grinchy old Scrooge (like me, for example). I'm not really talking about the desperate masses in sub-Saharan Africa that Bob Geldof became so passionate about in the eightie
