...dead sheep

This is one found roled up on the top of the wardrobe from the year19**
Well lets just say last century.
I remember walking in the Black hills in Wales & seeing sheep just laying dead here and there.
This explains how that happens.
(Best looked at if you click on and zoom in, its a bit big. Read left to right then right to left. I dont know why.)

...aliens

Oh dear.

....ducks

I don't know where some stuff comes from.

...me

Ive done some random blogging lately, Ive improved my spanish & blushed alot at some of the sites, but the ones I find intersting are about people & the breif insights they give into defferent lives.
The shortest way people do this is with the "100 things about me" , so here's mine.


1. Im Blonde.
2. My mum is Blonde & from Essex.
3. I like blonde jokes.
4. I rarely drink.
5. I go out of my way not to lie. Honesty is a good, not the best policy, but a good policy,
6. I own Two yachts,...well sailing boats, ....I mean Dinghies,.... Small Dinghies. ok, Im poor.
7. Even I consider myself odd.
8. Im 6" tall & the shortest bloke in my family. Hurumph.
9. I like tea.
10. My car is pink. - the gayest car in the village so I've been told.
11. Im not gay. (This may supprise some people)
12. Im single, again.
13. Im synical and sarcastic.
14. Despite several qualifications in English at school, I stel can't Speell.
15. I find it funny to work the phrase "dancng naked in the moonlight" into serious conversations at work. My work mates find it funny watching confused reps..
16. My conversations are rarely serious or linear.
17. I like tea.
18. Im a music junkie.
19. I detest vanity & selfishness in people.
20. I dispair at society.
21. I have no pets.
22. I tend to kill plants, even plastic ones.
23. My favourite colour changes with my opinions.
24. I like to make fun of the French & Welsh, but quite like the Welsh.
25. I don't like sheep. They like die at random & with out warning as if protesting about somthing.
26. I have many, many aquaintances, but few close friends.
27. I have ten toes & half a belly button.
28. I not good with people initially.
29. Im rapidly becoming a net potatoe.
30. I don't own a television set. 5 or 6 years now .
31. I tend to doodle in my lunch hour at work. An annoying habit.
32. I really do like tea.
33. I don't belive there is a god. I jokingly describe myself as an Agnostic fundamentalist. Non devil dodger, However I like the concept of a religion providing a set of rules from which society needs to function.
34. My family moto is "Heres to us & F.T.R." (thats fuck the rest) This was my Grandmothers doing . Seriously!
35. I have one brother.
36 At the age of 33 I gained a secret sister. I learned this at a wedding along with fathers' shocked second wife.
37. Im happy & content.
38. I can be a little niave.
37. I once set fire to my school playing field, accident of course.
38. Im too slim for a chap.
39. I used to play rugby , In the front row as a prop forward. It hurt.
40. Ive never ever seen my neighbours in the flat below mine.
41. I like cats , dislike dogs.
42. I play the guitar badly.
43. I can only sing when drunk. Usually on tables. (Hence see point 4)
44. Im a qualified senior sailing instructor, this frightens the hell out of me with large groups of childen as my responsability.
45. Despite my religous standing I am a Godfather. I was tricked!, but I believe in the purpose of the post.
46. I find I can have no opinions on wall paper, curtains , most fabrics or pointless orniments.
47. Never had a seroius relationship. This makes me sad, but the selfish side of me likes being single & doing what ever the hell I like,
48. I have no regrets. (Well one, Helen Johnson. sigh)
49. Never taken drugs. Although people would disagree.
50. Have three tatoos. Not intentional. Stabbed three times with a pencil as a kid.
51. I have the travel fever. Ive been all over the world ,but never further north than Manchester in England. Go figure !.
52. I appreciate good photography, although Im pretty bad at it myself.
53. Im self depreciating.
54. I have far less vital organs than I was born with. Thanks Cancer. Athough this saved my life.
55. I feel better than James Brown. No, really I do.
56. Im going to start running again this year.
57. Im silly.
58. I like jelly babies & bovril.
59. Don't like sprouts or Marmite.
60. I tend to live life on the outskirts of society, looking in, but secretly would rather be part of it.
61. Dont watch telly, but love movies & read too much.
62. I dropped out of University, but am a self taught mechanical design engineer.
63. Don't own a telephone, what does that say about me ?
64. Like to be out doors.
65. Need to be doing somthing. Anything to keep my mind happy.
66. I am terrible at small talk , because I can't be bothered with it.
67. love meeting interesting people.
68. Good listener I think. People for some reason ask me for advise. As if I know anything.
69. Stopped drawing and painting for a long while because of social pressure. I realise this was stupid because it makes me happy.
70. I can't delogate. Control freak I think or like things done my way.
71. Crosswords yay, suduko yawn.
72. Milk chocolate not dark.
73. Shy. Very. At 20 I wouldnt use a telephone. That level of shyness.
74. Like children, dont understand them.
75. Ive not decided what I want to do as a career yet. Im only 35!
76. I have no want for material things. Money is only a nescessary evil. Work & money or free time. Give me the time everytime.
77. Hate shopping. I have a 'seek & destroy' method, know what you need, go get it , get out. done.
78. Don't like clubbing, love rock festivals. Even been to good Jazz festivals if that's not a contradiction.
79. Fav' season : Autunm.
80. Movie Icon : Audry Hepburn. (Swoon)
81. Fav band: OMG its' I think it's Motorhead.
82. Fav' slut.: Wendy James (Transvision Vamp). Every one should have a favourite slut!
83. Fav' marsupial: The Echidna.
84. Secretive... no. I only have the one.
85. Im the only on of my group of freinds not married. OMG! I'm going to die lonlely.
(Bed sits, pot noodle & loneliness for me then.)
86. My brother, mother & I have been homless & on the street once. Now we have too many homes to live in at once between us. I belive fortune is a fickle thing. Take your oppitunities.
87. Don't smoke, but I may have mentioned I like Tea.
88. Am an avid sailor ,but am pretty much terrified of the sea.
89. I like to frighten the hell out of myself. Its the adrenaline rush.
90. Last album brought : Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.
91. Last ablum aquired : Arctic Monkeys.
92. Have difficulty with Disney films. Far too Sacharine.
93. Hate the corperate, But have noticed my blog starting to take on a corperate image , must do somthing about this.
94. Like being with freinds & just talking. Always the last to leave. Does this make me clingy?
95. Am a really bad cook. I think it's because I can't be bothered with food after I've cooked it.
96. I prefer the utilatarian over the pretty. Dont understand the need for designer labels.
97. Im a different person to each of my groups of freinds. None ever seem to meet.
98. I like spotted dick, the pudding.
99. We all claim to be from somewhere, when at home I claim to be from my native London. Out of Norfolk I will defend the county beyond measure. I dont think I alone in this behavior.
100. I like to smile & joke.
101. I always take things one step too far.



How do you fit who you are into 100 things, especialy when they expand so rapidly?

...telephones.

One from my old school archive, but apt for the time of year.

...the advantages of sticking to the trumpet.

...on safari.

....Rhino bumps

My cousin e-mailed me en-route from Sidney to some where in NZer land, telling me she's going to go on Safari in Africa.
Good for her.
I'll just sit in jolly England & watch the rain.
Hurumph.

Planet saved

OMG , Dr Who just turned into Aurther Dent.
Saved by a nice cup of tea.
I approve.

That's disturbing !

I've just looked back over the past few entries.
This is getting a little sinister.
Hmm, a subconcious state of mind thing?
I resolve to lighten this up again in the new year.

..fun with sheep

Pretty hacked off and angry tonight , I think this may have reflected my mood at some point.
Don't like being in this state of mind.
*mumbles

.....pop tarts & other incendiary devices.

Oh what the hell.
As a confirmed Fire Pixie I have to admire Pop Tarts for their potential for misuse.
Ready made, leagally availible, strawberry flavoured incendiary devices.
Stable until cooked.
Just add toaster & stand back at a safe distance.
Eat at your peril.

....the pharmasist

More exploding products....

....police violence

For my friends in the force.

....exploding products

I could have hit on an idea to pep up all those dull products.
Forget new packaging & cool new adverts.
Lets make the products randomly explosive.
This gives the everyday stuff the thrill of Russian Roulette.

My suggestions for the treatment.

Dental floss. (as above)
Toothpaste (don't brush too hard.)
Eye drops (A real eye opener)
Tampons.(yikes, the very thought)
Hair gel (Arrogant salon types only)
Cigars (But then thats been done already)
Pop tarts (If they are not dangerous enough already)
Big Mac (This would halve the danger if a ratio of 1 in 50 exploded)

.....the merry season.

Now bearing in mind my sceptecism & vindication of all religous activities, this is possibly my one concession to theChristian cult.
Each year I try to produce a set of cards to send out, not with the intent of any yuletide message, but just to let them know Im thinking about them and while at the same time trying to conform with societies expectations in my own way.
Any way this is the first of the series. I suspect there will be a number of beaten up snowmen this year.

.....architects.

Anyone who has had to deal directly with one will know my torment.
The engineers point of view.
The scribble above hangs on my office wall, within full view.
The intent is that the many architects whom grace my office understand level of my contempt.
I have yet to come across one whose' concept above and beyond the aesthetic will warrant more than a fleeting moments contemplation.
The mere fact that the services will not physically fit in or the fire escape routes do not conform, the ceilings are too low for human habitation & "oh , gosh; surely that would be structurally unsound?".
These concepts mean nothing compared to: "What colour is it?", "Can we move that structural steel?, we want open plan spaces", "I want radiators, but I don't want to see pipes" & most common "Whens Lunch?"

Now its' been my observation that the size of the project is directly proportional to:

a) The architects firm basis in reality and/or concept of the laws of physics & relative three dimmentional spacial awareness.
b) The quantity and quality of interest taken.
c) The concept of client value.
d) The proportion of procrastination.
e) Communication breakdown & quality assurance paperwork generated.
f) Consultation & commentary period required to misunderstand any communication or request for information.
g) Fudging over irrelevant detail and general mincing about.
h) The quantity, quality and frequency of lunches eaten.

Small projects bring on the desire to poke the architect in the eye possibly with something blunt, maybe rusty.
Anything larger than a hotel, office building or in my case today Norwich City football club stand bring on happy thoughts of architectural genocide.

Thank goodness for a nice cup of tea to quell my urges.

What do they do to earn their money ?
Im of the opinion that in the greater scheme of things Architects only just come under insurance brokers, financial consultants & the county council in the list of societies leaches.

....amature radio buffs

Ham radio...as requested.

......press gangs

Press ganged, guilt tripped or taken to the cleaners.
Which ever way I look at it I can now add the title of 'Rear Commodore' to my increasing list of 'Things I don't have time to do'.
.......Sobs.

...lemmings

Friday night, & young lemmings gather at the local dive.

Yay , I found a whole bunch of these from when I was at school !
It appears reading through them I was a highly disturbed child.
I'm sincerely hoping this is the only vent for my sadistic id.
I don't ever remember being cruel to animals, owning a high powered sniper rifle or going postal lately.
Mind you I did crush that paper cup in anger the other day.......

.....muggers

Leporidae with flick knives. This is why they hide in the long grass. Mugging. How else can they afford such big families?

....ducks

Ducks, has any one seen a yellow duck?
Very small chickens are yellow, cygnets are gray, small ducks are grey(and ugly so the urban mith goes).
So why are rubber ducks always yellow?
Rubber ducks are also made of plastic, not rubber.
Should this be reported as breaking the 'Trade descriptions act'?
Who would listen?
Who cares?


Are rubber ducks better than real ducks?
Rubber chickens are better than real chickens.
Absolutely.
Can you outstare a rubber duck (see above scribble).
These are questions I feel the scientific community has not fully addressed yet.

....enraged fisherman.

Maybe I should not be criticizing fisherman. That's far too general. Any one that works the sea has my respect.
I will settle for having a go at fresh water anglers. Sod 'em.
Attached scribble is the lengths they will go to try new bait.

....Fish

The pescadores were out on the lake again this weekend.
They sat like statuesque sloths, silent in their dories as the world carried on around them.
Fishermen baffle me. I've concluded from my observation that the point of fishing is to sit as still as possible while toying with the on set of hypothermia. They sit, they don't move, they don't talk. . .You could have fun like this in the freezer section of a morgue with more lively company. Pointless.
When some action finally occurs, a fish is hooked, reeled in. What do they do? Take it home to eat?
No.
Denied it's meal, the fish is thrown it into a net; where it's teased for a bit; before pulling it out, weighing it and taking its picture. I'm sure if a fish wanted all of this it would join weight watchers.
I appear to work with a lot of fisherman. My boss fishes , my colleagues fish, salesmen come into my office that fish. Not sure whether this is some clan I'm not aware of or some conspiracy ring going on under my nose, but safe to say I'm surrounded by them.
Here's the thing, they talk about fishing. Over and over and over and over and over, and it's dull. So ,so dull.
Bearing in mind that most of the actual fishing time is spent in a fridged ,semi comatose state, it baffles me that it is rigorously debated as though it is a true battle to out wit the wiley fish. I lack this insight. Im sure not so the fish thinks to its' self, 'I really fancy a mixture of spam and bread crumbs today' or 'well that's not the right worm, I think I'll starve myself till the right one comes along'. 'Im not eating that its a foot too high in the water'. Its a bloody fish! It eats what's in front of it. No discussion needed. Reality check though HUMAN BRAIN: BIG, FISH BRAIN: SMALL.

I can ignore them along with the train spotters , stamp collectors, football fans and campanologists of the world. However, I've been doing my eco-friendly bit this past few months clearing up the site around my broad at Filby in Norfolk. Filby is one of the lakes in the Broadland area that is recognized by English Nature as a SSSI, (Site of specific scientific interest) and as such is deemed a nature reserve for wintering birds and the like.
As a reserve why do I keep clearing up the waste tackle after these epic fishy battles?

This is how the above scribble came about, I just wish the fish would win once in a while.

....when chickens bash thier beaks off.

Watching the little darlings run up and down my mums garden, pecking at the ground all day led to this.
I've concluded that the world of free range chickens consists of not much more than swanning around with their bum in the air and banging thier head on the ground,before faling over comatose and repeating the next day. Is this why cockrels wake up screaming ?
Satisfactory lifestyle ?....possibly, but is it not more humane to pack the little fellows in a nice, small, battery cage where they can't self harm?
Looking at it from a chickens' perspective though; you have wings you can't fly away with.
You have feet which frankly aren't going to look good in any shoes.
No hands, so you can't wipe the poo off your feathers.
You periodacally squeeze out an egg twice the size of your pelvis, endure the associated pain only to have your new born taken, fried and placed in a McMuffin.
Repeatedly hitting your head against the ground is starting to sound like the sane option.
Anyway the world of the chicken is a strange place, but the place in my head is getting stranger..er.