So tell me, are you happy,

Do you have the things you need?

The house, the car, the children,

Are all your dreams complete?

Is the life you have enough for you,

Are you wishing there was more?

Or is the home you have a prison?

Even though it has a door. 

Tell me who you dream of,

Whose words still move your soul?

Are you going through the motions.

Where nothing makes you whole?

Do you want to be alive again

And feel a lovers touch.

Are those days now just a memory?

Where nothing matters very much.

You did everything he asked of you,

You know you've played your part

So maybe, then just maybe..

It's time to live your heart.

I met one of the loves of my life on here, we were only together for a while but her impact on me will last forever.
I cant believe 10 years have passed on by since then though.

The thing is, we age, we all do, luckily I have this strange mind set.

I find the women I most want to be with tend to come along in an age group that increases as I do.
Because lets face it, when the collar and chains come off I want some common ground to be able to share with her.

But surely a prostate examination is never a good time to find out your doctor is an amateur ventriloquist...

Genesis 1-3
The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters.
Then God said, "Let there be light".

And there was light too, tons of it, you could see for miles.

Oh sure, the Bible tells you that God gave the earth light on the very first day.
Me? I had to wait until the third day of my holiday before I saw it....
Then of course with 95f sunshine spreading its goodness all over the ground, this created another nice little interesting side effect.

98% humidity.

Have you ever hung up clothes in a steamy bathroom to get all the creases out?
You have? oh good, now you know exactly what my testicles looked like after 3 hours of sitting in hot, steamy sunshine.
I was left without a single wrinkle on them.

But now I need to go back to my second day again.
Imagine the Caribbean.
Imagine Blue skies, white pristine beaches, Palm trees gently swaying in the breeze and turquoise seas glistening like a mirror in the sunlight..
It was bugger all like that!

First of all the sky was rolling, black and angry,
the rain was beating down so hard, families of fish had left the sea and were walking up and down the beach saying how nice it was.

Well I say beach..
in reality the wind is whipping it up so hard it's like standing in front of a sand blaster,
but hey, at least it dislodged a few hundred Mosquitoes that were busy feeding on my willy.
Oh and while we're at it..The palm trees were swaying so hard they were throwing off Coconut shells like bullets,
Finally, the Turquoise seas had obviously done a holiday swap with Clacton UK.

AND THAT, that was the day some poor bugger had chosen for her dream Caribbean wedding.
There is a saying all brides are beautiful.
Which is a complete load of bollocks....this honeymonster certainly wasn't.

I've seen several weddings in the Caribbean, just not one that had been organized by Poundland.
I don't know who made the Brides dress but I'm sure on some level, Stevie Wonder did the design work..
I've seen better clothing on a rag and bone cart..

Sadly, her make up (and I dont care HOW waterproof you make it) didn't last very long in a 70mph wind and a sand filled driving rain.
Within about 2 minutes I was wearing more make up than she was.
And because the Pagoda they were getting married in was completely open to the elements,
the 16 or so guests all huddled together from the rain, looked like they were getting married in a football huddle.

My heart (well, swinging pebble) almost went out to her.

Time for another drink.

On the third day I was in the pool at the swim bar.
Some nasty American (even though I'd already had 5 or 6 beers, some sparkling Pinot and the odd Banana Daquiri) forced me to drink 7 or 8 Tequila shots.
Man I was rocking.

Oh and another thing..the pool had about 50 or so people crowded around the bar.
Lots of them would finish their beer, dip their empty beer mugs in the pool to swill them out then hand them over to the barman to fill them back up.

THE DIRTY BASTARDS.......HOW un-hygienic!
some people have NO consideration for other pool users.

Besides.

I'd just peed in there.

Notes on my latest holiday.

''Just look at the arrogant handsome little bastard'' God said to Gabriel.
''Sitting there is the sun like that, flashing off those glorious knobbly knees and that magnificent pot belly,
posing with that superb 'inner' tummy button which I so beautifully crafted, HE'S FLAUNTING IT! the whole thing makes me sick''

''Is that why you've set your host of female Mosquitoes to feed on his stunning and wrinkled body every second Lord?'' replied Gabriel
''Is that the reason you've rain lashed everywhere from his sexy thinning hair to his ankles?, is that why you set off Mexican earthquakes all around him?''

''Oh not at all'' said God ''I just hate the little shit''

On the fourth day of my holiday, I woke up in bed doing an helicopter impression.
What the hell is going on? I pondered, as I tried to stop myself being sick while I focussed three of my eyes on the bedroom ceiling fan.

Eventually calming myself down, my mind drifted back to the night before.
It CAN'T be the drink I thought, I'd barely had more than 6 beers, a few cognacs, a couple of Banana Mamas, the odd Tequila or two, a single Tanqueray and a few glasses of Pinot.
Why I was almost on the wagon!

Oh sweet Jesus..I've got an ear infection.

It was at that exact moment, that I thought I heard a faint Godly snigger...
Swimming in that urine infested pool the day before, I realised I'd caught something...oh and it bloody hurt too!

Now luckily (and this is true) as I usually catch everything from Beri-beri to Lassa fever, I make a habit of when I'm in Mexico to buy Penicillin as soon as I arrive.
And in the drawer right next to me, I'd got 60 of the buggers ($14.US from all good drug stores)

Throwing one down, I lay back on my bed to continue my helicopter ride.
As it was still dark outside, I plugged in my earphones to listen to the soothing sounds of Val Doonican singing Iron Maiden..ahhh bliss.
Except I discovered I was now almost deaf in my right ear.

And my right ear was my good one.. 
What nearly all of you don't know is that God in a previous attempt to kill me, tried to blow it out with 13lbs of Gelignite, luckily my huge willy protected me.

No, this is no good, I need to get up, my luminous watch (which will no doubt kill me one day from radiation) was glowing faintly in the darkness.
6.05am it said.

Time for a shower, brush my pegs, count up my latest Mosquito bites (8 overnight) then go down to the Beach to see which latest ship has been shipwrecked on the sand.
Oh that's nice.
Another bloody power cut!

Waiting until it got light enough to see, I showered, brushed my pegs and put on a damp pair of shorts (nothing dries in the Caribbean) then I wobbled briskly down to the sea.
All the early morning sunrisers where there.

Most were drinking sparkling prosecco and within a minute I had joined them.

There is something incredibly beautiful about watching the sun rise in the morning, it really is my favourite time of day.
For me sunsets are sad times, they speak of endings, of days gone by...they whisper of people I no longer share my life with..

Sunrise? well that holds promise and possibilities, it holds the courage of the early morning.
I love it.

And as I looked at the rising edge of another beautiful day...I realised something..

My ear didn't half bloody hurt.

As I looked into her eyes across the candlelit table, I felt my knees go weak, my heart began to race and my stomach turned to butterflies.

That's when I realised.
I'd drugged the wrong glass.

People are being terrorised by pranksters who dress up as CLOWNS and jump out from behind bushes in a bizarre new craze.

Six similar incidents have been reported to police in less than a week. There have been further reports of clowns chasing people down the street.

Oh please do....jump out from behind a tree at me and see what happens..
I assure you right now one of us wont be laughing.

I knew I would be lost if her hand should slip from mine... 
And I would count each kiss not taken 
As one less heartbeat I would own.

She is the one who makes the words flow, 
From her touch, to my hand, 
to a pen, then to life.

I collect comics..ok, I'll give you 5 minutes to settle down and stop laughing....
Done? good.

I've read Superman and Batman since the late 50's, then around 1961, Marvel became available over in the UK and I was suddenly opened up to Thor, Spider-man and the incredible X-men.
In fact my dear departed mater even bought me one of the first ever Thor comics, worth literally thousands, yet discarded and dumped in the annals of our old Miskin, my childhood and history.

Not only did I love the stories, I also loved all the advertisements and the outrageous lies they promised as a reward for selling a particular product.

And one of my favourites was 'Sell Grit'!
Depending how many of this terribly named magazine you sold, you could claim prizes from an archery set to a bike, right up to an Apache attack helicopter..I remember gazing longingly at all these wonderful things I so desperately wanted, that I knew would never be mine.
(Well I finally got the attack helicopter but that's another story)

Also was the Charles Atlas ad.
'The insult that made a man out of Mac'
It showed some skinny little guy having sand kicked in his face by a beach bully, as 'Mac' pledges his revenge, his girlfriend replies 'Oh don't let it bother you LITTLE boy'
...sniff...that insult still hurts..

So he sends off for a Charles Atlas course, 2 hours later he's back on the beach, built like Goliath and punches the bully in the face..
His girlfriend is then on his arm like a draping leech, saying 'Oh Mac, you ARE a real man after all'!
Two things here, one, I'd have buggered the unfaithful bitch off, secondly, I actually DID sent off for that course but failed miserably when I didn't have the strength to tear off the wrapping .

Ahh Sea Monkeys! GROW YOUR OWN SEA MONKEYS!
A great picture showed a family of Sea Monkeys living in a CASTLE in a large tank of water, the monkeys had smiles, teeth, muscles, and strategically placed tails to preserve their modesty..
They were described as funny, entertaining, trainable, eager to please.
They were also nothing like that..
Microscopic specks of shit that floated in murky green water and died on average, 8 minutes after you bought them..
You could have had more prolonged fun out of a fart.

How I longed for X-ray specs! it showed a young lad looking at the underwear of women and the ad swore that all the mysteries of the female body could be uncovered for a dollar.
I actually tried some on when I was around 30, all the bastards do is turn everything blurry..
Time and nature gave me exactly the same vision 28 years later.
And no, you can't see naked female bodies through their clothing...sigh.

The 'Hypno coin' con..
Hypnotize gorgeous nubile females into doing your every bidding and once more, a magic dollar was the answer to your every dream.
Except of course, it was yet another comic book scam.
I'm not sure if I used that 'Hypno coin' properly but I do recall having a randy Rottweiler following me around trying to shag my left leg for a fortnight. 
Worth every cent I say.

BUILD your own Lunar module for only 10 cents!..the fact it cost NASA almost $15 billion back in the 60's might be a bit of a giveaway...but hey, this one I liked, it traded on a young boys imagination, never a bad thing in my opinion..
Plus (and on my Budgies life this is true) fully fueled I got just past 90,000 ft and I swear I could see the curvature of the earth.
I did panic though when the cardboard in the rocket started to get uncomfortably hot during re-entry.

'Be taller! grow up to six inches over night..been there, done that...hee-hee.
Actually, if you were mug enough to send off for this, at best you got little inserts you put into your shoe, or pathetic advice like 'stand taller'...... huh?
Or at the very worst those giant boots that Polio victims had grown out of.
Scamming bastards!

But I look back on all those outrageous claims fondly, I was a child and I was in my salad days.
I was green in judgement and cold in blood.
They were a part of who and what I am..worse still, the scams of today lack their breath taking nerve and imagination..their like will never be seen again..
ok..I'm just off to build my own Polaris nuclear sub...at $6.98c it's a damned bargain.

Years ago when people cared about me, I used to get birthday cards, phone calls, I used to have friends drop in on me to see how I was if I'd been ill.
And now...with JUST days to go before my next birthday, a truth has just finally hit me.

Besides all of the above falling away and fading into the mists of time. 
I've just realised something else too.

I see the US is government is at it again.

Once again offering unasked for advice on whether or not we should vote to stay in the EU.

Now considering that Europe passes countless laws that we have no say over as to whether can follow them or not, it also imposes taxes and other costs we have no real power to vote against either.

Bleached on the Sun warmed steps of my home, 
Buttered toast dripping on my fingers.

I want one more summer here to be rich. 
To see the Cherry tree in my garden and idle away my day, 
As its leaves grow full and lusty... 
Green in the sunlight but black as crows' wings 
in the night.

For Polo. 1977-1991.

And what of birth? the old man said...
The first a baby does is cry,
And the innocence of early years,
So swiftly fades away to die.

And what of age? the young man said.
I'm strong and fit and in my prime
But those withered limbs will soon be mine..
(So soon be mine)

And what of love ? the cynic said,
Love will only bring you pain
With love comes loss and deep despair...
And drives the strongest man insane..

And what of life? the mourner said,
Where once a wild and raging wind,
Had fanned a light (a light now dead)
Perhaps the voice that spoke within...
Knows silence now and cannot sin.

And what of words? the Poet wrote,
And struggled in his rhymes to say,
Of the things I know and truly fear..
The past, tomorrow and today.

And what of Dogs? the 'owner' said
A friend I've known and long adored..
Has left me now and broke my heart..
Her loss cuts deeper than a sword.

Did you know those poor gullible primitives in Africa believe that Ebola isn't an illness but it's actually a curse placed upon them by evil spirits?

You'd think this being the 21st century they'd be able to see through all that mumbo jumbo and superstition like we can in the West.

I'll say a prayer for them at mass on Sunday.

The power of a kiss.

A man was in the desert with a camel who wouldn't move,
He's tried everything....
Just then a passing nomad wanders over and says "Allow me!"
He goes behind the camel..

A new report says that the average person has sex 89 times a year.

God in Heaven! I'm going to be busy in December.

I love the new John Lewis ad.

It portrays a young girl whooping it up, all excited as Christmas approaches. She takes out her telescope and points it up at the moon and to her amazement she sees an old sad man who walks out of his shack and gazes up in deep loneliness at the distant planet earth.

Next thing you know, HE has a telescope land at his feet which was a present off the little girl.

So NOW the poor old bugger can not only see everyone have a great time, he can now see how lonely and sad he really is.

Which if you think about it, reflects life in modern Britain today.

All over the country there are old aged pensioners living exactly like that lonely old man on the moon,

They don't have telescopes though, they just have windows that they can stare out of in the hope of human contact.

All the time knowing that when darkness falls, they have to close their curtains for the night and shut out one more day on the hope of human interaction.

So how about this Christmas, instead of looking up at the moon, knock a neighbours door instead...a door of a house where someone lives alone....sit with them a while, listen to their story, if you wish, tell them yours..

Go on, give it a shot.
Make someone's Christmas.
This year.

Footnote.

I do not believe for a second John Lewis could deliver a Christmas gift to the moon.
Not when it took the bastards 6 weeks to deliver a bedside lamp to Wolverhampton last year

I've just seen a clip on Sky TV released by Hamas showing a house that had been bombed by Israeli jets.

I have to say even though it obliterated bricks and concrete, those children's toys and that little kiddies blow up ball managed to survive.
How lucky is that?

Then I saw a little girl.

I was looking through the photos on my webpage thinking which ones should I delete.. I'd also got a page open on yahoo.

There was a story about a young girl going through all the horrors of Chemo therapy and Radiation treatment.

THE heartbroken mum of a Birmingham toddler knocked down outside his house as he rushed to greet his granddad has declared: “He was my world”.

Grieving Razwana Hamid from Aston spoke as she opened her family’s photo album to reveal previously unseen images of two-year-old Muhammad Zakariyya.

She said: ““Every day is a battle for me.
“He was just the most amazing little boy – he was my world.

Oscar Pistorious's family are said to be shocked and disappointed he will not be home on Friday.

A bit like Riva Steenkamp's family must be feeling about their daughter then.

Sir John Chilcot, the chairman of the inquiry into the invasion of Iraq is preparing to tell the families of the soldiers killed that he understands the "anguish" they are suffering

He expects to have the apology ready sometime within the next 8 years.

The Jail in which Boston bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev is incarcerated, has been likened to ''living in hell'' by former wardens and rights activists.

Good...now he can share the same living conditions of the families who lost their loved ones.

To be honest I don't really care whether or not you hurt yourself when you fell from heaven

I Just want you in the filthiest possible way, to show me why you got kicked out of there

There is only one proper way for a professional soldier to die: The last bullet of the last battle of the last war.

I went paint balling with my daughter and her boyfriend yesterday.
From 8.30 in the morning until 4 pm, I was crawling through mud, under trees, across ditches in an heroic effort to shoot the enemy before they shot me.

I'd never done it before.
Purchasing 500 paint balls, an upgraded rifle and wearing full camo outfit, at 9 30 am, I was listening to an instructor tell me all about the rules of the game.
For starters never under any circumstances remove your face mask and goggles, he said the paint balls leave the gun at 200ft a second and have a range of over 100 yards.

He then split us up into teams.
Luckily enough my daughter and Jake were on my side, game or not, I could never shoot my daughter under any circumstances..

They split us up into sides and the first battle began.
I think I crawled about 50 yards to get where I wanted to be, and there he was lying in a ditch 50ft in front of me.. my first paint balling game ever, my first ever ''enemy target''
He'd killed about 3 of our side and I lined up my gun on the right hand side of his body..
Those paint balls really do come at you with a whack., they leave large red marks, bruises and can even leave you bleeding.

He didn't even know I was there as my first shot slammed into his ribs and as he was hit, he let out a really loud squeal...now I've never liked a squealer so my second shot his him again two inches below the first so up he jumped hand in the air to signify he was out the battle.
My first ever game, my first ever kill and all I'd fired was 6 paint balls, 4 to practice the range and accuracy of the rifle, the next two to kill him.
Then the first battle finished.
15 minutes gone and I was soaked in sweat..... I was buzzing.

Game two...I was only in it about 5 minutes when someone using a bloody snipers rifle and way out of my range, shot me in the hip, that raised a huge lump and marked in yellow paint, that was me gone...also I was sweating so much my goggles were that steamed up I could barely see a thing..and you cannot, under any circumstances take them off to clean them.

Game three,

Those guns fire well over 100 yards and STILL hurt when they hit you.
My daughter Nicki is walking 5ft away on my life hand side.

200ft a second they fire..so it took around 1/40th of a second for Nicki to accidently shoot her dear old Dad in the left foot as we walked along..God in heaven the pain! shot by my own daughter...even as I write this my foot is bruised and still very tender

I killed 5 people that game without a single hit from the other team.

Game four

Both teams had to take a cave..
Dodging through the canyon I thought to myself I'm never going to get in there, so finding a very close place out of enemy sight, I just covered the cave entrance from around 15ft .
My trouble is I get bored easily..
All the time I'm thinking..15ft, I can do that..but I knew the enemy is watching close by..
And I'm thinking ..where would I be hiding if I were them...only one place.....

And damn...in trying to get there..I met ME.
in exactly the same spot I would be if I'd got there first, was a sneaky enemy so I turned and ran for the cave..I never had a chance as he unloaded on me from less than 10ft away
hit twice under the armpit, in the thigh, my bum, and my left shoulder, I was shot to bits.
I'm bruised to shit this morning.

Last game..
I found myself a fantastic spot and settled in waiting for them to come..
Firing through a pile of logs I found a nice little 6 inch hole to shoot through..
I easily hit another 5 or 6 of them, even the Marshall said to me ''Well done''
I'm looking down at my ammunition holder...one shot left and I let it off hitting a guy in his side..

That was it, for me, the game, the war... was over..
It was then as I slightly raised my head to lift my left hand to take myself out of the game I felt something smack me hard right on the top..
I'm shot.. Jeez...it hurts..

George C Patton once said ''There's only one proper way for a professional soldier to die: the last bullet of the last battle of the last war...''
I had a great time.

''If you seek his monument, look around you''.
The above was written about Sir Christopher Wren.

It obviously refers to St Paul's Cathedral, one of the world's iconic sites and a lasting monument to his greatness.

11.34: Arrived at crime scene

11.34: Examined body. Signs of a struggle

11.34: Found murder weapon in drain

I think the name was a spelling mistake..
Athol? Arsehole more like..

This is the first time in 30 years I’ve stopped in a hotel room that had no en-suite …
every time I went for a Pee, by the time I’d walked down three flights of stairs and back up to my room, I needed another one.

Also the bed smelled of sweat…unfortunately for me, it wasn’t mine.

And how can I say this? Ahh yes…the bed sheets were slightly grubby…well I SAY SLIGHTLY, the truth is they looked like they’d used them to carry out those trapped Chilean coal miners.
Honking would be closer to the mark.

While we’re at it, in the Midlands, hotels usually offer tea making facilities..
They do this by supplying a kettle, a few tea bags and those little cartons of milk..
Not a small pile of kindling, three sticks of wood and a lump of coal.
It took 4 hours to make a decent drink…plus the smoke alarm kept going off.

The bed was…shall we say…testing? I’ve had more comfortable moments riding to work bare arsed on a porcupine
When I got up the next morning I was pebble dashed all over.

I remember about 3am and being unable to sleep, lying there, looking up at the stars.
Then I got out my hotel brochure and I have to agree, they promised nothing about me having a roof over my bed.

There WAS a sink in the room…again I SAY sink…

It looked more like giant catering bean tin to me with a plug in it, but then again, what would I know…by the way…it was blocked..
To be blunt there was that much hair in it, it looked like the previous occupant had died of Alopecia.

The shower on the floor below me….sigh
How was I to know it would be so old, so cold and so under powered, it would have been quicker to have a Ferret lick me clean?
I’ve sweated more moisture making snowmen, than that bloody thing turned out.

The breakfast was nice…well it would have been if I’d just arrived from Somalia without eating for 6 weeks.
It was that small.. an Irish republican mouse, ending a 2 months hunger strike wouldn’t have bothered getting up out of bed to eat it.

And the cook even had to the nerve to ask me how I found the bacon…I so desperately wanted to reply ‘’I moved a small baked bean and there it was’’

The man even asked me if I would be posting anything on Trip advisor about my stay..
Silly, silly man..he should be very careful what he asked for.

And why didn’t you warn me Geordies still use the bartering system?
Do you KNOW how hard it was when I came to pay for my room, to find one baby goat and three small Chickens?

I remember the years I slept naked in summer
Half covered by a sheet.
I'd be waiting to see what you would do,
When you came to bed and saw me there.

A new Birmingham MP has employed her husband as her office manager, funded by taxpayers.
Jess Phillips (Lab), MP for Birmingham Yardley, pays husband Tom Phillips to be her Constituency Support Manager from her Parliamentary allowance.

Mrs Phillips said: “I am in the process of setting up my office and I need somebody I can trust to do that.

“He has all the skills I need to do that.

A couple from Scunthorpe have won the euromillions lottery twice and plan to move to London.

Good luck to them.
They should almost have enough now for a deposit on a house.

I've just had my fourth update about the polar bear I adopted last year.
You think they'd have fed her by now and got her off that lump of ice.

I think Collarspace should have a limit on the number of times people can change their relationship status.

After five, it ought to default permanently to 'unstable'

An arranged marriage groom was so upset when he saw his bride for the first time that he tried to drown himself.

Kang Hu, 33, stunned guests, family and friends when he apologised to bride Na Sung, 30, telling her that she was 'too ugly' to marry.

You petty, petty bastard, I don't know you Mr Hu and for that I will be eternally grateful, but I do know for certain who the ugly one would have been in that relationship.

The first time I realised I was ugly was at my sixth birthday party.

It was when our local paedophile gently took my hand and said we could never be more than friends

God in heaven,  I'm a sad bastard.

I'm ...sigh... watching Jeremy Kyle on the TV right now.

And I'm thinking, if the collective name for a group of Lions is a ''Pride''
and you can have a ''School'' of fish.

What's the name for a bunch of Jeremy Kyle participants...a ''Tooth''?

There are so many Romanian, Bulgarians and Somali's over here now,  That England is beginning to feel less and less like Poland every day.

I flopped my willy out in front of a girl last night and said, "Do you like my new piercing?"
After a few seconds she said, "Where's the piercing then?"

I said, "In my ear."

A couple arrested as they attempted to stage a bogus wedding have been jailed for immigration offences - after the would-be groom was unable to remember his bride's name.

That's ok.
Men often forget they have a wife when talking to a potential girlfriend.

You can tell the sex of an ant by dropping it into a jug of water.

If it sinks: girl ant
If it floats: boy ant

A 34-year-old man says he has been told by doctors he has only 100 orgasms left until he loses the ability to have sex forever.

The American man, known only as RLS, said he had been diagnosed with a rare condition called ‘ideopathic fibrosis of the corpora cavernosa’ which means each time he ejaculates a layer of scar tissue forms.

I have a solution to this.

I suggest he gets married, then those remaining 100 orgasms should easily last him the rest of his life.

A 911 call has been released of the moment two members of Bobby Brown's family got into a fight at Bobby Brown's 46th birthday party in Atlanta.

The fight happened last Thursday - five days after Bobbi Kristina was found unresponsive face down in a bath tub.

Ahh yes, nothing better than throwing a good birthday party whilst your daughter lies dying in hospital is there?

You learn something new every day.

Unless of course you go to a faith school.

I've just watched a tv clip about America's oldest woman, she was born in Tennessee in 1897.
Which makes the old dear almost (or)117 years old.
What a terrible tragedy.

Living so long in my opinion would be a terrible thing.
Given an average run, I'm now in the early evening of my life.
That woman has lived almost twice that.

She has seen her children die of old age, her husband is nothing but a fading memory.
And probably every single school friend, boyfriend, colleague is now dead and buried.
Time has removed from her, every single person who has ever truly mattered.

I watched her sitting in her chair..
She showed no sign of knowing where she is, what she is or who she is.
That isn't life, that is simply existence. 

I'm almost half her years.
She was my age in 1957.
She was my age when Queen Elizabeth held her coronation. 
She was almost 70 when the Beatles bloomed across the stage..
She was 72 when man first walked upon the moon.

I think one of the great tragedies in life isn't to not believe in God.
But for God not to believe in you..

China said in the week that Britain is just an aging small country that is now only fit for Tourists and students..
I beg to differ..

Yes Britain may be a small country, but to quote Hugh Grant in Love Actually,

'We may be a small country, but we're a great one too, a country of Shakespeare, Churchill, the Beatles, Sean Connery, Harry Potter, David Beckhams right foot, David Beckhams left foot'

Oh and 200 Trident Nuclear missiles you Chinese bastards.

Schoolchildren should be learning a foreign language such as Chinese, rather than French or German, Prime Minister David Cameron has said.

I agree David...all children should know a foreign language so I've got a suggestion.
How about teaching 1 in 6 of the schoolchildren already here...er...English?

After the breaking news of his death, well wishers gathered outside Nelson Mandela's house singing and dancing celebrating his life.

So how come when I did it after my mother in-law died, I was a heartless bastard?

In the fading of my faith,
I ask how you became my church,
the true religion of my heart.

The hurt of you was all I had,
all I could hold close, believing
in your return, our resurrection.

I've not renounced this priesthood, no,
not yet; I'll watch the failing flame
of each candle lit to you.

I'll watch them fade, one by one,
and only then shall I turn from
your darkened altar, resurrected,

for all beginnings need an end.

Considering I'm a very practical person, that I'm good with my hands and able to fit anything from full central heating to a car alternator, I am, without any fear whatsoever of losing my title, the worlds worst cook.

You could lay before me the finest food ingredients, stand me in front of a state of the art cooker,  you could throw in mankinds finest spices and the country's best selling cookery books and....sigh.. you'd still end up with roast water for breakfast.

And it's not like I don't try.

But somewhere hidden in the winding alleyways of my peanut brain, is a little fuse breaker that instantly blows, the second I even try to fry a custard..

Now, I used to have a neighbour called Heather...besides fancying the pants off her, she was amazing in the kitchen.

I swear to god you only needed to give her the top off a carrot, 3 ounces of lard and a small pickled onion and 90 minutes later you'd be sitting down to eat a full roast beef dinner.

It didn't matter what she had to work with, Heather could conjure up everything from anything.

And it tasted bloody lovely.

They say the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach, no it isn't, it's with a huge carving knife but if Heather was the one wielding the blade she'd have probably diced some carrots on the way in.

Well anyway, Heather was happily married (to a 600 pound husband as I recall) so I had to do what a lousy cook always has to do,
I took up eating out.

And I do too, I've eaten out in some of the nicest restaurants I've ever seen, and I've done it in some of the most beautiful places in the world, I've dined on the Champs Elysee in Paris,, I've eaten out in New York, San Francisco and London.
I've lingered on the local fayre of Egypt and Morocco, I've eaten Greek in Greece and French in France.

But what I'd give for just two things..two little things

To be able to cook my own food, to make an Indian meal just as I like it...and to have full oral sex off Heather.

Things I hate.

Girly and damp, limp handshakes..when you shake a mans hand and it feels like you have half a Haddock in it.

Women at the front of a checkout who when the total comes up, you see a look of surprise come across their face as they realise, yes, you DO have to pay for it..and only then rummage through their handbag to find the cash.

Bins not emptied properly.

Drivers whose brains work at the same speed as a heavily drugged snail.

You wait hours at the junction behind them, while they carefully scan the distance with high powered binoculars to see if there is any sign of another car coming in this lifetime...just **** GO!

Woman who ask you to comment on their hair, clothes, figure etc, knowing whatever answer you give is the wrong one.

People who follow me around the internet (which DOES take some effort) then complain about what I write..get a life will you.

If you dont like what I wriite about, dont read it..'simples' Vgghhtt.

Waiting for a Petrol station operator to press the 'ok' button so my pump will start....take YOUR time why dont you? after all you're in a nice warm kiosk and I'm outside with the rain dripping off my testicles.

Computers that crash, taking 30 minutes work with them.

Women who get court orders against me just because I'm stalking them.

Airline check ins where you have to suspend all humour until you get off the plane at the other end.

Talking to call centres 5000 miles away..yes I know learning Gujarati would ease the whole experience but hey..I'm in England, cant you just learn English instead?

Police officers who stop you then talk to you like you're a 5 year old, worse still, you have to listen and smile politely to even stand a hope of getting away with it...then the bastards still do you.

Safety cameras on dual carriageways and motorways...not many school crossings likely to be found there, is there ?

Standing in the carvery at the Pretty Pigs pub and knowing the 'Roasties' are going to run out just as I get there.

Walking into a chip shop at lunchtime and the guy saying..'They'll be ready in 5 minutes'  BASTARDS! people coming in for chips at lunchtime is a shock then? have the buggers ready!

Dogs that sniff my bum..I swear to god the next one that does it, I'm going to roll him on his back, pin his paws down and say 'My turn now brown eyes'

Phone numbers that say if you want thingy, press one, doo-dah,press two and so on, and when you do that, you have 30 other options on the next part.

And finally (and I'm turning into Victor Meldrew here)

People who just walk straight past without even a nod when you've stood there for 10 seconds holding the door open..rude bastards...

I took a girl back to my place last night.

As we got into the bedroom I said, "I'm going to make love to you like no man has ever done before."

"Oh really?" she smiled.

I said, "Yes, now put this chicken costume on."

Why on earth in 2013, when there are machines which can look through skin and see bones, when there are machines which keep you alive when your brain and heart have stopped.

When there are even machines that can tell you who your parents are with a single drop of spit and so on, but if I need my prostate checked, another man sticks his finger up my bum and wriggles it about a bit.

November 11th.

I was your brother and your Uncle.

Your Mother and your Dad.

I was your sister and your cousin.

Through the good times and the bad.

I saw service in the Army,

The Air force and Marines.

I was a million unknown faces.

In a million different scenes.

I fought so you'd know liberty.

As I watched my comrades die.

I never sought to question it,

nor ask the reason why.

I fought on hills and streets and mountains,

As I strived to keep you free.

Now all I ask is once a year,

That you remember me.

I read over the weekend that the deadly black widow has arrived in Britain.

Oh hang on, CM have just contacted me...it seems I have to refer to it as a recently bereaved Arachnid of ethnic minority origin.

Goverment Advice to MP's and Cabinet Mnisters......
if your home is in the path of the storm, head to your second or third home for safety.

Don't forget to claim travel expenses.

Well they've done it again. Weather forecasters have got it all completely wrong about high winds battering England. Oh sure, they got it right about the South coast. The rest, just like 50% of the time if you had reversed their forecast, you still had an equal chance of getting the weather correct.

People treat our forecasts as a bit of a joke...except it isn't, on the words of these idiots we cancel planes, trains, shut down schools, we stop ferries, we completely disrupt our way of life and what do those buggers do? they conveniently skip over it,

I live on a hill....it gets windy at the best of times.

Last night I tied all my rubbish bins together to stop them blowing away..

I superglued my cat's feet to the decking, I threw all my leaves on to my neighbours garden knowing they'd all blow away and I got all my washing in off the line to stop my knickers ending up in Scotland...and for what?

I've known gustier Mouse's farts than this so called hurricane that was due to hit us. I think at very worst I had my eyelashes ruffled. It took me an hour to untie my bins. I had to bag 15,000 of my leaves still on my neighbours garden..

Bugger the cats..they can stay there.
Thank God I managed to hang on to Sandra knickers.

I've just read that Planet earth is $4 Trillion dollars in debt..
I might only be a raggy arsed Plumber, but I'm confused here..
Exactly what other planet are we in debt to?

I was talking with my daughter and we were discussing  the things we need to do to her new house.
As we were chatting away she was ticking off the list of things she would like upgraded.
Her ‘new’ home was built in the 19th century, it still had an outdoor toilet, which for nostalgia alone, I wanted to leave in.

Of course it  already had an upstairs bathroom, but the contrast between what she expects as minimal and the first two homes I lived in are amazing.

 

She wants Central heating fitted, a new Combination Boiler, radiators in every room etc,

She also needs a complete new kitchen, again no problem, she wants the house completely re-wired including Sky cables run in each room.

Throw in a complete re-plaster, full double glazing and we’re almost done.

None of which apart from the plastering is that difficult,  it’s what I do (or did) for a living.

Now like I said, these are her minimum requirements.

 

 

MY first home had a single coal fire, my second one had two, the kitchen fire being a black leaded range.

It was around the range we did most of our living, I remember a kettle permanently boiling away on the plate and Mom heating the iron on the fire then holding it close to her face to check the temperature.

As we couldn’t always afford to keep the fire burning overnight, that often meant shivering in the winter, snot hanging like icicles as we tried to get it going.

 

Then there was our bathroom, this was a worn tin bath in front of the fire.
There was also a pecking order to using it.

The bathing cast (in order of importance) was my two older sisters, then my older brothers and after that,  me and my younger sister and brother, often the last three of us would all be in there together, the water would be cold, grey, murky and with the help of a two year old brother, at least 61% urine.

 

We had no hot water in those houses either, we simply filled a bowl and again, everyone washed in it, sometimes my dad even used it to shave in before I got to have a go.
If I didn’t wipe myself off properly, all the whiskers Dad shaved off stuck to me and I went to school looking like Desperate Dan.

 

The outside toilet was fun, especially in Winter, you all know what happens when you lick a lamp post with ice on it.

Many’s the time Mom had to pour warm water on my willy to free me from the metal flush pipe.

Hey, I was young and innocent.

 

The bedrooms were freezing, the times ice formed on the inside of the windows was no one’s business, and all we had to keep warm were nits and army blankets, and when it really got cold?

Mom threw coats and clothing on the bed.
I’ve lost count of the time I ‘accidently’woke up wearing Pink directoire knickers.

 

Electric Plug sockets were at a minimum, good job really as we had bugger all to plug in, no telly, no Fridge, no toasters (a three pronged wire fork did all that) there was no need for computer points, phone sockets or washing machines, I reckon we only needed three power points for the whole house.
In fact apart from the Radio and later on, a shitty little TV, I'm struggling to work out where we'd have used the other one.
A 'Hoover' wasn't required, not unless lino and floorboards required vacuuming and a washing machine was two hands and a mangle.

As I recall we still took pride in wall papering...as long as you didn't mind living in a house a drunken Salvador Dali had decorated.
One thing that sticks in my mind from back then was you had to tear off the side borders of the wallpaper before you could use it.
Took bloody ages. 

And here I am, comparing those far off days with the expectations of a modern woman.
And I find yesterday wins every time.
Not because our lives aren't any better today.
These days I have all I need to make life easier, I have computers, holidays abroad, better health care, I have large multi channel flat screen TV's.
I have cars, a Hoover that works, a washing machine, a power shower.
I have central heating, I have better food, better clothes and above all of thse things two wonderful grandchildren and two lovely daughters.

So why is there always that longing? why is there always that space that can never be filled?
It's easy..that space is a hole left by the loss of those I have loved and I know that in the darkness, when the night whispers the truth, that no shiney new home, however well equipped, could ever
fill in the gap that is..
The story of my days.

Beside me in the darkness, you said
you couldn’t see us together

in the long run.
If ever you should have lied,
it was then.

For it was at that moment,
I began to leave.

Jesus Christ I'm getting old...

I sent off my CV for a new job yesterday and they sent me back a Parker pen just for applying.

"There is a forgotten, nay almost forbidden word, which means more to me than any other. That word is ENGLAND." - Sir Winston Churchill

If Muslims really do love death more than I love life.
How come I'm always behind them in the Doctors?

As a very wealthy Nigerian.

I'm finding it extremely hard to give away my millions.

Forgive yourself.
Your hands could not remove her pain.
No one could but God,
And He had already spoken.

They don't tell you that in years, you'll forget
And her face and voice becomes a blurred lie.
But hey, you're only human,
And time is a great eraser of hurting things.

But you meant well and did fine,
You took the treatments,
Just as well as she did.
And you held her hand,
Until it was time to let go.

So forgive yourself,
It's not like your hands could ever remove her pain
but they can still help you take away your own.
Hug yourself gently on those lonely nights.

Some women have absolutely no idea how to chat me up..

As if "Piss off you bald headed, midget loser" is going to get me into bed with them.

Former US president Bill Clinton has praised Seamus Heaney as "our finest poet of the rhythms of ordinary lives"

Really? in my opinion,

I find Poets are all mostly gay,
They sit in their bed, writing drivel it's said,
And do little or nothing each day.

Either women are all lying buggers or by some miracle...

...they meet each new boyfriend in ascending penis size.

For those with poor eyesight, I am now also posting in Braille.

 .::. ::. :: :.: ..:.::. ::. .. ::: .:.:. :: :..

Sky news Tuesday night..

British Prime Minister David Cameron is standing up in front of Parliament saying how proud he is that the British government have aided in Libya, so that the Libyan people have freedom to choose their own political future.

Two days ago a poll in the Sunday Times stated that 66% of all British people want a vote on our European membership.

Yet Cameron forced his Government to vote against giving us that choice

And you call that government by the will of people?

Cameron you're a tosser.

Nimco Hassan Ibrahim an illegal immigrant and mother of 4 who has no right to be in this country, has been awarded a larger rent free Council house and a £1000 per month in benefits, this order was granted by the court of 'Human rights'

Mrs Ibrahim stated in the Daily Mail that she 'deserves to be given a new home as her current one is too small for her growing family'

Meanwhile..

When voted out of Parliament the average MP receives a £64,000 pay off to help them readjust to the reality of private life...alongside of course, a really gold plated pension.

Meanwhile..

The family of a British Soldier killed in Afghanistan have been ordered to repay £433 because he had the nerve to be shot dead with 10 days left in the month that he had been paid for.

Jordon Bancroft died a hero in the service of his country.

He was 25 years old.

Meanwhile..

What a f***** British disgrace.

When I die, and wake to find myself
in the big shopping centre in the sky,
this time I will say Yes,
to the young lady with the angelic
smile and clipboard when she
asks if I have the time
to take a survey,

and we'll sit on a bench together
in a patch of soft sunlight beside
a wishing well as she takes out
her pen and begins ..

Did you find everything you wanted?
No, but I learned that the search
was more valuable than the finding...


Were the hours acceptable?
Oh yes, though some were lonely and long,
but they were all filled with something
even when I thought there was nothing
happening at all...

Would you recommend Life to others?
Yes, because
there's nothing else like it, with its
highs and lows, its wins and losses,
the abstract sunrises and watercolor
sunsets... I'd do it all again if I could.

And as she smiles and
rises from the bench,
thanking me for my patience,
I nod and say it was fine
as I now have all the time
in the world, and though once,
I would have rushed
with a hundred thoughts on my mind,

Now, with a smile,
I rise and walk over to a mother,
I 've loved and missed for over 40 years
And ask her for the first time in my life,
what she had bought for herself.

I was clearing out my late German Grandfather's closet and decided to give all his old clothes to the local charity shop.

I handed over the bag of clothes to the shop assistant who was rummaging through it when a horrified expression formed on her face.

"How dare you bring this uniform in to my shop" she exclaimed angrily. "This is a symbol of pain, shame and humiliation."

Hugely embarrassed at this turn of events, I quickly took back the bag.

"I'm truly sorry" I said. "I had no idea he was a Yankees fan."

It appears that my profile has just been viewed by around 50 twenty three year old females and all from America.

Well two things here,

First of all, a '23' year old doesn't do it for me, I'm a father of two twenty something girls and although I'm perverted I not a pervert, secondly at least I know all the American states now even Delaware has viewed me.

Being a natural beauty and incredibly handsome, I don't need to do much to ensure I turn a lady's head.

So I'm really writing this for you 'little people'

Every day I see people pursueing beauty treatments in a vain effort to keep up with my god like good looks.

Dont!...take for instance sun beds..

Sun beds can cause skin cancer.

You pale and pinky Brits seem to think a darker skin makes you more attractive..well yes it can, but it can also wrinkle you like a prune and it DOES age you, besides giving you malignant malinoma..so...stay pink, stay pale, stay safe.

(oh and if you are a warty wrinkled up old sausage, also stay away from me)

ALL women want to taste my luscious lips and there is obviously a very long queue..

However did you know lots of lippy contains lead?

Now I don't mind you killing yourself but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you kill me off with lead poisoning.

From now on ladies it's strictly tongues ok?

Tattoos..oh I like some tattoos...on a bloody Maori! but generally, when I turn a woman over and see '5132' in Japanese lettering on her back, the last thing I want to hear is that's the number of men she's slept with.

Tattoos contain ink and poisons..which means you can also catch HIV, Hepatitis and TB.

And if I want to read something interesting I'll buy a book ok?

For a Hollywood glow some women use Peptol Bismol...dont know it? of course you do...

It's a facial scrub that contains a mild acid..ok, if you thinking looking like the Elephant mans backside is appealing, go ahead, as for me? nah..

I just wish more women would realise that you're just beautiful as you are..it doesn't matter if you think your bum is too big, or your boobs are hanging a little low, it's the look in your eye or smile on your face that gets me..

And what's the point of being all made up, a beautiful suntan, a discreet little tattoo on the small of your back and a 'natural' Hollywood glow if you're dead?

Dead people don't win hearts...living people do.

I was watching Sky news last night before I went to bed and it's the first thing I put on each morning too.

So there I was, toast in hand, listening to this forecaster giving me the upcoming weather reports.

Sure enough, as usual, she dedicated 3.5 micro seconds to the British weather, of which, 3 of those were spent on London.

And THEN the beady witch announced that strong winds were coming up from Iberia..

IBERIA?????

Of course I know where the Iberian peninsular is, but c'mon..move with the times will ya?

In fact I'm going to nip it in the bud right now with a stinking e-mail to Sky because otherwise, THIS is going to happen.

Weather report, Sky news, 6 October 2011

The winds that have recently plagued the Iberian peninsular moved across Southern Gaul earlier today,

Germanicus has also been put on full alert

Brittanicus should also brace itself to receive up to 3 firkins of rain, as far north as the land of the Picts.

The Byzantium Empire is experiencing a beautiful late Summer but this is only expected to last a few more days, after that it will move across the uncharted regions of the Kush.

Meanwhile Nubians can expect almost drought conditions for at least several months ahead.

Persia is expected to remain relatively calm and should experience no further problems

BASTARDS!!!!

I was listening to the radio yesterday on my drive to Birmingham and I heard a Scientist say that by the year 2080, the population of the earth will be around 15 billion.

That's over twice the Population of the world now.

This means 600 million in America,

120 Million in the tiny country called England

almost 3 billion in China,

2.6 billion in India.

When is the world going to be governed by strong, forward thinking people?

And not little men with limited, self serving dreams?

Just have a quick look at this, it's frightening..and meanwhile the British government insists we use a multitude of garbage containers to help reduce carbon emissions..

Do they think those extra 8 billion people will be living naked and in the cold?

http://www.eahdfoundation.org/world_live_clock.php

Assuming the tail end of the latest hurricane doesn't delay me, I'll be away in Mexico for two weeks starting tomorrow...happy collaring folks.

‎'Welcome to earth' I said to the alien...

'Piss off, bastard' said the extratourettestrial being.

Simon Cowell was in the newspapers today stating 'we are in a horrible position and that he (Simon Hageman) must give up the million pounds he won on Red or Black to his victim'

Well for starters Simon..I suggest you get back into the real world, no working class man likes giving up 50p let alone a Million, especially when in Hageman's mind, he feels (1) the woman deserved it, and (2) with a 30 month prison sentence, he has already paid society back for his crime.

So Simon, I'll answer for you...no he won't.

Cowell was also quoted as saying 'He's appalled that any person could gain from the manipulation or hurt of fragile women'

Great...so it's wrong then to beat a woman (which of course it is) but it's ok to send a little 11 year old girl called Jackie Evancho out on tour to promote a new DVD (produced by Cowell) or have an emotionally fragile SueBo paraded on stage , television shows and concerts to help line his pockets even further?

There are many forms of abuse Mr Cowell, and in the interests of wealth, you too, use a few of them.

Here's an idea though, Hageman certainly wont give her his money, you're worth a few hundred million, why don't you?

I think if Gaddafi hides out in the 'slightly melted' section of Madame Tussaud's, we may never find him.

There's a TV show in England called 'Midsomer murders'

Well first of all, I bloody wouldn't well live there.
It seems every man and his dog is found floating in a pond or head down in a chip basket..

God know what the insurance costs to live there.

Anyway..I digress.
It seems that the 'Ethnic minority' are very unhappy with the show.

Midsomer murders has no black, Asian or Carribean people in it at all.
The shows producer says he want to keep the show purely 'English' as opposed to British.
He said that to introduce black gardeners, Asian taxi drivers etc would take away from what he's trying to portray..



May I?

please? pretty please?

Well I'm going to anyway.

How DARE you people complain if we wish to make a programme showing only white people.
I don't hear any rising cacophony of noise saying we shouldn't have a Black Police federation, or a Black and Asian teachers association.

I don't see many complaints going on about the explosion of Mosques, Temples, matched in equal number by the closing of our Churches..

I don't see too many complaints on how you can't drive through inner city Birmingham on a Friday without finding it just like a Sunday morning in 1950's Britain.

In fact you should do so...the only place that seems to be doing any roaring trade is the Benefits office in Highfield Rd.

So when did we vote to close down huge swathes of Birmingham on an Islamic holy day then?
Perhaps we SHOULD start showing more programmes on Black and Asian life in modern day England.

But instead of that nice bumbling Mr Patel who works all hours in his corner shop, or that hard working Mr Singh who runs the papershop in Ward End,

Instead of showing good old Mr Brown and his wife attending Pentecostal Church, instead we should show their children and the legacy they've given us..
Things like Asian gangs in control of most of the drugs in our inner cities,

We should show the Johnson crew and the Burger bar gang emptying Ingram machine guns into the bodies of two teenage girls.

We should make programmes about brainwashed suicide bombers blowing up buses and trains.

We should show episodes on female genital mutilation and arranged marriages and we should shine a light on all those children, hidden and locked away, crippled through interbreeding.
We'd certainly have enough TV parts for ethnic minorities then.
I even have a name for the show.

We could call it 'England 2011'

I was just skipping through the TV channels.
It's getting ridiculous.

We have the Horse Whisperer,

The Dog whisperer

The Snake Buster

The Snake crusader

The Crocodile hunter (well perhaps not anymore)

And ALL of them making a good living ..well again, perhaps not Steve..but he is probably making a good deading..
So instead of working my fingers to the old bones, I've decided to reinvent myself..
From now on, you can refer to me as ..

The Budgie fondler..
I'll make a bloody fortune.

So what of birth? the old man said...
The first a baby does is cry
And the innocence of early years,
So swiftly fades away to die.

And what of age? the young man said.
I'm strong and fit and in my prime
But those withered limbs will soon be mine..
(So soon be mine)

And what of love ? the cynic said,
Love will only bring you pain
With love comes loss and deep despair...
And drives the strongest man insane..

And what of life? the mourner said,
Where once a wild and raging wind,
Had fanned a light (a light now dead)
Perhaps the voice that spoke within...
Knows silence know and cannot sin.

And what of words? the Poet wrote,
And struggled in his rhymes to say,
Of the things I know and truly fear..
The past, tomorrow and today.

And what of pets? the 'owner' said
A friend I've known and long adored..
Has left me now and broke my heart..
Her loss cuts deeper than a sword.

I know how life's uncaring song
Can echo softly in our ears
When those that made that song now fade,
And thoughts become the ghosts that crowd
And each day leaves with the setting Sun.

Come with me, to a distant land,
Come travel with me far away;
Perhaps down to an empty School
Or a foggy night from childhood dreams,
And there allow a long lost thought
To gently bear us where it may.

For dreams have wings to carry us
Beyond this world's unceaseless strife
The long nights filled with faceless cares.
We'll leave our meaningless affairs,
Our weariness with modern life.

Each memory then, will lose itself,
Soft caught perchance by winds of time,
Till all the past has blown away,
The scattered scraps of yesterday;
Then only our tomorrows stay,
Unopened casks of wine.

Come with me then and find a place,
A place where you and I, might dwell
Across unmeasured miles we'll fly,
Across the seas to lands that lie
Beneath an ever cloudless sky,
And there our dreams can set us free.

If you think that I don't love you
Put your hand upon my heart
While it beats, it beats for you alone.
And it hopes we'll never part.

If you think that I don't love you
Watch the rising of my chest.
You are all I am and want to be.
Let your name be my final breath.

If you think that I don't love you
You need only take my hand,
For all it holds is yours to take,
If you touch, you'll understand.

If you think that I don't love you
And you think we'll fall apart,
If you listen very carefully,
You will hear my love...my heart

Contrary to public belief, I have had girlfriends..

Ok I wasn't really successful in attracting anything with two legs until I was about 20, but for two years until I met my first long term lady, I more than made up for it.

Well I SAY made up for it..

Some of them were better suited to being hung on a wall as a hunting trophy than in a photo album, but hey, at least they went out with me..

I can't name them of course (being a gentleman and all) but that slapper Sue was the only girl I ever knew who carried a rape alarm with a snooze button on it.

Then there was our local barmaid..beautiful looking girl but one night as I gave her a last kiss, she only went and peed herself (true that) I went home wetter than the little bloody Mermaid.

Then there was another girl, we'd had a great night and I was walking her to the bus stop in Colmore Row.

In the doorway of some camera shop we hugged and she asked me if I wanted to see her again..

Before I could even reply, she did a loud technicolour yawn and threw up all over me..

ok..I WAS from Nechells but even I didn't smell that bad.

I went home looking like the top of a Pizza..

AND for many months after that I carried a bottle of Milk of Magnesia and a spare change of clothing.

A girl called Mary wasn't TOO bad..she gave me a kiss one night and for reasons unknown, bit right through my lip..I still carry the scar..and I'm fairly certain she still carries her broken nose..

And my finest hour? Pollyannas nightclub 1973..I'm that drunk I ended up drinking half a pint of lager from a girls leather boot..I swallowed about 4 corn plasters, three toenails and half the top of a Verrucca..now SHE wanted to see me again..

Whilst no one wants to go back to the poverty and discipline of Victorian times (which somehow seemed to last until the late 50's in Nechells, Birmingham)..I think we've gone too far the other way..

Oh I'm all for personal freedom etc, but not when those personal choices allow you to live a lifetime on benefits, or allow you to vandalise, steal, or despise and loathe those in authority such as teachers, Politicians or the police.

We live in an ever changing world, we grew up in a time of little personal wealth but we were instilled with the idea that if you want to belong to society, then you need to do two things, you needed to defend it and you need to pay towards it too.

And we've lost our way..

The people we look up to for morality and guidance are the very same ones who mock us for having values.

We have preachers and Bishops who profess to not believe in God..they advocate gay marriage and liberal attitudes totally against the teachings of the bible.

We vote in Politicians who have no concept of honour, who are all too frequently in power to only further their own fortunes or lives, they cheat us, they break promises, they flood the country with trash whose only value to Britain is that they will vote for those who allowed them here to overwhelm our schools, our hospitals, our housing..truly gerrymandering at its finest.

They ride roughshod over the wishes of those who put them in power, we have a clear majority to bring back the death penalty for the murder of children, almost half of us want to come out of europe, but do they listen? do they hell, they are too often more interested on how far they can wriggle their snouts into the trough than they are of mending broken Britain.

And then we have the Police and courts, personally I think the Police do a good job, but the smarmy twisted and oily words of lawyers and other 'learned' people ensure we will never see true justice for the crimes that the feral scum commit..

We are bound and hampered by the so called law for 'Human rights'

And of course we being decent law abiding citizens, we have no need of such things, over the centuries, my kind has done quite well with the Magna Carta and the bill of common law..

Yet we have to pander to foreign trash who rape and murder us then claim that prison and deportation puts THEM at risk..

People enter our lands illegally, abuse all we are and what we provide, whilst all the time hating us and are longing only for our country to fall under the oppression of Sharia law..

And our politicians? our leaders of morality? the silence is deafening..

Our teachers are controlled and bullied by left wing doctrine, they much prefer no child rise to the surface rather than have some thick, uninterested and disruptive child ever fail, so they abolish competition and exams.

The belief being that if no one ever fails in life, then it's for the good, all the time forgetting, that if no one ever falls, no one learns to climb back up again.

And God save me from religious zealots like Tony Blair, that pious bastard of the fake smile, and Gordon Brown with his 'moral' compass, always first to fire the bullet, always first to detonate the bomb..

So who do we blame?

Why it's simple, we blame us, we blame you and me for allowing this..

We let a political party destroy our borders, bring in the human rights act to defend the very people who have the least right to describe themselves as 'human' and we choose to vote for them over and over again..

We return Maggie Thatcher to power, a Prime Minister who destroyed whole communities, many never to rise again,

We listen to the millionaire David Cameron who tells us 'we're all in this together'...yeah...right.

We listen to Miliband spouting family values ...a man who had to be dragged screaming into the sanctity of marriage and all I hold dear.

And when we can afford it, we drive through the english countryside and my grandchildren marvel at the sheep, not knowing that far more live in the evermore crowded cities of this once green and pleasent land.

I've just made a scientific breakthrough...and it's this:

The speed in which a woman says "Nothing" when asked "What's wrong?" is inversely proportional to the severity of the coming storm.

Mathematical formula to follow..

Excuse me for being cynical....again 

Just two pounds a month is enough to pay for:

The Salary of a cameraman, a producer and a sound-recorder for a month's filming in Africa. 

Plus their HD camera, sound equipment, hire cars and local guides,

Oh...and a security guard or two 

And...Business class flights plus additional baggage cost for equipment,

A taxi to airport, meals and drinks, stays at a 4 or 5 star hotel. 

A team to edit the film on their return.

And finally a focus group to watch and review the film so they can make an advert. 

begging us to send £2 a month to Africa...again..

To help teach them dig a well...again.

Because they're starving...again.

First of all dear reader...to read this, you need to be sitting...well either that or have a swinging pebble for a heart.. 

To be honest, I was going to close this account down.

In the several years I've been a member of Collarme, apart from chatting with the odd few people, it's never really been a place I felt useful to finding a suitable female partner for (amongst other things) D/s related activities.

People...there is far more to life and a relationship than locking your woman in a collar and doing incredibly rude and erotic things to her naked and helpless body..though right now I can't think what!  :)

The one woman I did form a relationship with came through the most vanilla website in the world..

She's beautiful, she knows who she is.

Then I have a Domme friend...now this one is weird..oh not her, just the situation.

I love her to bits, but we fight like cat and dog..I wish we didn't, but we do..we never seem to move past that.

I do know she has integrity and class.

Oh bugger it, I may as well have a bit of a ramble here.

Back in my salad days when I was green in judgement and cold in blood, we used to joke on how young the police were beginning to look.

Now I think exactly the same as some of the Doms on here..

Correct me if I'm wrong (and I know in certain rare cases I'm bound to be) but how can a 19 year old teenager describe himself as 'an experienced Master' ?

God in heaven! I wasn't even experienced in shaving at 19.

There are certain things, (like cheese, Brandy or good wine) that need a few years stacked up behind them...the idea of a boy whose voice hasn't even broken and has bumfluff for a moustache, claiming to be an experienced Master isn't one of them....and lads, being a 'team leader at MacDonalds' isn't really D/s experience..

The females on here are far more realistic..

At least what they require makes sense..(generally) they ask for 'do-able' things, plus with male raging hormones and a desperate desire for a hopeful shag, they usually get them..

There also seems to be a glut of gay men my age, seeking slave boys aged 18 to 30.. for either a relationship or to join their 'growing stable' of slaveboys..yeah right..

So there you are, all pot bellied, breath like a dying Badger, more hairs up your nose than there are on your head and you think that's the age group you're going to attract..

I've got bad news for you..

Now I'm different, at least my goals are sane and reasonable..

All I'm looking for is a female 40+ nyphomaniac, into bondage, discipline, vast amounts of oral sex, tits like coconuts (except without the hair), who loves dressing in uniforms, owns a brewery and thinks 50 year old men are really angels down here on earth living as sex machines..

Best get your applications in now ladies..

Oh and don't forget to kneel as you type it..

The enemy has found me,
I always knew it would,
No one can fight against it,
And no one ever should,

It came upon me softly,
Like a thief within the night,
It started on my hearing,
Then it worked upon my sight.

 
It thinned my hair,
And chilled my bones
And stole my strength away,
But its subtle in its working,
Just a little...every day.

 
Who is this thief I write of?
well, it's really not a crime,
We know it by its common name
And simply...call it time.

All the poems I write here are mine..

But I claim no copyright, all the words listed I simply took from a dictionary...

the only thing I did, was put them in a order not used before...

I know you don't love me
I dont think you even like me
And I still think you never cared for your collar and chains,

but you are the be all,
And the end all, of my existence

You hung the moon
in my night time sky
You sprinkled
the stars in my heaven
you are the reason
flowers smell sweeter
And the reason,
the sun shines brighter
the reason my life is worth living
so...

If it's alright
(And if you don't mind)

I'm going to love you
for the rest of my life

Its late and another day is stored,
Its late and I need my sleep.
Its much too late for tears to form
Too long for me to weep........

In the early hours, half asleep,
(It depends on your point of view)
Over 40 years and a memory..
And the memory is you.

 
A troubled concience holds my sleep
But this quiet moment calms,
So a Lord for my shepherd I'll not want
Nor need of other Psalms

Do I weep and think of long lost love?
Can I hold your memory dear?
You belonged to another life and time
Now that time is not so clear.

 
With heavy heart and troubled thoughts,
My mind can barely span
A love and friend and confidente
The mother of the man.

 
Its late and another day is stored,
Its late and I need my sleep,
Its much too late for tears to form..
Too late for me...to weep.

My mom died on this date over half a lifetime ago.

You'd think after 40 odds years it would be easier wouldn't you?

You'd be wrong.

So there I was, perusing profiles in the 'other' place. I have to say, I do enjoy that type of thing, seeing what makes other folks tick, so to speak.  

After about 2 pages I came across a posting by a lady saying that she wished people would update their pictures a little more often.  

Let's face it, expecting to see a 30 year old person after swapping several e-mails, can be a bit of a shock, especially when your first thought upon meeting is,  

'It seems he couldn't make it, but how nice he sent his Dad to let me know'

Now me..I look exactly like my photo..yes, that's the one, a cross between a half chewed rubber Bulldog and a badly neglected Pound puppy.  

Worse still, it doesn't end there, add to that little mix, a chest even a pigeon would be ashamed of, legs like two pipe cleaners and a swollen pot belly that wouldn't look out of place on a starving Rwandan..  

And my puny arms?...don't even get me started on my puny arms.  

But, as my hero Popeye used to say..'I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam' hmmm...could Popeye be from the black country? ..just a thought.

Now..I only frequent the BBB a few times a year (oh the shame in admitting this) so I look for faces I'd know off IC.  

I was even pestering my friend Jan saying 'So who's that then'? She'd reply, 'that's Lady Turnip, or Master Cupcake etc' And I'd go..'eh?..but...but they look nothing like their profile pics'..  

It got worse..  

Sometimes she'd reply (after yet another one of my banal questions) 'That one there is Mistress Toadstool' and I'd think...'Mistress'? are you sure? (cos' I'm thinking more like 'Master')  

Of course there ARE many exceptions to the rule.  

XXXAdeenaXXX looks exactly like the woman she is, sensual, stunning and gorgeous. sub columbia? just beautiful.. Topthoughts? exactly like it says on the bottle, nice guy, almost as big as his heart.  

I DID recognise a few though, plus the fashion show when the MC announced several names certainly helped..  

But me?...  

well quietlywaiting summed me up perfectly when introducing me to morriganna (Hi morriganna)..'this is 'Kandor'  

(she said as she cleared her throat and spat on the ground)  

God almighty, what a crappy name I have..even I nearly fell asleep at that.  

Long ago, I fell in love

And falling broke my heart..

Over time, I thought it mended,

Then again, it fell apart.

I keep it now in cotton wool

So my heart no longer feels,

I'll let it rest a season,

And give it time to heal.

Long ago I knew of love

And loving spoke my heart,

I left it undefended,

A target for each dart.

I'll have you know

Such wounds I'll bear ...

They don't speak of defeat,

For hearts can not be hidden

Without their loss complete.

Long ago, I fell in love

And falling, broke my heart...

In time, it may be mended,

Then once again, I'll start,

I'll try to not fear falling,

And fly on love built wings,

And I'll write down,

What you mean to me.

As I hope for all love brings..

Not counting my family members such as my mother, sisters and daughters etc, I have loved three women in my life.

The first I married, the second had to tragically look after her dying daughter, the third was last year.

She was a bundle of insecurity, unrequited love and someone life had never really looked so fondly upon.

She is beautiful, kind, funny and caring.

Natural intelligence and empathy flowed from every pore of her body and mind.

We met on a very vanilla site and it was only after many subtle questions on my part that I found she was willing to explore the world of D/s.

But it wasn't really her.

Oh the visuals were all there, she wore her chains and collar beautifully, but as for saying she belonged in them...no

And for us, that is never enough.

I need a woman to whom a gag gives a voice.

I need a woman who when chained feels herself most free.

I need a woman who feels tallest whilst on her knees. 

If they dont, then it's all just role play...and roleplay isn't who I am or what I do.

I know this lady has since found her kind of happiness.

I also want her to know that for her, I'm happy....more than she could ever know.

She once told me that I live in a weird and wonderful world..

Good, I'm glad I do..

My world is a rainbow of colour and I cannot live in shades of grey.

Just know though, I will always love her..

I will love all three of those ladies,

How could I not?

They all made me who and what I am today.

Thank you.

I see train fares are going up by an average of 5.9%  with almost double that in Kent.

When will this government realise that it's getting beyond a joke? 

Some people pay a fifth of their wage JUST getting to their work place.

Perhaps if Politicians could no longer claim travel expenses and instead, just like the rest of us had to buy their tickets out of what they 'earn' a week,  we might finally have a first world railway system instead of a third world one. 

A few weeks ago I had to catch a train to Coleshill, now Coleshill is approximately 10 miles from my house, to catch this train, I had to walk 2 1/2 miles into Tamworth  (no bus to Coleshill until 8 50 am, which by then would have been pointless) 

The train fare cost almost £7 and they did not do a direct service (check the Tamworth Railway schedules if you want)

So I waited an hour for a train to Nuneaton, then I froze for 30 minutes to find my train only took me to Hams Hall link, which then meant another 3 mile walk..I got to my destination 4 hours after setting off..and yet our Government believe this is ok and a fair price is being charged.. 

This country should really start growing Bananas,

Bastards! 

Oh it can't be just me..not just me.

The new Plusnet broadband provider is advertising on Sky television.

It boasts as one of its big selling points, that it only uses British call centres.

Then they show someone phoning up and asking exactly that question.

It's a f*******g Indian who answers the phone!!! 

Jesus Christ! am I the only one who sees the irony in this?

Piss taking bastards.

Mr Micheal Thompson.

He's the man who has just been fined £440 for perverting the course of justice.

His 'crime' was to flash oncoming motorists and warn them that a Police speed trap was awaiting them further down the road.

His defence was, he was only doing a civic duty and that by warning drivers to slow down,  he was then making the road a little safer.

And I agree.

We've all done it, motorists that is, we're driving along, mainly on the speed limit, and often a few mph over it.

Then we see that parked up white van where it most certainly shouldn't be (usually in a place, we'd get a ticket for)

Or perhaps we see that flash of yellow and just know..that the revenue raising branch of the Police are just waiting there for a chance to fine us.

And we slam on the brakes, often without even looking to see IF we were going too fast...oh and God help anyone right behind who was blinking, sneezing or otherwise engaged with anything else that might cut down THEIR braking time.

So they fined Mr Thompson.

They said that warning someone they were going over the speed limit is a crime..

A question.

Those road side posts that display your speed in either green or red, you know them, the ones that let you know you're travelling too fast..

Aren't they exactly the same thing?

i.e. something that interferes with the natural course of justice?

Of course they're not!

Those are only sited in a place where the Police know it's silly to speed but we dont get enough traffic to waste our time fining people there.

Personally if Mr Thompson is guilty, they so are the buggers who put those other signs up.

Can we fine them too?

Sergeant Major Carl Lee,

The Gods may throw a dice.

As a kid I seemed to have it all stacked up against me..  

I was little, thin, hungry, my clothes were usually hand me downs and I had the confidence of a dead flea.  

(I may have to retract that statement, if like last time, 43 dead fleas write in to complain at the comparison)

But seriously, my early life as a kid until I was around 16 was attrocious, in fact, I was so poor as a kid, even the Sparrows threw me bread,  

I also applied to be a Church mouse but they turned me down saying, even they didn't accept that level of poverty..  

Oh but that wasn't my ultimate shame..last night brought it all back to me..

I caught a bit of an old gameshow on TV. It showed the 'Captains' picking people out to take part in their team..  

Remember when they did that at school? picking out sides for football, cricket or rounders? The cleverest, tallest, most popular two kids in the school would stand up in front of us and make their choices..

'I'll have Paul' says the one.. 'Steve' says another 'Dave, you're with me' 'Roger, get out here'...and so on..  

And there was me, waiting to be picked with the other rejects that weren't fit enough for Micheal Jacksons 'Thriller'  

'Simon, come out here'.. but..but..simon lost both legs in a Go-kart accident, why you picking him? I thought..  

Carl, we need you..again the shame runs through my mind as they push out Carl in his new Iron lung and wheel him to the goalmouth..  

'Becky..you're in defence, just be careful with your guide dog ok'?  

'Terry, you're centre half, and make sure you dont crack your body cast like last time ok? your Mom gave me hell for that' And so it goes..  

and eventually there's me and Jeff who appears to suffer from continuous epileptic fits..and they toss the final coin..the one Captain leaps up in the air, punching wildly..'yesss' he screams..  

I was just having a browse through the online journals and I noticed one posted by a male dom.

In it,  he writes mostly about finding a woman who knows how to cook 'healthy' meals.

He writes on how much he respects himself and his body.

Which of course, are both good things.

He then goes on about how he cannot abide 'overweight' women and how he couldn't possibly enjoy a 'physical/romantic/intimate relationship with one.

Two things here...how sad and shallow of him that he feels he can only have a decent relationship with a woman who has to fit the dimensions of a Barbie doll.

Secondly, I checked out his profile, he's 5ft 6ins tall and weighs over 215 pounds.

Acoording to the height/weight ratio charts, this gentleman is at least 65 pounds overweight.

Let's just hope people aren't as shallow as him in their search for a partner.

In 6 days time it's Christmas, for some it's a time of excitement, of family getting together over a hot Turkey dinner and a chance to reminisce of days gone by.

For children it can be magical, the promise of new presents or what they think is their hearts desire.

For others it is a time of crushing loneliness and of aching loss for those that have gone before. 

All of us everywhere, want different things to make this Christmas, our best one ever.

So, I hope all your wishes come true.

This is for you all.

I  just wish Christmas would grant us all our hearts desire,

I don't want material things, I'm tired,

I'm tired of....

Fathers falling to weak hearts...

mothers taken by breast cancer...

daughters lost to leukemia...

sons destroyed by drugs or drunk drivers...

babies lost forever in their cots....

grandfathers devoured by strokes...

grandmothers broken by loneliness...

grandchildren suffocated in fires...

brothers shot down on streets...

sisters raped and killed in parks...

cousins found in the carnage of crashes...

neices and nephews abused and starved...

firemen lost when floors give out...

policemen gunned down while trying to save...

soldiers blown away by cowardly assassins...

parents with coffins and British flags...

parents with coffins and any colour flag...

doctors who wish they could do more than they can...

nurses who are there for that final warm breath...

ministers who share in each family's pain...

priests who give final prayers and hope for the after...

and the worry over newborns and what they might face...

Merry Christmas everyone.

Les

I haven't been writing much lately,

Sure the odd comment has gone on, usually a one liner, but normally, I'm a little more prolific than that.

Why?

Oh that's simple.

I've been fitting my Kitchen. 

Hands up here, I couldn't do the plastering, I'm simply not good enough and I really do believe it is an art. 

The guy I had in called Dan, is a magician, anyone who needs a good tradesman and probably the best plasterer I've ever seen, give me a call. 

Likewise I didn't fit the the Marble worktops either, way too expensive to mess around with and cutting and drilling is a really skilled job.

 Although I will mention the robbing bastards charged me an extra £300 just because I'd ordered a island piece 10mm wider than standard. 

Which incidently they told me on the day.

The company stinks, the workmen were brilliant.

Starting the job I had to take down the wall I'd built between the the dining room and kitchen, that was easy enough, I was the one who'd put it up.

I was sad to take my arch down though, that was my pride and joy.

The wall cupboards and worktops soon went and before you know it, all I had was a sink and a cooker, with big holes in my wall and a floor all chewed up by my chisel.

The first thing after plastering (what was for Dan, an empty room) was I put the floor tiles down, big 2ft square buggers, I had to cut with a disc cutter, they were simply too big and thick to cut in the normal way.

After about a day and a half they were done..I was quite pleased with the end result. 

Next I put together all the units.

I'll be damned if I'll pay an extra £500 just to buy them ready assembled, besides, it was easy. 

The next job was easier still, fitting cookers etc.... is what I do.

That soon went in and just after that I fitted a Belfast sink, believe it or not, that took about 30 minutes.

Hey, I'm a Plumber... 

The wall units went up well, dead level and everything with soft closing doors and drawers.

Took ages mind, so fiddly.

Then I put in new ceiling lights and chrome switches.

 After that I put in the island, I'd run a power supply under the floor tiles so I had a double plug there, it took bloody ages to cut the floor. 

I added an extra 6 double sockets and run Sky into the kitchen, (you have to be able to watch TV as you cook)

I then put the radiator back on the wall and hid all the pipes.

After that, went in the shelves to the window, I fitted a new door and handles, then patched up holes, fitted the cooker hood and now I have a million and one finishing touches...another day or so and it will be done..

And people say I have ...the easy life.

I was minding my own business in the Pretty Pigs pub last night when a man came over to me and said, 'You look like a poof'

I was so outraged, I immediately challenged him to a dance off.

If I were to die today,
Go belly up and pass away,
Would you do me one small chore?
Just the one please, nothing more... 

Delete the porn on my PC!
It's stuff  my daughters shouldn't see.
I wouldn't want those things to be,
People's last real thoughts of me.

The eager housewives and the pros,
The tired old tarts and all the ho's,
Get rid of them all, for heaven knows,
Who might glimpse them without clothes. 

If I were to shuffle off this mortal coil ( I do have a cough)
Check the comp before you pack it off...
The CD's too....( I DO back up)
And delete anything that's compromising,
Search each file, be enterprising!

There are some at rest, some exercising,
Some doing things that's quite surprising,
There's lots on there, I must confess,
In various states of tacky dress.

Delete them all, that is unless
You want copies too,
If you do...God bless.

Mother of mine.
Also known commonly as 'Mama Mia' 

It is  alleged they filmed part of the movie on a very small island called Skopolos,
Skopolos doesn't have an airport so you have to land at its even tinier neighbour called Skiathos, you then take a 75 minute hydrofoil across teasing blue swells that rise up between the scores of tiny little outcrops.

Those of the travel sickness variety, dont even bother, although the three and a half hour flight out was more of a slide across polished glass, the intense bouncing of a 40 mph fast boat more than made up for it.  

Remember the Church scene near the end where Meryl Streep gets married?
It really is just like that...well just like that in the film anyway. 

The Church is nothing like that in real life, compare the two and on top of the film church it has a little dome, that doesn't exist, they've also mostly blanked out the other building right next to it..the real church is little, flat and square...and so tiny when I entered, I nearly bumped my nose on the far wall...simply a small room measuring around 10ft x12 ft ...nowhere big enough to get a wedding in (unless of course it was an Etheopian wedding with 500 guests) 

Which was made even tinier because the walls were covered in cat fur where the local Priest had obviously tried to swing a cat.
(Oh wait! that WAS my apartment bathroom, I'll write about that in another story) 

And I loved the scene where Meryl Streep sings 'I dont want to talk' to Pierce Brosnan, then runs up the steps to enter the Church while singing..

After climbing all those steps, all I could have done was collapse whilst begging for oxygen..I was bluer than a Smurf when I got up there.

So yes, the little church on the top of the mountain IS there, but not like you think, the views really are tremendous but the fact is, Hillary and Tenzing couldn't have made that climb without any gear or oxygen and apart from Meryl Streep being filmed running up those final steps, I'm fairly certain no one else did..

Its 1978 and Les...you prat, do NOT have your hair permed.
As you're a red head you'll look exactly like a Belisha beacon for 2 years..DONT do it. 
What on earth were you doing?

It's 1973 and you've just bought a 'Budgie' jacket..based on a style of coat worn by Adam Faith in the series called 'Budgy'
Frankly, it looked better on a Budgie
Oh dear..

1983 and you have a moustache...why?
It looks like an undernourished Caterpillar has died on your top lip..shave it off moron.

 That suit you wore for your wedding?
ok it was 'made to measure'
But who did he use to measure it for?
It certainly wasn't you.

sigh...

Measham Car Auctions 1985
That bedford van you buy ex- British Gas..
Stop off on the way home and buy a Sou'Wester or a Frogmans suit..years will pass and you will never get rid of that leak through the windscreen.
Either dont buy it or at least purchase a couple of Goldfish to keep you company. 

Tell your Dad you love him...you didn't and it tortures you for a lifetime. 

Do not buy those hipsters in 1970...they are woven tweed, you will lose both your legs in less than7 months due to excessive itching..
Pol Pot will offer to buy them for use in his Killing fields
oh..and your bum will glow just like your hair does in the top paragraph.

 Finally (and Les you idiot, you could write millions of these)
Do NOT buy that white coat in 1977...you utter fool! whatever possessed you to think that the sidekick of Top Cat known as 'Benny the Ball' could ever be a fashion Icon?

So WHY did you choose to dress like him?

I don't smoke, I never have, fact is, I've never even tried one.

All my life I've been a firm believer, that fresh air is the thing we're supposed to put in our lungs.

Yet strangely enough, for the last 16 hours or so I seem to have developed a 'smoking fetish' Not just an ordinary fetish mind, mine is a fetish based on burnt Lemon Meringue.

Isn't it weird how things just pop up like that?

I'm not one.


For usually pouring my heart out on CM...and on the odd occasion I do, it's always told tongue in cheek, with humour.

I'm never one for giving up....ever.

I laugh easily.

I can cry just the same...what is a man without compassion? It doesn't make me weak, it makes me strong.

As a child I've had my back against the wall so hard, I've left body prints in the concrete... But I never rolled over and said 'That's it'

I've lost so many people I've loved it's ridiculous..but you wont ever find me wishing to join them. These are the cards I was dealt. I live with them.

I have friends, friends who know and love me, for all my faults..and those who judge me?..'Let he who is without sin'....

I may look like a man who shaves with a Crocodile, but in real life, few run away screaming...

I have the pertest of Bums and wonderful broad shoulders...laughs.. Popeye, eat your heart out.

I can make you laugh...no, really laugh, not on here though, you need to be near me..preferably dressed in an RAF uniform or as a Policewoman.

I have empathy..I can make you feel better and restore your soul.

I see the good in most things..and why not? everyone has some degree of good in them.

I can read situations and know more or less how things will end..although on here, that's pretty much a done thing.

I'm widely read, the fact is, I can bore you on most subjects and if you ever want to win a quiz pub night? Get me in your team. Not arrogant, just true.

If I pay someone a compliment, take my word for it, I mean every word and what I mean is true.

I know when to stop.

It appears that according to Sky news, ventriliquism is on its way back.

Now...as I'm still getting over the trauma of seeing Lord Charles and Ray Allen  back in the late 80's, I sincerely hope it's  not coming back at all.

I remember his  act clearly, the performance was wooden, jerky, bereft of funny lines and his lips never moved..

The proplem being, it was the human who was wooden and the puppet whose lips never moved.

Ray Allen's were all over the place..And he was considered one of the best! 

Lenny the Lion with Terry Hall was another one..as funny as a broken leg on a pigeon, he hid his appalling lack of skill, by hiding his head in Lenny's mane. 

Ventriliquism on its way back?

The guy was talking out of his arse.

I believe we are the sum of our days..

It was written that  by the time we are 50, we all get the face we deserve..

Now, as mine is pure, unlined and angelic, it then follows that I'm in complete agreement with this.

The problem for me, is that no one ever wrote, that we also get the body to match.

So here I am, the face of an Angel tacked on to the body of Beelzebub.

I was looking in the mirror again last night...now I dont know why I do this so often, I mean, my memory is pretty good and I'm sure I haven't changed radically overnight..

But at 7 20 pm yesterday evening as I stepped out of the shower and admired my withered little body, I discovered God had made me with lopsided nipples.

And I dont mean slightly lopsided either, the one is more or less in the right position, my left nipple however is situated somewhere close to my left ankle..

Add this to the fact my ears aren't level either, that my one eye is a tad lower than the other...

I'm beginning to resemble a downhill skiier, three seconds after they crash into a tree.

After further study, I can also see my right side is a lot better developed than the left, as I'm predominantly right handed, my one side is muscled and semi toned, my left looks like it's riddled with Polio.

I've got a right foot like Sideshow Bob, a left like Thumberlina,

A right arm like Superman, the other side looks like it was stolen from Stephen Hawking.

It even extends to my eyesight, one side, super vision, the other 'Mole man' 

In fact if I ever have a stroke, please God make it my left side, I bet I dont even notice.

Not if you gave me a high powered sniper rifle with a telescopic sight he couldn't.