Riff of the Day - Smoak on the Wotter

'ER ER ER, ER ER ERER, ER ER ER, ER ER ER  *repeat until your ears bleed, then bring in the drums*

'BOOMBIDDY BOOMBIDDY'  'ER ER ER, ER ER ER ER...' 'Scream loudly, &c.'

Word that doesn't seem like a word of the day - BACON

Perhaps it's just me, but you know when you stare at a word for a while in a certain way and it doesn't seem like that word any more?  THAT.
Bacon is today's word that doesn't seem like that word any more.

B...A...C...O...N

It sounds like a town in Georgia, USA.

I won't call it BACON any more, because it just doesn't feel quite right.  I'll call it the thinly-sliced pink and white stuff in the packet at the bottom of the fridge, that sizzles when you place it under a hot grill or in a frying pan.
Might get an 'old-fashioned' look from the butcher if I go in asking for half-a-pound-of-smoked-that though.
I suppose I can always point.

Fact of the Week - Moving the Bathroom Scales around a bit makes you Lose Weight

'If I move the scales from one side of the bathroom to the other I can lose two pounds! Isn't that remarkable Geoffrey?'
I knew it wasn't remarkable, of course.  I was only asking because I didn't have anything else to say, and I felt like saying something.
Anything, really.  I could have said the word 'something' or indeed 'anything' instead of raving on about the bathroom and the scales and my apparent weight loss.  But what would have been the point of that?  You can't go anywhere from 'something' and 'anything'. They're conversation stoppers, unless you're a fan of the odd.  I would have said 'unless you're a fan of the surreal', but that would have been over-egging an already over-egged pudding.
And we can't have that.
Geoffrey is not a fan of the 'surreal'.  He doesn't even know what it means, the thick twa...
'I do so too!  And I will demonstrate just how much of a fan I am by slicing your eyeball open while smoking a pipe that isn't a pipe and reciting passages from Salvador Dali's mind-numbingly dull treatise on farting.'
Oh dear.  I forgot about...
'...my mind-reading capability!  Yes you did, didn't you Tuppy.  Don't worry - I won't slice your eyeball open, I was only joking.'
'What a side-splitter.  I can see that your knowledge of the so-called surreal extends only to the mind-cudgellingly obvious and the stonkingly banal.'
It was no use.  My brain felt like a dried pea, rattling about in an empty, spidery drawer and nothing to amuse itself with but the rapidly-fading memory of better days and a forgotten potato that had gone all soft and sprouty.
'Fetch the opium,  Geoffrey.  I'm afraid it's going to be one of THOSE evenings.'


Find this week's free download here http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sea-Penguin-Fireside-Outcrop-Selections-ebook/dp/B007IKMM7E

Find my other e-books here (all Tuppy & Geoffrey tales, similar to the above except OLDER http://www.amazon.co.uk/Kate-Smart/e/B008MFK3NE/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Sweep sings Bohemian Rhapsody

Teeth-gritting Sound of the Week

'GNNNNRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR........................'

Book of the Week: Gruts, by Ivor Cutler

I got this from Amazon ( as usual).  I think it's probably out of print, although it shouldn't be.  This edition dates from 1962 and is published by The Museum Press.  Price 7s. and 6d. on inside of dust cover.  It cost me £6.37 which is a heck of a lot more than I usually pay for a book, as anyone who reads the blog will know, so you will understand how much I wanted it.  And that was by far the cheapest option available by the way.  It was sent from the U.S.A., oddly enough.
Anyway, it's a book I will treasure.  It contains a load of tales,  poems, drawings, songs and stories, some of which I already know.  For example,  'Old Cups of Tea', and 'The Dirty Dinner'.  ''OH!  What's that on the dining-room table?  Jim!  Jim!  Come here.  What's that on the dining-room table?''  ''It's a big pile of dirt, Mammy.''
And so it goes on.  'The rent had not been paid for 31 years and the landlord was becoming restive.'  A gem.  I would write more, only I don't have time.

Fact of the Day - A Lot of Stuff on the Internet is Bullshit

I don't think I need say any more about that.

Fact of the Day - The Human Brain looks like Cod's Roe...

The brain is a strange and fishy thing that looks quite like cod's roe, if you narrow your eyes and turn the lights down a bit.  As a child I was given fried cod's roe to eat and I really liked it, especially with Heinz tomato ketchup, or 'red sauce' as some like to call it.
Although I remember liking it, I haven't eaten it since I was about eight I have to say.  I can still remember the texture - sort of like under-cooked cous cous or polenta.  As a child, I wouldn't have been aware of what I was eating.  The cod's roe would have been simply cod's roe.  It wouldn't have been fish ovaries. The thought of it makes me heave these days, despite my belief that if you're going to eat animals and fish you should really do them the courtesy of a) killing them decently and b) eating the entire creature.  But I'm sure it's very healthy and it does look awfully like a brain.

Still Reading...Michael Palin's 'Diaries'

Still reading Michael Palin's Diaries and although they're a little 'pedestrian' in parts, I've grown accustomed to his voice and I'm going to really miss them when I get to the end.  So, I think I'm going to have to buy the next volume, which I've already spotted on sale on Amazon for 1p or thereabouts.
It's quite odd reading his account of his life, because it seems so normal (the trips to Barbados and the jetting back and for'ard to New York and the multitude of showbiz pals and encounters aside).  Emotionally balanced, I think is what I'm 'groping for'.  When I think of the sketches he was in (Blackmail,  The Spanish Inquisition, for example) he seemed completely off the wall, but in 'real life' he must be totally different - very grounded and quite reserved I think. Nothing much seems to 'throw' him, or at least that's the impression I have.
It's interesting to read about his writing routine - he worked very very hard at it, to an extent that surprised me.  Mind you, it was his living and had been since leaving Oxford.  So he had the motivation and the time, and possibly most importantly, he had the contacts.   To paraphrase - 'he had three things - motivation, time, and contacts.  And success...he had FOUR things, time, motivation, contacts, and success...and a conducive environment...FIVE things....' and so on and so forth.  Not to mention a vast amount of talent.  'SIX things....'  And energy.  'SEVEN...'
Nevertheless, he was incredibly productive.  One thing in particular that made me take note was his attempt (successful) at novel-writing.  'I'm going to set myself a target of 1,000 words a day, and I'm going to get the whole thing done in three months.'  And he did.
I can easily bang out 1,000 words in a day - whether they're any good or not is another question. My main problem is not the word target but the plot - I have not got one.  I'm a rambler.  But, nothing ventured, and I think I might try the thousand words a day thing and see where it takes me. That's on top of any posts I produce here on the blog.

Whinge of the Week - Sudoku

Geoffrey's in a Right State.
'It's the Whingers Anonymous club meeting tonite and I've no idea what to say.'
'Don't say anything then.  Just sit in a corner eating crisps and say you're having an off nite.'
'It doesn't work like that Tuppy. They're all top-notch intellectual thugs and they'll all turn on me using the combined force of their lethal brain-power unless I come up with a whinge that meets their rigorous standards.  And as if that wasn't bad enough,  even if you DO think of a whinge, if it's not a popular one with the others you get publicly de-badged.  I like my badge Tuppy!  I don't want to get de-badged.  Especially not publicly.'
'How horrible. I wouldn't go at all then.  Just stay at home with me and we'll sit and stare into the fire and eat sausages and drink Madeira until we go unconscious.'
'No Tuppy.  After twenty years of it I'm bored doing that.  I need some mental stimulation and I'm sure Whingers Anonymous is the very thing.  I need to stretch my brain.'
'Suit yourself.'  I yawned and tapped my the embers of my pipe into the fire, and contemplated another bacon sandwich. 'I find doing a Sudoku or trying to work out the number of Rice Krispies in a family-sized pack does the trick in the brain-stretching department, but each to their own.'
I was lying about the Rice Krispies, of course.  And about the Sudoku.  Surely Sudoku is one of the most mind-crunchingly dull inventions ever.....what kind of MANIAC would think up a so-called 'game' that involves adding up numbers in a square until your eyes fall out?  And why is it so popular? And why has Carol Vorderman made even-more-money-than-she's-already-got for herself by writing a book about it - and what kind of losers actually BUY it FFS....
'Geoffrey, I think I might have inadvertently come up with a wh - ....'
But he was still rattling on, pacing the floor and clutching his head. ' It's not all stick though Tuppy,' he raved, 'There's a prize for Whinge of the Week.  Last week it was a hamper.  I want to win the hamper Tuppy.  It would give me a real sense of achievement and that.  I've no idea what to whinge about Tuppy.  I'm perfectly contented. I don't know what to say and I'm afraid they'll all laugh at my confusion and embarrassed silence and then do the de-badging thing.'
'Why on earth are you even going then?'
'For the company Tuppy.  I'm lonely.'
'You've got me, and the neighbours, and the Tupfinder General on the odd occasion.  I'd have thought that was enough.'
'It isn't enough Tuppy.  I want to spread my wings and learn new things.  Meet new people. Maybe even...well...meet someone special...'
That was it.  I stood up briskly and brushed the crumbs off my tartan knee rug (it's one of my five eating days today).
'I'm making another bacon sandwich and then I'm fetching the big syringe Geoffrey. No, no,'  I held up my hand,' I'm afraid you've lost the plot altogether and you'll have to be strapped down and sedated until you see sense.  Or at least until I've finished reading the paper.'

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Kate-Smart/e/B008MFK3NE/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Interesting piece from the Guardian about an encounter with Graham Chapman - my favourite 'Python'.   http://www.theguardian.com/culture/2014/jul/01/graham-chapman-monty-python-star-and-me

Diet Food of the Day - Keesh

I was featured in the local newsletter 'The Enterprise' this week as part of their 'health and fitness' promotion.  It wasn't a good thing.  Mainly because there was a photograph of me looking rotund, captioned 'How NOT to do it - One Sheep's Weight-loss Hell'.
I don't think that you'll be surprised to learn that 'The Enterprise'' is one of enterprising couple Dave and Val Nark's latest enterprises.  Or that its vile and clumsy motto is 'Boldly to Go Where No-one Has Gone Before - or at least, Not for a While.'
Val came round to ours far too early this morning with a copy hot off their bio-fuel-powered printer.  More of where precisely the bio-fuel comes from, later.
'There you go Tuppy!  I know we've had our differences in the past but Dave and I are nothing if not emotionally-generous and so we've put you right there on the front page!  I'm sure Geoffrey will be so proud.'
'Yes that's right - thank you V - ' began Geoffrey, before I kicked him smartly behind the knee. 'Ow!'
'Well I'll be off then!  Time waits for no-one and I've a pilates class at ten and I need to be on the door before they arrive so I can get the money up front.  Not to mention I also have yurts to fill, goats to milk, and a post-office to run. Do stop by the post office for a lo-cal goji-berry flapjack - I've got some stale ones on special.'
And off she whisked, power-walking back up the hill to what used to be the bare and empty tourist car-park, and which is now a sprawling mass of eco-yurts, the largest and pointiest of which has been converted into a post-office-cum-eco-minimart.
'Why am I not losing weight Geoffrey? I've had keesh for tea for the past five days,' I said, as I flung 'The Enterprise' into the fire and watched my own face staring back at me before it vanished forever into ash.
'I don't know Tuppy.  Keesh is supposed to be healthy.  Everyone eats it when they're on a diet.  You've also had salad with everything, as well, so what with that and the keesh you should be really slim by now. It's a mystery Tuppy.  I hate to say,  but you might have to consult Dr Wilson.  You could have a glandular problem.'

more later.

The Whingers Anonymous Club, Badges, & Gel Inserts

'I've got a new badge,' crowed Geoffrey as he flew through the hole in the kitchen wall and landed on his usual perch on the end of the mantlepiece.
'Really,' I replied, staring out of the window in my usual morose manner, while puffing on my electronic pipe and adjusting my belt inwards - yes, INwards - by yet another notch.
'Don't you want to see?' he badgered.
'No.'
'Why not?  It's lovely and shiny.'
'Oh do shut up.  I'm not interested in seeing anything shiny if it isn't baccy or food.'
'I know you'll like it.  It's just up your alley,' he continued doggedly, 'You'll never guess what it's for - you're completely foxed, aren't you?'
'No, I'm not foxed as you put it.  I'm never foxed.  I don't DO foxed,' I said standing up, and flexing my plantar, 'Cattiness isn't in my nature as a general rule, but I've had more than enough of the animal verbs and adverbs.  Crowing,  badgering, doing things doggedly, being completely and utterly foxed and so forth.  And before you say it - I'm not horsing around.   No more am I cowering in a corner, feeling cowed and looking cow-eyed.  Besides, I know precisely what that badge is for because I saw the notice pinned up outside the post office last Monday when I went to collect my gel inserts.'
'What notice?'
'The one about the new Whingers Anonymous Club that meets in the church hall on Tuesday evenings at 7.  It's like the Hellfire Club except there's no dirtiness, there's tea instead of port, and it's open only to whingeing old domino-playing half-wits like your good self.'
'What gel inserts?'
'The ones I got off Ebay for my plantar fasciitis.  Which, might I add, is giving me absolute gyp this afternoon.  Not that you'd care, with your shiny new badge and your new friends at the Whingers Anonymous club and all.'
Geoffrey looked crestfallen, and I immediately felt alarmed. If I didn't apologise pretty swiftly there would be no chance of his making the tea.  'I'm sorry.  I'm just hacked off is all, Geoffrey.  My feet hurt despite my new gel inserts, I hate my new-fangled electronic pipe and I hate being on this five two diet.'
'It was your own idea to go on a so-called health kick.'
'No it wasn't.'
'It was!'
'WASN'T!  And stop looking crestfallen. You're making me feel even worse.  Here am I with an electronic-freaking-pipe, and starving myself for five days and eating rabbit-food on t'other two....'
'I'm not crestfallen.  I'm cowed.  And by the way Tuppy - I haven't liked to mention it before, because you've been in such a toweringly bad mood - but you're doing the five two diet the wrong way round.  You're supposed to eat for five days solidly, then starve for two. You've been doing it wrong. No wonder you're feeling a touch out of sorts.'
I sighed heavily.  Or as heavily as I could manage, given that I was losing more and more of my 'body weight' by the second.  'I'm such an ass.  Have we any sausages?' I asked sheepishly.
'We always have sausages.'
'Good.  Now pass me the opium.'

Next up - Geoffrey stabs himself in the face with the un-safety pin at the back of his badge.

Monty Python- Lumberjack Song FULL

Stella Street - S01/E01