Top Gear

My blog production team and I had a brainstorming meeting today. When I say a brainstorming meeting, I mean video conference interlink, of course, as I was in my penthouse suite (as per usual), my contributing editor, Kizzmyartz, is permanently located in the Nether Regions (phnar! as LL would say!), and my technical consultant, Stewart, is off having fun in a villa in France which was once owned by The Rolling Stones (I'm so jealous - *sob*!). So we hyper-linked. Inter-netted.

Feelgood Friday #3

Is anyone else wondering where last week went? Actually, where did the whole of July go? Just as I was getting into it!

I'd like to take this opportunity (where I'm not writing anything, 'cos it's a visual joke only day), to welcome new readers and followers (it's also a perfect chance to annoy Cheese Puff by rubbing it in, hehe!), especially those joining us from Face book, and those of you from Yahoo! who are bored - you know who you are!

Big Cheese Update...

Long-term readers (eg. more than two weeks!) will recall my post Mr Cheese, where I outlined how a blog feud began between Cheeseman and I. Cheeseman draws humor cartoons (an example of his visual wit here (click on cartoon to read what it says, btw)) - I write funny. Cheesman is Anamerican. I'm a Scot/Brit (at least, for the purposes of a feud with a Yank, even though it looks like I'm a rail company).

The last I reported to you, my loyal fan base, he was running away to hide from my mom mum.

But Cheeseman is back!

Oooo-ehr Mr Mayor!

Dear readers, do you remember a previous post, Freaky Trees, where I lamented the fact that here was a news story where not one of the reports had seized the perfect chance to make puns all the way through their story? Well, here's another one (this might well become a regular feature!). This time it's about a mayor who managed to let his trousers fall down during a visit to a local library (it's true).

I was almost moved to tears by the utter lack of puns in any of the (three) reports I read.

The Telegraph, the Daily Mail and thisisleceistershirestressrs all missed this golden opportunity to have a laugh at this  idiot's  poor man's stupidity unfortunate oversight.

In the interests of nothing in particular, here's my version of the story:

 Mr Mayor Brought To Book

An unfortunate incident in a public library has left the Mayor of Leicester with red cheeks, after his trousers fell down in full view of the youngsters who had specially gathered for his official visit.

The Mayor, clearly embarrassed, was left without a leg to stand on, while his audience tried not to crease themselves laughing. Mr Mayor who, up until this point had thought he had the audience in his pocket, decided to crack on with his speech. Unfortunately for him, the audience of children were in stitches. Telling them to "Belt up" didn't have any effect, so he tried telling them a story which, he had hoped, would keep them in suspenders long enough for him to regain control of the situation.

Seams like this didn't work either though.

By this time, a brace of Trumpton reporters had heard about the incident, and were asking Mr Mayor to enlarge. Mr Mayor wisely declined to comment, deciding instead to keep it zipped. No flies on him then! He hemmed and hawed for a moment and then, realising he was in a tight fix, he legged it. Through a rear exit. No one tried to tackle him, preferring instead to partake in the light snack of meat and two veg prepared specially for the event.

Local resident, Bod, commented "I don't know Y he forgot his belt, but it was clear to everyone that he got his knickers in a twist. But he did the wise thing and kept buttoned up."

When asked what advice he would give the embarrassed Mr Mayor, Bod replied "He shouldn't let this b***s up [unfortunate incident] get him down. He just needs to keep his pecker up and maybe drown his sorrows with a drink or two. That should jockey him up a bit. 

Bottoms up!" 

Ok guys, your turn - what puns did I miss?

Answer in the comments box provided please!

Heidelberg Electric Belt

P.S.Thanks for the best answer vote, Flamingo, enjoy!

My Ride-On Fantasy!

My imaginary boyfriend and I were today bemoaning the state of our incredibly overgrown lawn. After much imaginary discussion (in my head), we decided that the thing to do would be to employ an imaginary Groundskeeper, who could research possible solutions for us.

It didn't take long before Im.B/f and Im.G/m were off searching the Internet for lawn mowers. Why wasn't I surprised? Boys and their toys - hhrrumph!

 
Little did I realise the repercussions that this imaginary situation would bring.........
 
I had decided that this post would be in my "Lady of the Manor" author's voice. It was going to be great! - so laden with irony! (but I may step back into it, so I won't spoil the end...)
 
But then I went to surf for lawnmowers (my research is nothing if not thorough), and everything went pear shaped.
 
I Googled "lawn mowers", and then got a bit carried away.
 
I found it - the Ariens lawn mower page, and immediately my attention was caught by THIS model.... and quickly I realised I HAD TO HAVE ONE!!!

 

The style, the grace.... not only that, but the sheer poetry of the description! This was a ride-on lawn mower. And this was no ordinary ride-on mower... This was an  "Ariens 25hp, 54 in. cutting deck tractor" and was "for the ultimate weekend warrior." The ultimate weekend warrior! MeMeMeMeMe! I WANT one! I NEED one! They had me by the end of the sentence (ouch! nasty!), but there was more....."This ground engaging unit is ideal for large lots and four-season use, and is powered by a professional-grade Kohler Courage V-Twin engine." Superb! Not only that, but it has "a tight 16" turning circle" Phwor - I'm sweating just thinking about it! As Tim Allen (Tool Time, Home Improvement, for those of you who are either too young, too halfhearted a fan, or who have had a complete humor bypass) would say "I. WANT. MORE. POWER! WOGH WOGH!". If Carlsberg was a ground engaging unit, this is the ground engaging unit it would be.

Tim Allen

AND it had "Free blades ..... for life"!. Mind you, at a cool $1,784, free blades has a negligible excitement factor, I mean, really.

 
Anyway, limiting myself to (virtually) loading only one of these beauties in my shopping trolley (well, it's not like I'd have to put it back, is it?), I returned to the listings page, where the "most popular listings" box caught my attention. Reading down the list, I saw "Bullfrog protector". Bullfrog protector - huh? What was that? An eco-friendly garden fence for wildlife lovers who wanted to save their little cold-skinned friends, possibly? Nope, it was a slightly misleading search term someone had used. It was actually Bullfrog Sunblock. Ahh! Sunblock for bullfrogs. That made so much more sense! "Surfer Formula". Who knew that bullfrogs could surf? (It's true, you know, that you learn something new every day.) Sunblock would actually be pretty handy for when Im.B/f was cutting the North lawn (just for his own fun, mind you, we've got other imaginary servants who would do the actual mowing, sorry, ground engaging with the cutting deck tractor). I put a bottle of it into my trolley, and went to investigate a....

A bullfrog (dunno his/her name)

 
One shoulder dress.
 
Which, in my mind, should have been a dress for women unlucky enough only to have one shoulder (genetic mishap? car accident? freak accident while riding shotgun on the new Ariens ground engaging machine?). It wasn't. But it did lead me to the paparazzi dress, which, before you ask, wasn't made of photographers, or even paper (although very reasonably priced). Boooo! Another disappointment. At this point, Im.B/f tried to interrupt my online investigations to ask me if I wanted a cocktail. I told him not to joke around. Of course I wanted a cocktail (the sun was well over the yardarm, why was he even asking?), Martini is my only reason for getting up every afternoon! He dithered around until I noticed he was ogling the model in the skintight (95%cotton, 5%spandex) lurid-yet-somehow-attractive-yellow paparazzi dress. He left rather quickly after that. I shoved a metro style one shoulder jumpsuit (in sexy black) in to my trolley. It was perfect outfit for me to wear for our garden party, which I had just decided would be an excellent way to celebrate our new-look lawn!
 
But my attention had been interrupted, and I began to wonder, as I often do, where the hell was I? How had I got to this site? I hadn't even been paying attention to what country this site belonged to, I had been so carried away by the sheer variety of... of... stuff! Random, completely unrelated ......stuff! I don't normally like window shopping, but I was sitting down (by now with an imaginary double martini in my hand), so no actual physical exercise was called for. The penny dropped, this site was a bit like eBay, but without the.... deflatedness which somehow marks out a UK site, this was altogether more bright and... optimistic. Was it an Aussie site - bullfrogs, surfers and sunblock? Finding the route to the homepage, it dawned on me that this was an aspirational lifestyle shopping and comparison discovery site. With Powershopping! In other words, this wasn't just any aspirational shopping site, this was the aspirational shopping site. And I had discovered it.....the Mother load of shopping site. If Carlsberg was an online shopping site, this is the site it would be (SFX: a heavenly chorus sing "Allelujah, allelujah" etc.).
 
Looking at my newly acquired imaginary Ladies Rolex, I realised my glass was, once more, empty. Turning around in my seat, I realised that Im.B/f and Im.G/m weren't empty. They were full. Of Martini's. They wee also lying horizontal and unconscious on the floor of the library. On the Persian rug (it just so ties the room together, to paraphrase The Dude).
 
I sacked the imaginary Groundsman on the spot. Got the imaginary B/f off to bed (what? - I'm not gonna sack him - he's too good to let go!), and went to brush my teeth, wondering what exactly the jail term is for signing-up for a credit card online, then immediately charging several thousand pounds worth of ride-on mower (sorry, birthday present for the ultimate weekend warrior) to it?
 
I had got a tad carried away with the whole "Lady of the Manor" scenario.
 
And with shopping on the ultimate mother site of aspirational shopping discovery and comparison.
 
And is was possibly not my best idea to announce on Face book that Im.B/f and I were having a Garden Party. Especially not with a time, date and open invite attached.
 
Particularly not when you see what my actual North lawn looks like........
 
Oh well, gotta go. Looks like I'm going to have a bit of a busy day tomorrow.
 
(I knew I shouldn't have sacked the imaginary butler last week.)
 
Toodle Pip!

The North Lawn (!!!)

P.S. Hi Mark T., thanks for "best answer" vote - hope you keep reading!

I Got An Award!

Dunno about you lot, but I had another bizarre weekend! Well, maybe "bizarre" is quite a strong term in the World view of things bizarre, but for someone living in the fictitious town of Trumpton, it was pretty full-on, and included GETTING AN AWARD, BEING MENTIONED ON NATIONAL RADIO, and HAVING MI5 ADDING ME AS A FRIEND!

It all began relatively quietly.

Friday evening, after posting Feelgood Friday, I decided it was time to up my site traffic hits from "some" to into "double figures", so I did some very shallow research on blog directories, and submitted my blog URL to a few of them (you will see the little voting box things of some of them way down somewhere near the bottom of the page. Some didn't make it, 'cos the whole process is a bit boring/confusing - too bad, their loss), ignoring in the process one of my favourite Groucho Marx  quotes "I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members".

Groucho (with mum) as a child

Then I checked my email In box and discovered that my activities on Yahoo!Answers had resulted in my getting a Violation notice for incorrect usage of the question/answer forum (that was in response to a question I had answered in the "Entertainment > Jokes and Riddles" section (those guys have NO sense of humour), and yet another one of my answers being "reported" (had posted that one in the very serious "Gaming" section, so I didn't really expect them to take it as a joke). The guy in the "Cars + Automobiles" section (who was asking for reviews of a Citroen blahblahnumbersanstuff that he was thinking of buying) hadn't reported me though ("Hi!" if he's reading), so that was a plus. I suppose it balanced out the karma of DreamCat voting mine the best answer to her "It's raining, I'm bored" question on Friday (hope you're still reading, DreamCat!).


Having had my wrists slapped by Yahoo!Answers, and actually feeling somehow pleased with myself for my carefree rebelliousness, I continued on my random surfing crusade, only to be stopped in my tracks on the BoingBoing website by the Battle of the Cheetos game. I don't know if Cheetos are actually on sale in the UK, certainly they aren't available in Trumpton (but then, not much is), but they look like the US equivalent of the UK's Cheesy Wotsits crisps. Anyway, it was a full-on war game, with some kind of puffed wheat snack food wearing full body armour. I'm a Scot, and us Scots love fighting, especially battles, so I had to join in. That was my justification for spending the next 20 minutes choosing my flag design and colours. The fact that I'm a Scot was also my justification of why it took me less than 60 seconds to loose. I have no justification at all for the fact that I lost BECAUSE I SHOT MY OWN CHEETO FOOT SOLDIERS! I could only look on in despair as my brave Cheeto soldiers were blasted into clouds of orange-tinged wheaty-puff oblivion by the missile I had launched only seconds earlier. Call them Cheetos or call them Cheesy Wotists, those little guys may have been puffs, but they were brave puffs, nonetheless. (SFX "Reveille" "Taps").

Yanking myself back to work (but with a heavy heart), I went over to Exposeyourblog and did my blogsurfing duty, visiting other bloggers pages. Among the blogs that came up during my surf, was a particularly notable one "Nascont Benedictine" by a benedictine monk. As the surf portal doesn't let you see the URL address, and as Mr Monk [N.B. no disrespect intended by that link, only a questionable sense of humour] doesn't have a followers button, I couldn't find the site again. I couldn't even leave a comment, as they all seemed to be in Latin (I was gonna say "Hi! I'm a Dudeist priest - like your prayers!"). Cool site to end my evening on, though, which was exactly what I did.

Saturday, I was giving my eyes a rest (hoping they would return to being round, and loose the square shape that they're beginning to assume). So I went out and had a wild night on the town* (*that's a complete lie - I went down to my mum's, had dinner, and watched "The Boat That Rocks" with her - good film). But, on returning home, I couldn't resist turning on my overworked laptop to see if I had any emails, or if any more followers had joined my site, or if my blog happened to have caught the attention of anyone which then resulted in them giving me an award..... or anything.

I had! They did! It did! It had! (This is me trying to condense the story from "long winded" to merely "lengthy")

WOOP WOOP WOOP!

My new follower is a real person, who I actually know in real life, who thinks my blog is funny (mind you, she is on the verge of being certifiable). Hello Itchin Stitchin! Welcome to Madness - your home planet!

The Award is from an employee of blog directory AddYourBlog (I haven't -yet!) who obviously has far to much time on her hands, but who equally obviously has a superb taste in humour blogs! I don't know how she (Alessandra - I'm presuming that's the female version of the name???) found my site, 'cos I didn't submit my blog to AddYourBlog (mebbe she was thinking of buying a Citroen blahblahnumbersanstuff and saw my witty, yet irrelevant reply on Yahoo!Answers???).

Apparently my blog was hand selected to receive the Award:

...... to honor your hard
work and dedication in providing a quality web log.
Requirements:

1)Quality Web Content.

2)Great Design .

3)Web Log Everyone Will Love To Read .

My first reaction was to be deeply suspicious that this was some clever marketing ploy to encourage me to join their directory (a bit rich on my part considering I had spent several hours the previous day trying to do exactly that with other directories!). My second reaction was "Who cares, even if it is a clever marketing ploy? I've won an Award - and it's shiny, almost!" My third reaction was "How can I discover the technology to cleverly market my blog by running round giving (almost) shiny awards to big, popular blog sites? (still working on that one).  

My final reaction was to wait until today (Monday) to follow the link which would allow me to collect my Award badge, turn off my tired computer, and go to bed, with a smile on my face!

But it didn't end there.........

The time was 3.30am (Brit time), and the Richard Allinson Show was on BBC Radio 2. I'm usually just getting off to bed at the time, so I am a regular listener. I had just turned the radio on, when Richard announced that submissions for inclusion into the 3.46 club were being accepted by text and email. The 3.46 club is where you text/email in with an explanation of why you are up at that time in the morning. If your reason is interesting enough, Richard gives a shout-out to you on his show. I had often heard this feature, but never thought to call in......

Until now.....

I only had 15 minutes to submit my reason for being up at such an hour.......

I texted that I was up 'cos I had been working on my blog, and that I was dancing around my room 'cos it had just won an Award. I cheekily included my blog name, just in case.

Then I decided that it would probably be a good idea to go back downstairs and add the Award badge to my blog, on the off chance that a researcher for Richard's show would look up my blog to check it out (I can dream, can't I?), or that a bored listener would surf by to see it. By this time it was 3.33. I had no time to loose.

I managed to coerce my computer into booting-up in far less time than it usually takes (I say computer, it's actually a little laptop, with no memory - a fact that it consistently reminds me of, which is probably a good thing, otherwise it might start suffering from some kind of laptop trauma as a result of my surfing habits, and I'd have to get it special treatment). It gets very tired, especially when it's had a busy night, but I coaxed it by telling it that this was an amazing opportunity that could make me, and vicariously it ("her" actually, she's a Goddess even though she doesn't have a name) famous. Amazingly enough, she co-operated (DON'T try to tell me that inanimate objects have no feelings - they DO, and often they're feelings are VENGEFUL).

My laptop and I managed to get the Award sewn-onto my blog page at 3.46am ....... finishing at the exact same moment Richard Allinson chose to give me a shout out THAT INCLUDED MY BLOG NAME!!!!!!

ON BRITAIN'S MOST LISTENED TO RADIO STATION!!!!!!!

DOUBLE WOOP WOOP WOOP-DE-WOOP!!!!!!!!

Now I was dancing around the room again!

Too much excitement!

I went back to bed, happy in the knowledge that, not only had my blog won an Award, but it had succeeded in gaining National recognition, finally, after [checks watch] almost five weeks of hard graft. 

Thank you Richard Allinson. This post is dedicated to you. You are my Hero!

My Hero!

P.S. To those of you who are paying attention rather than drifting off to sleep, I know I haven't mentioned how it came about that MI5 have added me as their friend. But it's true. I'm just exhausted after re-living the events of the last two days, so have to rest now. With a nice cup of tea. I will, however, explain all about it in another post. I promise (no, it doesn't matter how much you all protest, dear readers, you will get an explanation at some future date, whether you want it or not!).

Feelgood Friday #2

In last weeks Feelgood Friday post, I promised that these posts would be purely visual. I lied (so sue me)!

I did mean it at the time of writing, but today I got some news that I just have to share.

In an effort to promote my blog in an imaginative (shameless) way, I have recently been surfing Yahoo!Answers and answering open questions, sometimes cleverly, sometimes blatantly, but always including my blog URL.

I've just found out that one of my efforts has been voted THE BEST ANSWER!

Ironic or what?!

Thanks DreamCat, this post is dedicated to you!

ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND!

Mr Cheese

So there I was, minding my own business, just having signed-in to my blogging dashboard, when I saw that I had two new comments to moderate. Ooo..... exciting! What comments had been left?

I quickly opened the "view comments" link, and saw that there were two comments left by someone whose name I didn't recognise (wow - a stranger, even more exciting!), with a blog called I Like Cheese. Those of you familiar with blogging will tell you that a person's blog title does not necessarily give you any indication of what they're like, or what they're blog is about, so the blog title gave me no clue. None whatsoever. Not a hint. I decided to read his comments before checking out his blog.

Freaky Trees

During a brief interlude at the weekend when I had actually managed to prise myself away from my computer, I read an article in The Sunday Post (Scotland's newspaper of choice, apparently), about Ghostly Trees.
Unfortunately, The Sunday Post is yet to enter the 21st century, so I cannot give you a link to the story as I originally read it, but here's the story as reported by the

A Weekend of Cyber Surfing

Greetings Readers!
How did you spend your weekend? Did you have fun? Go to places you've never been before? Meet new and interesting people? Get drunk?


I did all of the above, and more.... well, I virtually did - I didn't actually get drunk because the whole experience was traumatic enough without alcohol being involved!

Feelgood Friday!

In order to cater for my thousands of readers generally, and specifically the two of you who think my posts are toooooo long (you know who you are, you'll be getting a visit anytime soon from some of "my people"), I've decided to start a "Feelgood Friday" post, which will be a solely visual communication (e.g. a cartoon!).

The Members of My Household

Although I officially live alone, I actually share my home with a number of other beings (not counting the ones in my head, or even the alien invader ones, who are lurking somewhere behind the skirting board). I'm talking about bugs. Specifically spiders.

OMG! I've Just become an Ordained Priest!

OMG! I've just become an Ordained Priest of the Church of the Latter-Day Dudes! Coo-el!

I can't believe it! I've wanted to do this since...ohhh...let me think....since I saw it on some random guy's site earlier this evening! Isn't the Internet just the coolest??? I'm beginning to worry that I'm getting an online American accent. Bovered? Me? Ahm ah bovered? (Think that's sorted it!)

Anyway, back to ME BECOMING A DUDEIST PRIEST!

I got a certificate an everything! - it's embossed!

I've even got a new link badge on the site (did you notice it?)

Isn't it brilliant when you have days where you end up doing something that you had absolutely no clue about when you woke up? Doesn't it add a bit of mystery to life? 

Come to think of it, most days are like that for me.

My whole life is a mystery.

JUST AS WELL I'M AN ORDAINED PRIEST THEN, ISN'T IT? I can go and meditate/chill, and ask myself deep and meaningless questions. 

Of course, I could do that before (and did), but it wasn't the same. Now that I'm a priest, I can do it professionally, as it were.

PLUS - according to the Church of the Latter-Day Dudes website, I can now officiate over weddings in certain states! How cool is THAT!? Of course, this is an American-based site (again, of course!), so I reckon I'll have a bit of a hunt to find anywhere in Britain that will recognise my newly acquired Dudeist Priest credentials. But, hey! who cares? I've never been a priest before! 

As Dudeism is based on the teachings of "The Dude" in the film "The Big Lebowski", (very loosely, and I stress, very loosely, combined with the basic ideals of Buddhism and Taoism) I think that the official garb of my new priest status is a bathrobe. That's cool. Can do. And that the main teachings of my new found religion are "Take it easy, man". Also, fine by me.

I reckon my next task will be to establish my own country online, specifically so that I can nominate Dudeism as the Official Religion, and bathrobes as the official National costume. Excellent!

World domination draws ever nearer!


Watch this space.....! (it doesn't do anything, except give you something to focus on)......



(seriously, you can stop now)

(really - you're beginning to freak me out a bit, man)

Million Dollar Mum

Now and again, something (or someone!) happens that inspires me to write a piece of poetry.
My mother is a constant source of amazement to me. Whatever life throws at her, she catches, and handles with grace and aplomb. I wrote this poem for her years ago, before the advent of the National Lottery (thus the reference to the "pools" - a national sweep stake here in the UK which she used to enter regularly).

To Google or to Goggle?

The area in which I live was the first in Britain to be switched over to the new, improved digital television receivers.

At the time, I must have been one of only a handful of people who didn't rush out to buy a "digi-box" which would have enabled me to get the new, digital signal once the old, analogue signal was turned off. 

"Why not?", I hear all five of you readers calling out simultaneously (I'm very impressed you managed that, dear readers!). "Why didn't you rush out to buy a digi box?"  (Wow, you must have been practising together!).

Tablet Trials

It was my eldest brother's birthday recently, and I decided that I would make him a present. This had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I happened to be skint that week (!). It was going to be an entirely altruistic gesture of sibling love. I set about thinking what I could make him that he'd really like. That would really mean something. That he could get lots of pleasure from. (That wouldn't cost much for basic materials!). Hmmmmm......... Then it came to me..... I could make him a batch of TABLET!

Random News Stories

It amazes me how many stories I hear on the radio news that don't make it to television news. It's such a shame, as the stories that get missed out on television are often the ones that I think are the best. Okay, so we need updates on what the government/economy/USA is doing, as it affects our daily lives. But what about the alligator loose on the streets of a small town in Germany??? Or the arm found on the motorway here in Britain??? Or the riot in Northern Ireland that was stopped because a policeman played ice-cream van music over his police car tannoy??? These were the stories that stopped me in my tracks recently.

Short and Sweet

Prologue: Yesterday, one of readers commented that he thought my blogs were very like me - a bit too long winded. I was cut to the core at the injustice of the remark. But remembered reading somewhere that, in order to gain followers, a good blogger will respond to comments, thereby creating a loyal readership. I have decided to follow this advice so, having received a comment (from one of the four of you out there, you know who you are) I have decided to wipe away my tears, and treat it as positive, constructive criticism, and write a shorter blog. Any of the three remaining readers are more than welcome to send a protest comment about my blog being too short. I'll be waiting.......

Here follows the actual blog post......

Trumpton, Trumptonshire

When I was a little, I used to sit in my Dad's lap while we watched a children's television programme called Trumpton together. A mythical town, set somewhere in England (Trumptonshire - no, really, I looked it up!), it had a cast of plasticine characters who all got on famously with each other, in a stop-motion animated kinda way. Every episode would bring a minor emergency (bring out the Trumpton Fire Brigade!), or a celebration, or some sort of event which would be handled in a very sensible manner by the inhabitants of the town, and which could only be described as exciting if you lived in a very tiny place where not much happens (like, a caravan on an island, an island where you are the sole occupant). If you were a child in the late '60's/early '70's , late '70's/early '80's, you will know Trumpton. And Camberwick Green. And Chigley.