Author: roobeedoo2

I like shambles. If you don't then this is not a site for you. It's your choice to stick around.

‘Owls With Laughter…

Redrum Bathroom 1

*There you are! /taps foot… I got back really quickly. Where have you been, Clicky?

merovee-daisy-owl

*Red Franks? I left you at Blue Franks… Clicky, dinner is about to arrive and Thoughtful Man and I have ‘Suicide Squad’ to watch… I wanted to write this post before he got home from work… /wrings hands… *

opposite-choice-to-the-matrix

*Chocolate? You think you can get round me with… chocolate? /takes both… Delicious… Damn, did you hear that?*

doctor-with-protruding-ears

*That’s Thoughtful Man pulling up now… Okay, Clicky, laters…*

*******

roob-touches-base-with-hugo

legs-touches-base-with-roobroob-and-legs-continued

*Clicky… Dear Reader doesn’t want spoilers! …/taps…*

*/squint…*

*******

*******

*/shields eyes from daylight to stop stinging sensation… Clicky!  Oh fuck, my eyes… Clicky?!*

i-wanna-hold-your-hand

*Oh there you are…/kisses snout… Make us a cuppa, Clicky? …/groans and lights up… What the fuck happened last night?*

roob-monologuing-suicide-squad

*Monologued with Legs… Yeah, what else?*

*/slurps and drags… Then what?*

*Oh yeah, fuck… the Debate… That was fucking excellent…*

james-roobee-and-miss-plato-on-twitter-this-morning

*Hey! Have you been wearing my Rubedo mask again, Clicky? I was asleep 49 minutes ago… I know, I still have the taste in my mouth… /lights another… Better…*

doctor-hoots

*Oh yeah, owls… or is that ‘owls?*

secondhand-rose

*Alright, let me get myself together, Clicky… /yawns… I think I’ll have another coffee… /stop hand sign… It’s okay, darling, I’ll do it…*

*******

Owls, Dear Reader. MEROVEE Frank mentioned owls in his last (sew above)…

petesquiz-sew-below-fitting-together-at-blue-franks

… And puzzles and that’s exactly what PetesQuiz wrote about putting ‘the pieces of the jigsaw together’ in the ‘sew below’ at Blue Frank’s follow up to his ‘Defining the Future’ earlier on today…

shock-doc

*I know! How did he know I was going to use from TBBT in this post?!*

Dear Reader, we have a number of owls at the LoL…

OWL One

owl-1

None of our owls have names. This fella came from the Packer side of the family. It used to be a table lamp; I’m not sure if Grandad bought it or was given it by German POWs in WW2 – he was Captain of a camp in Egypt and was given lots of carvings by prisoners who appreciated his fair and even-handed treatment. But it hasn’t cast light in a long time…

OWL 2 (and friend)

owl-2

I don’t know where these guys came from, but they look down on me in the Library every day.

OWLS 3

owl-3

I remember exactly when these fellas arrived. It was the day the boys broke up from school for Christmas. Thoughtful Man and I were waiting in the playground to collect them. Thoughtful Man had gone off with Kit Kat (who was always first out) for a chat with one of the other dads. I was standing aside, stamping my feet and blow out pretend smoke with my frozen, crystalised breath.

Suddenly I spotted Loops’, smiling from ear to ear, rushing toward me. He looked so excited. Then I saw his puffing, red face teacher, plodding along on behind. She was laden with… OMG, what the fuck was she carrying and why is she mouthing ‘I’m so sorry’ in my direction?!

“Mummy! I got you a Christmas present!” Loopy exclaimed, wrapping his little arms around my waist. “Owls!”

 

*******

*Brilliant! Finished it at last, Clicky… /yawn… I think I’ll slip off to bed for a recharge… Give Dear Reader a Song, please…*

Ping Pong Piddle Pogo

A number of things in the last 24 hours have led me to consider writing a post about Peter Sellers…

*No Clicky, nothing to do with Kubrick…*

I have posted about Peter Sellers before, at Sync Miss For Him…

seller-door-1

*Well, I hope Dear Reader takes a look and a loiter, Clicky… It’s a bit like being handed somebody’s holiday snaps, though – it’s hard to enthuse unless you’re really interested or were actually there*

But yesterday evening, Red Frank posted ‘Love Hurts‘ at MEROVEE and included the Pink Pan-ther…

red-frank-posts-pink-panther

*Kardashian? Hmm…*

Meanwhile I was having a conversation with Cade about books and poetry and ‘overt lurking‘…

seller-door-2

Plus Hugo was in a peculiar mood…

hugo-and-roob-dm-convo

And then today, in conversation with Legs about his moving home…

roob-and-legs-dm-convo-1

*Okay, maybe a little bit to do with Kubrick, Clicky… but it was more about the comment Cade left at Leggy’s place…*

roob-and-legs-dm-convo-2

cades-poem-at-ubu

*Jcrashinthecar…dashian, Clicky? …/rolls eyes…*

But it continued…

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roob-and-legs-dm-convo-3

*A PA, Clicky? …/holds up hands…*

roob-and-legs-dm-convo-4

In Internet culture, a lurker is typically a member of an online community or PLN who observes, but does not actively participate.

*******

Obituary dated 3rd of October…

obituary-for-hermione-harvey

Have a Song…

Fingering Fynella

I was formulating a post in my head, when the Okie Texas Devil, Cade, stopped by the Library…

do-you-mind-if-i-smoke

*Funny thing happened when I was searching for the clip, Clicky… I was reminded that Doctor Who was in ‘Carry On Screaming’…*

cos-cast

doctor-fettle-looks-for-a-book

doctor-pertwee

*Legs calls him a popinjay, Click, but then Leggy is either No.1 or 13… *

oscar-for-grouchiness

*An Oscar for grouchiness, right… so I think I’ve worked out who are 4, 9, 10, 11, 12 and 13… or one… ish… it’s not easy, you know, Clicky…*

awkward

*Tell me about it… / sigh*

Anyhoo… Dear Reader, the rest of the post I was working on was left in reply to Cade’s comment, sew… if your interested, go take a look.

It has been a mystery ever since it was discovered more than fifty years ago, and all good theoretical physicists put this number up on their wall and worry about it.) Immediately you would like to know where this number for a coupling comes from: is it related to pi or perhaps to the base of natural logarithms? Nobody knows. It’s one of the greatest damn mysteries of physics: a magic number that comes to us with no understanding by man. You might say the “hand of God” wrote that number, and “we don’t know how He pushed his pencil.” We know what kind of a dance to do experimentally to measure this number very accurately, but we don’t know what kind of dance to do on the computer to make this number come out, without putting it in secretly!

Written in the sands of time… in which case perhaps god just used a finger?

 

137-maths

*Ah, Christmas… Clicky, give us a Song…*

Guise and Doll

In July last year, I saw a Shiny Tinman floating by the Bankside…

Floating on Air by the River Bank

*Clicky, I walked past him twice; I couldn’t see how he did it… he’s on a hidden seat, supported by the pole and anchored by the base… Leggy explained exactly how it was done on DM but I’m buggered if I can find…

*No, Clicky, DM… Direct Message on Twitter… Although my boss at the time did call me Penfold… I think it was my glasses…*

pepper-potts

*Crikey! No, Commish called me Pepper…*

commish-gordon

*Yeah, I miss my chats with Commish… Nevermind, what’s done is done…*

*******

The other day Thoughtful Man brought to my attention a post on his FaceArseBook feed: ‘10 Terrifying Toys From the Past‘. Now, if you’re of a nervous disposition, or require a designated ‘safe space’, can I suggest that you refrain from employing Clicky to explore the link, and go find a quiet corner in which to curl up and cry…

 

So then, creepy and dangerous toys that were given to children by adults. A couple caught my eye, although all of them sync…

toy-shamble

*A shambles… /waits… Clicky, I said shambles… Oh for god’s sake! Get over here and dry your eyes…*

And Hugo…

toy-hugo

*Hmm, I wonder if Mike Myers once got a Hugo for Christmas…*

A live bird automata…

live-bird-toy

*No, Clicky, that’s a man in a bird suit…*

And, syncing with Red Frank’s latest post on MEROVEE…

and_the_anonymous_nobody_album_cover-e1475169921749

little-miss-no-name-toy

*Actually, Clicky, No.10 the guillotine toy is sort of Frankish what with it being inspired by the French Revolution… And it was named after a doctor… /grins… Ha! Did you see the the fall…*

Last night I read a post of Cade’s at Sync Miss For Him. One in which he used his formula, and it got me thinking of Helen Keller and how she was taught to write…

In 1886, Keller’s mother, inspired by an account in Charles Dickens’ American Notes of the successful education of another deaf and blind woman, Laura Bridgman, dispatched young Helen, accompanied by her father, to seek out physician J. Julian Chisolm, an eye, ear, nose, and throat specialist in Baltimore, for advice. Chisholm referred the Kellers to Alexander Graham Bell, who was working with deaf children at the time. Bell advised them to contact the Perkins Institute for the Blind, the school where Bridgman had been educated, which was then located in South Boston. Michael Anagnos, the school’s director, asked 20-year-old former student Anne Sullivan, herself visually impaired, to become Keller’s instructor. It was the beginning of a 49-year-long relationship during which Sullivan evolved into Keller’s governess and eventually her companion.

Anne Sullivan arrived at Keller’s house in March 1887, and immediately began to teach Helen to communicate by spelling words into her hand, beginning with “d-o-l-l” for the doll that she had brought Keller as a present. Keller was frustrated, at first, because she did not understand that every object had a word uniquely identifying it. In fact, when Sullivan was trying to teach Keller the word for “mug”, Keller became so frustrated she broke the mug. Keller’s big breakthrough in communication came the next month, when she realized that the motions her teacher was making on the palm of her hand, while running cool water over her other hand, symbolized the idea of “water”; she then nearly exhausted Sullivan demanding the names of all the other familiar objects in her world.

And speak…

To communicate. I have no idea if that was Cade’s intention but that’s what it did for…

*And you, Clicky… /strokes snout…*

A Handful of Spunk

fruity-spunk

“Whatcha doing?”

I didn’t turn round to answer Thoughtful Man as I was trying not to lose focus. “Taking photos.”

“No, I can see that,” he said with his usual air of exasperation. “What are you photographing and why?”

salty-spunk

“Oh, it’s a sweetie present Poppy sent me,” I said. “It’s for a LoL post.”

“What?” he asked with his usual air of confusion. “Da baby leaves us presents but they ain’t so sweet,” he continued in a baby sing-song voice.

Now I was confused so turned round to see him holding our darling dooshund, Poppy. He was obviously addressing her with the cutesy tone. She could obviously smell something tasty, as she was attempting to dig her way out from under his arm to get to me.

“Ah, not Popstar here, Leggy’s girlfriend Poppy from Denmark… she’s sent me some Spunk. Would you like to try some?” I asked innocently.

“No thanks,” he said wrinkling his nose. “Spunk? Have you tried them yet?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

I adopted a serious expression. “Well, they’re hard jellies. The fruity flavoured ones are nice but got stuck in my throat. I’m afraid I spat the salty liquorice one out,” I reported.

Thoughtful Man looked at me intently. “So you both spit and swallow Spunk,” he said slowly, “and you’re going to tell everyone this in a post?”

“Yes,” I said with a vigorous nod. “She also sent me some pipes in a handy travel pack.”

liquorice-pipes

“Oh for god’s sake,” he sighed with his usual air of weariness, turning to leave with the pooch. “Ploppy and I are off the bed. Have fun with your sex and smoking whatever…”

*******

I also received an image of a book this morning, from MEROVEE Frank…

book-image-sent-by-merovee-frank

And then a tweet caught my attention…

So I opened it and read the mined lines…

sensitive-to-mindlines-orange-you-question-mark

clicky-ook-ok-go

*I saw that, Clicky… the Librarian has an understanding of the power of  L-Space…*

‘prestigious (adj.)1540s, “practicing illusion or magic, deceptive,” from Latin praestigious “full of tricks,” from praestigiae “juggler’s tricks,” probably altered by dissimilation from praestrigiae, from praestringere “to blind, blindfold, dazzle,” from prae “before” (see pre-) + stringere “to tie or bind” (see strain (v.)). Derogatory until 19c.; meaning “having dazzling influence” is attested from 1913 (see prestige). Related: Prestigiously; prestigiousness.’

I’d seen and listened to ‘The Strain‘ just last night…

leggy-has-the-strain

*Ah, Clicky… SA Vile… They really went to town on him after he was dead and unable to mount a defence…*

*******

Thoughtful Man and Poppy returned from their afternoon nap. I was glued to my screen, constructing my post.

“Are you still at it?” he asked dumping the dog on my lap before taking his customary place in the Library.

“Hmm? Yes… did you have a good sleep?”

Thoughtful Man yawned and set Clicky to work. “No, the bitch took up most of the bed. Did you see that a train crashed in New York earlier?”

I looked up startled – I’d just been looking at a train video. “No. I’ve been doing this. What happened?” I opened a tab to check the news.

google-news

*Hobo Ken… is that like tramp knowledge… Street smarts, Clicky? …/thinks… Have a Song…*

 

Inside, Outside, Upside Down

‘How much is a ‘fuckton’? In measurement; I’m not trying to procure one. Is it on the same scale as a ‘shitload’?’

This is the question I asked my Sync Miss For Him chum Cade | Fon | Apollyon at the weekend…

*Hmm, knot quite like that, Clicky… *

roob-discusses-measurements-with-legs

*Clicky, that’s Legs knot Cade… but, yeah, I mentioned it to him this evening…*

legs-suggests-further-measurements-to-roob*Yikes! Knot something you’d serve your maiden aunt for Sunday tea, Clicky*

Lucky for me Cade also replied…

‘Would you prefer “a metric fuckton” or “a standard metric fuckton” or “a shitload of fucktons” or “a shitton” or a fucking shitload of fucktons”?

‘Come on now…ya gotta be specific when dealing with the “non-quantifiable.” ;-)

‘Lemme do this…
Texas Slang: Shitload, or, A Shitload = way too fucking much. Usually, “an unexpected amount of a known quantity.”

‘Kinda like God “pouring out his blessings on you” and you are like….”MOTHERFUCKER!!! What in the FUCK do you expect me to do with all this shit?!?!?” :lol

‘Fuckton = incomprehensible only in the fact that it is basically a shitload of shitloads, but it is such a large amount, that it is really irrelevant as it is too much data to process. So much so, that it is easily quantifiable by “taking only what you need, and leaving the rest.”

‘That’s just my opinion tho.’
:-D

 

pervertin-cade-merovee-strictly-come-dancing

*I know, I saw that at MEROVEE Frank’s… Knot sure where a ‘shithead’ comes on the scale but it’s gotta  be more than a ‘wank’… That’s something, Clicky*

Of course I replied to Cade…

‘No, brilliant, thanks :-D I wasn’t sure and I appreciate the clarification…

‘So a fuckton is a bit like tapas then?

‘Which is different to a buffet, that being similar to a shamble…

‘Would some sort of shitload/fuckton conversion table help, I wonder ;-)

‘Cade, would you mind if I used your last reply in a shamble at the LoL?’

*No it’s definitely tapas, Clicky… think dancing, knot the Strictly Come kind… /thinks… hear*

*Got it?*

‘Um…not sure I follow the meaning exactly…but as far as using my response in whatever wherever whenever…knock yerself out. It’s yours. I wrote it for you/to you, with no strings attached…save for it’s yours to do with as you please (not like I really need to tell you this…but…yeah…or something.) ;-)‘

*That was very nice of Cade. I can’t help feeling his ‘∞ = -1 + 0 + 1 = ∞’ formula has something to do with Room 101… He did turn up at the LoL about that time, Clicky…*

Meanwhile Hugo gave my story submission for the Christmas edition of the Underdog Anthology a spit and polish…

hugo-and-roob-discuss-secret-santa

*And some twist suggestions, Clicky, which are private… /glowers… Do that again, shithead, and you’ll be in so much trouble…*

*Damn straight, I’m your boss. Do it again and you’ll be in fuckton of trouble… or a lesser amount yet to be determined… /thinks… More than a shitload… Consider this a ‘bollocking’, Clicky…*

‘8-) I like to ask beforehand – I’ve included ‘private’ messages from Hugo and Legs in my shambles before. Shambles are… magical lenses… L-sense. An idea, not a belief, springing from the pages of a book. I’m with Rufus :lol

‘Fortunately nobody has said no, and I didn’t think you would… I’m happy to receive an advantage, not comfortable at all with just taking it ;-)

‘Do you know, I’d never heard of Jeff Buckley until tonight? My music knowledge is utter ‘wank’ (this doesn’t ever approach a ‘shitload’, never mind a ‘fuckton’)…

‘Thank you, Cade :love:‘

roob-brings-syncs-to-hugo

*Yeah… changed the title a bit and, yes, I realise it’s s a day late… Thought what with Jeff Buckley being pulled under and of course couldn’t overlook that Shiny is back… /clocks time… Shit! Getting late… Song time, Clicky?*

*/squints…*

 

 

Moonday Meander…

danny-knot-talking-1

*Clicky, what are you doing? That’s the last gif in the sequence, not first… /thinking eye tremor… You cheeky bugger! …/squint…*

slow-coach

*:O… Alright then clever clogs, you do it…*

doctor-rolls-up-sleeve

*******

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237-smoking

*Hey, that’s cheating, I already posted that one… oh no, similar… carry on…*

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*Ha! I know I posted Dick’s furious windscreen wipers… Shit, knot the same one either…*

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*Yeah, alright, that’s pretty good… Damn… /thinks… Hey Clicky, look squirrel!*

*******

“Wake up!” said voice and hand in perfect synchronicity. The former, gruffly, and the latter shakily.

“Wha…I’m not sleeping,” I stated, less than convincingly. “I’m listening with my eyes shut.”

Thoughtful Man and I were watching ‘X Men Apocalypse‘. Well, he was, I’d fallen asleep.

“You were bloody snoring.” He turned round to look at me. “You and the pup in harmony. It was more entertaining than that pile of crap.”

I shift up into a sitting position, careful not to disturb the snoozing dachshund by my side She looked so peaceful lying under the quilt, with just her head poking out, resting on my pillow. Like a human.

“No good?” I yawned.

Thoughtful Man looked at me. “You’re the one that fell asleep, you tell me,” he drawled.

I lent over and plucked a rollie from the box of home-mades on the bed. “At least you managed to stay awake,” I said lighting it.

“My eyelids did flutter for a bit,” he said turning his attention back to the tv. “But you and Poppy kept me awake. The boys are bathed and in bed, by the way.”

I kissed the top of his head, picked up my iPad and clocked the time. Still earlyish; I started idling through my emails.

“Ooh, ‘Young Ones’!” Thoughtful Man cried out and stopped clicking the remote. He faced me again, this time with screwed up his eyes, “I know this one… first season, last episode. ‘Flood’.”

Even though we’d caught the programme near the end, he still got it. And so we watched the seminal comedy of our youth, and oh how I LOLled…

*Enjoy that did you, Clicky? That Foamy, what a wheeze… do you want to carry on with what you were doing now? You’re doing a bang up job… /raises thumbs…*

*******

*… /waits… Is that it? Anymore? …/squints… *

danny-knot-talking-1

Many apols, Dear Reader. On behalf of Clicky and I, please accept a Song…

 

Sat ‘Ere Day, Musing…

danny-talking-11

hall-running-doc

*Hall Ran? LOL, Clicky… That’s from ‘Love and Monsters‘ first broadcast on Saturday 17th June 2006, watched by 6,66 million viewers…*

Sumthing… Old…

Last night I reread… looked over… and then tweeted out an old post of my good friend Legs Eleven…

life-came-from-gods-butt

 

Sumthing… New…

From the Old Lady of Threadneedle street – the UK has a brand new fiver. It’s still blue 😉 Thoughtful Man got one last night whilst out working, and showed it to me this morning. It’s shiny and can survive a battering…

knot-talking-dick-25

*What? …/innocent face*

Mrs Reign one side, smoker Winnie on t’other… see-through window…

new-fiver-window

*Saturn 5… I guess Big Ben does look a bit like a rocket, Clicky…*

Sumthing… Borrowed…

‘I PROMISE TO PAY THE BEARER ON DEMAND THE SUM OF FIVE POUNDS’

*/shows empty hands… Clicky, you’re on your own for this one…*

toast-of-london-too

*Knot a waffle man then, Clicky? …/arches eyebrow…*

toast-of-london

*Clicky, you realise ‘toast‘ – ‘to brown with heat’ derives from ‘terrain’ – ‘piece of earth’?*

steven-toast

*/rolls eyes…*

Sumthing… Blew…

*/stretch… Last one… I’ve passed tense now, Clicky… we’ll get this out before the end of Saturday…*

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who-question-mark

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*I suppose with bad comes good and with good comes bad, Clicky… we just have to make the best of it… /shrugs… *

*Really?! Oh for fucks sake, Clicky, couldn’t you get a better Song?*

*Much better… /blows kiss…*

Freaky Furzeday

freakyYes, I know today’s Friday, but I was kinda busy yesterday, Dear Reader. And this post is about yesterday, so if this presents a problem, you know what to Doo…

Clicky and I will b rambling…

freak

feyn-man

*That’s the spirit…*

*******

talking-dick-18

“What are you doing?” Thoughtful Man asked, leaning down to peer at my computer screen.

“Just posting a comment,” I replied, charging Clicky with sending it. “Oh poo! It’s in moderation. Too many links.”

I was on Merovee, Red Frank’s site knot-I-sing another 137 spot. I realise it’s a pointless exercise but I rather think that’s the point.

danny-talking-9

Thoughtful Man grunted and sat down on his chair. He looked decidedly hot and bothered. It could have just been the heat but I didn’t want to take the chance, so sent Clicky off for a nap.

“I can’t stand this weather. Look at me, I’m dripping,” he said wiping his brow.

“You do look sweaty,” I agreed whilst sitting in my own pool of salty water. “Well, what have we gotta do today?”

Thoughtful Man huffed and sighed. “It’s parents evening at the school tonight. Your sister will be here at five… we’ll need to tidy up, hoover.”

Juju had agreed to sit dog Princess Poppy for us whilst we traipsed up to the school to hear what Year 11 has in store for the boys.

“Fuck! That means I’ll have iron them a couple of extra shirts,” I said, slumping back into my huge, leather Library chair and instantly regretting it. “And the bedding upstairs also needs changing…”

A look of resignation and then something else crossed his face. Thoughtful Man stood up and, holding out his hand, said “We should just go upstairs and do it.”

Ah, so that’s what that other look was.

bird-man

*Alright, Clicky. Calm down…*

talking-dick-19

“Juju, can I ask you to do me a favour?” I asked my sister later whilst wrangling with the ironing board. Everything pressed to perfection, all we had to do now was to get going.

She sat in the Library, playing with Clicky. Poppy stood in front of her, ball in mouth, wagging her tail expectantly. “What’s that, babycheeks,” Juju answered absentmindedly. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or the dog but carried on regardless.

“When we’re out tonight, could you read something for me? It’s a friend’s novel that I’ve been editing. It’s his first.”

“Is that the one is Scotland?”

“No, that’s Legs. This is Hugo Stone, I think he lives in Wolverhampton or around that area,” I said, squishing her along the seat so I could get to my keyboard. “It’s called ‘Cultish’ and it’s about ‘Satan, the apocalypse and lollipops’.”

Poppy dropped the sodden ball at her feet; Juju picked it up and threw it.”Sounds interesting. Okay,” she said over the sound of skittering nails.

“Be honest. Read as much as you want and then tell me what you think of it when we get back.”

Thoughtful Man appeared with two miserable but smartly dressed 15 year olds in tow. “Get off the fucking computer now. Come on, we’ll be late,” he barked.

Poppy didn’t know whether to follow the sea of retreating legs or get Juju to throw the ball again. The decision was out of her paws, however; we said our goodbyes and set off.

sexy-tardis

*I think I call you ‘a pain in the arse’, Clicky… No wonder Dumey doesn’t put up a fight over you… Can I get on with it now?*

carry-on-doctor

danny-talking-10

Two hours later and we were nearly home. The auditorium had been packed, sweltering and noisy, the boys’ grades from the exams at the end of year 10, disappointing, and the only teacher available to meet with us was the ICT teacher, Mr Hall, and he’d only started there that week. He did have a certain glow but it was more likely due to the excessive heat than any honeymoon period. The only thing of interest was a poster I’d seen outside the school library.

Have you had DIRT.JPG

“I told you it would be a waste of time,” Kit Kat informed us from the back of the taxi via the intercom.

“No. Now I know you need to pull your finger out,” Thoughtful Man replied. His eyes shifted in the rear view mirror, fixing on Loopy. “And you.”

“I explained about maths…” Loops started to explain again, before catching his father’s reflected squint and deciding to shut up.

I tried to change the subject. Sort of. “What was that teacher going on about with PPE?” I asked out loud. “The Polish one, Head of Maths, she kept saying it but I didn’t catch what it meant. It doesn’t involve hard hats, then?” I quipped, lightening the mood, I hoped.

“No,” Thoughtful Man said as he turned the Bonnermobile into our drive and pulled up. “Stands for Pre Public Examination, I think. It’s their Mocks.”

We unbuckled and got out of the van. Juju appeared on our doorstep, Poppy in arms.

“That book you asked me to read,” she said as Poppy strained to give us a welcome home lick. “Filth. Utter filth,” she said sternly.

Time stopped. All five of us stood motionless, the only things moving were my eyeballs and our demented dog’s struggles. When I spoke, my lips, cheeks and tongue felt like they were moving in slow motion.”Didn’t you like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Juju replied, breaking into a smile. “It’s really good but it’s utter filth.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and took Poppy from her. “Oh good. So you liked it?”

Juju waited for Thoughtful Man and boys to move out of earshot. “Yeah,” she confided sotto voce. “And I was wondering if I could, er, take it home with me so I can, you know, finish it?”

believing-man

*******

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*What? …/cocks head… Oh… /furrows brow… My Merovee comment in moderation? I’d forgotten about that, Clicky… 137 ART…*

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*Blue doors and flight… Give us a Song, Clicky…*

Wacky Wednesday

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“Here,” Thoughtful Man called, “Big Chief Double Chopper has had a makeover. Take a look.”

I peered at his computer screen. Big Chief Double Chopper had been mum’s garden Indian that lived in her front room. After she died, her husband Stan took the opportunity to have him re-homed. I don’t blame him; what man wants to face a double chopper on the way to the kitchen first thing in the morning.

“Aw, it’s nice that they’ve sent an update,” I said.

“A bit garish,” Thoughtful Man opined. “Stan’s got a point, though, are red Indians supposed to be black?”

I smiled, recalling a couple of comments Red Frank has posted for me on ‘Scatty Sunday’. “Fuck knows,” I replied, giving him my considered opinion.

*Clicky, random…/sigh*

“Hmm,” I said to myself, sitting down and lighting a rollie.

Thoughtful Man swiveled round in his chair. “What?” he said launching a squint in my direction. We’re far too close, I couldn’t dodge it.

“No, it’s just I was reading about the Lost River yesterday. It was weird how I got there. Actually, I was thinking of writing a post about it…” I trailed off.

“Lost River? What do you mean how you got there?” he probed gently. That was unexpected, he normally doesn’t like to talk to me about my posts but then again he’s a bit of an American history buff – he’d probably heard of it on one of his TV programmes.

*Is that Chief or Chef’s office..? /shakes head… Nevermind…*

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“Okay then,” I hesitated and marshaled my thoughts. “The journey begins in a pub.”

Thoughtful Man continued looking at me without speaking, so I showed him the tweet that had started it. The source. “Lions and tigers and beers…” I trailed off again. I do a lot of that.

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*I know, right… so many syncs, Clicky…* 

“It was the description of the smoking area,” I continued. Clicky escorted him to the page.

Cleckheaton doesn’t have an Ossett pub, but the Rose & Crown is a newbie with a similar atmosphere.  It was more boisterous than my photos imply; lots of £2.60 pints were being carried out to a characterful smoking area.  Worryingly the £2.60 pint of choice seemed to be Ellands 6.5% Porter. Their homebrew pale was enough for me (NBSS 3.5).

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*Yes, Clicky, any mentions of Roobee and his attention does start to wane… and he’s not a beer drinker, though he is fond of a Lion bar… Anyway,  I told him the last line of the article and said to remember it…*

‘Plenty of Bass livery, very little Bass.’

“Is there any chance you might skip to the end?” Thoughtful Man asked politely.

“No. So I looked up the year 1872, of Deep Ruby, and there was this Indian battle of Lost River in the November,” I replied.

‘The Battle of Lost River in November 1872 was the first battle in the Mo Doc War in the northwestern United States. The skirmish, which was fought near the Lost River along the California-Oregon border, was the result of an attempt by the U.S. 1st Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army to force a band of the Modoctribe to relocate back to the Klamath Reservation, which they had left in objection of its conditions.

In the subsequent war, Captain Jack of the Modoc and 53 warriors held off more than 1000 U.S. soldiers for 7 months in the area of the present-day Lava Beds National Monument. Part of this was named Captain Jack’s Stronghold in his honor.’

 

Thoughtful Man sighed heavily and started to swivel round. “Is that it?”

Doctor Hurt

*A little bit, Clicky… /holds out thumb and index finger…*

“Not quite,” I answered. “You forgot the last line.”

Thoughtful Man wrinkled his brow. “Plenty of bass livery, very little bass?”

“Yes,” I smiled. “They’re all in Lost River.”

A sluggish stream, Lost River offers fishing opportunities for bass, up to 7 lb (3.2 kg), brown bullhead, crappie, yellow perch, and Sacramento perch. Trout are uncommon in this river.

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*Oh Clicky, get off! …/splutter… Really!*

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*What? Erm… /wipes lips and frowns… Dunno, Clicky, possibly this guy..? Shall we have a Song?*