A horse, I’m hoarse… */cough…*

Dear Reader, Apols! Butt I am laid a little low, with a bug, brought in off the street by a Healthy visitor…

*Clicky, that’s watt everyone says to me… /coughs into fist… ‘Scuse, me for that, Click… /wipes hand on trouser leg…*

*/lights fag… Don’t look at me like that… smoking helps… /small hack… helps to get the shit up and off…*

*******

First remembrance of a horse… I was five and our class went on a visit to the local Nick… and there were stables, and this horse… It was the biggest, whitest thing I’d ever seen… and a policeman picked me up from the straw-covered floor, and on put me on it’s back… Magnificent horsey stood placidly, with gentle snorts and tail-flicks whilst a wiggling, giggling slip of a girl stroked its velvety neck, and burying her face deep in it’s silky mane… All the other kids played with batons and badges, but I stayed in the stable… And I cried when it was time to leave, to go home…

*******

“Like Shadowfax?” Kit-Kat said with a cocky grin. We were standing in the Kit Chinwag room of the house (the place of food). He was damp and ruddy-faced from the rain-sodden walk home from school.

I stopped and looked up at Thing 2, who now towers over me “Who?”

He stripped off his school tie from around his neck and looked at me with a faint look of disgust. “Gandalf’s horse? Shadowfax… Oh do come on Mater!”

*If you like, Clicky… though I doubt Gandalf was employed as a Brixton Bobby in 1972…/small cough with side order of squint… What you trying to suggest?*

*Oh course I’m fucking decent? What sort of question is that?!*

*Ah… yeah… I don’t actually want to hang the Righteous fuckers… I just fink they’re a bit… /taps temple… mentally ill-like… ‘cos of their phobia toward smoke… /drags some more… Nuffin’ wrong with letting them accumulate rope, though… We’ve knot had much luck in stopping ’em with that particular pursuit…*

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Other best remembrance of a horse… In Barbados on holiday in the early 90s. Thoughtful Man and I decided to explore the Highlands… on horseback, as you doo, even though neither of us had ridden a horse before… I was on this big chestnut-coloured creature, with a shaggy, blond mane… sitting ram-rod with fear at the sheer power of the muscles quivering beneath my legs… No crash-helmets provided but worn, leather reins to grip… We set off, follow the leader… he seemed to know where he was going… Well it was his turf, so I just let him do his thing… And then, once in sight of the final destination, he opened up and galloped… And I squealed with delight at the rush, and lost my headband, whipped away by the cool but oh so warm air streaming over me…

*******

“We also went horse-riding in Antigua,” Thoughtful Man reminded me. “But that was shit though because of all the rubbish on the beach.”

“Yeah that wasn’t as good,” I replied, “And then in Arizona, but that was just too hot and cactussy to go any faster.”

Thoughtful Man agreed and turned back to his PC. He was putting Clicky through his paces tending to his Arse-about-Facebook ‘Kingdom’; his favourite game, all neat and full of surprises.

“And don’t forget we owned shares in a horse once,” he said. “That was fun.”

*My first ring-tone, Clicky… I loved that phone, it opened up, like wings, for the qwerty keyboard… /clears throat… I need a sweetie, Clicky… /hold up hand… No, I’ll get ’em… you stay there and… /gets up… Have a Song…*

*/jumps about… Ore that other one, Clicky… Both are good…*

 

Dunn and Dusted…

Sad news today, folks: Grandad has passed on to the great butchers shop in the sky…

*Knot 19, Clicky, he was 92…*

*/lights up and smokes… I ain’t panicking, gno… Well, it had to ‘appen, Clicky... Everybody goes eventually…*

*/nods sagely… That’s true… /sniffs… Ooh, smells like dinner’s nearly ready – fancy a Song, Clicky?*

 

Kitty Syncs A Fishy…

kitty-syncs-a-fishy

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WEDNESDAY – AFTER MIDNIGHT

“Mum!”

A shadow hovered about me. I slide the headphones off my ears and attempted to look up.

“What’s up Kitty?” I asked, still dragging my eyes away from my PC screen. I’d been talking to Hugo, reading and listening to music.

roob-tells-hugo-about-the-broken-fish

“So, the fish was just in the sink, already broken, when you went in to brush your teeth?” I asked a pensive looking Kitten. “Okay, then, that is weird. Have you picked up all the pieces and put them aside? Dad might be able to fix it.”

He looked relieved. “Yeah. I told you, it was weird. You like weird stuff.” Kit Kat gave me a fancy bow and a wave…

*A bit more Rimmer, Clicky… /thinks… Like he was doing me a favour… How the fuck do you describe that? Thanks anyway… /pats snout…*

“Goodnight, mother dearest.”

“Do I have to go to bed?” Loopy called over, without breaking from his battle with a hoard of pixelated whatevers.

“No, you can stay up with me. You’re on holiday this week, remember?” I told him.

“Cool.”

Kit Kat and I synchronised eye rolls – Loopy would sit in that chair forever, if we let him. I kissed the top of Kitten’s head ‘goodnight’, and he left for bed.

*******

FRIDAY 28th October 2016  – between about 1600h to 1611h

Conversation between Roo B Doo and son Kitty Doo about where fought/thought/fault/fort/forte lies…

“But technically, it wasn’t me. It was gravity. I just gave it a little nudge.”

*******

THURSDAY – AFTERNOON

Thoughtful Man was sitting at his computer and I at mine. All was peaceful in the Library as I started to read the latest post from my good friend, Cade. I’d only got to the bit about inserting the lie, when I remembered…

https://twitter.com/RooBeeDoo1/status/791648425624346624

*Yes, Clicky, that clown… Don’t do that! You’ll make me lose my concentration…*

“Shit! I forgot to tell you,” I told Thoughtful Man. I rushed upstairs to see Kit Kat. He was doing whatever teenage boys do in their bedrooms. I always knock… well you never know…

*Clicky, stop trying to distract me… Writing…*

“Where’s that fish you broke? Come show it to Dad. He might be able to fix it.”

Kitten was lounging in his Captain’s chair and got up begrudgingly, as teenage boys are want to do. He collected the fish pieces from the bathroom, handed them over and then followed me back downstairs, with a gracelessness that only 15 year old boys can truly muster.

“This fish…” I turned the body of the fish over in my hands and stopped. “Oh, it says made in Mexico. Did we buy this in Grenada or Phoenix? I thought it was Grenada.” I passed the broken pieces across to Thoughtful Man.

“Arizona,” he replied, attempting to fit them together. Part of the head had smashed off and a fin. He inserted the few straggler shards and held it up for inspection. “Traveled a long way, this fish to come live with us. Yeah, I’ll glue that back together. How did it happen?”

I felt Kit Kat stiffen from across the room, where he was taking a suspiciously long pause in the doorway…

*He wasn’t smoking! Clicky, please, go do something else…*

“Oh it’s really weird,” I explained to Thoughtful Man. “The other night when Kit Kat went to brush he teeth, he found it, broken in the sink. An earthquake is a more likely than it spontaneously leap of faith, wouldn’t you say, Kitty?”

I turned to my son,  inviting him to give his opinion on the flying/jumping/shaking fish phenomenon he’d tried to palm me off with the other night.

Kitten looked at me before answering. “It was really weird,” the Boy That Breaks Things offered his father with a shrug and knowing smile.

*******

THURSDAY – AFTER MIDNIGHT

Kit Kat slouched into the Library and sat in Thoughtful Man’s chair.

“Mum, do you want anything from the kitchen?” he asked me. He’s always been thoughtful like that, especially if he wants something in return. Usually food.

“No thanks. Listen, come over here.” I beckoned him over to show him the image I’d created. “I’m writing a LoL post for you, ‘cos I wrote Loobie one, the other day,” I said brightly.

He sat on the arm of my big chair and gave a nod. “S’okay. You writing a post for me? Am I in it?”

“Will you read it?” I asked him.

“I don’t like reading,” he countered. He can be brutally honest went he wants to be.

“Then that’s your punishment for breaking my fish.” I pushed him off my armrest and he returned to his father’s seat. “I’ll tell you what, though, you provide me with three things, any three random things, and I’ll include them in it.”

Accidentally broke your fish, which is actually my fish because you gave it to me for my toothbrush.” Kit Kat sighed, resigned to playing along to make me happy. He thought for a bit. “It’s about a cheaply made fish that I accidentally broke, so… The first thing is a really expensive fish…”

*******

Friday 28th October – Middayish, an hour after getting up

Opens unsolicited email from MJM, friend from the Blue and Y’Ello Universes.

It reminds me of Antismokers eternally blowing hot air about smoking and vaping destroying the known universe…

mjm-sends-roobee-a-fish

*******

“An expensive fish? Of course, what else?” I asked. He furrowed his brow before answering slowly.

Benjamin Franklin…”

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Friday 28th October – Middayish

Ninth email, from Frank, friend from the Red Universe, in an electronic missive chain discussing… well, that’s between him and me but it involves some of characters of the MEROVEE crew… They’re a fun crowd…

Come On Franklin. It’s going to be a fun trip.

red-frank-send-roobee-franklin-horror

*******

Kit Kat’s ‘I-really-couldn’t-care-less’ concentration was suddenly broken by the entrance of a mad dooshund, wrestling with a limpish sock from side to side. It had been quietly lying in the dirty laundry pile.

“Poppy! Let that go, let that go,” Loopy cried, springing up from his chair and attempted to gently prise the white material from the jaws of certain shaken death. “Come on, Poppy, give it to me.”

“And a sock!” Kit Kat exclaimed. “Expensive fish, Benjamin Franklin and a sock,” he finished with a flurry that matched jerky movements of the reluctantly dancing sock…

*Oh for gawd’s sake… /looks skywards…*

“Yes. This sock,” Loopy stated, giving me the sopping wet item before returning to his chair with our darling Popstar for a licky cuddle.

“Okay,” I said, putting the sock down and grabbing my headphones. “Anything else?”

Kitten looked at me thoughtfully. “Yeah, can you remind dad that my game comes out tomorrow?”

“Oh, I’m sure he already knows,” I said. “You’ve been heralding its arrival every bloody day since your birthday.”

*Ha! He saves his money and look at the fuck off size book it comes with, Clicky… /sighs at the irony… He’s never gonna read all that… /looks around… What’s left to do?*

*A Song? Nah, I don’t think it’s finished yet… Hey! Where are you going? Don’t piss off now… /huffs… Fuck it… /lights up, sits back, smokes…*

Room x37 – Spotting Syncs 101: A Pointless Exercise Part 1.7

*sigh* Clicky, there seems to be sum confusion over the point of this ‘Pointless Exercise’ series of LoL posts… Could you get me something digestible on Quantum Theory… something eve-n I’d understand *rolls eyes*

 

Is that it? *squints*

 

Why you no rissen

Well, excuse me *indignant huff* … Carry on, Clicky…

There is a most profound and beautiful question associated with the observed coupling constant, e, the amplitude for a real electron to emit or absorb a real photon. It is a simple number that has been experimentally determined to be close to -0.08542455. (My physicist friends won’t recognize this number, because they like to remember it as the inverse of its square: about 137.03597 with about an uncertainty of about 2 in the last decimal place. 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 π 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!

A coupling constant? *boggles* Meditation, Clicky?

 

And that's an order

 

Rude! Ah… Apols! You need the second-hand smoke, Clicky… cos you’ve only got flippers *smirks*

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Part 1.8 follows shortly… still going up the line. Next up Craig, the builder, from Big Brother.

CYL

*waves*