That Special Relationship: Round 3

Yesterday Cade and I resumed our Ping Pong game

*Yeah, there was some whiffiness, certainly Click…*


My serve, or if you prefer, my move…


Think you are clever do you?

Me too. 😉

We have a common commonality.


Q: If we change the name(s) of everything, what changed and when?

A: ???

Just thinking about titles and labels and descriptions of the same or similar things around the globe. Especially over time. It just seems to me that rigidity itself is what can and does cause not only destruction and disarray at times…but it’s own fault is the “constant variable”…if you will.

What do I “mean” by that? A constant is constant.

EX 01: How many Buffalo/Bison roam the plains of North America at this time in the year 2017?
EX 02: Are the Buffalo/Bison that are alive today, identical to the Buffalo/Bison of the past?

To further try and explain my mode of thinking here…

EX 03: The whaling ship known as “The Essex” that was sunk by a “bull” Sperm Whale…

Q: How many other ships have been sunk/sunken by whales, irrespective of type of whale?

EX 04: Watching humans and their videos of their exploits in the ocean…how many “near misses” do we have to see, before someone is actually swallowed by a group of feeding whales?

(Primarily, the Humpback whales, who tend to hunt in pods as a group, and people seek these out for whale watching purposes, and are getting closer and closer to these feeding whales that are simply trying to survive, grabbing an available meal, when and where available.)

If we, as humans, know and can track these other lifeforms on our planet…erm…why? Meaning, yeah…I get it…

Q: Do you?

A: ???

Not speaking specifically to you Roob. But I’m sure that you wonder about your children. What will they do with this information? I know that I do. I mean, I wonder about my own children and what they might do someday down the road, with an incomplete data set of information that they have no fucking CLUE what in the fuck that this information was collected for, nor the why and the whys. All they will know, is what they know at the time. The book “1984” comes to mind with respect to the gathering and proliferation of information. To me, the primary theme of the book is not about information nor even information control nor even controls nor controlling. The book is about choice and choices and time over times.

Q: Should I worry about what my children are doing with their lives after I am long since out of their lives?

My being dead or alive is irrelevant (to me anyway). Their life is theirs. They will live in the times they live in, just as everyone does.

It’s your life, but…be nice.

Sorry, but as a parent…that’s the best that I’ve ever been able to come up with.

^No Mana – Back Alley Time Machine^

TBH, Cade, the thing I wonder about my two is whether they’ll ever have a bath of their own volition, but maybe that’s just because sitting in close proximity to one of them right now.

I agree with you, our children’s lives are their own, just as our parents lives were their own and our lives are ours to own. Life is about choice and choices and time over times. Probably why ‘1984’ has come to resemble a manual rather than a warning…

*Anything else, Click?*


You’ll have to excuse me, I’m off to draw a bath */gets up and holds breath…*

cade invasion on Roob territory := on
heH HeH Heh

heH HeH Heh
Cade invasion on Roob territory := off

^Virtual Riot – Time Stops (ft. Danyka Nadeau)^

I have been known to shoot myself in the foot. Which is weird, because I have been shot in the foot by others. Not that we are our own worst enemy or anything. Others can take care of that role for us. The best I can come up with respect to “we are our own worst enemies” always has to do with others and their opinions. Why in the fuck would I want to be an enemy to myself. I mean…yeah…I’m am blessed with an overabundance of the stupid. But that’s not fault. Unless it is.

Q: Anyone wanna help me out here?

A: That’s what I thought.

If you want teenagers to bathe? I suggest surrendering to the dark side. It’s mud and dirt and sweat encrusted and stinky…but less aggravating.

Meaning: Pack your shit, and move far away from them.

It’s the only way.

^Mefjus – Blitz^

I have no idea why you are pestering me today. Do you NOT realize that I am deep into something more important than writing some random bullshit for your blog? YEAH! That’s right young lady…I am deep into writing a post for your blog, and I don’t have time for your nonsensical limey ravings. Granted, they are limey ravings, which are subtle and subdued. But I see through the limey fog-screen. Or…at least I will when I get close enough to whatever to see it.

Speaking of limey fog…I have a question for ya.

Q: What was the general reception in the UK of the Sherlock Holmes movies by Guy Ritchie?

A: Any idea(s)?

I guess I’m thinking not only of the movies, but limeys tend to fucking HATE IT when Americans play limeys, and especially when they try and duplicate the accent. Granted, this is not the first time that Robert Downey Jr. has played a limey…but I thought he did well. He a Jude Law were fucking incredible as a team. I think both movies stand on their own, but I lean towards the second flick because that movie was fucking HUGE. I love the shit out of Mark Strong, but the addition of Stephen Fry made up for the absence of Mark Strong.

Funny ain’t it? An Okie/Texan can forgive Daniel Craig for using a southern accent.
“Funny ol’ world…iddnit?” – Captain Jack Sparrow
Movie = Pirates of the Carribean: Curse of the Black Pearl
(Special nod to Ali G and Nigel Tufnell for additional support on the term “Iddnit”)

^Dead Or Alive – You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)^

Just like a bloody Yank! Coming in at the end, taking the glory…


I think the Sherlock movies went down okay in the UK. They were up against a pretty terrific TV Sherlock with Benedict Cumberbatch but Robert Downey Jr made an admiral, edgy Sherlock. Me personally, I preferred the TV series as I found the editing in the films a bit too fast and furious. But perhaps if I’d seen the movie first, my view would be different. Thoughtful Man loved the film versions, but he just loves the Sherlock character. When we first met, he told me that one of his favourite films is ‘Young Sherlock Holmes’.

I’m okay with American actors playing ‘English’ roles in films and the accents are okay or very good. But then the bar was set awfully low, early doors with Dick Van Dyke…

*Shit! I forgot about Keanu Reeves… Golly, so many films I have not seen…*

Of course, English actors have generally played the ‘baddie’ role in American films…

… But my favourite Robert Downey Jr performance will always be him playing an Englishman…


Goody! Cade’s latest missive has arrived…

Enjoy the Song, Dear Reader… BBL… ❤


That Special Relationship: Round 2

CLICK: Last time…

*Er, what you doing? …/squints…*

*What do you mean you’re protesting? …/purses lips… Oh, you’re protesting ME…*

*Piss taking bastard… /rolls eyes…*


I figured I stay away from pics and music till…whatever or something. I had no idea if you’d even be up for this idea, and didn’t put any thought into it other than the basic premise of a general back and forth with no rules.

When I post music or pics, it’s for many reasons, up to and including no fucking reason at all. Just, something I found interesting or whatever at the time. Passing it along. Making a note. Sharing…I guess. /me shrugs.

I like being encouraged and try to encourage others. In my own way of course. Heh heh heh!

Speaking of which…

I lambasted that left-leaning right-winger guy over at The Slog on his new article today, but it didn’t post for some reason. His comment about 90+% of people ignoring the hygiene signs at hospitals just made me rofl after his rant calling everyone rodents and rats.

In hospitals?!?!?


It’s full of sick people!!!


Next thing you know…

there’ll be germs FUCKING EVERYWHERE!!!


We get a new President today…again…or something.

/me shrugs


Congratulations! You were lucky in only having to suffer US version of Tony Blair for 8 years; we had to put with the original for ten… And still he doesn’t shut up. Yours will probably be the same unfortunately.

Music and pics: Okay, I agree. For me they are more Clicky’s domain – it’s how he ‘speaks’ */shrugs… Well it is…* I dunno, give an imaginary creature some trousers and they think they’re the only ones allowed to wear them. I’ll have a word, ask him to butt out… Perhaps he can top and tail these ping pong communiqués… *Happy? …/nods head…* He’ll be alright with that… *Okay… /rolls eyes…* and there’s always the comment section.

If you want to hear a proper rant about hospitals and hygiene, I would point you in the direction of The Underdog. Have you read any of the Anthology I sent you yet? Not all the authors in it are Limeys. Great video, btw, nearly 200 views of your battle with the packaging. Quite suspenseful at one point when my sellotaping looked to have the better of your switchblade.

So apart from being a pilot, you’re also a musician. I know you mentioned it on (currently out of phase) Sync Miss Forum, but remind me, how many different instruments is it you can play?


How many instruments can I play? Or how many can I play well?

Can Play = several.
Can Play Well = zero.

^Laibach – Across the Universe (Official video), 1989^

Guitar, bass guitar, piano/keyboards and drums/percussion. But I consider myself a songwriter. It’s helps explain why I am such a poor musician, which helps explain the terrible music, which helps explain the shitty songs played shittily. 😉

I come from a musical family full of musicians, both amateur and full and part-time professional musicians. Yet I was not allowed to pursue music as a career. Not sure what I was supposed to pursue professionally…but neither were they…so…yeah…I wound up a JOAT-MON, or, Jack-Of-All-Trades…Master of None. Lotta “shitty and worthless jobs” that someone needed me to do, but not acceptable enough or good enough or well paying enough “to raise a family, be a productive and respectable member of society, and be a good son.” Oh…and there’s that being a good Christian in the eyes of God/Jesus that is acceptable enough to draw breath. That must explain the asthma and other illness(es).

A JOAT-MON is sometimes also known as a walking travesty, professional fuckup and completely worthless waste of space/flesh that should have never been born nor even conceived. Or at least…in my case.

To relate, a conversation I once had with my father with respect to a car accident I was just involved in…ended as such…

Cade: Is something wrong?
Cade’s Father: Yeah! I had my dick out, when it should have been in my pants.

MEANING: If I had not fucked your mother on that one particular occasion, you never would have been born, and I wouldn’t be here and now dealing with your sorry ass.

I was 23 years old and living in DC at the time, and had made the 1,300 mile drive down to Dallas for a visit. Got into a car accident, my fault … :/ …and he was trying to help me get my car more or less drivable for the 1,300 mile return journey in a basically undrivable car…which I somehow successfully made thanks to his help. I was and am thankful for that help. All of it. Yep, even the crusher. Not like I hadn’t heard something similar many times prior to that. But I learned an important lesson with respect to the difference between me and most. I see adversity as opportunity…NOT damnation or some kind of curse.

Sorry. I just don’t believe that God/the gods/The Universe is sitting around 24/7, dreaming up ways to make our lives a fucking nightmare of an existence. We can do that all on our own.

Sometimes… we can make even the best of dreams a nightmare with a word. “Nightmare” is a popular one. I can and have used that word myself many times, in situations that turned out just fine. Just…a few bumps here and there. Cliches usually come in handy at those points.

I guess I just hate the fact that we are sometimes SO FUCKING SURE…that tomorrow either ain’t coming, or if it does, that it ain’t worth suffering through. So…I try to live in the now. Eyes here, eyes there, eyes EVERYfuckingWHERE except the now…but focused primarily on the now as best as I can. It works for me…sometimes. 😉

I may have a shitty life, but I love it. I realize that in The Bible, Jesus said not to love you own life…so yet again…I fail. However, it allows me to at least attempt to respect my body a bit, which The Bible says is God’s Temple. The longer I can keep it alive, the more chance I have of being able to do something good with it. But “good” is subjective. I know how I feel. I get the feeling that God…whoever or whatever in the fuck that is, knows how I feel as well. He/She did create me afterall. Or at least…created the system that created me…so, yeah…created me. 😉

Holy FUCK!!! You’d think I like talking about myself or something.

I wouldn’t know.

Never done it before.

/me shrugs

^Love And Rockets – “All In My Mind”^

So yeah…all that said…you really want to know about “The Alpha to Omega Bet”…and you also want to know if I really made a bet with God.

A: Yes

Q: About what/what was the bet?

A: Heh heh heh

Q: Who won?

A: Heh heh heh

Q: What was the bet/the stakes?

A: Heh heh heh

Not so fast. We’ll get there. 😉

^Wall Of Voodoo – Mexican Radio^

P.S. – Direct questions will be answered directly as best I can. That said, I appreciate your tact. ❤



Jesus actually said that? Perhaps your dad was busy hating his own life that he felt able to say what he said to you. I had a similar but different conversation with my mum in my teenage years. She said, “Not that I don’t love you but you might want to consider not having children because having children is harder than you think. You have to sacrifice a lot.” Perhaps Jesus was addressing parents. I don’t know I wasn’t present.

Anyway, I took her words to heart because I didn’t want to have children for the longest time. I was very firm about it, too. And then one day, in my thirties, I got my period and started to cry over it and couldn’t stop. It occurred to me that I’d sacrificed a lot by heeding her words. That’s the thing about sacrifice, sometimes you don’t realise you’re doing it until you do. However, I’m glad I waited as long as I did because I feel as though Thoughtful Man and I hit the Jackpot knocking out the two that we have.

Hell, I know we hit the Jackpot, same as I know I hit the Jackpot having the parents I did and marrying the man that I have. If you are a JOAT-MON then I am Jackpot Girl…

*Clicky, I realise Cade disregarded my suggestion, but that doesn’t mean I have… /thinks… Although…*

Ian Dury apparently contracted polio as a kid from visiting a seafront swimming pool in Southend. The swimming pool no longer exists but I have visited it, as its foundations form part of a seafront casino…

Not that I frequent casinos very much. I have visited Las Vegas but that was more to see Tom Jones in concert than to gamble. In fact on the second day we were there I was approached by a security officer, who asked me, “Miss, are you okay?” Thoughtful Man was playing blackjack at a table and I’d been wandering aimlessly around rooms filled with rows of slot machines. I had a $20 note in my pocket, I just didn’t want to play. Possibly the look on my face was bad for business, hence the approach. More probable was that they thought I was up to no good. In any case it was a shock to be singled out for attention.

You made a bet with God?
Does God know?


If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life for me, you will find it.
– Matthew 10:39

OK…so I paraphrased. But there are several references to that same quote in the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. The Bible is a tough read anyway. Especially when the vast majority of it in “spoken aloud” format has been screamed at you from some “fire and brimstone” pulpit telling you what a worthless shitbag you are. Some great stuff in there tho irrespective of the perception of it and it’s contents.

It’s pathetic that “the wise, educated and learned” can quote from anything, from anyone, from anywhere…EXCEPT “The Bible.” All of a sudden, you are a religious zealot quoting from the wrong book(s) and need to be “shown the way” to “true” enlightenment.

I dunno. Seems to me that…

Enlightenment = Enlightenment.

Contextually…Adjectives = Trouble.

Auxiliary Verb
Perfect (Grammar) (Redirected from Perfect aspect)


*Okay, we’re play it by ear then, Clicky… /pats snout… Look, I said you could tail this round, so why don’t you just give us a Song?*


*Don’t push it!*


That Special Relationship…

The other day, The Okie Devil wrote some lovely complimentary stuff on my treatment of his missives, here at the LoL…

*Don’t be jealous, Clicky… Just because Cade didn’t mention you…*

Anyway, he also floated a notion…

Maybe it’s time for us to try and write one together. Maybe a back and forth kind of  “I write a paragraph…She writes a paragraph” and so on. I can see some other avenues within that framework that might work well as well. But maybe that’s not a good idea. I dunno. Just…thinkin out loud.
We’ll see I guess.

I thought it a splendid idea and so, Dear Reader, for your entertainment, below is our attempt, yesterday, at a sort of Anglo-American bout of Ping Pong…


*/cackles… So jealous… /shakes head…*


Raed Ris dna/ro Mabam,

Sometimes, this backward shit just don’t work eh? So you gotta improvise or some shit like that.

(Sorry about the foul fucking language)


Hey Roob!
Q: Ya up for this “concept?”
A: (your answer goes there) hehe

Take your time. It is afterall…your time.

I typically read in a “looping” kind of fashion. Up and down and around, at the same time as side-to-side, both backwards AND forwards. As a result, it caused me to develop a “less-physically/less-medically discernible” type of speech impediment that caused me to transpose letters. I could read just fine in my head. But when I actually spoke what I read, I tended to mix up the letters.

EX1: “The Dog”…would become…”Dee Thog.”
EX2: “The Wide World of Sports”…would become…”We Wibe Swirled Aborts”…(usually, I was trying to avoid spitting with both the “S” the “P” and again with the “S”, which the “W’s” seem to have had pooled a massive collection of within my mouth).

This was/is in addition to several other “more discernible” speech impediments that were said to be the result of both unfortunate genetics and unfortunate “more preventable” types of events. Accidents…I believe they are sometimes called in more polite circles and/or settings.

“Being a complete and total walk-disaster of a fuckup” in more “real-world” types of situations.

But I digress.

Injuries to the head, neck, face, tongue, and jaw…are… …traumatic.
Being encouraged to not speak at all…also has some lasting effects.
Such as, for example…not speaking at all.
The perfect imperfection.
But I further digress…all kinds of things that can “inspire us” to stop communicating.

As a matter of fact…I think it’s about time for recess.

Wanna play? 😉

(Strictly platonic off course.)

/sorry couldn’t resist…DOH!!!

I think I might be able to think of some others who may benefit from such an endeavor. Maybe you can as well.

But I leave that decision, from here, up to you. I certainly do not wish this to cause harm in any way. And there is no pressure. If this sounds like the worst shitty idea you’ve ever heard of…feel free to keep that to yourself. “No fucking way you fucking Okie idiot!”…works just fine.

Thanks For You Consideration.




A: I used to sound like I’d had a drink when pronouncing my maiden name. I woz okay if I woz torking natchrole-like… ‘Roof Shoewan’… But if I was trying to sound educated or posh-like, the ‘th’ at the end of my first name would rear end the ‘Sh’ at the start of my second, like a DUI on black ice. Hot blood flowed, but only into my cheeks.

My son, Kitten, has/had verbal dyspraxia. He had a limited vocabulary until age 5, mostly consisting of “Mm”, “Da”, “Looby”, “yeah”, “no”, “cat” and “gone”. We didn’t even have cat, it was the neighbour’s pristine white moggy, Lara. She would jump up onto the garden fence whilst I nattered over it with next door, toddler in arms, and he would point and say “Cat!”, and when she jumped down, Kitten would exclaim, “Cat gone!”

Five years of speech therapy once a week with a willowy blond called Kendall (‘Mintcake’) developed his speech through repetitious play. But learning to write and spell were a nightmare; whilst Thoughtful Man took charge of Kitten’s 2wing and frowing from school to therapy room and back again, I was in charge of his homework and he did not like writing, not one little bit. At that time there was a Saturday evening TV show on called ‘Merlin’ which Kitten adored. Ah ha! I thought. If he could see words as ‘spells’, maybe he would see letters and combos of as ingredients. It did absolutely nothing for him but it sure as hell changed my perception of words.

What did work for him was me teaching him the NATO phonetic alphabet…


For some reason, he got that and, what with all the hard work his teachers put in (who he naturally charmed), he’s no longer afraid or using words, spoken or written. In fact, sometimes he never shuts up 😉

Is this the kind of thing you’re after Okie Devil? Btw, I did change a misspelling in your starter twice. Naughty of me as I have porpoisely misspelt words in my reply. Sorry, habit… But, as I’m sending it back to you, you can change it back if you wanna.

What kind of ‘accidents’ to your head, neck, face, tongue, and jaw?

Roob – x


Um…I’ve tried to talk about some of my injuries and unfortunate experiences and whatnot over at whatchacallit forums. I mentioned what most would prolly consider “the worst of the lot”…but not to me. I don’t remember much of that one.

I’d like to talk about my experiences…but I’m still not ready for some/most of them. If people think that the “sensationalist and unbelievable” worst of the worst of the worst is impossible…then how in the HELL are they gonna believe what I somehow survived…only to encounter even worse over a string of many events over years? Because I’m telling you…it gets worse.

The only reason I’ve poked my head up is that I know there are others that need to hear what I have to say, so that they do not feel so alone in their..”How did I survive that?” and “Why did I survive that?” moments that can and do come.

Just keep in mind that the only reason that I am talking about them at ALL…is because I am alone. Prolly someday…even my own children may need to hear these stories to help them understand why “dad was so fucking weird about anything and everything.” The short of that being…I tried to neither encourage nor discourage them from “jumping off of cliffs”…just assured them that if they DID jump and things went wrong?…I’d be there to catch them on the flip side. Have always tried to let them be their own person, but also always be there to guide them and advise them. And yeah…sometime…just…give them a little nudge maybe. 😉

Lotta scars on me that you can see, many that you cannot see. I just wanted to spare my children the bad ones, and allow them the choice of experiencing the good ones.

Roller skating on ice…for example. Meh…not too bad.
Roller skating on ice with rocket-powered roller skates?

Now we’re talkin!

I’ve talked about some of my “bad stuff” tho.

Some car wrecks and stuff like that. Maybe some of that “abuse” type stuff of the physical and mental varieties that is usually best not spoken of. The kind of shit that makes a kid run off and join the circus or a carnival if one is conveniently located in proximity to where the kid can get to without someone finding him…again…and again…and again…no matter how far he makes it from…where he’s trying to get away from.

BTW, my spelling errors? Correct away. God know I won’t catch them all. You’re the one gonna be posting this shit. Your honor as an English speeking Limay is aatt stakes here young lady. 😉

I’ve already defeated one Limey this week in a spelling contest.
Do you really wanna be next? (lol)
Losing a spelling contest to an Okie from Texas?


Just seen that MEROVEE Frank has posted this to BennyJurger…

You can always tell about some of the wonderful things you’ve experienced and weave in the painful stuff. Or like how Quint dropped the USS Indianapolis in Jaws. Very powerful and moving. Rocket-powered roller skating on ice, on the other hand, sounds like a unusual and exhilarating thing to try. Right up and until the moment it, well, isn’t. I have neither roller skated not attached rockets to anything, including sharks. I dunno, the idea just never occurred.

Perhaps we’re opposites. For instance, I’ve suffered no physical abuse and/or accident trauma. Only two hospital stays so far (well, three if you count being born in one): I had my tonsils removed at age 18. It was in a private hospital called ‘The Churchill’, located close to the Imperial War Museum in London. There is a song I associate with that hospital stay and it is attached to a bad memory of bad breath…

The other hospital stay was for the Boys’ birth. It was toward the end of the furiously hot August in 2001. Eighteen hours of labour and I end up having to have a C Section because Loopy shifted just before my fanny reached the required 10cm in diameter. I actually watched them being, not so much born as yanked out of me. I could see it all in the shiny ceiling tiles of the theatre. Loops had got his nose caught on something and wouldn’t budge. The profusely sweating surgeon even put his leg up on the surgery table to get better leverage. Loopy sported a big bruise on the side of his nose for his week in the world. But then again Kitten was born with a wonky toe. Erm… I’m now wondering for the first time if those two things weren’t related.

I may have broken a finger on a bumpy RIB ride across the Solent a few years ago. It was painful for months afterward but I never got it seen to, so probably not. Which means I’ve managed to get through just over 49 years so far without a broken bone. And you’ve had loads. Perhaps you took my share, in which case… Thank you ❤

Oh, the big news story the weekend of the Boys’ arrival… Posh Spice performed at a concert at Hyde Park wearing a lip ring! The scandal! When it was revealed to be a fake one, the UK MSM got a collective attack of the vapours all over again. Our UK press can be very parochial sometimes. The Song, however, that will always remind me of that weekend is by U2…

Hmm… three Songs included this time whereas you’ve being rather restrained. Strange 😉



*/furrows brow… ‘The Invisibles‘ Lennon Head, Clicky?*


*/:D I think that calls for a Song, Clicky…*