Roo, Roob, Roobee… Rats!

Enormous chair

*Good afternoon, Clicky… /pats snout… You’ve got the enormous chair out… /lights up… Good call!*

Clicky bring chocolate and Red Frank Gets Ruby

*Ooh chocolate! Thank you… /breaks off piece…*

From my last post, Dear Reader, you will have gleaned that, just like Indiana Jones, I named myself after a dog. I have very fond memories of watching that dog as a child, and again with the boys as babes. We still have stickers up…

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*How Thoughtful Man allowed the scary clown to remain, Clicky, I’ll never know… /He’s scared of clowns…*

Over the years I have been online…

*/:O … Has it only been 5 years? Wow, feels longer… /smokes fag…*

… as Roobeedoo2, others have addressed me by shortening my chosen name to Roobee, Roob, RBD2…

*Roobot… /smirks… I met one this week…*

Roob and Cade afternoon chat

*Yeah, I know… Pepper…*

Roob and Cade afternoon chat 2

*Ha! I mentioned Stephen King’s ‘It’ in comments… /sticks out tongue…

*The film opens tonight and apparently the people going will be dressing up as clowns… /grimaces… Thoughtful Man’s working tonight – he’s gonna shit himself! … /drags… Enough of that, Clicky, I want to get onto the rats…*

So, one of the shamble lenses that I use, synchromystically speaking, is my name. I turn my handle… I suppose in this way, I’m a handler

*/:D… Nice catch! …stubs butt…*

Well today, Dear Reader, I read a story of horror in the news…

French girl mutilated by rats

And how is the name of the rat town pronounced?

*/lights up… That’s right Click… /inhales smoke… Roobee everywear… /exhales…*

Now, if you have read, ‘Anatomy of a Hat Trick‘ yet, and watched ‘The Fedora Chronicles’ contained within it, you may have picked up some common or garden syncs. I told Cade about them at the time…

Roob tells Cade the syncs she spots in The Fedora Chronicles

Herbert Johnson was the maker of Indie’s hat…

therats

*And I guess ‘FoG’ could be Friends of Georgie? … /rolls eyes…*

*/puffs… Don’t worry, Clicky, if I remember rightly, the rats didn’t so much float as get a bit singed…*

*A Song already? …/deep drag…*

Roubaix boom town

*Oh I see… /finishes fag… Well I suppose this Library outing is quite long enough…*

Dear Reader, I could go on, like, oh I dunno… how I hate Nazis, but I’ll end this post hear… Have a Song 😉

When You Reach Your Selbie Date…

Sell-by date is from 1972.

Duncan Selbie don’t like being called a ‘Nanny’, Dear Reader, oh dear me gno… He’s irked by the tone of the question…

Top Nanny doesn't like being called Nanny

*/lights up fag… When he says ‘right‘, Clicky, how far right do you reckon he’s finking?*

*That far? …/exhales plume of smoke…*

I don’t know much about him so I fought/fault/fort I’d look him up…

In the corner of Duncan Selbie’s fifth floor office in Waterloo, a stone’s throw from The Old Vic, there is a small plaque bearing a quote from the founder of analytical psychology, Carl Jung: “Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”

CLICKY: Ted Talk?

‘Selbie, who has been chief executive at Public Health England since this autonomous arm of the NHS was forged from 129 health agencies – including the National Treatment Agency for Substance Misuse and the Health Protection Agency – three years ago, looks embarrassed when asked about the quote.

‘The 53-year-old Scot mumbles that it was given to him by a communications executive. He is already blushing about a certificate from the Institute of Healthcare Management that hangs proudly on his wall, and he is clearly uncomfortable explaining why he received it.

‘“I’m very British, you see, so how can I say it’s for ‘Outstanding Contribution for Leadership’?” he smiles, awkwardly. “I’m not North American.”

‘Eventually, he matter-of-factly states what Jung’s quote means to him: “Public health is all about futures that don’t yet exist.”’

*Quite, Clicky! …/drags… Btw, that clip appears to go in and out of sync…*

He certainly talks a good shift in that profile…

As well as economics, Selbie believes that companionship is key to a healthier life. He’s aware that might sound a little new age, but points out that this can be as simple as an elderly person being comfortable in the knowledge they have someone to take them home after a hospital operation.

…but the reality is…

‘He has backed interventionist measures, such as the sugar tax. And he urged hospitals to ban smoking anywhere.’

How does it end? The profile, that is…

In 1961, Bill Wilson wrote to Jung saying that his teachings were a pivotal inspiration for him in co-founding Alcoholics Anonymous. Selbie lacks the audacity of a North American like Wilson to link himself so closely with Jung.

But it’s clear the softly spoken Scot’s plaque means more to him than he lets on. Be it alcohol, tobacco or safe sex, Selbie believes that the country needs to take a good look at itself and its wider problems before it can fully resolve its health issues.

Oh Duncan, take your own advice and… Have a Song…

… And for you, Rear Dealer…

1972 (MCMLXXII) was a leap year starting on Saturday (dominical letter BA) of the Gregorian calendar, the 1972nd year of the Common Era (CE) and Anno Domini (AD) designations, the 972nd year of the 2nd millennium, the 72nd year of the 20th century, and the 3rd year of the 1970s decade.

Within the context of Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) it was the longest year ever, as two leap seconds were added during this 366-day year, an event which has not since been repeated. (If its start and end are defined using mean solar time [the legal time scale], its duration was 31622401.141 seconds of Terrestrial Time (or Ephemeris Time), which is slightly shorter than 1908).[1]

Have a bunch…

Fumer Satire… A Cultish Thing

Er, I sat hear… smoking *…/takes drag* …Thinking about how to start this post, Dear Reader…

humour-table

*’Amendment’? Yeah… ‘Morals and manners’? Most Definitely… ‘Accentuation’? …/wipes tear from eye… Doubly definitely, Clicky… ‘The self-satisfied’? I dunno about that, but I laughed like a drain…*

… See, my friend Hugo has written a novel

cultish-hugo-stone-front-cover

… And it’s all about SEX

cultish-hugo-stone-back-cover

 

… I started reading it back in June when Hugo confessed to me that a short story he’d written for The Underdog Anthology, had grown into something somewhat bigger…

hugo-dm-1

*/lights another smoke…*

…I jumped at the chance to read it – I was struggling to write my own story contributions (writing horror fiction doesn’t come naturally to me)…

hugo-dm-2

*/taps off ash…* 

… What I read, blew me away. I mean, I knew he could write, but what he’d written was incredibly sharp

hugo-dm-3

*/drags some more…*

… Mind you, it needed some copy editing, so I offered to do that for him…

hugo-dm-4

… For the next month, Hugo sent me his output daily, sometimes twice, three times daily…

u-lucky-girl

*/stubs out butt… Yes, yes I am Clicky…*

… and I corrected typos, made some suggestions (not always taken but always considered) and generally helped my friend Hugo birth his first novel

hugo-dm-5

*/lights up… Too fucking right, Clicky…*

… Hugo then sent his completed manuscript of ‘Cultish’ to my friend Leggy, to see if he would consider publishing it…

leg-iron-books

*/take puff and rests cigarette in ashtray… You know what Clicky, I’m so happy to have been able to help my two online chums in their budding ventures, I fancy having a little dance…*

*Nice! …/retrieves fag and resumes smoking…*

So, Dear Reader, I strongly suggest you get your hands on a copy of ‘Cultish’ by Hugo Stone… It’s ridiculously funny… It really, really is… And have a Song…

Knot Barred… With Update

cover2b

Yes, Dear Reader, The Underdog Anthology is well on nigh

*I am not a princess, Clicky! …/looks aghast… *

*/sniff… Sandwich Queen, maybe… Now stop interrupting me…*

Anyway, as I was saying, Dear Reader, The Underdog Anthology will be published very soon…

*No, Clicky, my pen name’s Roo B. Doo… sounds like RooBeeDoo…*

wise-words

*Yeah well I’m rather more fond of a shamble than Tiff… /shoos away assistant… Now, stop butting in…*

Leggy, the Underdog, is keen not to make the cover too attractive to children. Personally, I think the little buggers could do with reading the superbly written horror, sex and violence that unfolds inside…

cover3a

*/Squints… It’s his pub, Clicky… Leggy’s the gaffer and I fully respect that… Now fuck off for a minute, I want to put the poem in…*

As an ‘Afterword’ in his other short story collections, a literary giant is giving a kicking – Lewis Carroll in ‘Dark Thoughts and Demons‘, and Edgar Allan Poe in ‘Fears of the Old and New‘.  For The Underdog Anthology, Leggy enticed me into a bit of vandalism…

 

loading_wait_doctor_who

*Oh yeah… Anyone that knows me, noses there was only one giant, I’d take on, Clicky…*

So, Dear Reader, reproduced below is my afterword contribution to The Underdog Anthology… Sonnet 6+6+6…

ode-by-a-smoking-brexiteer

Dear Reader… Have a Song ❤

*******

Update

Dear Reader, we now have a back cover

Loopy’s Pig-Eon Sandwich

“Are you going to the kitchen?”

I was between the Library and the room containing the fridge and cooker when Loopy called out.

“Yes, but first I’m turning on some lights and then I’m going upstairs to pee. Why?” I said, stopping in the doorway and clicking on the overhead light.

Loops in naked, teenage hairiness (except for pants – wear knot animals 😉 ), glided round into view. He was sitting in his Captain’s gaming chair, whilst Poppy lay sleeping along the length of his long, lanky legs. He languidly caressed her back, to which she responded with low, contented snores.

“Can I have a sandwich?” he asked with the innocence of 21st century Oliver Twist.

Thoughtful Man was out; however, earlier we’d decided secretly between the two of us – after a short but satisfying cuddle, before he got into the bath I’d thoughtfully drawn him – that he’d bring KFC home, when he finished work. I’d licked my lips at his whispered suggestion, and told him “Yes please.”

“Dad will probably bring something home with him later,” I told Loopy, knowing exactly how much food my children can put away over the course of a day. “What kind of sandwich?”

Loops eyed me coolly, his hand lingering over Poppy’s soft, velvety ears. “Pigeon.”

“I’m fresh out of pigeon,” I replied with a sagacious squint. “You can have ham.”

*******

*Clicky! Where’s that video clip Loops showed me… /lifts up cushions… You know, the funniest pigeon video I said he could use as the filling…*

silk-fluorescence

*/peers behind curtains… Oh, I don’t know, it’s gotta be hear sumwear…*

*******

Dear Reader, it’s been a lovely Sunday. No cooking, minimal ironing (half-term next week. Yay!). Clicky and I have had such fun today, frolicking around the universes. Perhaps we’ve seen you there 😉

Regardless, we hope you’ve also had a good day. Have a Song…

*Thank you, Clicky… /pats snout… Now pass me a rollie…*

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…*