CLICKY: JoJo was a man who thought he was a woman *taps fin*
*Clicky, it’s ‘loner’…*
CLICKY: Jojo’s a girl…
*Oh I remember watching that with the boys when they were little. You’re right, Clicky…*
‘The series is set in Circus Town, a self-sufficient city whose cultural center is the “Big Top” tent. The story focuses on JoJo Tickle, a young female clown, and Goliath, JoJo’s pet lion. She and Goliath study at the Little Big Top Circus School, where all young soon-to-be circus performers learn under their teacher Mrs. Kersplatski. Along with her friends, JoJo explores and learns while dealing with challenging situations.
‘JoJo’s Circus relies on repetition in its structure. Each segment always begins with JoJo searching for her pet lion Goliath who is always hiding. JoJo then is presented with the situation that will occupy the theme of the show. A song, usually about the resolution of the situation, is then sung by JoJo.’
*A bit of sync that, Clicky, as I tweeted the ‘Dark Side of the Rainbow’ to Hugo & Kitty this morning…*
CLICKY: Huge Cat that hides?
*It was in response to Hugo’s stirring seas post last night. And featured David…*
*My, the Beeb got that out early; he’s not 90 until Sunday, according to his we-key page, Click. Mind you, it’s been that kind of a year so far for celebs*rolls eyes* … Ooh that’s interesting…*
‘In May 2015, US President Barack Obama interviewed Attenborough at the White House in Washington D.C. Together, they discussed the future of the planet, their passion for nature and what measures can be taken to protect the environment.‘
*’discussed the future of the planet’, Clicky. Legs’ story of, or possible from… he is a Doctor… /drifts … Um, ‘For Whom the Bells Jingle‘. Just last night, Leggy wondered if Hugo would like to read it.*
CLICKY: Don’t forget the face
*Ha ha… there just had to be a face sync. Come on, Clicky, let’s finish with a Song* 😉
*So, Clicky, ‘Pop’ was the decision. Interesting…*
CLICKY: Victoria would…
Receiving word that a Prince of Pop had pops his clogs so shortly after I’d popped the question, was a surprise. Thoughtful Man was the bearing of the news… again.
“You’ll never guess who’s died now?”
I hadn’t heard him come downstairs as I was still engrossed over at Hugo’s second site. I removed my headphones. “What another? Who?”
“Prince.” Thoughtful Man looked shell-shocked. He’d once queued 10 hours to get tickets for one of his concerts. In his teens, Thoughtful Man had considered Prince and his music the bee’s knees.
He slumped down onto his chair and tapped his keyboard. “Prince is dead.”
*Clicky, you’re racing ahead – Thoughtful Man didn’t show me that until following day… I told Hugo about it.*
*******
Extract from ‘A Family History for Ruth and Julia (Gawd ‘Elp Us!)’, a.k.a. ‘The Ma Papers’ by Judith Eileen Newton (formerly Shewan, née Packer)
When uncle Jack was alive he phoned me one evening to see if I could get Jeremy into John Lewis. I think he was working at the time in some kind of government office. I did get him an application form, but nothing came of it.
At that time I did not know that he was gay. Looking back on it, considering that the men’s second floor loo at John Lewis was advertised as a meeting point for gays in Gay Weekly (and that 75% of males working there were gay), I wonder if he had an ulterior motive.
After several sackings of staff for being in the loo instead of being on the shop floor, memos were fired out. Staff were banned from using them and a security man was posted on duty there at all times.
I don’t know how open I should be with you all, but what the hell you are all adults.
I went into said loo after hours, of course, courtesy of the Chief of Security. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about and it was an eye opener indeed. The toilet stalls had all been lined with stainless steel to stop chaps from making holes in the walls, but someone had brought in a drill. They all had holes in them. Apparently meetings were quite anonymous and frequent, but I can assure you that Aids had not reared its ugly head yet. When it did there were a lot of frightened chaps working there.
Before I left and moved to Southend in 94, I went to several funerals and numerous visits to hospitals, including the Lighthouse. I did a bit of buddying. Mrs Moon worked there and I became interested.
Unfortunately, because aids was new and terrifying and people were uneducated about it, any mention that you even had contact with an aids sufferer and people would shun you. They thought it was catching. Even at Branch Council meetings people wanted a different set of cups and cutlery for gays than for straights, so we had to get training packages together and send everybody on them to allay the fears.
One particularly funny incident did happen though. One day a cubicle had been locked for some time and a security guard, on his rounds, looked under the door. He saw a pair of feet and a large John Lewis carrier bag, the cardboard type used for men’s suits or expensive frocks.
When, on a second tour of duty of those toilets, the same feet and the same carrier bag were still in the same cubicle, the security guard decided to investigate further. Inside he found two men, one of whom was standing in the bag.
After that nearly all the men’s loos were turned into standy up ones except for one with the permanent security detail.
God, I have digressed haven’t I?
*******
Later on Friday, Blue Frankposted a performance of Prince and Red Frank put up his ‘Purple Reign‘ post…
And I took a naked selfie…
CLICKY: Click the pix for another
*Enough, with the selfies, Clicky. I’ve have ironing to attend to and a curry to cook. Do us a flavour and please give our Dear Reader a Song*
*Yes, Click. On MEROVEE we do it all the time. The first time, I think, was when Frank made a connection between Bond titles and news headlines… and then we all piled in* 😉
Angels feature in the latest post in the Red Universe…
Today, Angel A… Angle Cur… agreed to a Turkey… Turn Key… prosecution of a joker call Boehmermann.
CLICKY: Customs? Like free speech?
*Collected and placed with the rest behind a muslin curtain? Possibly…*
*Filmed in Prague… /rueful smile… Never tear who apart, Click? /raises eyebrows*
Extract from ‘A Family History for Ruth and Julia (Gawd ‘Elp Us!)’, a.k.a. ‘The Ma Papers’ by Judith Eileen Newton (formerly Shewan, née Packer)
I think that Dickie may have been too young to remember Gillian, but she was a smashing girl. She was so full of life and mischief and had her fingers in a lot of pies. She was so funny and really used to make me laugh.
Gill was very sporty, playing Table Tennis and Badminton and she loved to dance. She used to go to Victor Sylvester’s in Lewisham on Saturday night. I was officially too young to go anywhere with her (because I was only fourteen) but with a bit of splosh on my face and a mature air, I managed to get away with it.
The first weekend she took me to Victor Sylvester’s with her friend named Rita Winkle. She insisted it was pronounced Winekel but we called her Winkle anyway. Rita was older and very sophisticated and made up like a model. I really felt like a poor relation, after all they were both at work and I was still at school and a bohemian to boot. All my high ideals about bohemianism were sorely being put to the test.
What was I doing borrowing clothes and makeup, actually going to a dance and pretending that I was eighteen? The biggest problem was that I could not even dance. Oh yes I could shuffle, but this was pre-Beatles days and you either jived or ballroomed. I could do neither.
I remember that first night clearly. It was probably quite shabby but to me it was magical – little tables with lamps and a band, boys in suits… I did not know a boy with a suit.
I will always remember the smell of the ladies’ room, hairspray and perfume, whilst excited girls put on makeup and checked stocking seams, wondering who would ask them to dance with them tonight. It was a situation I had never encountered before and I was excited.
I had lied about my age and said I was eighteen. I was terrified. Gill was popular and seemed to know everyone, Rita was the belle of the ball and I felt like Cinderella.
When two blokes came and sat with us and bought us drinks, I really felt like the odd one out. Gill and Rita seemed so sophisticated and the blokes seemed so old. The evening progressed and I shuffled around with a couple of blokes.
When it was time to go home, the older of the two blokes said he would give us a lift home. Now, to have a car in those days was rare, so Rita’s eyes lit up. I assumed that the boys were taking home Rita and Gill and that I was an also ran. But when we got to Bellingham Lane, the guy stopped the car and told Rita she could walk from there because she lived out of his way. This probably sounds harsh by today’s standards but in those days things were much safer and we were used to walking. If we had not got a lift we would have walked from Lewisham to Bellingham – it’s a long way but we could not afford taxis.
Now I was really scared. Although I knew lots of boys from the youth club, I had never had a boyfriend with a car. They took us home and had coffee and arranged to meet us the next day in Catford to take us to the pictures.
One weekend with Gill and I had pulled. Bohemianism was losing its charm.
*… spare him his life for his pork sausages… doo be doo be doo be doo… Okay, Click, good choice of Song to end on*
*For Roob Noobs, PPE is Personal Protective Equipment. It’s also Purple People Eater, my first bona fide sync. This week, PPE also stands for Panama Papers Exposé… sum thing we’ve been discussing in comments on MEROVEE…
Extract from ‘A Family History for Ruth and Julia (Gawd ‘Elp Us!**)’, a.k.a. ‘The Ma Papers’ by Judith Eileen Newton (formerly Shewan, née Packer)
One day I was thinking about all the tales that I had heard about the family and I thought It would be a good idea if I tried to write some of it down for you so that you could get some kind of an idea where you come from, and what kind of madness infects you.
I don’t pretend that this is a family tree – I have done no research whatsoever but purely remembrances and quips.
Where do I start?
I will start with the Algers and will probably still be writing about them by next year.
Your Great Grandmother was Mary Margaret Arnell and she lived at Dockhead.
She had several brothers and sisters and I really did not know any of them except Old Aunt Anne. When I have given you an overview of the Alger set up, I will devote some space to her because her story involves SEX and I know that’s what you are really interested in.
Your Great Grandfather was Alfred Alger who also had lots of brothers and sisters and I didn’t know any of them with any certainty. But I do remember going to see some of his relations somewhere round the back of Surrey Docks; I can’t remember who they were.
Grandfather Alger (or Poppy as we kids all called him) was very tall and very handsome, and having seen his wedding pictures I can tell you he was, so I suppose he was quite a catch. His mother had a kind of a gin shop up the back of Paradise Street and his father was dock worker which is how he got to be working in the docks because in those days you had to have a ticket to work in the docks, and in order to get one you had to have a family member to speak for you.
The union was very strong so people said that if you were a docker you had a job for life, so I suppose it was not so different to nowadays – we all think we have a job for life until new technology comes along and scuppers us. It’s who you know not what you know. Look at me for instance, sitting here in Bung Hockley writing on a Word processor, retired and all that, but I digress.
I suspect that there will be a lot of that going on.
**’Gawd ‘Elp Us!’ is Uncle Dickie’s go to catchphrase. He employs it whether imparted news is good or bad. His other catchphrase ‘Go on my son!’ was developed on Saturday afternoons when he would pop round to watch the racing with Dad and Nan. It involved a lot of energetic pouffe bouncing and hitting his thigh with a rolled up newspaper. Win or lose, every race ended with an exclamation of ‘Gawd ‘Elp Us!’
*******
*Selfie time, Clicky! …/poses*
CLICKY: Sigmund, you’re gonna laugh son
Echo was a nymph who was a great singer and dancer and scorned the love of any man. This angered Pan, a lecherous god, and he instructed his followers to kill her. Echo was torn to pieces and spread all over earth. The goddess of the earth, Gaia, received the pieces of Echo, whose voice remains repeating the last words of others. In some versions, Echo and Pan had two children: Iambe and Iynx.
*Oh, and one of the pair of us…*
CLICKY: Another head rolls…
*…and shots fired…*
CLICKY: Just as you said.
*Irony, Click… Hey, that reminds me, Legs Posted ‘Passive Eating‘… It’s a thing now …/titters… and so is Passive Porking… Enough!*
Dear Reader – Thoughtful Man is recuperating at home. He’d asked me knot to relay what he told Juju and eye at the hospital on Saturday evening…
*That’s right, Clicky, but that was before today…*
*******
“Someone’s died.”
Thinking and elbows deep in warm, sudsy water, I hadn’t heard Thoughtful Man come downstairs. Startled, I turn to see his gaunt frame hovering in the kitchen doorway.
“Darling, can’t you sleep? Are you okay?”
He held his hand up to the leaky dressing on his throat to stop his Darth Vader breathing. “Someone has died. An old fella.”
I dried my hands and gently gripped his shoulders, guiding him back through to the Library.”What are you talking about? Come and sit down. Who’s died?”
“I don’t who exactly,” Thoughtful Man looked at me solemnly as he eased himself into his chair. “Someone famous, an old man. I woke up feeling someone’s died.”
“Well, we better have a look, see.” I gave him a reassuring smile and sat behind my computer, moving a snoozing Poppy, curled up in my spot. “I’ll google news. Any other clues as to who it might be?”
“No, but I feel it very strongly. A famous old man has died.”
Several taps and a click later, I was startled for the second time. “No shit!” I looked at Thoughtful Man, open mouthed.”Ronnie Corbett has died.”
CLICKY: Status Who?
“I told you.” Thoughtful Man nodded as he sat back in his chair. “I felt it.”
*******
*Joker, famous for his ‘shaggy dog’ stories? Very droll, Clicky… /rolls eyes… *
CLICKY: Monologuing?
*Well, I am fond of a monologue, Click …/wink…But that UN story we read this morning… the one I was thinking about when Thoughtful Man woke up… quite disturbing…*
UN officials say they are investigating “extremely troubling” claims of sexual abuse by peacekeepers in the Central African Republic (CAR).
Last year, there were 69 allegations of child rape and other sexual offences by peacekeepers from 10 missions.
One advocacy group says it has passed on new reports to the UN that a soldier made four girls have sex with a dog.
The UN said it was looking into the “exact number and nature” of the claims.
*It says, ‘…the bestiality claims, dating back to 2014, involved a commander with French forces.’… Clicky, one in French is Un… and as for CAR…*
CLICKY: Other Chair man
*Yes, Clicky… just a very slight difference in height 😀 *
status (n.)1670s, “height” of a situation or condition, later “legal standing of a person” (1791), from Latin status “condition, position, state, manner, attitude” from past participle stem of stare “to stand,” from PIE *ste-tu-, from root *stā- “to stand” (see stet). Sense of “standing in one’s society or profession” is from 1820. Status symbol first recorded 1955; status-seeker from 1956. Status-anxiety is from 1959.
Dear Reader – First the bad snooze… Thoughtful Man remains a resident of ICU and he’s mostly sedated…
CLICKY: And dream roaming?
*Probably, Clicky… /wan smile… Although when it comes to the art of sleeping, Popstar really is in a class of her own… /rolls eyes*
The good snooze is that the swelling is going down, so he is off the ventilator and starting to surface. Though the bad snooze is he suffered some delirium… flailing about, trying to pull out tubes…
CLICKY: Use gloves?
*Don mitts? Yes but it took three of them to do it. Well, as you know, Click, he’s a big man*
Still the good snooze was that yesterday he was much calmer and medics were able to remove the protection from his hands. Now we’re waiting for the results of today’s scan…
*Not sure about the wolves, there, Clicky – the nursing staff have been superb… But the waiting… /sigh…*
Today I watched a film that Thoughtful Man had gotten for me before he was taken ill.
‘In Akron, Ohio, 24-year-old Joy and her five-year-old son Jack live in a squalid shed they call Room. They share a bed, toilet, bathtub, television, and rudimentary kitchen; the only window is a skylight. They are captives of a man they call Old Nick, Jack’s biological father, who abducted Joy seven years prior, and routinely rapes her while Jack sleeps in the closet. She tries to stay optimistic for her son, but is suffering malnutrition and is sometimes overcome with depression. She allows Jack to believe that only Room and its contents are “real,” and that the rest of the world exists only on television.’
*******
To be continued in a post yet to be named. Sew I will finish this one now with a Poe-M…
Dear Reader – It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a Thoughtful Man in possession of a life-threatening abscess, must go under the knife.
*True. In fact he’s had two operations, Clicky. The first emergency one to drain the poison and remove teeth. Then he had to have another one on Saturday morning…*
*Yeah, there was some concern he wasn’t getting enough oxygen ventilating through his nose, so they decided a tracheotomy and keeping him sedated would be the best way to help him…*
Loopy looked expectantly at me from his captain’s chair. “Is Dad okay?”
“It’s tracheotomy and it’s when they cut a hole in your throat and stick a tube down it.” Kit Kat replied in the teenage tone of the perpetually bored. “Don’t you know anything?”
“Er…” I looked from one to the other, “Were you both listening to my conversation?”
“Yes.” Strange. They don’t normally agree on anything.
I licked my lips. “Oh okay, um, Dad’s fine but he needs another operation…” I waved towards Kitten, “…the doctors want to put a tube in his neck to help with his breathing.”
I pointed to the hollow of my throat and felt myself swallow.
“Okay, two things,” Loopy got up and ambled toward me. “Three things. Firstly, hug?” He wrapped his arms around me, patting my back.
“Thank you. What’s the second thing?”
“Will he have a scar?”
Again, Kit Kat replied for me – this time with an impatient sigh. Again Loopy ignored him.
“And thirdly… can I have something to eat?”
*******
*What?!*
CLICKY: I couldn’t resist.
*/squint… Well, I’m glad you’re seeing a funny side to this, Clicky *
To be continued in “Dreamy, Sleepy, Nighty, Snoozy Snooze’… Have a Song
Dear Reader – Over the course of the next three days Thoughtful Man’s health deteriorated as the size of his jaw increased…
*Exactly, Clicky, he looked like Desperate Dan…*
*Hurting? Oh yes, Clicky, he was in a tremendous amount of pain.*
Despite a visit to the doctor, who prescribed him two courses of antibiotics and extra strong painkillers, Thoughtful Man’s swelling and discomfort got worse. I wondered if he might have mumps…
Thoughtful Man groaned with the effort of speaking.
“Yes, but it says here,” I stroked the screen of my iPad, “‘Once you’ve been infected by the mumps virus, you normally develop a life-long immunity to further infection.'”
Miserable eyes stared back at me. Blankly.
“Normally… that’s not exactly definite, is it?” I put the iPad aside and squidged down beside him under the duvet. “And we’re not exactly normal, are we?”
*/shrug…*
“Please, go back to the doctor in the morning. You don’t seem to be getting any better.”
Thoughtful Man grunted acquiescence and closed his eyes. Gently, I touched his burning brow. “You’re still so hot. Is there anything I can get you?”
“A gun.”
*It’s alright, Clicky. I also refused his request for a one-way ticket to Switzerland… /rueful smile …*
The next day local doctor took one look at Thoughtful Man and sent him straight off to A&E.
“Abscess…” he croaked down the phone line to me, “…operate immediately… if it bursts, I’ll die.”
*******
*Tell me about it! Oh, Clicky, it’s been another long one. I’m off to bed…*
To be continued in ‘Tracheotomy Tears’. Have a Song.
Dear Reader – it’s been a bit of a bollocks week, if truth be told. Thoughtful Man has been ill…
*Ha! Well, that is my usual reaction when he says “I don’t feel well”. But, Clicky, this week… /looks skywards*
It all started during a movie double bill on Sunday evening. Somewhere between ‘From Hell‘ and ‘Sleepy Hollow‘, Thoughtful Man uttered the dreaded words…
*******
“I don’t feel well.”
Thoughtful Man switched on the fan heater, full pelt, and flopped onto the bed, beside me. “My teeth hurt, my neck’s sore, my head aches and I’m fucking freezing.”
He didn’t look well. Certainly he didn’t feel well as he crawled under the duvet – heat radiated off him. He shivered closer, laying his sopping wet head on my lap for me to stroke.
*Yeah. I could have done with a sponge…*
*…/rolls eyes*
An anxious night followed, filled with fitful sleep and delirious shouts of “Seven” from Thoughtful Man.
*Dunno, Clicky. Could mean anything… Hmm, the sweat was running off him… /taps teeth*
And in the cold light of Monday morning, it was obvious that this was more serious than man-flu. His throat and jaw had started to swell. Thoughtful Man was sick…
*******
*Stopping there? Yes, Clicky. I’m tired and I have lots to do tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.*
To be continued in ‘Abscess Makes the Heart Grow Fonder’. Have a Song.
I started posting knot-eyes of a sync over at MEROVEE yesterday. Frank in the Red Universe is having A Quantum Leap of Faith…
CLICK: Dry Bones.
*Yes, Clicky, I stopped it there because you were about to add a Song…*
*/squint… ‘Then somebody hangs up when you answer the phone’. That’s a very personal sync, as you are well aware. Hey, hey, where you going? Clicky?!*
CLICKY: We’re out of milk.
*OK bye, then! I’ll just put this all together myself, SHALL I?! /rolls eyes… I hope I haven’t lost my train of thought… /cracks knuckles…*
*******
A Void posted the other day about mounting Superstitions and a dead Head in ariZOna:
Oh hello! Do I see mention of Brandon Lee? That would be Professor Crowe that Click spotted… “We’re out of milk”. My arse!
And Vann? That syncs with my other Doctor, Shiny Sheldon… NAVigator.
We’ve been to Arizona, Thoughtful Man and I. Back before boys were ever on the scene. We based ourselves in Phoenix at a hotel called The Buttes. Americans love a British accent unless you tell them that you staying in their butts. Then they look on you with disgust. We found that out upon arrival, passing through Immigration.
Enter Legs with news of a really disgusting death.
Yesterday brought news of another dead head. A baby one, a seed. This time in mOZcow:
Oktyabrskoye Pole metro station received its name from Khodynka Field, a nearby locality which was known as October Field during Soviet Rule. Khodynka takes it’s name from a river and was the site of the first Russian powered flight. It became a regular airfield, in use through the late 1980s. The Russian National Air & Space Museum is at Khodynka.
Most recently on MEROVEE, we’ve been syncing underground…
Ah Scotland, policy test bed for so many London-based governments, the geographical head of the United Kingdom. The Romans tried to decapitated it…
…the SNP nearly pulled it off in 2014. No doubt they’ll try again but in the meantime they are developing their own policies for export.
The BASE jumper died by Sy Phon Draw…
syn-
word-forming element meaning “together with, jointly; alike; at the same time,” also sometimes completive or intensive, from Greek syn (prep.) “with, together with, along with, in the company of,” from PIE *ksun-“with” (cognates: Russian so-“with, together,” from Old Russian su(n)-). Assimilated to -l-, reduced to sy- before -s- and -z-, and altered to sym- before -b-, -m- and -p-. Since 1970s also with a sense of “synthetic.”
-phone
word-forming element meaning “voice, sound,” also “speaker of,” from Greek phone“voice, sound,” from PIE root *bha- (2) “to speak, say, tell” (cognates: Latin for, fari“to speak,”fama“talk, report;” see fame (n.)).
Now where was I before Clicky threw a spanner into my works? /taps teeth…
fame (n.) early 13c., “character attributed to someone;” late 13c., “celebrity, renown,” from Old French fame“fame, reputation, renown, rumor” (12c.), from Latinfama“talk, rumor, report; reputation, public opinion; renown, good reputation,” but also “ill-fame, scandal, reproach,” from PIE root *bha- (2) “to speak, tell, say” (cognates: Sanskrit bhanati“speaks;” Latin fari“to say,”fabula“narrative, account, tale, story;” Armenian ban, bay“word, term;” Old Church Slavonic bajati“to talk, tell;” Old English boian“to boast,”ben“prayer, request;” Greek pheme“speech, voice, utterance, a speaking, talk,”phone“voice, sound,”phanai“to speak;” Old Irish bann“law”).
The goddess Famawas the personification of rumor in Roman mythology. The Latin derivative fabulare was the colloquial word for “speak, talk” since the time of Plautus, whence Spanish hablar.
I’ve always been afraid I was going to tap the world on the shoulder for 20 years, and when it finally turned around I was going to forget what I had to say. [Tom Waits, “Playboy” magazine interview, March, 1988]
There was plenty of rumour and speculation leading up this weekend’s Famefestathon, the OZcars… Not only who would win awards but what the host, Chris Rock, was going to say?
CLICKY: Back… I had to go to the Blue Universe…
*You took your time, Click. I’m just getting on to our OZcar win…*
I posted knot-eyes at ‘Quantum Leap of Faith’ in the Red Universe.
*Great movie, Clicky, we should watch it again. Let me make myself a coffee first… /returns with look of disgust… I thought you went off to get some milk…*
Library of Libraries 