2017: Whiz You Were Here…

Thoughtful Man and I were just settling down to watch the latest episode of ‘Sherlock‘ yesterday evening when my iPad pinged to let me know that I’d received an email…

miss-me

“Don’t,” Thoughtful Man told me rather tetchily – we’d waited a long time for the resumption of Sherlock and he didn’t want anything interrupting the next couple of hours.

I looked anyway. “Oh My God! It’s a email from Whizzie!” I squealed with delight.

Thoughtful Man harrumphed but as the show had yet to start, it was in a more conciliatory manner. “Oh yes, how is she?” he asked.

“She’s okay,” I said quickly scanning the email. “Her family’s okay. Blimey, her mum and dad are still going.” Whizzie is my oldest friend, although we hadn’t been in contact for a good number of years; her parents were elderly then.

sherlock-start

 

“Shush. It’s starting,” Thoughtful Man said turning his attention back to the TV screen.

I didn’t need the recap so continued to read Whizzie’s email and then decided to sneak a quick Twitter DM off to Hugo…

roob-tells-hugo-of-whizzie-email

I chortled at the mention of ‘lolly’…

cultish-hugo-stone-front-cover
CLICKY: Available on Amazon

… That got me particularly evil squint from Thoughtful Man. I put the iPad down guiltily and gave my attention to the show. Synchronicity be damned – I, too, had been eagerly awaiting the return of the great detective…

*Oh, Clicky, did you have to?*

spoilers

*/rolls eyes… I’d better get started on my email reply… Where to start…*

 

Kitty Syncs A Fishy…

kitty-syncs-a-fishy

*******

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…

*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…”

*******

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…*

Who Vs WHO: Who’s Who and What’s What… What?

The new series of Doctor Who returns on 19th September and then there’s Sherlock at Christmas…. ah, I miss Moffat

Clicky! A purple spider, thank you. Purple is my PPE… I must say, Steven Moffat is entirely right when he says:

“You know in some ways, I think Mark [Gatiss] has got a point when he says that however good you imagine [the crossover], it would be almost better in your imagination than it would be if the two grand old egotists actually met,” he added.

I have a theory that people obey the WHO because they’ve grown up watching Doctor Who save humanity on a Saturday evening tea-time since it was…

… in black and white, Click. I caught the Who bug with No.3 and the spiders… you know, when he regenerated into…

jelly baby man, yes No.4, Click.

Yes, yes, Clicky, there’s probably a reason for that… makes Wales look good, I dunno. Now stop distracting me, I was talking about the WHO

It was founded practically single-handedly by a man, Clicky…

 

Brock Chisholm 'Doctor to the World'

‘Doctor to the World’

Perhaps he though Santa was Satan, Clicky, some people do 😉 Now let me get on…

My Y’ello friend Mhehed Zherting sent me an e-cig link this morning…

Mhehed brings Roobee ecig news

‘What’s interesting is that The Lancet revealed this “information” in an anonymous editorial rather than a proper article. Of course it’s impossible to be sure who wrote this, because it’s anonymous, but it is an editorial. That means it was probably written by the editor, and The Lancet’s editor is one Richard Horton.’

As far as Simon Chapman goes, yeah he really is a nob

Now if only Vapers could be convinced to stop acting like ex-smokers (i.e. sanctimonious twats) and realise for one minute that using Tobacco Control ‘harm reduction facts’ against smokers will not help them in the long run…

That’s right, Click, remember… Sat 19th September 2015 on BBC1 😉

Oh give it a rest, Clicky. Have a Song…

Who Knows What, Clicky?

*A game, Clicky? /sigh… I am trying to put a post together… Okay, go on then; you go first…*

*No. My turn. I’m I Sherlock Holmes?*

HqoRPw8

*Alright, okay. Look now I’ve got one for you. I came across a site today that analyses your writing and describes your personality. This is me apparently…*

Watson's diagnosis of Roobeedoo's personality from her text

The IBM Watson Personality Insights service uses linguistic analytics to extract a spectrum of cognitive and social characteristics from the text data that a person generates through blogs, tweets, forum posts, and more.

*Now look at this one; this one wasn’t me…*

Watson's diagnosis of Maquis de Sade's personality from his text

*Similar, no? Guess who that writer is. I’ll give you a hint; he’s mentioned in this interesting talk…*

*It came as a bit of surprise to me. Go on have a guess…*


Have Sock, Will Travel

Little Sock is small and white. Okay, the sole is grayish – it had been worn by Little Boys – but that’s beside the point. Little Sock is my travelling companion and this is the story of how that came to pass.  Dear Reader, it’s actually quite embarrassing…

*Nice job starting that in the right place, Clicky… /pats snouth… You can carry on helping me tell the story…*

It happened a few years ago, one cold, dark winter’s morning…

Laden with old laptop (i.e. heavy) and handbag overstuffed with paperwork, I pulled my big-arse coat close around me…

…and set off up to The Big Smoke for an early morning meeting with senior managers.  On the way I did as other commuters do…

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…and so didn’t notice the stowaway sock on my shoulder…

*I do not look like that, Clicky! …/thinks… Okay, maybe during the train portion of the journey…*

From Here to There, Little Sock had a grand view of the journey: train, tube and trot through windswept tunnels and frozen roads.  To anyone I passed, it must have looked like I’d taken a direct hit from a great height…

The first time I noticed the stowaway was when I shook my coat off at the other end. Little Sock floated to the floor… In front of the bods I was meeting!

Apparently, Thoughtful Man had everso thoughtfully used my coat, innocently hanging over the banister the night before, as a suitable place to dry Little Sock. The poor thing, having lost its sibling, was still damp after coming out of the washing machine…

*Rude…*

That would have just been an embarrassing story; however, it only happened again less than a week later!

nwy

*Way, Clicky!*

Little Sock, it appears, had got a taste for travelling.  Not wanting to give the impression that I’m Big Bird’s toilet again

…I decided to give Little Sock pride of place in my handbag.  That way it could travel with me everywhere…

Stowaway Little Sock at home

*I’m just thankful it was Little Sock and not Little Boots, Clicky…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😉