Flags, flags, flags

Before you can start writing a blog, you have to attend a Blog Swearing-in Ceremony and solemnly promise to report everything that happens in your area.
In order to fulfil this requirement, I suppose I shall have to mention the millions of St George's flags that are covering the land while the World Cup rages in Germany.

I can't say I feel comfortable with so much flag waving. It reminds me of the Nuremberg rallies, and that's something I'd like to forget (especially the one where I had a stall selling beads and incense - what a waste of time that was).

Up till about, what, ten years or so ago, you'd only ever see the England flag (St George's Cross) in pictures of racist rallies. Then other nationalities started putting their flags on cars - Jamaican, Pakistani,Somali, Welsh, Scottish,etc. and I guess the English thought they wanted to get in on the act too.

Now, the (English)world and his dog all wear red and white crosses in every possible permutations. There are St George's hats, T-shirts, shoes, wedding dresses, coffins, incontinence pants and so on, ad infinitum.

Still, the flags may all disappear if England get knocked out this weekend, so I thought I'd take a few snaps while they're still here.

Morris Dancing

Hey nonny nonny-o, Oi loves to go ablogging-o, Oi loves to go ablogging-o upon the Inturrrnet.

Morris dancing is a form of traditional English dance that's been practised in rural areas from at least the Tudor times(1500s)when they were very big on it.

These days, however, Morris dancers are generally held in contempt by the wider population. There are some cruel but funny jokes about Morris dancers, such as -

Q.Why don't you get Jewish Morris dancers?

A. Because it takes a complete prick to be a Morris dancer.

and

"I'll try anything once except incest and Morris dancing"


Yup, on a Cool Scale of one to ten Morris dancing is about minus twenty.
Morris dancers are generally seen as middle-management/accountant types pretending to be authentic country dwellers, and I'm sure there's a bit of truth in that.


But, while stressing that neither I nor any of my friends or family have not never no way ever indulged in Morris dancing, I would like to say a few words in their praise.

I first encountered Morris dancers years ago when I used to go to a folk club at a pub called The Globe in Newbury. The folk club was upstairs, while the ground floor was the preserve of a motorbike gang called the Berkshire Eagles.

One week the guests at the club were Bampton Morris. I've since seen a picture of Bampton Morris taken in about 1900. Obviously they weren't the same guys, but there was probably an unbroken tradition going back a long way.

These geezers did look fairly authentic. They certainly looked more like farm workers than accountants and they drank and drank and drank.

By the end of the evening they were quite sozzled and they finished off with a rousing dance that involved them forming a circle, dancing round and then all stamping in the middle.
Well, a jolly time was had by all, but when we left and went downstairs we found that the ceiling below had collapsed on the bikers. One guy had been taking a shot on the pool table at the time and the fluorescent light and its tin surround had fallen on his head.
Luckily, no one was injured or electrocuted and everyone seemed to regard it as a big joke, even the pub landlord.

So the Berkshire Eagles were accidently humiliated by Morris dancers, but worse was to follow.

A while later they came to the attention of the Windsor Hell's Angels, a seriously mean bunch who tolerated no other biker gangs in their area. They descended on The Globe one night and severely trounced the poor Berkshire Eagles. A great hullaballoo ensued with the police chasing the Hell's Angels down the M4. The result was one police car written off and the bikers getting away to fight another day. I bet they're still bragging about that night in Valhalla.

I never heard of the Berkshire Eagles again, perhaps they disbanded or changed their name to the Berkshire Chaffinches.
I'd like to report that the Hell's Angels and Bampton Morris got together and formed a coalition, but sadly that wasn't the case and, even to this day, Hell's Angels are significantly under-represented at Morris dancing events.

And the moral of this story is. . . well, it hasn't really got a moral, it's just a story.

Idle amusement

b3ta Lots of funny animations. I like the guy with the ball on the first page. Oh, and the Queen in the Mini/phone box. If you follow the link from that one (Mutated Monty - I bet that isn't his real name), he's got loads more stuff including a much more sinister portrayal of the Queen as a ravenous spider.

Modern Flies

Do you like these new flies they've got out? In the 20th century flies were not very colourful. Now, thanks to the Internet, we get them in all colours and shapes and sizes. Very shiny ones too. I was reading about this sort in Flyspotter's Monthly, a periodical for people who like watching flies. Apparently they are much better at flying around lightbulbs than ordinary flies. Also it's possible to train them to fly in formation. The Queen now has her own fly display team for use on ceremonial occasions.

FlyTip: Rotting meat left in your home or garden will attract a wide variety of flies for you to watch.

Events

Always lots of events in the summer. Above: scene from a collage on the St Werburgh's art trail. People open their houses to display art to the general public. Below: people coming from the Big Bike Ride. An annual event to promote cycling. In the background old tobacco warehouses and the Ashton Court Estate, a public open space on the outskirts of Bristol.
Below that: The end of ride festival under the bridge.




Below: people watching the World Cup in a pub. The pub was part of the art trail and there was an exhibition going on upstairs.

Why I'm not playing in the World Cup

I don't know why, but it always comes as a surprise to me when football teams change ends after half time.
So it's just as well that I'm not playing in the World Cup. I can imagine myself scoring an amazingly quick second half goal and then celebrating by pulling my shirt over my head or doing a robot dance or something, only to slowly realise that there was a stunned silence coming from our supporters.
It would be very embarrassing, so it's probably for the best that Sven didn't pick me as part of the squad as I would have had to say no.
Even so, I'd have appreciated being asked. I think he might be prejudiced against me because I'm getting on a bit and rather tubby.

When you think about it, he hasn't selected any old or overweight players at all. No women either. Or people of other nationalities. Not very representative of 21st century Britain, is it? Surely it's time for football to adopt a more inclusive attitude?

Dolphinarium

My attic is full of junk and is doing nothing much at the moment. I'd like to try and use it for something more interesting and I've come up with a scheme that looks a bit crazy at first glance but, who knows, might just work.
My plan is to convert the attic into a dolphinarium.
Some people think this is a stupid idea, but I don't know. True, there would be problems. I not sure what the animal rights situation is. Is it cruel to keep dolphins in attics? And then there's the weight of the water on the rafters. And do I need planning permission? Or a dolphin licence?

But no pain, no gain, as they say. Problems were meant to be overcome. I thought I'd have two dolphins called Flipper and Flapper. Not very original, I know, but to be honest, naming them isn't the highest priority on my agenda right now.
There are other, more pressing problems - How much fish will I need to feed them? Where can I get it? I live about 20 miles from the sea, but I'm fairly busy at present. I don't know if I could spare the time every day to go and catch a load of fish. Would they eat fish-flavoured cat food, do you think? It wouldn't look as good when they jumped up to catch it, but it might serve as a stop-gap measure.

Anyway, I'm not doing this just for the money;I genuinely want to help conserve these wonderful creatures. But of course a few quid would come in handy.
I'm not sure where I could put all the spectators, as there won't be a lot of room in the attic. They could go on the roof, I suppose. I could make holes in the roof so they could peer in and watch F and F doing their tricks. In fact, wouldn't it be good if they leapt out of one hole then back down another. People would be able to see that from the street. I could charge them a reduced fee to watch it from there.
Of course, having a load of spectators on my roof would open a whole new can of worms regarding safety. I would definitely have to have a cordon around the edge and probably employ extra staff to marshall them. It's things like this that pile on the cost and make you wonder if it's all worth while.

I don't know if I'd allow people to get in the tank and swim with the dolphins. Obviously if it was a sick person seeking a cure then I'd lend a sympathetic ear but, by and large, I think we should try and preserve the dignity of these highly intelligent creatures.

Well, I think I've talked myself into it. The night is still young, so I'll get started on the conversion straight away.
If anyone knows where I can buy some dolphins, please let me know. Can you get them on E-bay, I wonder?

Giles Wemmbley-Hogg

Another good radio comedy. Giles Wemmbley-Hogg Goes Off

Radio 4 Comedy

Artistic Licence

Top: Picture of Park Street
Bottom (from the same spot): Park Street

Can you spot the difference?

Montpelier Station

Montpelier station is now unstaffed. So the rail company have graffitied it themselves to save the local vandals the trouble.

Something happens

This morning the local TV company phoned me and asked if I was the man that nothing happened to. When I told them I was they asked to come round and interview me for a piece on Points West.

Great, I thought, fame at last.
No doubt you can guess what happened next...

I managed to survive the earthquake and being hit on the head by a meteorite when I ran out into the street. What disturbed me more was the alien abduction and turning into a giant beetle. Plus I've contracted bird flu and, for reasons I won't go into, I'm now living in Miami on the Witness Protection Program.
On the plus side I did score a goal in the World Cup.

God,I dunno. You couldn't make it up, could you?
Well, maybe you could.

Anyway, the TV people were very sweet, but they did want a story on someone nothing happened to and I just didn't fit the bill any more.
However, they told me to get in touch immediately if nothing started to happen to me again.

Nothing

Today's big news is that nothing much is happening to me. My heart is beating, lungs breathing, most of my organs (at least the ones I can see) appear to be functioning correctly, but life is quiet and uneventful.

Oh, I found 10p on the pavement yesterday. Don't have a photo of it. Sorry.

Tum-ti-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum...

Right, yeah, better be getting on. Nice chatting to you.




If you're really in need of a diversion, you could try this site. It's fandabidozi. Allegedly.

The Krankies fan club

radio comedy

BBC comedy

Armando Iannucci's Charm Offensive is worth a listen.
Click Listen not the title.

Football Rendezvous

I arrived at the house at the appointed time. It was in a quiet-ish suburban street, there was nothing to mark this house out as different from any other (except the door number, of course).
Rather than knock on the door, I used the push button electronic device that alerted them to my presence.
I was shown in through a corridor to a windowless inner room. In the corner was a large box displaying images. I immediately recognised it as a television set - a device capable of showing images of events happening far away or in the past.
On the screen a football match was taking place. After a while they changed ends.
When the match was over, I walked out into the afternoon sun. People were going about their business - washing windows, cleaning gardens, mending roofs. They hardly gave me a second glance. I smiled to myself; I wonder what they'd think if they knew I'd just seen a football match on a television set!

Media Cover Up

One good thing about these blogs is that we can step in when the media ignores events or tries to hush them up.

I have been reliably told by an informed source that there is going to be a major sports tournament taking place over the next two weeks.

Why hasn't there been any mention of it in the papers or on TV? Admittedly I haven't been looking too closely, but the whole thing smells of a cover-up to me. I have to ask : "What are they trying to hide"?

Apparently the event will take place on the Continent, probably somewhere in Germany, and will concentrate on a sport known as football. This is similar to golf, except the ball is hit with a foot instead of a golfing stick, and rather than a hole in the ground, the ball is directed to a "goal".

The usual format is for two teams to oppose each other and whoever scores the most goals (numerically speaking) is often declared the winner.

The teams are arranged along national lines. England has entered a team. Their top player is a young man called Rooney who seems to have recovered from a recent injury. However, as he is closely related to the potato family there are fears that blight or Colorado beetle may affect his performance. Doctors are keeping their fingers crossed, although some of them are complaining that it's hard to work with crossed fingers.

I shall be entering into the spirit of the competition by supporting Sweden, who I have picked in a sweepstake. I stand to win thirty-two great britain pounds if they finish top. I don't know much about the team except that the coach is called Lars Lagerback, which is good enough for me. I have a plastic Swedish flag and, although I don't know any Swedish songs, I'm sure I can embellish something along the lines of "I can't find my Volvo in the snow". Ja!Ja!Ja!

Greenbank

Catching a train

I caught a train today. Here are some other people with train-catching on their minds.


View from the bridge.


I didn't catch this train as it was too smokey.


This one was too red and yellow



But this little one was just right!

Car colour anarchy

As you may know, the area I live is RED CARS ONLY!! But you'll always get one selfish person who will spoil it for everybody else.

This is the scene that greeted me when I looked out of the window today. A GREY CAR in among the red ones. It's really disgusting and it makes my blood boil. I would have gone and given the driver a piece of my mind if I wasn't such a timid person.

I've phoned the police but they told me to go away. This country is really going to the dogs.

Escaped Foxglove

A foxglove (an escapee from my garden, I think) has flowered by the Grit bin.
I don't think I ever saw foxgloves until I was quite old. That was in an old oak wood in mid-Wales.
There are lots of foxgloves in the hedges in some places; on the way to the Sugar Loaf mountain, for example.
They produce the drug Digitalin,a powerful heart stimulant that's considered too unpredictable to use.
That's all I know about foxgloves

A Trip to Bath

Totterdown from the Bath Road.


Downtown Brislington.


Bristol to Bath is only about eight miles. In between is some nice countryside. This is Kelston Hall on top of the hill.


This bleak estate is the Royal Crescent in Bath.


Bath street from a pub window. A vegetarian pub, mind.



Evening sunlight and Bath Abbey.



Pulteney Bridge and Weir.



Sun Mask



Inside the mask shop. Oo...er!


Evening sun





Some music



People dancing




The Bridge by Night