I've spent about seven and a half hours today trying to get something amusing to happen to me, but no luck.
The nearest I came to it was when I rode my unicycle on a tightrope over a vat of custard. I thought to myself,
"Aye,aye, this is a potentially amusing situation if ever I saw one"; but nothing happened. I just delivered the sack of coal and carried on as normal.
Then I had to help a man carry a long plank across town.We managed to do it with the minimum of fuss and no unusual incidents, humorous or otherwise, can be reported.
I'm just going off for a job on a building site and if that doesn't work I'll take my pet crocodile into a bar or see about becoming dyslexic.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Countryside
Today I are been mostly going in the countryside.
Some countryside
An old train
Teddy family
Goat and Goose
Some countryside
An old train
Teddy family
Goat and Goose
What next for Pluto?
More Pluto stuff -
Pluto is very small. I read somewhere that it was only a fifth the size of the moon. That seems tiny, perhaps I'm wrong.
In 1968 astronomers discovered Charon, a moon orbiting Pluto. Charon is about half the size of Pluto. In 2005 two other moons, Nix and Hydra, were discovered by the Hubble Space Telescope.
So what will Pluto do now that it is officially a 'dwarf planet'?
Although an appeal against the decision can't be ruled out, friends say that it will continue to orbit the sun for the foreseeable future.
A film deal with Tom Cruise (also sacked this week) is possible, but it's hard to see how an object so far away could have anything but a minor role.
Pluto's range of expression are rather limited, though that didn't stop Charles Bronson or Sylvester Stallone, of course.
Some other solar system curiosities, before we pass on -
Saturn is so light that it would float on water, but you would need a very large lake or sea to do this.
Uranus is unique among the planets of the Solar System in having a name that can sound very rude if you pronounce it a certain way. This has been the source of quite amusing jokes.
Pluto is very small. I read somewhere that it was only a fifth the size of the moon. That seems tiny, perhaps I'm wrong.
In 1968 astronomers discovered Charon, a moon orbiting Pluto. Charon is about half the size of Pluto. In 2005 two other moons, Nix and Hydra, were discovered by the Hubble Space Telescope.
So what will Pluto do now that it is officially a 'dwarf planet'?
Although an appeal against the decision can't be ruled out, friends say that it will continue to orbit the sun for the foreseeable future.
A film deal with Tom Cruise (also sacked this week) is possible, but it's hard to see how an object so far away could have anything but a minor role.
Pluto's range of expression are rather limited, though that didn't stop Charles Bronson or Sylvester Stallone, of course.
Some other solar system curiosities, before we pass on -
Saturn is so light that it would float on water, but you would need a very large lake or sea to do this.
Uranus is unique among the planets of the Solar System in having a name that can sound very rude if you pronounce it a certain way. This has been the source of quite amusing jokes.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Blighter's Rock
Oh Gawd. Times are tough.
I know that my public are out there, hungry for the latest instalment from sb4444 but I just can't think of anything to write about.
My cat won't let me photograph her anymore since some unauthorised pictures appeared in the tabloid press; The Anglo-Saxons have all gone to Butlins for two weeks. (I look forward to reading the account of it - ' ... and in this year did Aelfric and Aelred take part in the Knobbly Knees contest ...')
But here in the newsroom at SB4444 we're all sitting around twiddling our thumbs (we've got a lot of thumbs), waiting for the next big story to come in.
So to pass the weary moments, may I write about Pluto, the first ex-planet in the history of the Solar System?
Yes, Pluto got demoted from being a planet this week by the International Astronomical Union. Personally I'm not surprised. I've been unhappy with its performance for some time. I'm convinced that Pluto rising in Aries last year caused me to injure my knee and lose a favourite pencil.
Not that I'm into astrology. I'm a Leo with Mars and Saturn squared in my birth chart, so that means I don't believe in all that nonsense.
Pluto was discovered in 1930 but has always been dogged by controversy and eccentric behaviour. This came to a head in 2003 when another body called 2003 UB313 was discovered that was bigger than Pluto but didn't even have a proper name (even the number 313 should be in subscript).
That did it for the IAU who voted to show Pluto the red card.
The name Pluto, from the Roman god of the Underworld, was first suggested by an 11-year old girl living in Oxford, UK. She was Venetia Burney, from a family of Oxford academics. She is still alive today, aged 87 and living in Epsom. She has no strong opinions about the demotion, but would prefer it to remain a planet.
She also has an asteroid named after her, asteroid 6235 burney and (it says on Wikipedia) "The Student Dust Counter, an instrument on board the New Horizons spacecraft is also named after her".
I'm intrigued by the idea of a Student Dust Counter.
That's all, folks!
I know that my public are out there, hungry for the latest instalment from sb4444 but I just can't think of anything to write about.
My cat won't let me photograph her anymore since some unauthorised pictures appeared in the tabloid press; The Anglo-Saxons have all gone to Butlins for two weeks. (I look forward to reading the account of it - ' ... and in this year did Aelfric and Aelred take part in the Knobbly Knees contest ...')
But here in the newsroom at SB4444 we're all sitting around twiddling our thumbs (we've got a lot of thumbs), waiting for the next big story to come in.
So to pass the weary moments, may I write about Pluto, the first ex-planet in the history of the Solar System?
Yes, Pluto got demoted from being a planet this week by the International Astronomical Union. Personally I'm not surprised. I've been unhappy with its performance for some time. I'm convinced that Pluto rising in Aries last year caused me to injure my knee and lose a favourite pencil.
Not that I'm into astrology. I'm a Leo with Mars and Saturn squared in my birth chart, so that means I don't believe in all that nonsense.
Pluto was discovered in 1930 but has always been dogged by controversy and eccentric behaviour. This came to a head in 2003 when another body called 2003 UB313 was discovered that was bigger than Pluto but didn't even have a proper name (even the number 313 should be in subscript).
That did it for the IAU who voted to show Pluto the red card.
The name Pluto, from the Roman god of the Underworld, was first suggested by an 11-year old girl living in Oxford, UK. She was Venetia Burney, from a family of Oxford academics. She is still alive today, aged 87 and living in Epsom. She has no strong opinions about the demotion, but would prefer it to remain a planet.
She also has an asteroid named after her, asteroid 6235 burney and (it says on Wikipedia) "The Student Dust Counter, an instrument on board the New Horizons spacecraft is also named after her".
I'm intrigued by the idea of a Student Dust Counter.
That's all, folks!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
A good numbers trick
Amaze your friends!!
Bewilder your enemies!!
...with this amazing numbers trick.
First: Write down the number 1089 on a piece of paper. Don't let anyone see it. Fold it to hide the number and give it to the person you're doing the trick on. Tell them to put it in their pocket or somewhere safe.
Next: Get them to write a three digit number. You have to look at this as they musn't have numbers where the first and last digits are the same or one apart
If they are not more than one apart get the person to add or subtract one.
--Example: 365
Then: Reverse the number and then subtract the smaller number from the larger.
--Example: 563 - 365 = 198**
Then: reverse that number and add it to itself.
--Example: 891 + 198 = 1089
Get them to open the piece of paper you gave them.
Voila!!
Another example: 498; reverse and subtract (894 - 498 = 396); reverse and add 396 + 693 = 1089! Amazing isn't it? I wonder who discovered it.
**A lot of people are out of practice at subtraction and find it difficult. Make sure they have the correct answer.
Bewilder your enemies!!
...with this amazing numbers trick.
First: Write down the number 1089 on a piece of paper. Don't let anyone see it. Fold it to hide the number and give it to the person you're doing the trick on. Tell them to put it in their pocket or somewhere safe.
Next: Get them to write a three digit number. You have to look at this as they musn't have numbers where the first and last digits are the same or one apart
If they are not more than one apart get the person to add or subtract one.
--Example: 365
Then: Reverse the number and then subtract the smaller number from the larger.
--Example: 563 - 365 = 198**
Then: reverse that number and add it to itself.
--Example: 891 + 198 = 1089
Get them to open the piece of paper you gave them.
Voila!!
Another example: 498; reverse and subtract (894 - 498 = 396); reverse and add 396 + 693 = 1089! Amazing isn't it? I wonder who discovered it.
**A lot of people are out of practice at subtraction and find it difficult. Make sure they have the correct answer.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
My New Hands
Sorry I've been away from the keyboard for so long, but I had a rather unfortunate accident at work.
As some of you know, I work part-time as a lion tamer with a local circus and often end an act by putting my head into the mouth of Leo, the largest and most ferocious of all the lions. The audience love it and it usually goes down a treat; but last week something went wrong.
As I removed my head, I felt a strange nakedness on my face and realised to my horror that my spectacles were missing; they must have dropped off and fallen down Leo's throat!
Now, those glasses have been in my family for over three generations and I wasn't about to lose them down an animal's gullet, King of the Jungle or otherwise. So I immediately plunged both my hands down the creature's throat to try and recover the aforementioned optical aids.
I don't know if it was the specs tickling his throat or my hands going down in hot pursuit that did it, but Leo suddenly took it upon himself to become Mr Awkward and clamped his teeth together as hard as he could, severing both my hands in the process.
I had a few choice expletives to say to him, I can tell you, as I looked at the stumps of my arms with the blood pumping out of them.
I tried to open his mouth to get my hands back, but he wasn't having any of it. I don't know if you've ever tried to prise open the jaws of an angry lion, but it's not as easy as you think it will be, especially if you've got no hands.
After having no luck in recovering my hands, I decided to go to the ringmaster and complain. He wasn't very sympathetic; his opinion was that it was all part of the job.
Nevertheless, he did agree to phone the hospital for me to see if they had any spare hands. I'm glad he did because it happened that they were expecting a hand delivery that very week.
They were as good as their word, and a few days later I had the new hands fitted on. They're rather large compared to the rest of my body and a bit too bright green for my taste, but beggars can't be choosers as they say.
On the plus side, it turns out that the hand donor was an accomplished pianist, so I've been able to entertain my friends around the Old Johanna of an evening.
More negatively, apparently he was hanged for being a being a serial killer and I've had trouble with the hands trying to strangle me in my sleep or even sometimes during the day.
This can happen at some embarrassing moments; earlier this week I went for a job at the local bank (having decided that lion taming isn't for me), and I'm sure that the sight of me rolling on the floor screaming while the oversized green hands grasped at my throat didn't impress the interview panel. I wasn't surprised when I got the letter telling me I'd been unsucessful on this occasion. You can ask them for feedback and get more specific reasons for their refusal, but I don't think I'll bother.
Anyway, apart from those blips the hands are working nicely. Now I've taught them to type in English and not Ukranian, I'm hoping to return to blogsville with immediate effect.
I got my glasses back, by the way. They're covered in lion dung but better than nothing. As for my original hands, they're back too, but I can't be bothered with changing them again. So, if you know of anybody who wants a pair of hands smelling of lion poo, please let me know. Genuine enquiries only please.
I'm telling this story so that anybody in a similar position can take hope from my experience.
All's well that ends well.
As some of you know, I work part-time as a lion tamer with a local circus and often end an act by putting my head into the mouth of Leo, the largest and most ferocious of all the lions. The audience love it and it usually goes down a treat; but last week something went wrong.
As I removed my head, I felt a strange nakedness on my face and realised to my horror that my spectacles were missing; they must have dropped off and fallen down Leo's throat!
Now, those glasses have been in my family for over three generations and I wasn't about to lose them down an animal's gullet, King of the Jungle or otherwise. So I immediately plunged both my hands down the creature's throat to try and recover the aforementioned optical aids.
I don't know if it was the specs tickling his throat or my hands going down in hot pursuit that did it, but Leo suddenly took it upon himself to become Mr Awkward and clamped his teeth together as hard as he could, severing both my hands in the process.
I had a few choice expletives to say to him, I can tell you, as I looked at the stumps of my arms with the blood pumping out of them.
I tried to open his mouth to get my hands back, but he wasn't having any of it. I don't know if you've ever tried to prise open the jaws of an angry lion, but it's not as easy as you think it will be, especially if you've got no hands.
After having no luck in recovering my hands, I decided to go to the ringmaster and complain. He wasn't very sympathetic; his opinion was that it was all part of the job.
Nevertheless, he did agree to phone the hospital for me to see if they had any spare hands. I'm glad he did because it happened that they were expecting a hand delivery that very week.
They were as good as their word, and a few days later I had the new hands fitted on. They're rather large compared to the rest of my body and a bit too bright green for my taste, but beggars can't be choosers as they say.
On the plus side, it turns out that the hand donor was an accomplished pianist, so I've been able to entertain my friends around the Old Johanna of an evening.
More negatively, apparently he was hanged for being a being a serial killer and I've had trouble with the hands trying to strangle me in my sleep or even sometimes during the day.
This can happen at some embarrassing moments; earlier this week I went for a job at the local bank (having decided that lion taming isn't for me), and I'm sure that the sight of me rolling on the floor screaming while the oversized green hands grasped at my throat didn't impress the interview panel. I wasn't surprised when I got the letter telling me I'd been unsucessful on this occasion. You can ask them for feedback and get more specific reasons for their refusal, but I don't think I'll bother.
Anyway, apart from those blips the hands are working nicely. Now I've taught them to type in English and not Ukranian, I'm hoping to return to blogsville with immediate effect.
I got my glasses back, by the way. They're covered in lion dung but better than nothing. As for my original hands, they're back too, but I can't be bothered with changing them again. So, if you know of anybody who wants a pair of hands smelling of lion poo, please let me know. Genuine enquiries only please.
I'm telling this story so that anybody in a similar position can take hope from my experience.
All's well that ends well.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Ipswich
I - P - S - W - I - C - H
Wassat spell???
Wassat spell???
Ipswich!!!
I once spent a year in Ipswich. I'm not bragging, I just did.
Ipswich is out on the east coast, about 70 miles from London, a fair old step, and not near anywhere else much.
Surrounded by Tory country, Ipswich is an industrial town and solidly Labour. It has a football team that used to be in the top division in English football.
And who can forget Keith Dellar, the darts player from Ipswich, who rose to fame briefly in the early Eighties?
The people have a strange accent and pronounce 'have' as 'hiv'.
It is very cold there. One night when I was there the temperature went down to minus sixteen.
There are quite a few West Indian and Pakistani people there.
I have never seen so many West Indians with ginger hair and freckles as in Ipswich.
There were also a lot of American servicemen from the nearby air bases. You could see them a mile off, both black and white. They were all really big, quite a different physique to the local people.
There was a pub, I can't remember the name unfortunately, where all the naughty things in Ipswich went on.
On one side was a separate pool room, full of ganga smoking Ipwich Rastafarians, and in the main bar very camp old gay guys sat around talking to pantomime prossies.
I saw a TV programme about Ipswich in the War and this pub featured in it. It was a flashpoint between black and white US servicemen in World War 2 and there was a stabbing there, which shocked the town.
I also went to the local astronomy group's open night at their HQ in a stately home observatory.
It was a huge telescope with a built-in chair in a purpose-built observatory,constructed for the eccentric lord of the manor in the 19th century. It had a lift operated by water, though that wasn't working during my visit.
It happened to be a really clear evening and we saw the setting crescent moon followed by Venus.
The milord who built the place always wanted Queen Victoria to visit, but she never did.
He had a village relocated because it spoiled his view.
It was him who put up the money for the first railway in Ipswich and that is why, to this day, the trains head north and then skirt round the town, instead of going directly south; it was because old lordy didn't want to see any poor people on his way to London.
And that's what Ipswich means to me!
Ipswich on Wikipedia
Wassat spell???
Wassat spell???
Ipswich!!!
I once spent a year in Ipswich. I'm not bragging, I just did.
Ipswich is out on the east coast, about 70 miles from London, a fair old step, and not near anywhere else much.
Surrounded by Tory country, Ipswich is an industrial town and solidly Labour. It has a football team that used to be in the top division in English football.
And who can forget Keith Dellar, the darts player from Ipswich, who rose to fame briefly in the early Eighties?
The people have a strange accent and pronounce 'have' as 'hiv'.
It is very cold there. One night when I was there the temperature went down to minus sixteen.
There are quite a few West Indian and Pakistani people there.
I have never seen so many West Indians with ginger hair and freckles as in Ipswich.
There were also a lot of American servicemen from the nearby air bases. You could see them a mile off, both black and white. They were all really big, quite a different physique to the local people.
There was a pub, I can't remember the name unfortunately, where all the naughty things in Ipswich went on.
On one side was a separate pool room, full of ganga smoking Ipwich Rastafarians, and in the main bar very camp old gay guys sat around talking to pantomime prossies.
I saw a TV programme about Ipswich in the War and this pub featured in it. It was a flashpoint between black and white US servicemen in World War 2 and there was a stabbing there, which shocked the town.
I also went to the local astronomy group's open night at their HQ in a stately home observatory.
It was a huge telescope with a built-in chair in a purpose-built observatory,constructed for the eccentric lord of the manor in the 19th century. It had a lift operated by water, though that wasn't working during my visit.
It happened to be a really clear evening and we saw the setting crescent moon followed by Venus.
The milord who built the place always wanted Queen Victoria to visit, but she never did.
He had a village relocated because it spoiled his view.
It was him who put up the money for the first railway in Ipswich and that is why, to this day, the trains head north and then skirt round the town, instead of going directly south; it was because old lordy didn't want to see any poor people on his way to London.
And that's what Ipswich means to me!
Ipswich on Wikipedia
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Anagrams
I was just reading about a Frenchman called Andre Pujom, who discovered that his name was an anagram for "pendu a Riom" (i.e. hanged at Riom).
He thought that this meant that his fate was to be hanged at Riom, a town in Auvergne, and he didn't help matters much by travelling to Riom and committing a murder.
Sure enough, he did get hanged at Riom.
Postscript: While writing this, I was a bit peturbed to realise that my own name is an anagram for " Horribly mangled by a combine harvester in a village near Ipswich".
Should I go to Ipswich? It's tempting. I do have some cheap railway ticket vouchers and it is harvest time.
I'll think about it.
He thought that this meant that his fate was to be hanged at Riom, a town in Auvergne, and he didn't help matters much by travelling to Riom and committing a murder.
Sure enough, he did get hanged at Riom.
Postscript: While writing this, I was a bit peturbed to realise that my own name is an anagram for " Horribly mangled by a combine harvester in a village near Ipswich".
Should I go to Ipswich? It's tempting. I do have some cheap railway ticket vouchers and it is harvest time.
I'll think about it.
Trip to London
Off to London on the train to visit the Tate Modern.
I haven't been to London for a while and I was wondering if I should bring gifts for the people there. In the end I decided against it.
Once you start giving gifts to some of them, they might all want one. With a population of 8 million that could become prohibitively expensive. Even if the gifts only cost 25 pence each, that's still two million quid.
Quite frankly, I just haven't got that sort of money. Even if I had, I don't think I'd spend it on giving cheap geegaws to the entire population of a large city.
And there'd be problems with distribution; it would take me ages to give out all those gifts on my own and you'd have to factor in transport costs too.
Plus, a lot of people in London are quite rich and probably wouldn't appreciate me giving them cheap gifts - that could produce the sort of embarrassing situations that I'd prefer to avoid.
Sooo ... after careful consideration, I thought I'd give it a miss.
If you are from London, I hope you will understand my reasons and find it in your heart to forgive me.
Anyway, on with the show -
On the way up, we passed Didcot Power station. Built by the Druids over 4,000 years ago, it is still in use today and supplies top quality electricity to homes and gardens throughout Britain.
Paddington station.
Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni, is reputed to be buried under one of the platforms. But - be warned - the station authorities won't react kindly if you try digging there.
There are a lot of buses in London, most of them red. The old Routemaster buses have nearly all gone, though I did see a couple of them chugging about.
I think this is Aldgate, a very old bit of London. Is the statue a Griffin?
St. Paul's Cathedral. Designed by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire of London (1666). You can climb right up to the top of the Dome, but it costs seven pounds to get in.
Notice that the lower part of the building is just a drawing. What a swiz!
The famous Tower Bridge down the river. It was a misty, murky day.
The strangely shaped building is "The Gherkin", designed by Norman Foster. It's quite new. Maybe in a hundred years time there'll be lots of buildings like that.
The Tate Modern is a former power station, now turned into a free art gallery. You can get there from St. Paul's via the Millennium Bridge.
As befits an art gallery, the Tate Modern is full of art.
To be honest, I reckon I could do better than most of it, even with my good hand tied behind my back. Some of it's OK though. I liked these floating things.
This was a room full of letters, etc. all with the writing crossed out.
Along the South Bank to Waterloo Bridge. This is the London Eye with Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament behind.
The London Eye isn't an eye at all, but a big wheel with capsules for people to go in and see over London.
This is Neal's Yard, near Covent Garden.
In this yard in 1962, a man called Neal discovered that people would pay up to twenty quid for a small jar of marigold ointment.
And so the famous Neal's Yard Remedies were born.
There was a bead shop in Neal's Yard. Here are some of their beads.
That's all, folks!
I haven't been to London for a while and I was wondering if I should bring gifts for the people there. In the end I decided against it.
Once you start giving gifts to some of them, they might all want one. With a population of 8 million that could become prohibitively expensive. Even if the gifts only cost 25 pence each, that's still two million quid.
Quite frankly, I just haven't got that sort of money. Even if I had, I don't think I'd spend it on giving cheap geegaws to the entire population of a large city.
And there'd be problems with distribution; it would take me ages to give out all those gifts on my own and you'd have to factor in transport costs too.
Plus, a lot of people in London are quite rich and probably wouldn't appreciate me giving them cheap gifts - that could produce the sort of embarrassing situations that I'd prefer to avoid.
Sooo ... after careful consideration, I thought I'd give it a miss.
If you are from London, I hope you will understand my reasons and find it in your heart to forgive me.
Anyway, on with the show -
On the way up, we passed Didcot Power station. Built by the Druids over 4,000 years ago, it is still in use today and supplies top quality electricity to homes and gardens throughout Britain.
Paddington station.
Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni, is reputed to be buried under one of the platforms. But - be warned - the station authorities won't react kindly if you try digging there.
There are a lot of buses in London, most of them red. The old Routemaster buses have nearly all gone, though I did see a couple of them chugging about.
I think this is Aldgate, a very old bit of London. Is the statue a Griffin?
St. Paul's Cathedral. Designed by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire of London (1666). You can climb right up to the top of the Dome, but it costs seven pounds to get in.
Notice that the lower part of the building is just a drawing. What a swiz!
The famous Tower Bridge down the river. It was a misty, murky day.
The strangely shaped building is "The Gherkin", designed by Norman Foster. It's quite new. Maybe in a hundred years time there'll be lots of buildings like that.
The Tate Modern is a former power station, now turned into a free art gallery. You can get there from St. Paul's via the Millennium Bridge.
As befits an art gallery, the Tate Modern is full of art.
To be honest, I reckon I could do better than most of it, even with my good hand tied behind my back. Some of it's OK though. I liked these floating things.
This was a room full of letters, etc. all with the writing crossed out.
Along the South Bank to Waterloo Bridge. This is the London Eye with Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament behind.
The London Eye isn't an eye at all, but a big wheel with capsules for people to go in and see over London.
This is Neal's Yard, near Covent Garden.
In this yard in 1962, a man called Neal discovered that people would pay up to twenty quid for a small jar of marigold ointment.
And so the famous Neal's Yard Remedies were born.
There was a bead shop in Neal's Yard. Here are some of their beads.
That's all, folks!
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Wish you were here
Oh no! It's the Anglo-saxons!
A.D.1012. This year came Alderman Edric, and all the oldest counsellors of England, clergy and laity, to London before Easter, which was then on the ides of April; and there they abode, over Easter, until all the tribute was paid, which was 48,000 pounds.
Then on the Saturday was the army much stirred against the bishop; because he would not promise them any fee, and forbade that any man should give anything for him.
They were also much drunken; for there was wine brought them from the south. Then took they the bishop, and led him to their hustings, on the eve of the Sunday after Easter, which was the thirteenth before the calends of May;
and there they then shamefully killed him.
They overwhelmed him with bones and horns of oxen; and one of them smote him with an axe-iron on the head; so that he sunk downwards with the blow; and his holy blood fell on the earth, whilst his sacred soul was sent to the realm of God.
The corpse in the morning was carried to London; and the bishops, Ednoth and Elfhun, and the citizens, received him with all honour, and buried him in St. Paul's minster;
where God now showeth this holy martyr's miracles.
When the tribute was paid, and the peace-oaths were sworn, then dispersed the army as widely as it was bef0re collected.
Then submitted to the king five and forty of the ships of the enemy;
and promised him, that they would defend this land, and he should feed and clothe them.
Ends
Errm... not really funny, is it?
Then on the Saturday was the army much stirred against the bishop; because he would not promise them any fee, and forbade that any man should give anything for him.
They were also much drunken; for there was wine brought them from the south. Then took they the bishop, and led him to their hustings, on the eve of the Sunday after Easter, which was the thirteenth before the calends of May;
and there they then shamefully killed him.
They overwhelmed him with bones and horns of oxen; and one of them smote him with an axe-iron on the head; so that he sunk downwards with the blow; and his holy blood fell on the earth, whilst his sacred soul was sent to the realm of God.
The corpse in the morning was carried to London; and the bishops, Ednoth and Elfhun, and the citizens, received him with all honour, and buried him in St. Paul's minster;
where God now showeth this holy martyr's miracles.
When the tribute was paid, and the peace-oaths were sworn, then dispersed the army as widely as it was bef0re collected.
Then submitted to the king five and forty of the ships of the enemy;
and promised him, that they would defend this land, and he should feed and clothe them.
Ends
Errm... not really funny, is it?
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
AWOL
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Bees and Peas
When I looked out this morning,
What do you think I saw?
Six dried peas and one dead bee,
A-hanging round my front door.
Who was the hand that put them there?
What did they do it for?
Surely putting peas and bees
Must contravene some law?
Now, bees and peas can spread disease,
So keep your locks secure,
And beware those things that rhyme with cheese,
A-laying on the floor.
What do you think I saw?
Six dried peas and one dead bee,
A-hanging round my front door.
Who was the hand that put them there?
What did they do it for?
Surely putting peas and bees
Must contravene some law?
Now, bees and peas can spread disease,
So keep your locks secure,
And beware those things that rhyme with cheese,
A-laying on the floor.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Photos of My Cat
Every day I receive literally hundreds and hundreds of letters from fans and well-wishers from around the world.
Because there are so many, I'm afraid that I'm unable to reply to everyone personally; but pleased be assured that I try to read as many of your messages as I can.
Some people request items: locks of my hair, for example. Or toe nail clippings or parts of my internal organs. I always try to comply with their wishes if I'm able to.
But by far and away the greatest number of requests I get are for pictures of my cat.
"Please show us," they say, "we've never seen a cat before and are curious to find out what it looks like."
Well, especially for all you people in Internet-shire, here are some photos of Spungeena, my violent, bad-tempered, censorious and (to be honest) not very interesting cat.
Enjoy.
Pensive
Animated
Theatrical
Amusing
Slightly Scottish
"Find me a Venezuelan"
Pompous
Overbearing
OtherWorldly
Majestic
Calvinistic
Marginalised
Robotic
Unrepentant
Contemplative
Trombone-like
Rubicund
Byeee!
More cat photos tomorrow!
Because there are so many, I'm afraid that I'm unable to reply to everyone personally; but pleased be assured that I try to read as many of your messages as I can.
Some people request items: locks of my hair, for example. Or toe nail clippings or parts of my internal organs. I always try to comply with their wishes if I'm able to.
But by far and away the greatest number of requests I get are for pictures of my cat.
"Please show us," they say, "we've never seen a cat before and are curious to find out what it looks like."
Well, especially for all you people in Internet-shire, here are some photos of Spungeena, my violent, bad-tempered, censorious and (to be honest) not very interesting cat.
Enjoy.
Pensive
Animated
Theatrical
Amusing
Slightly Scottish
"Find me a Venezuelan"
Pompous
Overbearing
OtherWorldly
Majestic
Calvinistic
Marginalised
Robotic
Unrepentant
Contemplative
Trombone-like
Rubicund
Byeee!
More cat photos tomorrow!
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