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AF1QipM6Clz57zQf9s4P9L5x5NvsI5PJGe_ik7wTgQ57 bright yellow growth.htm

Ginsters, baked beans an HP sauce.

Da Man!

Inifinity times zero still = zero

An in the meantime would you whip us up a canoe made outta branches 'n cling film . . . etc etc etc P.S. I do note the absence of female company/companions, MAN, what I could have achieved iffen ah hud nivver discovered the female sex!

I really like the cabin BillHook

Nowt new folks! see link https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glasgow_razor_gangs For deterrance, hang a few, to encourage the others, start with the clearly guilty, caught red-handed ones obviously, and regardless of age.

I always carry a pocket knife, generally a Swiss Army Officer model, I have carried it for about 30 years. A mate just brought me a lockblade Hunter from the US, a lovely purely practical knife, but I dare not carry it since the blade is both (i) lockable and (ii) 3&3/4" long. Madness, that the Law cannot see the difference between 60 year old me, who carries a knife as a simple everyday tool, and the oiks/scrotes/wronguns carrying knives for nefarious purposes. I did carry an 5" bladed Opinal when living in Belfast as a student, in the early 1980,s but again to me it was a tool for cutting things, not stabbing other people. EDIT A particular puke of a Regular Army Colonel looked quite distressed, when he asked why I was wearing a lanyard looped around my epaulette, and I produced a 1953 Broad Arrow marked RE issue SS Jacknife, with a surgical scalpel taped to the smooth SS side, plus the worn out Abbotoir knife in my webbing, for "hoking" as a RE person does. A strange bloke, but then he seemed to think the same of me! mth

But it was the musing of a still sober man, i.e. written prior to my P'Elvis consumption, and alluding to Carl Benjamin's poor taste joke in respect of Jess Philips. While pondering why one "joke" disturbed me more than the other.

All I really really want, is to witness, or enjoy? my own wake. I care not what people would say, hungering more for the raw truth. Such is life, and indeed death. mth

Brew Dog's P'Elvis Juice ackurly yer Honour!

Well I would not even, not in my wor'est nightmares, consider raping her, i.e. Jo Brand!

Anyone who has visited a parent, aunt or uncle in a residential or nursing home, must have cause to wonder at the quality of life most of them enjoy. My father fell into an excavation with a stroke, when fished out, then sat in a nappy for 4 years entirely unable to communicate,(but with perfect hearing and comprehension of the spoken word) his only brother that had farmed with him all their lives, never visited him in hospital, or the home, nor did he attend his own brothers funeral. He maintained that the man he had known and worked with every day for 70 odd years effectively died on the day of the stroke, despite medical science keeping him alive for an additional 4 years. I could not argue with his assessment. Plus "Nan" sitting in the corner of the day room, screeching like a banshee, every day, day in, day out!. etc etc etc Convene the Death Panels at once, and put me on the list for future attention if you wish. At 60 I am not afraid of death, and would much prefer a quick clean one, rather than a long lingering demeaning demise. Another issue that troubles me is the current nearness in gestation time between healthy babies being aborted late and exceptionally premature born ones desperately being kept alive. If that is not a severe moral conundrum I dont know what is.

P.S. A Bridesmaid of ours, having retired from a Band 8 Physio post, while also having been paid(albeit part time) as a full Colonel in the TA, is in such hardship in her recent retirement that she has "blagged" a Consultancy type role with our apparently not-so-impoverished Dept of Agri, and sommat else forby, but I forget what. How the other v small %age gets by!

Would that not be your brother? Wot you mentioned in another post a while ago, if I recall.

So the ordinary non-occuptional pensioners are going to have to tighten their belts, to provide for inflated BBC Pensions, hmmmm . . .

Kevin, all down to serendipity, mind you with the space easily reaching 25-30 odd Degrees, at 750mm from floor level! (I then opened the upstairs windows to dump the heat into the landing) , and still rarely below 15-20 first thing in the morning, from probably early April, little wonder. I feared it could get too hot and perhaps scorch the plants, but fingers crossed, not so far. Annoyed that I did not sow and bring on Tomatoes(in particular), but next year . . . The three surrounding cavity walls and insulated floor screed, obviously hold some considerable heat right through the night. And what really really works is the low Winter/early Spring Sun, striking in through the vertical glass, it can actually be hotter earlier in the year when the Sun is low and the sky is clear. A beautiful place to sit, especially early am when the stored heat from the previous day(s) is clearly palpable. Life is Good. Marcus P.S. I really need to get an inside/outside set of thermometers, with data logging, to record the temperature differentials.

Well, I took a nice pic am today, 15 reasonable, reasonably ripe peaches(cos I ate a doncy one that fell off when I installed the support strings last week) And my home grown thumb sized unripe Peach, was as sweet and tasty as the muck on offer in our supermarkets(or fruiters), which is to say not very, but still . . . And on the near dead "freebie" Peach tree planted the back end of 2016! I will need to prune it and train it against the wall/into the corner this winter.

Yes, BUT, You then get screwed over, tax wise, and for some benefits wise, when drawing down your pension!

Hip Hip Hooray! A long-long overdue response to the cynical UK Councils, Local Authorities, Municipalities and Cities, exporting their waste, under the pretext it was re-cyclable, when any fool(i.e. yours truely/the very dogs in the street, et. al.) knew the Blue Bin waste was routinely contaminated, if not heavily contaminated with nappies and other black bin shite. And was told by my fellow Officers on the Refuse side of the operation to wind my neck in, when I asked them simple, but unanswerable questions, yet they continued to pontificate and publish about how much of our waste was being recycled. Lying hypocritical Fuckers! Ditto for the baled cardboard/paper/clean segregated plastic etc etc. signed, Disgusted of Dervock!

I not unreasonably believe "these" people do not use shopping lists, at all, ever. Anyway to use such a list would require the ability to both write and read. So definitely not the case. P.S. I once read a very good novel set in the period of the Roman Empire's zenith, the author chose to refer to such people as "the headcount", since they were not allowed to vote. That seemed to be such a sound, well grounded decision. Oops, I fear I am starting to sound like Big J. MTH Edit, why does "headcount" make me imagine Lice?

I pop the Steyr Puch into 4WD Low to manuover on concrete or bitmac, "technically" a no-no because no centre diff. But a few meters of back/forward driving in Low is not going to wind the transmission up. I also ran the Lightweight/air portable Series III in 4WD on the road, BUT, the speeds I was driving at on wet/muddy leaf strewn rural Scottish roads, I was not going to get the transmission wound up, since there was often enough a tyre with insufficient traction/or "spinning", so as to unwind the transmission. Horses for courses.

The petrol engined Series III Land Rover's I drove in the TA way back in the 1980's gained my enduring respect for their mechanical simplicity and off road abilities, if not for their build quality, panel fit or cabin comfort. A quiet, intelligent and exceptionally competent Premix truck owner/driver demonstrated what they were capable of in a disused hard-rock quarry, in bog-standard trim with the ordinary Army spec Michelin tyres. Cheers Marcus

I really dont give a monkeys-fuck about her self-pitying, self-inflicted "circumstances". Btw. Wor Son described her as a rude fat cow/sow. Cheers mth