Monday, April 20, 2020

Lost and Found

This is the sort of stuff you find when you're spring cleaning...

A childhood game of snakes and ladders.  And it took you fifty-odd years to discover the message hidden in plain sight:  Every action has a consequence.  The industrious boy at No. 37 zooms up to No. 86 whilst the sociopathic girl torturing the cat at No. 94 is rewarded with a slide all the way down to 53.

The boy who plays with matches ends up with bandages the size of boxing gloves and the little girl who washes the dishes gets to see the one-trick pony at the circus.  And yes, it's true that boys get rewarded for being heroic and the girls get kudos for domestic chores.  And for sure, no surprise, the boys get the longest ladders, but they also have to deal with the most treacherous snakes.

Growing up, I couldn't say how many times we played this game, but I never noticed any of it.  It probably explains the complete lack of morality and human decency, plus the urge to drive over chickens and smash glasshouse windows.      

Saturday, April 11, 2020

A Caring Nation

It's great to know that helping disadvantaged kids in Africa is a priority on this little island of ours...

A special thanks to the dude who dropped off the clapped-out exercise bike at the Rotary School Bikes Africa collection point in Dunmore.  

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

The PM is Erect!

According to the Guardian/BBC/Telegraph and Financial Times -- "He's sitting up in bed!"

  Yes, once a man can sit up in bed, he's a-okay.  A vertical posture on the old mattress is what modern doctors use to confirm a diagnosis of wellness.

"How's your patient, old chum?"
"Damn bugger is lying down."
"Dashed bad luck.  I expect you tried everything to get him into an upright position?"
"Extra pillows and a couple of sturdy nurses."
"I believe a ferret in the pyjamas has been known to work."
"I'm a firm believer in the old hot cup of Bovril."
"As a drink?"
"No, as an enema."


Quiet Nights in Kilkenny

Thursday, April 2, 2020

Hair Scare

The One Show on BBC has received complaints regarding advice issued about at-home hair dye.

Hairstylist Michael Douglas appeared on the show to discuss hair care and maintenance during isolation, as people can longer visit their usual hair salons.

Michael said:   "If you want to cover grey hair... The stuff you buy in the supermarkets is the exact same stuff that gets used in the salons... "

The advice, however, sparked a backlash as many expressed concern about the safety of home-dye kits.

Hairdresser Fiona was "disgusted that there was no mention of patch test." 
Hairdresser Jeannette was "so shocked."
Hairdresser Sheralynne was "very disappointed."

THIS is stylist Michael Douglas.  Look closely and you will notice that he is a bald man with lots of hair.  His hair advice should be regarded with suspicion.

Our Furry Friends Will Save Us.

According to the BBC: " In the past few days, the CSIRO team has inserted vaccine samples into ferrets - small, furry mammals which have been proven to contract the coronavirus in the same way humans do."

Yikes!  this is very bad for the Yorkshire ferret-leggers.  The sport is difficult enough without the added possibility of fatal lung disease.  That said, most of the practitioners are coal miners, so they may have that one covered already.

From Wikipedia:
"Edward Simpkins from the Isle of Wight set the new world record of five hours and ten minutes, although he only had one ferret in his trousers during the first four hours and two for the last seventy minutes. Simpkins sustained two large bites during his record-breaking attempt, but continued to play a game of darts undeterred."

The EU would probably insist on gum shields for the ferrets and chain-mail underpants for the contestants.  Is it any wonder that Brexit is happening?

Tuesday, March 31, 2020

In the beginning...

Yesterday.  Day 1.  Got up late and switched on the laptop. Joined half the country and applied for the COVID-19 payment.  And it was easy. Almost a pleasurable experience.  What a contrast to our signing-on days in Werburgh in the 1970s and 80s

A lot of people will tell you that before mobile phones, the principal method of meeting up was in the pub, but in fact, it was the dole office. You'd catch up at the hatch. We had little brown cardboard cards, half-written in Irish.  Folded in two, dogeared and tucked into the back pocket of Wrangler jeans.

Were you allowed smoke in Werburgh Street back then?  Probably.  You could smoke pretty much wherever you wanted.  Planes, trains and upstairs on buses.  There were always two compartments on the London tube where you could light up.  Many was the time I boarded an empty train at 6:30 in the morning and blazed up a joint before work. -- Ahh, those halcyon days before health and safety.

At 11:30,  a walk on the ring road where the speeding cars were trying to outrun the virus, driven by unshaven, bleary-eyed men on the way to the off-licence to pick up vital medical supplies.

At 3:30pm started preparing red beans and rice for the family.  Traditional Monday dish in Louisiana.  Found myself singing Tom Traubert's blues by Tom waits.
"I wish I was in New Orleans... I can see it in my dreams."
But who in their right mind wants to be in that city at this moment?   It's a hot spot for this disease and it will, of course, be ignored by the federal government. Anyone remember hurricane Katrina?

7pm, at my desk facing the window.  A van drives past.  'Bouncy Castles.'  But nobody is bouncing at the minute.  It'll probably be a long time before we bounce again.