Friday, January 31, 2014

It easier to handle a friendly lion than it is to deal with an angry dog

Quote of the day

Life is the same for everyone when you are alone at night in an empty room

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Decision made!

I've done it! I have made my mind up. I know what to do about the cuckoo clock AND little Tilly.
I am going to beat her to death with the fucking cuckoo clock.

She's only little

She's only little, about five months old and her name is Tilly, Tilly Trotter. We were down the yard seeing to the horses, feeding, mucking out, that sort of thing and Ellen Jane, (Her who splits her head open and gets five stitches just for a laugh,) said, "Why don't we take Samson and Tilly for a walk?"
"Okay," says I, but Samson wasn't cooperating so we just took Tilly.
So there we were, walking round the track when Tilly decided to stop and refused to move another inch. Well, the world is brand new to her and everything new she encounters has to be stared at for half an hour.
"Come-on! Tilly," cries out hero. (that's me by the way.) And I pulled her lead rope. Ha! She might be little but like all females she has a mind of her own. If she decides she's not moving, she's not moving. So I give the lead rope to Ellen Jane and I get at the arse of the horse to chivvy her along a bit. She lashed out and her leg hit my thigh. Good job it wasn't a hoof and it only hit my thigh, I would have been writing this from an A&E department.
Of course EJ thought it was hilarious.
"Little bastard," I said, could have been referring to either one of them, take your pick.
Anyway, not even a bruise, which was lucky, but there again, she's only little.

Monday, January 27, 2014

Waiting for my chance

So here's me, sitting here just doing my best to ignore the fucking cuckoo clock. Listen! when I bought that nobody told me what a pain in the arse it would be. "Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuck-fucking-oo!"
Now I know why nobody likes the Swiss.
As if that wasn't bad enough it plays a little tune as well.
Well, I've got a plan. The first chance I get I am going to assassinate the little bastard, I will be doing my public duty, I will be doing everyone a favour!
So, until then, I'm just sitting here, waiting for my chance.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Sunday Night, (almost midnight)

It's Sunday night and getting on for the witching hour. I've had a couple of glasses of Scotland's finest golden nectar and I will soon be on my way to my solitary pit. Don't feel sorry, I prefer sleeping alone, I've had a lot of practice. The other day Ellen Jane and the rest of us were sitting at the dining table, satisfying the ravenous beast, (feeding the dog under the table in my case) and out of the blue she said, "You know what I have always wanted...a cuckoo clock."
Fate has a strange way of playing with us because a couple of hours later I went into the Blue shop on Fulwell Road and Kath who runs the place said to me, "Freddy! Wait till you see what I've got for you," went into the back room and came out with a cuckoo clock and all the bits. Mind, it WAS in bits too!
"Look," said she. "It's broken but it will still make a nice ornament. Give me two quid for it."
So I did.
It didn't take Joe very long to get it working and all back together and now we have a cuckoo clock that goes, "Cuckoo!" on the hour and once for every hour, whatever that hour is. THEN it plays a little tune.
Anyway, tonight, Joe videoed it at 11 o'clock...eleven "cuckoos" and a little tune. He said he is putting it on Facebook.
Personally, I am posting this and then finishing my last glass and going to bed, after all, it is almost midnight, Sunday Night.


Something woke me up early this morning, so I am not at my best at all. No idea what it was, I just woke and when I looked at my bedside clock it was just after 5 am. Cripes! the sparrows aren't out of bleedin' bed yet!
Anyway, I wandered downstairs, doing my best not to fall down in the dark and breaking my neck, (and some folk might think THAT'S not a bad idea) ( but we won't mention that, eh?) Went into the kitchen after noticing that Ellen Jane was asleep on the settee. She must have fallen asleep watching the telly and Joe, her husband must have decided to leave her there because she had a quilt over her. Anyway, in the kitchen the dog started shoving me around as usual so I made myself a cuppa, gave Tara another pat and came back upstairs.
I know what I am going to do next. I'll post this scintillating piece of prose, finish my tea and go back to sleep, after all, it's still early.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

I don't care much for sly people.

Earlier on tonight I drove all the way to Hartlepool to see someone and when I got there, standing outside the front door after knocking and ringing, I got no answer. Cold it was, standing there like a tin of condensed milk. I knew they were in, they always are. I gave them a ring on their mobile AND the house phone, no response.
Okay, it is entirely their choice who they speak to but at least they should say so, not hide and pretend to be deaf. I don't care much for sly people.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

I'm just getting old

I'm just getting old, that's the problem.
The signs are all there. You know the sort of thing; You stand up after sitting for any length of time and you go, "Aaahh," because the knees take a few moments to catch up...You take your time going up stairs...Not much bothers you anymore but at the same time a lot of things start to piss you off.
Ha! I'm glad you mentioned THAT!
Lots of things are starting to piss me off.
For a start, those clowns who can't pull their fucking trousers up! They walk around with their trousers hanging down to their knees, it's trendy. Have they any idea where the practice stems from? It comes from the American prison system. The 'Punks', the 'Bitches', wear their trousers hanging off their arses as a sign that they are available.
THAT pisses me off, trousers hanging down. Another thing that pisses me off are people who can't comb their hair! They have made it trendy to look like they just woke up. They look like fucking tramps!
And of course idiots who ride bikes on pavements. Get on the roads or the cycle lanes, that's what they are there for!
It's raining, rain always pisses me off, either that or perhaps I am just getting old.

I've Been a Bit Busy

Our Michelle asked me the other day, "Have you stopped doing your blog?"
Well, I haven't actually stopped, I've just been a bit busy.
Having said that, when I think about it, I haven't been doing much but it takes a lot of effort, not doing much. I wake up each morning in my extremely comfortable bed, and let me just say this; After over a quarter century of sleeping on Lizzie Windsor's nasty beds, my current bed is bliss. Any mature ladies who want to try it, send me an email. No young women please, I do not need some young lady knocking on my door to tell me that she has a belly full of arms and legs, I'm too old for that bollocks.
Where was I?
Right. I wake up each morning in my comfy kip and I am usually sprawled all over it, it's one of those king size things, loads of pillows, snuggly duvets, it's brilliant. Who would want to get out of such a bed?
I finally persuade myself to get up and once I have had my first cuppa I wander down to the Green and get the papers, come back and sit in the dining room to read them and do the crosswords. Well, I am retired, what have I got to hurry for?
The dog needs taking for a walk, that's usually the next job, but at the same time my little sister Ellen Jane wants a lift down to the yard to see to her horses. She sees to my horse as well so normally I don't mind. I shove Tara into the back of the car, her barking and general anti-social behaviour drawing the attention of the passing populace. I drop EJ off at the yard sometimes, sometimes I stay with her there and do horsey things, but normally I go off on my own with Tara down to the beach or somewhere equally open-spaced. By the time she has had her run about, usually soaking wet and filthy, she gets back into the car and makes the rear seat wet and filthy but I don't mind that, I never sit in the back.
By then of course I am hungry so I drive to somewhere tasty like the café overlooking Roker beach or the Roker Pie Shop or somewhere. Good, wholesome, cheap feed, you can't get vexed.
Then it's usually back to the yard or some other place where I have odd interests of one sort or another, none of them even worth mentioning but they interest me.
Back home by tea time with a bit of luck, seeing various members of the clan and onto my writing while I wait for my tea, and let me say right here, our EJ keeps a good food house, we dine well.
By then, it's dark out so I can't do much else apart from play cards or read on my tablet thing.
We have a few jars then supper of course and before I know where I am I want to go back to my lovely comfy bed, I mentioned it earlier.
So, in response to the question, "Have you stopped doing your blog?" The answer is, "I have been a bit busy."