Mister Wibble

are we there yet?..



Do not be fooled

Grav the impaler

 
No chewy toy shall overcome him, nor dastardly flying insect. His courage and fearsome jaws hath struck terror into the hearts of his foxy foe. He rolleth in their poo.

For he is Grav, Mangler of Small Plastic Items.

 

(1) People chin wagging Sunday, 11 May 2008

Very very busy

Grav the destroyer

My apologies for the recent hiatus. I've been kept rather busy by this young chap, amongst other things.

I'll post again over the next few days.

You all keeping well? 

(6) People chin wagging Thursday, 8 May 2008

Neighbourhood watch

A regular mooch around the interweb thingy.

Bloggism
Tim of A Free Man In Preston frequently entertains me with his turn of phrase. "An ejaculate of salesmen argued the toss" being the latest favourite.

Chicken trauma has blighted village life for JonnyB. Thankfully, Short Tony and the gang have been around to help out.
Poor chicken four is no longer, but village life continues and the helter-skelter of the bowls season is upon us. Phew.
 
 
Interweb
Virgin Galactic have chosen the base for their space passenger service. Kiruna (Lapland) is the town chosen for what looks to be the future centre of commercial space travel from Europe.  No one can hear you scream in the arctic circle..

Luurve on the Northern Line. Apparently a third of people interviewed in a survey think the Northern Line has the sexiest passengers. That's if you like sweaty teenagers with droopy arsed jeans and "just been shot in the head" haircuts, I suppose.  
 
Art and Photography
Chris Scarborough has some new images. Niftily morphed; his characters remind me a little of Ron Mueck's  ultra-realist sculptures

Gregor Schneider wants to exhibit a person in their dying hours. Perhaps he'd like to emulate Guillermo Vargas. If you're asking; I'd be quite happy to have the pair of them exhibited naked, and tied to Boris Johnson while nipped by a trio of disgruntled Rotweillers. 
 

(1) People chin wagging Friday, 25 April 2008

Against Guillermo Vargas

 

 

When I was small, say four or five years of age, we had a dog. He was a beautiful young Labrador, and my sister named him Pepsi. My father would not allow us to walk him or play with him, and insisted that Pepsi spent the entire day in our shed, until he returned from work and would take him out in the fields. 

 

Even in winter, Pepsi would spend his days alone in the shed, whimpering and whining to be let out. My father kept a lock on the door. I would sit by the shed door whispering to Pepsi, and hear his breath through the broken slats.

 

Occasionally, Pepsi would be allowed into the the house. We would be delighted, and there were many cuddles and hugs for him from us children; but he was not house trained. Any small "accidents" would be met with my father beating Pepsi and rubbing his nose in whatever he left on the carpet. I would go to my room and cry, wishing that I could help.

Over the months Pepsi became withdrawn, and would snap at visitors and occasionally us children. He began to lose weight and we became very worried for him. My father refused to get him seen by the vet; insisting that he knew what was best for the dog. We persuaded him to allow Pepsi into the house when it was wet or cold. The beatings and cruelty continued, until one day when Pepsi took his chance and fled.

 

I spent the next few weeks with my brothers and sisters searching the fields and woods. He was gone, and did not return, no matter how much I called for him.

 

I've never forgotten Pepsi, and I never forgave my father his cruelty.

 

Now I have  Joe; my beautiful, distinctly nutty, and special friend. He came from Battersea Dogs Home after being left out on the street when he was just a puppy. He's eight now, and is very loved by all of us.

So - click on the image at the top of this post, and sign the petition please. 


Death For No Reason

 

(3) People chin wagging Wednesday, 23 April 2008

Show and tell

Saturday morning:
4.05 am - We're up and at 'em early today. There's a "dawn chorus watch" up on the hill. Off we go, sleepily stumbling up the steps that wind through the wood to St Augustine's. Little to be heard yet, only the stiff breeze rattling the flag pole on the steeple.
Over the next hour we're treated to Song thrush, wren, robin, great-tit, black cap and black bird - all competing for their territory, and the absence of traffic noise here, deep in the wood, makes it all the more beautiful. In the dim light, we catch sight of a woodpecker silently flitting tree to tree, though we went for the sounds - and were rewarded well. J's getting to grips with identifying bird song, and is thrilled when she gets it right.
BBC dawn chorus
Spring watch

10 am - Awake for croissants and fresh coffee while watching Robinson Crusoe on DVD, bought by J for my birthday. It's the original 1960's adventure series based on the classic story by Daniel Defoe; and if you're a certain age you'll probably remember it fondly.
I was four when it aired on Sunday evenings here, and vividly recall sitting by the fire to watch with my brothers and sisters; all six of us glued to the screen and my mother behind us, secretly swooning over Robert Hoffman.
Listen to the theme tune
Watch a clip

4.30 pm - To Greenwich and to "Noodle Time" for a quick nosh before a film. Greenwich Picture House is showing Garth Jennings' "Son of Rambow". If you're an eighties child, you'll love this.
Son Of Rambow
Greenwich Picturehouse 

 
Currently reading:
Spike - An Intimate Memoir.
By Norma Farnes.
Buy it

 

Listening to
Hot Chip - Made In The Dark
Martin Simpson - Prodigal Son
Goldfrapp - Seventh Tree
Bob Dylan - Modern Times
Black Uhuru - Red
Last.fm

 

(2) People chin wagging Sunday, 20 April 2008

Mutiny!

To Wiltshire for a 40th birthday do. The theme was "Pirates". I spent a pleasant and raucous evening surrounded by large farmers dressed as pirates and other assorted seafaring characters.

 

Scary.

 

West country people do not really have to try too hard in replicating your average pirate voice. There were many cries of "Mutinaaaaay!", "Pieces of eight!", "Buggery on the high seas!", and other more unmentionable calls which can be left to your vivid imagination, dear reader. Suffice to say, Captain Pugwash and his friends were much referenced...

 

I reckon I made quite a passable Long John Silver. Robert Newton - eat your heart out. *cough*

Aaaaaargh!

Here I am accompanied by a bevy of wenches who would "slit yer throat soon as look at yer".. Thankfully, I am a handsome and charming Cap'n, exempt from such low skullduggery.

 

There be trouble on the poop-deck mateys...  

 

(5) People chin wagging Tuesday, 15 April 2008