Gubbins, Bras & Panties

When your gubbins are spread all over the table it gets kind of scary.

Eventually all the bits go into the new box and amazingly enough they work. I've still got to hide some of the cables.

If motherboards don't appeal

Take a pair of panties, cut the crotch out (not really cut so much as tear). Put your head through that hole and your arms through the leg holes...VOILA! A bra. All I have to find now is a lady who is into experimentation, needs a bra and doesn't mind me ripping the crotch out of her panties.
Spotted at fyrchk.blogspot

This is all very well but

Does anyone know how to transform a bra into a pair of panties? Suggestions involving the word thong do not count.

Band Names Request

Tuesday Came & Went

I refuse categorically to post for Tuesday because I spent it bent double over this computer's electronic bits and pieces. They work but my back hurts and I refuse to say where I went tonight. At least I'm back home now.

Tama Drum Emporium

Milt's Bogsville Drum Emporium wishes to announce that it no longer has any Tama Rockstar drums or accessories in storage. The final bass drum and tom went on Sunday morning. We do not intend to restock.

Band Names Request

Do you have serious advertising flair? I was impressed by the thinking behind the band name Free Beer as posted yesterday. UK 3 piece indy band Ceiling have yet to hit the heights and I suspect they might well do better with a new brand name. These possibles have been suggested by JoD from Surbiton in the UK.

• To be Announced
• Postponed
• Closed for Refurbishment
• Closed on Police Instruction
• Fumigation in Progress
• Cancelled

Thanks for those suggestions JoD. That's a great start. Now we need even more names. The guys would be pleased to consider any other suggestions for a band name, guaranteed to generate a powerful public response. Please leave all suggestions in the comments section at the end of this post.

Rebuild

The computer will be off at some time today while I rebuild into a new supposedly quiet Antec case. This may go smoothly or it may screw everything up completely. At least it'll give me the chance to remove fag ash, dog hair and dead skin from all the gubbins or gubbinses, depending on which area of Bogsville you are from. All this is no longer purely hypothetical because white van man has just delivered the box. I am now switching off. I have obviously now switched back on and the new box is unbelievably quiet but I've got some of the front panel connectors connected to the wrong pins on the motherboard. On/off currently only works from the reset button but I can't be bothered to fiddle any more today. At least it's working and the gunge that came out of the old fans and CPU cooler was something to behold.

Inspired Suggestions

I have submitted BJB and Arc's inspirational suggestions to the Band. Dark Chocolate Truffles, Midol and Wet T-Shirt Contest all sound great to me. Keep those suggestions coming in PLEASE.

Donate Organs

It has been noted that I am a regular visitor to the Tulip & Tiara bar here in Bogsville. The visits are all of a medical nature. They are designed to keep Bogsville's dwindling band of medical professionals in business. Last night was bar free. As a result I don't know what is going on in Bogsville but I did discover that there is a plot afoot to donate my organs post mortem.

Somehow I fear that if the said organs won't support me, they are unlikely to support anyone else. I'm safer in the Tulip & Tiara where Raul and Merl show no interest whatsoever in my organs.

Free Beer

Here's a terrific story that I have unashamedly lifted from sanityadrift.

Jim decided that his band would be called ‘Free Beer’, and having spent a semester in an introductory advertising class during his ‘business major’ period, went on a whirlwind marketing blitz for his upcoming debut. His fliers, taped and stapled to virtually every signpost and bulletin board within the entire campus community, exclaimed in an extra large font, "Saturday at The Hole, Free Beer from 11-12pm!"

He chose the band’s name for precisely this reason, he told me. While, technically speaking, there was a certain amount of truth to his advertising, he felt that possible misconceptions would draw extra people into the bar, thus giving him a much larger audience than normally would appear for a group of minimally talented musicians who had only been practicing together for a few short weeks.

That Saturday, the bar was packed by 10:30. I venture out to watch Jim’s debut performance with some friends of mine. Unfortunately, by 11:00 the already drunk and rowdy college crowd, upon finding out that the promised ‘Free Beer’ wasn’t the same free beer that they were expecting, got even rowdier and uglier in the process. I slipped out the door with my other friends at 11:05, which was the exact moment that the first beer bottle was thrown in the direction of the stage.

I later found out from Jim that his band’s first concert lasted exactly 12 minutes. It took this long for the owner of the bar to kick his band off the stage, followed quickly by them all slipping out the back door. Jim’s first performance ended up costing his band over $500…the amount of damage that a crowd of rowdy college kids expecting free beer can produce in 12 minutes worth of time. The band broke up after that.

Go and read the story in its entirety under the heading The Price Of Fame.

Scrotum & Razor Blade

Yesterday's post was prompted by a guy who appeared in the Tulip & Tiara bar with a huge gold colored necklace round his throat, trendy track top, pants, tattoos, cap and rings. The guy looked like a complete nail. Let's face it he was a complete nail. He was as white as snow but his accent would have placed him somewhere between Iceland and California, inspired by a television set somewhere in between.

I've just watched a girl who was working behind the bar dissolve in tears. She works all day and then clocks on at night as a barmaid. She is super efficient and friendly. The bar stops serving and boyfriend/partner appears. Male arms are waved about and she reappears behind the bar to finish her shift with a red face and red eyes. The guy has disappeared. As far as I'm concerned she's worth at least two of him, but it's up to her to decide what she wants from life.

I'd have stapled his scrotum to the nearest table and then offered him a sharp knife or razor blade if he wanted to move on elsewhere.

Chavs Rule Init!

Chavs rule! u is all sayin dat we is fick and all dis but we smash yo head in init! jus ritin to let yall peeps no dat beein a chav ain’t all dat bad! i meen wen i walk down da street all da rudeboyz n widegirlz move 2 lemme froo, if day try n step up, ill just nok em spark out, init!
i no im a chav nd evryfin rite we r jst normal peepz tryin 2 av a gd tym jst nt in da way goths n skaterz n all dem gays do!! we get looked @ da way we do n goths n skaterz get away wit it all?! wtf's goin on?
me and my 2 m8s are the only chavs in the Tulip & Tiara and get called pikeys and cackers coz we wear trackies and hats and gold, don't see y people that wear baggy jeans and loose tops dnt get the same harsh comments, especially wen us lot dnt have a problem with them. No wonder chavs always fitin coz we always get lip, and we just standin up for ourselfs.
you wanna no why we get dissd so much.. ? i no this sounds completely sad but im the sensible one all ma chav mates go out get pissd n start fights n stuff like tht...which gi's u a bad name. i sort things out u dnt always av 2 fight.but then i fink im like this cos o ma sport init ?

So ther u r init.

Called To The Bar

The mobile phone vibrated its way gently across the table towards me. I glanced down and noted that I had been called to the bar again. I'm ashamed to admit that this is the seventh summons that I have received in as many days.

On Monday Mrs B. returned from her trip to visit her Father and I had the embarrassing task of explaining the battle scar bruising to the inside of my left arm, gained when I slid off the top of a very high fence early on Saturday morning. I think she believed me.

Saving for a rainy day

"Don't spend it now. Save it for a rainy day."

There comes a point when you realize that it has almost all passed you by and that the cash at your disposal merely symbolizes what you wanted to do and meant to do but didn't do.

Lower Body Workout

If you want to have fun and a little social intercourse in Bogsville, just turn up to a one off aerobics session at Bogsville Heights Lower School. The September 6th evening session will concentrate on the lower body while keeping the heart healthy. A lower body workout sounds excellent to me. Trouble is it only lasts for one hour and these old boggers need an hour to get warmed up. Wouldn't want them to pull anything would we?

Freelander Rear Wheel Problem

If you've got a Landrover Freelander don't drive off before you check the rear wheels. There's been a spate of rear wheel thefts from Freelanders in the Bogsville vicinity.

Which reminds me. A young guy who lived in Bogsville borrowed the family car to impress his young lady. He drove her out to a bar in the country and after an hour or so, escorted her back to the car to go and find a place to park up for a while. They climbed in, stuck it in gear, released the handbrake and marveled at the deep throaty roar of the exhaust. The car refused to budge.

When he got out to investigate the problem he found that someone had stolen all four wheels. I'm not sure whether he got the expected lower body workout or not.

University Education

I'm a great believer in University Education for the masses. Back in January, in Sandwell UK, the University of the Third Age opened up for pensioners.

The University features a range of courses including literature, criminology and computers (is that just one course or two?), music, strolls and outings. I'd sign up for the strolls and outings course. BA in strolls and outings sounds impressive. I just wish they offered a BSc in lower body workouts. I'll have to suggest it to them or maybe I just did.

What Is An Emergency?

Here in Bogsville I guess we spend as much time as anyone else blaming the Police for the ills of society. The other night Raul was dialling 911 or 999 or whatever it was and complaining that no one came. But if you look at what people dial the emergency services for it's hardly surprising.

Calls received in Lincolnshire and Humberside in 2003 included:
"I have been vomited over by my friend and I need cleaning up.
Do you microchip pets?
I'm lost and I want some directions to where I'm going.
This is not an emergency - but I've got no credit on my phone so I can't make any other calls."

Here's a good one from Avon and Somerset Police in UK. Don't click on sound only, it takes for ever to download. Click on "Launch Flash Window".

Yesterday's Downloads

Anyone who failed to download yesterday's Fartiste offering, made a mistake. Honestly.

Fraud Update & Fartistes

Sony Vaio fraud update.

Raul's $10,000 fraud was perpetrated by a guy who wasn't a burglar. He ordered the goods and arranged for next day delivery between 9.00am and 10.00am. He obviously thought that Raul would be out at that time. All he had to do was stand in the garden and when the delivery guy appeared, he would say, "Is that for me? I'm just on my way out," sign for the parcels and he's off out of it.

Unfortunately Raul works a lot from home so when the delivery guy appeared, Raul was still at home and signed for the goods himself.

Problem, the computers are now inside the house. The guy is not a burglar and doesn't attempt to break in. He waits until Raul leaves and then phones for a locksmith to open the front door for him. He has proof that he is Raul just in case the delivery man had asked for proof of identity.

He shows the locksmith the proof of identity but the burglar alarm goes off while the locksmith is drilling the lock. The guy doesn't know how to turn off the alarm and does a runner, so the locksmith phones the police.

Right now the computers are with the police who also have a description of the guy who claimed that he was Raul and a description of the vehicle that he was driving. Raul also has every approach to his property being captured on video.

Le Petomane

There seems to be much interest in farting. The greatest "Fartiste" was Le Petomane 1857 - 1945 who worked in Paris at the Moulin Rouge. There is a film, made for Channel 4 that starred Leonard Rossiter as the great man himself. It is downloadable from here. I laughed my socks, or should that read pants off at it last night.

For those of you who claim that your partners are expert at expelling air from the nether regions, download and show them how it should really be done.

Milt's Monastic Life

I have decided that I might as well join a monastery and become a monk. Research shows that so far this year I have had a conversation with a grand total of seven people.

Holiday Heaven or Hell?

Here's a description of some holiday place or other. Sounds perfect to me but apparently it didn't please the people who booked it.
" what a backward ass place. Our place was about 30 miles from anything - and I mean anything. No place to eat, no movie theater, no bowling alley, no stores or malls, no cell service, no wireless i-net nothing. I always thought it would be nice to have a cabin in the woods- bull-sh**."

Sounds like he should stay at home next time.

Help this woman

This woman is falling and needs your help. When she gets stuck give her a nudge with your mouse.

Sony Vaio Credit Card Fraud

Milt is bruised but not battered. I enter the Tulip & Tiara last night and Raul is telling the tale of how $10,000 US worth of computer equipment has been delivered to his house. Terrific except that Raul hasn't ordered any 17" Sony Vaio laptops. Someone else has, using details from one of Raul's credit cards. He also tells us that he received approximately nine number withheld phone calls in a half hour period on Friday morning. We happily discuss how his house is probably being broken into right as we stand at the bar. We leave at closing time and the next thing I know is that my home phone is ringing. You guessed. It is Raul ringing to say that his front door lock has been drilled out.

I go round there and the door lock has been neatly drilled out. The police take for ever to arrive. Merl and his partner Anne Yip Fon arrive. Merl stays at the front in case the police arrive. I go round the back with Anne Yip and Raul, climb the back fence, fall off the top, hence the bruising, open the back gates and we go in through the back door.

The boxes with the computer gear are still in the hallway. When the local policeman arrives he tells a story of how they received a call on Friday afternoon from a locksmith who was called to the property by a guy who said he couldn't get in. Locksmith drills half way through the lock before he reports the incident to the police. At around the same time Raul gets back home and goes in through the back door. He notices a locksmith's van parked on the pavement outside but thinks nothing of it. There's no sign of damage inside the hallway because the guy only drilled half way through the lock. At around the same time the locksmith reports that the guy who called him to the property suddenly ran off.

Don't know about you but it sounds to me like the major suspect is not Colonel Mustard with the candlestick in the Library but the locksmith with the drill bit in the Hallway with the boxes full of 17" Sony Vaios.

Raul had already contacted the credit card company and the computer suppliers and frozen payment on the order. Meanwhile the poor guy is left on his own at home with $10,000 US of computer equipment that he didn't order and a front door lock that is part way drilled through.

When I left, Merl and Anne Yip were still there. I await further details but I assure you that if credit card fraud can happen to Raul who is a technology wizard, credit card fraud can happen to anyone.

The Met Get into Marketing

I note that London's Metropolitan Police Force has spent £15,000 on trademarking its name and logos in a range of cetegories at the UK Patent Office.

This means that in the future it will be able to produce and sell Metropolitan Police or Scotland Yard aftershave, alcoholic and soft drinks, biscuits, chocolates etc.

What about funeral services, bereavement cards, headstones and video cameras that don't switch off while you are taking a leak?

British Army Unveils New Underwear.

What are British service men and women wearing under their uniforms? Somehow the the thought of a soldier going to war in a thong goes against the grain. Now, new underpants for combat in hot climates have been designed for British troops. Made from anti-microbial material to prevent infections and seamless help to prevent chafing, they were designed for male soldiers but women will be able to wear them until a ladies' range is available. I assume that male soldiers will be able to wear the ladies' range when they are available, should they so desire because the guy on the left doesn't look too happy.

There is also a range of boots with soles that can withstand temperatures of 300C (572F) and some partly bullet proof sunglasses. Partly bullet proof?

Late post

There have been some interesting goings on in Bogsville tonight but more of that in the morning.

Fix It Blogger

Blogger is screwing up my HTML code so that the pages don't validate with W3C Validator. At the top of the page Blogger has three buttons instead of the original two. There is now a button marked flag so that you can notify Blogger if you find a blog with objectionable content. Mouse over causes three lines of text to appear in a drop down box. Notify Blogger about <br> objectionable content. What does this mean? It is the coding for <br> that is causing the problem.

All that they have got to do is close the <br> tag by adding a space and a / to it - <br />. Come on Blogger sort it will you? If Milt can see what's wrong you must have someone who is up to fixing it.

Drip fixed

The saga of the plumber with a plunger is over. The ballcock valve for the central heating header tank was the problem and is now fixed.

Volvo radio code

I climb into the car to take Mrs B. to the railway station and discover that the radio is demanding a code. It happens when the battery is disconnected or goes flat. Mine went flat. The trouble is I never had a radio code number because I didn't buy the car new.

The good news is that I phoned the dealership and the guy told me what the code was. It was in his computer records. Computers are brilliant aren't they? So if someone steals my radio, all they need is the registration number and a call to the local friendly dealership will get them the code to get the radio working. Not just that but the guy said that if the code didn't work they would send someone down to remove the radio and get the code off the back of it. Not very high tech but very useful to know if you spend your time stealing car radios from Volvos.

Dog Poop, Plumbers & Wind Farms

Volvo stinks of dog poop. Why Dog decides that he has to poop in the back of the car as soon as we start moving beats me but poop he does and then walks around in it.

Number two plumber

I have to admit that I am impressed by number two plumber with a plunger's diagnostic skills. Since he turned off the water supply to the central heating header tank there has been no drip from the overflow pipe. He was obviously correct about the ballcock valve being faulty. The guy could have diagnosed a problem with the hot water cylinder and there is absolutely no doubt that muggins here would have paid for a new one.

I am pleased that I have been visited by an honest central heating engineer but absolutely gutted that I didn't/couldn't spot the ballcock valve problem myself but then neither did/could heating engineer/ plumber with a plunger number one who works for the same company as plumber with a plunger number two.

The faulty valve will not be fixed today as Mrs B has phoned them and postponed the visit until tomorrow as she has arranged for us to be out lunching with the anti windfarm brigade.

Anti windfarm brigade

I should point out here that the anti windfarm brigade were friends long before they became anti windfarmers. The truth of the matter is that they are not anti green, anti renewable energy, anti progress or anti save the planet. They are just anti "we're going to plant a forest of wind turbines at the bottom of your garden because it's in a beautiful and remote coastal area of Scotland that is not visible from anyone's office window in Glasgow or London so no one will notice the turbines except the small local community and you should be thrilled to bits to be making the sacrifice on behalf of the rest of the World and anyway tourists like looking at huge wind turbines so fuck you and your selfish whinging".

Vertigo

If I get tired or bored, both of which I seem to do very quickly these days, I tend to drop off. Drifting off isn't a problem until I get to the dropping off stage. At that point I get flashes of hanging on the end of a rope over the Grand Canyon, terrifying. I switch that one off only to find I'm about to parachute out of a plane or I'm flying off a parapet 30 floors up somewhere. It's got so bad recently that a picture on TV where the camera is looking down from a great height makes my stomach turn over. I had to leave the room when the shuttle was launching and pictures of the Earth appeared behind the shuttle. It's all totally irrational but highly disturbing.

The guys I drink with don't help matters. One flies helicopters and one's recently been up in a hot air balloon. They obviously want to talk about their experiences so by the time I get home, my imagination is working overtime with enough material for another couple of dropping off nightmares.

I'm not sure where this fear of heights came from because I spent most of my childhood up trees, lamp posts, ropes, scrawling about on the top of walls and shed roofs, laughing at my Father's total inability to cope with heights.

The weird thing is that I'm usually ok when I'm up in a plane or at the top of a high building. Raul was kind enough to take me up in a helicopter and I have to admit that I didn't enjoy it. I suppose I was expecting to be inside something a little more substantial and solid. He was kind enough to fit the doors into the sides before we took off but there was nowhere to look that didn't show the ground way down there. At least in a plane you can look at other people before you pluck up the courage to squint out of the window at cloud formations and the ground way down there. I think my main problem is an over active imagination. When that kicks in, logic flies out of the window if you'll pardon the expression.

Tomorrow I'm having lunch with a couple who are taking on the might of the wind power companies. I think I'll offer them the use of my hacksaw.

Another Day Another Plumber

Another plumber with a plunger turned up today. This one didn't tweak my pump he just turned off my water supply. This one is adamant that the dripping overflow problem is caused by a faulty ballcock valve. At least he's hoping that it is. He has turned off the water feed to the ballcock valve so that it cannot possibly drip into the central heating header tank.

He's coming back on Thursday to see if the water level in the tank has risen. If it has risen then that will be bad news because the water will have come from the expansion pipe and will prove that there is a problem in the hot water cylinder and that it needs replacing. I've inspected the ballcock on numerous occasions and I haven't seen any sign of a drip. I'm prepared for bad news. At least he didn't try to charge anything for coming out.

Volvo clickety click.

Volvo's battery is dead again. We climb into the car to make the trip to Mrs B's dentist and clickety click, clickety click the engine won't turn over. In the end we go in Mrs B's clapped out 20 year old VW Polo that looks like it once belonged to a successful car bomber. If only everything in life was as reliable as a VW. Volvo on the other hand, Swedish designed, American owned and Japanese built can't or won't hold its charge so I'll have to research the cost of a replacement battery.

Disclaimer

Milt Bogs wishes to make it known that he has no connection whatsoever with this spam email that turned up in the London area on Sunday.

Subject: Re: ....collecting from your web site..
From: Santos Boggs
Date: Sun, 14 August, 2005 1:22 am
charity-contact...

..we email your web site to 4,000,000+ opt-in email addresses for free.

Zorbot The Geek Stuff

Botzor.exe sounds like something that might best be treated with a soothing cream. Do not be fooled. The latest worm named Zotob.B buries itself in the Windows system folder as Botzor.exe. At the moment my bot is not zor at all so that's something.

Blog Gleaning

Stuff I always wanted to know." Wi-Fi replaces ethernet networking. Bluetooth replaces USB. I find this to be a very simple way to explain things." I'm sure that this is meant to be very helpful. Unfortunately it doesn't explain anything to me.

"Strange enough, I only knew it a few days later, and only after my mom told about me about it, which means I might not have known about it at all if I wasn't informed." Yes, I think I see your point.

To set up a home exercise area I need, "a pair of dumb-bells with adjustable weights, a yoga mat, a running machine, and a full body-length mirror." Presumably the full body-length mirror will come in useful if I want to check that my mascara hasn't run all down my perfectly sculpted pecs and stained my lycra running shorts. Woof! Excuse me while I jog to the bathroom.

And finally back to technical stuff." If your wireless network is locked and alarmed, the 14-year-old computer snooper down the block is going to move on to somebody else... since so many wireless networks have the keys in the ignition." Keys in the ignition! Sounds like a hot computer to me. Must be one of those Macs with a straight through silencer and mag wheels that Merl's always talking about.

Anyone seen my wife?

A Macedonian man left his wife at an Italian service station in the coastal resort of Pesaro and only realized he had driven off without her six hours later, news agency Reuters said. Hell that happens all the time in Bogsville. The guy nearly made it too. He was 210 miles north of Pesaro in Milan, on his way home to Germany, when police caught up with him.

Michael Brecker seriously ill.

Photo from vervemusicgroup.com.

Jazz saxophonist Michael Brecker is seriously ill with and currently undergoing treatment for MDS. His management have announced that all his concerts have either been cancelled or postponed for the present time. For further information and details of how you might be able to help Michael Brecker go to http://www.michaelbrecker.com

A letter from Michael Brecker's wife.

I'll Just Give Your Pump A Tweak.

The central heating guy turned up late last week to cure our dripping overflow. He said he'd start by servicing the boiler to make sure that there was nothing wrong there.

"Well that was money for old rope. There's nothing wrong with the system," he announced. "I'll just tweak your pump a bit."

He reduced the speed of the pump and said he reckoned that the pump was turning too fast and causing the hot water to find the easiest way round the system, in this case up the expansion pipe and into the header tank and then out of the overflow pipe.

Nice job old son. You'll be pleased to know that the overflow is running again today so you'll have to tweak something else. I hope that next time they send someone who knows what he's tweaking.

The next visit is tomorrow morning. The plumber with the plunger comes from Green's Home Repair in the Phoenix East Valley area who had nothing to do with the installation or repair. If you live in the Phoenix East Valley area and you need a plumber with a plunger, a click on the graphic will take you to their site. Unfortunately I live in Bogsville.

Meanwhile

I wasn't particularly surprised to hear that Victoria Beckham has never read a book but she does like to look at magazines every now and then. I am just amazed that anyone cares whether she can read at all. I wonder if she needs a plumber with a plunger.

If You're White It's Still Alright - Apparently

Abducted By Aliens?

80-year-old Klansman Edgar Ray Killen who was convicted of orchestrating the killings of James Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner, three civil rights workers in 1964 left the Neshoba County Courthouse a free man last Friday after his chums posted a $600,000 bond.

He complained about the lack of medical care given to him at the Central Mississippi Correctional Facility in Rankin County. "They checked me through the line like a cattle auction," he said. "I'm very unhappy with the treatment I've received."

Killen whined to the judge, who had earlier sentenced him to 60 years in prison, that he is in constant pain and the cot he slept on had injured the pins in his leg. "I can barely sleep," he whined. "I still don't understand how I could lie in severe pain for 24 hours, and no one even bring me an aspirin. I'm not a drug addict."

I would have strung the old bastard up from the nearest tree. But that's because I'm not a member of the Mississippi White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan in Petal. Perhaps the aliens with white bags on their heads will do it for me.

There's Nothing Cool About Tinnitus

Because of my rock band induced tinnitus, thanks for that Supertramp, I can't hear the telephone ring unless I'm standing right next to it. Unless, that is, I'm operating the bloody Dyson. If the Dyson is sucking all the tufts out of the carpets I can hear the telephone ringing all the time. Switch on the Dyson, the phone rings. Switch off the Dyson to answer the phone, it isn't ringing and no calls have been logged. Switch on the Dyson and the phone starts ringing again only it isn't ringing. The ringing is just inside my head. I suppose it's something to do with my tinnitus and the frequencies generated by the Dyson's cyclone or whatever they call their dust sucker system.

Collapsed Lungs

I now read that exposure to very loud bass frequencies can lead to collapsed lungs. This doesn't surprise me in the slightest because the night my hearing was damaged I experienced excruciating pain in my chest and my collar bone felt like it was going to snap every time the drummer's foot pedal hit the bass drum. I had difficulty breathing and was gasping for air.

I remember looking up at the ceiling to see if cracks were appearing. I really couldn't see how the building could survive the acoustic battering it was taking. No one else had any problems or experienced the same symptoms. They thought that I was just making it all up.

When we got outside onto the street I couldn't hear and even though I'd had nothing to drink, couldn't walk straight. My sense of balance had gone.

My hearing came back over the next few days but there was a permanent hissing sound that masked out all the interesting frequencies there as well and it's been there every day for just about the last 25 years.

I suppose that I was lucky because as soon as the music stopped, the pain in my chest stopped too. I don't want to sound like a killjoy but these kids who go clubbing night after night, plug themselves into iPods all day and drive around in their cars with the boom boxes hammering away are storing up years of misery for themselves somewhere down the line. I assure you that there's nothing even remotely cool about tinnitus.

Plenty Of Room

"Plenty of room here for a little one Milt. Come and join us."

"Sorry ladies I'm kind of stuck for the moment but you're more than welcome to drop into the Tulip & Tiara any time you are in Bogsville."

To find out more about these alluring ladies from San Diego just click on the picture.

Knife in the back

Anyone know how to wash your face without leaning over the wash basin? I bend over the basin and BING! I need trigger point myotherapy.

32 Million People Read Blogs

There are 8 million bloggers out there and 32 million people who read blogs. That means 31,999,980 people have failed to spot this one. It makes me feel amoebaesque.

Tulip time

There were very few people of note in the Tulip & Tiara last night. I know it was Wednesday but even so I expected more from my local. The night's discussion ranged from Raul's country retreat to whether Merl's supper would be microwaved by the time he got back home. I was more interested in whether I would actually get back home. I guess it's an age thing.

Tulip & Tiara space invaders

Have you noticed how people avoid empty space at a bar? The Tulip's bar must be about 60 feet long. Three of us were standing at the extreme right hand end and there were a few people at the extreme left hand end. That left approximately 40 feet of empty space in the middle of the bar. Two guys came in and started off ten feet to our left. Gradually they backed up closer until they were right up against us. Perhaps it was the sparkling repartee that attracted them but I suspect they drive the truck that's always stuck up your exhaust pipe on the way home from work.

Tweakling & Fiddleranging

Usually when the most senior young Bogs comes to stay, my computer gets fiddled with, tweaked and rearranged. This time he has rearranged Mrs B's laptop. As a result of aforesaid tweakling and fiddlranging I now have an amazing little brown icon that shows up next to the page URL when Milt's Page is active. The miracle is that the page still validates. I also know how to access one of my three chunks of FTP space and can now store gifs and many other wonderful things.

Unfortunately all of these wondrous things take up an inordinate amount of time. End result nothing startling or even bog standard mundane to record here except that old Bogs has introduced young Bogs to the joys of having a page that validates. If you are looking at this page in Firefox all is well. If you are looking at it with IE6 then the words "Milt's Page" are a shambles because the graphic is saved as a png file, incompatible with IE6. Tomorrow it will have to be resaved as a gif and then it should work in either browser. And just when I thought I'd got it sorted too...

Worth a read. If you can make it out.

Blogquote of the day

"Lately whenever I’m in deep thought I just stay in deep thought – confused, and just sometimes… sit here."

Banish Baldness Treatment

Dog passed his latest medical checkup with flying colors. Dogdoc said Dog's heart and what's left of his lungs, are fine. He gave Dog some pills for his arthritis and some pills for skin conditioning and suggested that Mrs B. should exfoliate. I agreed with him. I've been thinking that she should exfoliate for some time now but I'm far too polite to mention it to her. She wasn't upset at all and just came home and used her exfoliating creams on dog's bald patch.

It's difficult to tell whether it's the Dogdoc pills or Mrs B's exfoliating or the (not tested on animals) baby oil that has done the trick, but Dog's baldness has started to sprout hair. The patch is shrinking. No more strange looks when we go walking.

Yes readers, a miracle cure for baldness has been discovered right here in Bogsville. Anyone interested in trying out the enormously expensive full treatment should contact the Bogsville Banish Baldness Scalp Studio by leaving a few words in the comment box.

Blogquote of the day.

"I realized I needed people around me that created a better balance, because before everything was… hmm…. tilted."

A Guide To Blending

Joe was a great blender. In fact he was the best damn blender I ever saw. At the back of the dairy yard were three huge, white-painted, boilers for sterilizing the crates of bottled milk. The crates of full milk bottles were stacked inside the boilers and the sterilizers were switched on. The milk was heated up to the required temperature and eventually taken out and stacked on the vans by the roundsmen for their next deliveries. While the ovens were switched on a lot of steam was created.

The wall at the back of the sterilizers was painted white and all the guys in the yard wore white overalls and white rubber boots.

I was hauling crates of empty bottles onto a conveyor one afternoon when I spotted Joe heading towards the sterilizers carrying an empty crate. He waved as he went past. He walked between the sterilizers into the steam, placed the crate against the back wall, climbed up on it, leaned back against the wall, put his hands in his white overall pockets, closed his eyes and just disappeared.

Two thirds of the way up the wall was a dark ventilation grill. When Joe stood on the crate, his face was on a level with it. He used to stand back there in the steam, leaning against that white wall for hours. He was the best damn blender I ever saw.

The dairy is no longer there, they replaced it with a drive-in McDonald's. If Joe's still blending somewhere, I guarantee that you won't spot him.

Hamburger Stand

Well she got her daddy’s car
And she cruised through the hamburger stand now
Seems she forgot all about the library
Like she told her old man now
And with the radio blasting
Goes cruising just as fast as she can now

And she’ll have fun fun fun
’til her daddy takes the t-bird away
(fun fun fun ’til her daddy takes the t-bird away)

Dairy Work And Jamaican Joe

Worked in a dairy for a while. The section I worked in contained six long conveyor belts. Flatbed trailers stacked head high with crates of empty milk bottles were reversed each side of the conveyors and our job was to unload the crates onto them. As soon as you emptied one flatbed, you jumped across to the full flatbed on the other side of the belt and another trailer full of crates would appear in place of the empty one. It just went on and on and on, all day and all night.

You didn't need hands with fingers, you needed hooks, and hooks were what you'd got at the end of the day. You couldn't hold a cup, mug or a glass, you just sat there with your hooks resting on your thighs and hoped that someone would feed you.

There was a Jamaican guy in the yard who spent all day sweeping. I suspected he was given the sweeping jobs because the boss was racist so I asked him if he got fed up spending all day with a broom.

"I used to work on the railway," he said."All day long it was ‘Get that broom Joe and go sweep that platform’. In the end I got sick of it and came here."

"But you're still sweeping now," I pointed out.

"When I first got here they said, ‘Get that broom Joe, go and sweep the yard.’ I told them, I ain't sweeping no yard. I want to work up there on the belts like the other guys. I did it for just one day. Next day when I got in, I asked if they wanted me to sweep the yard and I've been sweepin' it ever since."

Then he grinned at me and said,"Man, I might be black but I ain't fucking stupid."

Bogs Quads

I have been severely censured by Mrs B for posting a picture of just one of the little Boglets. Herewith is the only known photograph of the Bogsquadlets. I sincerely hope that this rectifies matters.

Graphic Design

I was mortified to learn that my page background was coming up baby poop brown rather than the intended wrinkly parchment and was therefore difficult to read. Will the Bogs template ever recover?

Anyone Seen Charlie?

Do they know the meaning of the word neighbor in the UK?

Last April I posted a story about a man whose skeleton was found in his apartment after the poor sod had been lying there dead and unnoticed for six years. I made a comment then about the apparent shortage of community spirit in UK towns.

Even as I was writing the story, it was happening again. A guy in Wolverhampton UK, was lying dead in his home and by last April had already been lying there, unnoticed, for four months. This guy's caring neighbors didn't get concerned until about a week ago, seven months after he died. The week before last the police broke his door down and found his decomposing body and estimated that he had been dead since the end of last December.

Seven months before neighbors register their concerns is a considerable improvement on the six years it took the caring folk of Walsall to raise the alarm but it still doesn't sound like old fashioned neighborliness to me.

The whole thing just sickens me. How long would it take you to notice that one of your neighbors wasn't around?

Pete Sang & Ringo Played The Drums

Prophylactic Pete was a fun guy. I say was because he's dead now, on account of his excesses. He'd just completely slipped my mind until I spotted the condom machine in the washroom at the Tulip & Tiara bar.

Not many people know this but Pete sang with a band that had Ringo Starr on drums. Pete's favorite song was Buddy Holly's You're so Square. To be honest that's the only song I ever remember him singing. The girl who sang Blueberry Hill won the competition and ended up in bed with Ringo so it's probably just as well that Pete didn't win.

Just don't ask how I know that Blueberry Hill ended up in bed with Ringo.

Floor Routine

Inspirational floor routine for all you people who like to work out to keep fit.

Pete's Prophylactic

Bogsville stud Pete started his gallivanting back in the days when the Beatles were in short pants and Elvis was King Creole. Getting hold of condoms was a trifle tricky then because you had to go to a shop that sold surgical goods. Hidden away somewhere among the clutter of artificial legs, rupture trusses, elasticated stockings and bedpans would be a box of durex packs. Pete was on a promise with the Bogsville bike, Lulu Pantsdown but only if he could prove to her that he had a condom.

Pete asked me to give him moral support one Wednesday afternoon. We stood outside "Le Brasseur" the surgical goods shop, looking in the window. Eventually he said, "Sod it. I'm going in. Come on."

I followed him in and we stood there while the thin faced, elderly shop assistant gave us the once over. "Yes gentlemen? And how may I help you?"
"I'd like a condom please," the would be stud announced proudly.
"A condom," said the guy behind the counter."Certainly sir. Would you like it gift wrapped or are you going to wear it?"

Interstate Spitting And Airport Security

I'm not a great fan of spitting at any time but if you really have to spit while you're driving along an interstate I think it's best to buy a box of Kleenex tissues and keep them in the car. Ask Robbin Doolin, 31, from Grandview who fell out of her car on a Kansas City interstate after she opened her door to spit.

"I leaned out to spit and I leaned too far," she later told police.

Another motorist looking in her rearview mirror saw Doolin's car hit a guardrail and saw Doolin tumble across the pavement, then jump up and chase after the car as it ran down an embankment towards a building site.

An ambulance took her to a hospital, where she was treated for injuries to her leg, arm and head. Hope they gave her something to reduce the phlegm too.

Bogsville leads security in UK airport.

I just bumped into Nick, a guy who drank in, was banned from and then worked in the Hole in the Ground bar in the days when it was a bar that was worth drinking in and getting banned from.

He moved away from Bogsville about eight years ago after he almost severed a finger in a Hole in the Ground kitchen accident. Apparently he has ended up in Brighton UK. I asked him if he was still in bar work. He told me he was baggage inspecting at Gatwick Airport. Now that is a pretty responsible sort of a job, what with the terrorist threat and all. Nothing personal Nick but I hope your baggage inspecting is less hit and miss than your beer pulling and cooking was when you worked in the Hole in the Ground.

He also told me that Gatwick Airport is busier than the Hole in the Ground bar. He doesn't miss much that guy. Fear not intrepid travelers your security is in safe hands there.

Mobile Phone Hitch

A couple in India got married via mobile phone after severe flooding in Gujarat state prevented Ashifkhan Jahurkhan, 25, from reaching the bride's house in Bombay.

"We made the best use of technology. It was impossible for me and my family to reach Bombay as roads are flooded with water," said the groom who is still to meet his bride after the wedding.

Witnesses on both sides kept their phones on speaker mode to ensure all relatives heard the bride and groom's words during the 30-minute ceremony.

Long distance wedding ceremonies sound like a highly civilized arrangement to me. I doubt whether long distance phone sex, with or without the phones being on speaker mode, constitutes a legally consummated marriage but it's unlikely to increase the birth rate, unless you are short distance bonking someone else at the same time.

Antarctica diary entry.

Dr. Barth Netterfield, a cosmologist with the Long Duration Balloon Boomerang project gave last night's lecture on the universe, the beginning of time, where we are headed, and things everyone wishes they knew but don't.

"Our universe," he said, "went from a singularity (which we don't understand) to a beginning (which our physics won't explain) to plasma, hot and dense. It is composed now of normal matter (about 5%), dark matter/particles (about 35%), and something they are calling dark energy because they don't know what it is (65%)."
Antarctica Journal.

Sounds like I need to invite Dr. Barth Netterfield to Bogsville to clarify one or two points.

Myriapods

While we're on the subject of vitally important stuff, did you know that a millipede does not really have 1,000 legs? Handy hint, to find the number of legs on your millipede, count the body segments, multiply by 4, and subtract 10 or just about any other number you can remember after driving yourself mad counting its body segments. Millipedes can apparently only have up to 710 or 850 legs and believe it or not a centipede may have anywhere between 28 and 354 legs or some other very large number. I can assure you that all Bogsville centipedes have exactly 100 legs just as all our unicorns and motor cars only have one horn.

PS

The long distance phone sex link is harmless. Thanks for that Merl.