National Savings Certificate

Track of the day Phoenix (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.

Today I am mostly feeling cheated. We've found a 57 year old £1 National Savings certificate that I got when I first started school. With the 57 years of added interest it should be worth at least £3. Some investment that was. I phoned up to find out how much it was worth and the lady said it wasn't even registered on her computer, at least I think that's what she said, she did have a very strong Scottish accent. It took months to get that certificate. I took money to school every Monday morning for weeks to buy National Savings stamps to get that damn certificate. The stamps were exchanged for the certificate when you had enough stamps stuck in your savings book. I liked the stamps, they had a red squirrel on them.

It'll now cost me more to send a letter to some obscure office or other asking for it to be valued than the certificate is actually worth. I'm going to do it anyway. As the guy doing the football commentary said, " You don't win the lottery unless you buy a ticket". Here in Bogsville we have a similar saying, "You don't win the lottery even when you buy a ticket".

As if that wasn't exciting enough I find that I have a Trustee Savings Bank account that has had 60p in it since 1973. If I don't go and reactivate the account or close it permanently, Blair and his Treasury are going to snaffle my savings, all 60p of them.


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Supersized Rats

Track of the day Phoenix (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.

There are supersized rats in the UK. I'm unreliably informed that I'm never further that twenty feet from a rat round here. Well I've searched all around Bogsville Heights, inside and out and have been unable to find even a scrawny ratlet, let alone a super sized rodent. They must have a lot next door.

The rats are apparently thriving on dropped take-away offerings. Seems that a regular diet of Big Macs, KFC Chicken Nuggets, cod and chips etc doesn't just supersize humans it supersizes rats too.

The Keep Britain Tidy group is now running an advert that stars long tailed furry rodents to inform the public about the dangers of dropping food waste in the streets. Just in case you are thinking of visiting the UK, I have posted a link to their cute rat video here. Typical! Right now the video doesn't seem to be playing in Firefox but it's working fine in Internet Explorer.

Come on Sir Cliff I'm only looking for a two week break in Barbados.


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Well Dunged

Track of the day Phoenix (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.

Today my inbox contained a mail from Martha McElroy inexplicably entitled "Better Success, well dunged". It found its way to the recycle bin. I simply didn't have time to read it because I had to record the early morning outside temperature (15.7C) and find something for breakfast. I found coffee and parecetemol. Yes I had spent the evening saving money in a local bar and as a result I didn't sleep well.

This afternoon I went to meet Mrs B's returning train. It was 11 minutes late at Carlisle but only 4 minutes late at Crewe. By the time it got to Bogsville it was well over thirty minutes late and my parking space, designated as "for setting down and picking up passengers only" was under threat from the transport police and dubious types asking for small change or cigarettes. I locked the doors and slumped down behind the wheel in an attempt to look too ill to be asked to move on. No one noticed. They never do.

When I was six I limped all the way home from school, pretending that I had a wooden leg. No one noticed. A couple of months later I walked home with one arm tucked behind my back and an empty sleeve flapping at my side. Thinking back on it now I was lucky not to have been locked away somewhere.

After the train finally arrived and I had driven home with Mrs B, she went into the greenhouse to inspect her pansies and announced that the maximum minimum thermometer was stuck on its maximum, 50C. I took it apart and fixed it. I'm not sure how I fixed it but it was something to do with a spring.

While I was fixing it, Mrs B related salutary tales of drunken behaviour at weddings up north and I mused over Keith Richards of Rolling Stones fame smoking on stage in smokeless Glasgow. Tomorrow I'll pretend to be a Rolling Stone and light up in a no smoking area. I'd like to think that no one would notice but knowing my luck they'd probably lock me away somewhere where I'd be "well dunged".


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Whatever Turns You On

Track of the day Phoenix (exerpt) - Nerve Engine.

This year the annual pyrotechnical bombardment of Bogsville started on the 26th August. If last year is anything to go by it will continue throughout September, October and November and reach its climax at Christmas or the New Year. If it carries on like this I'll have to dig up the dogs and bring them inside.

Mrs B is in the frozen north attending a wedding. I can only assume that she's up there researching how it should be done. On Monday she rolls back into Bogsville for a few days before jetting back up there a week on Friday for an all girls class reunion. Now that's the kind of class reunion that appeals to me but I haven't been invited.

Last night I watched a guy pay a thousand pounds for a camera and lens on eBay. The price was £400 when I started watching and I was interested in taking part until the bids reached £800. The 'winner' could have got a brand new, retail version of the same camera and lens combination for an extra £77. I think I'd have to be saving 20% before I spent that much but you never know, you sort of get carried away with the 'I've got to win at all costs' thingy. It would probably save me a great deal of money if I spent the night in a bar.

The truth is out. Cliff Richard offered Blair a Summer break at his pad in Barbados because he looked "dwindled and haggard" during the war in Iraq. As far as I'm concerned anyone who gives the go ahead for death and destruction deserves to look exceedingly tired and haggard. I've never started a war and I look tired and haggard Cliff, how about offering me a holiday?

According to Cliff the dynamic duo enjoy the occasional game of tennis,

"We don't play games, we just hit balls. He's very good. He has the most ferocious forehand and a good serve."

Whatever turns you on I suppose.


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Weddings And Funerals

Track of the day Phoenix (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.

A couple of days ago she with ants in her pants flew back into Bogsville and today she caught a train out again. She emailed me a link to a page of special offer flights to exotic places. I spent a couple of hours wondering if I should go and look up Mozart in Salzburg or Hitler in Berchtesgarten but found a page about a dog that needs a home.

Sadly I ended up doing nothing about anything. Eventually I wandered into the garden to cut the hedge but discovered it was raining. It's a hard life.

Mrs B has gone to a wedding. I seem to specialise in funerals.

I read that the Chinese have discovered a cunning way of increasing the number of mourners at a guy's funeral. They hire strippers to perform at the funeral and people appear from everywhere. The performance is accompanied by graphic descriptions of the dead guy's potency. It's a killer isn't it? Reuters link.

Taiwanese lottery winners apparently employ strippers to thank the gods for their good fortune. Strippers in church, what a great idea, guaranteed to increase the size of the congregation, well, the male members in the congregation anyway.


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Did I Just Meet Trevor Eve?

Track of the day Phoenix (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.

As a paparazzi photographer I am a total disaster. I never recognise anyone I meet until well after the event. I don't expect to bump into anyone who is well known so I don't, even when I do, if you know what I mean.

It suddenly occurred to me today that I'd seen this face before somewhere.

Is this Trevor Eve? Can anyone help me out?


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Airport Security

Track of the day Phoenix (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.



Mrs B. flies back into Bogsville tonight. I'm sure she'll be impressed by the airport security measures just introduced by our ex Firechief Tug Onan who was run out of Boobchester County a few years ago for some reason and is now head of security at Bogsville Air.

"We have nothing to hide here in Bogsville. I've even sold the idea to RyanAir," Tug told me last night in the Pig and Plonker bar. I've got news for Tug. I'll be taking the train from now on.


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Eateth Not The Bread Of Idleness

Track of the day Phoenix (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.



I popped into the local churchyard to see a few old friends this morning and spotted this tribute to a lady named Mary Ann.

Dearly beloved wife of Henry Cramme
Who died March 10th 1914. Aged 69 years.
She looketh well into the ways of her household
And eateth not the bread of idleness.

I hope she's enjoying her rest now. What struck me was that there was no other mention of Henry Cramme. He certainly hadn't been buried alongside the hard working Mary Ann. I wonder why. Maybe he's still loafing around somewhere.

Text message from up north.

Have been to audiology dept. Seems better they have trimmed it down. Also been to the Winter Gardens and used a wheelchair.

This is what happens when you allow your wife to fly north with British Airways. First she is suspected of being a terrorist because she has a tube of lip salve in her handbag, then she has to visit an audiologist to get something trimmed down and ends up in a wheelchair. She seemed fine the last time I saw her.

I'm off to make a loaf of idleness.


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Flight Disrupted

Track of the day Phoenix Rising (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.

It's strange not having a dog around the place. I wander around trying to find one that needs a home. This one spotted me the other day. At first I thought it was a pony. Hate to think how much goes in one end or comes out at the other. I think you would have to follow it round with a bucket rather than a plastic bag.

Mrs B's flight was disrupted when she was caught trying to smuggle lip salve into the cabin. She was lucky they didn't shoot her on the spot.


I get back to the UK and what do I find? Blair is still in the Caribbean despite the apparent terrorist threat and the Pakistani cricket team choose not to retake the field because they have been accused of ball tampering.

When a test match is ended because a national team refuses to take the field after a tea interval there must be something terribly wrong with the World.

Whether you agree with umpires Darrell Hair and Billy Doctrove's decision to give a 5 run penalty to England or not you have to abide by it. By all means make your protest at the appropriate time but don't forfeit the game by refusing to "retake the field".

The England batsmen were on the pitch with the umpires after the tea interval, the Pakistani team, for whatever reason, stayed in the dressing room. The umpires removed the bails, the match was over. Whoever advised Inzamam during the tea interval, gave him the wrong advice. Pakistan, at that point, were still odds on to win the match and a win would have been the best way to resolve the issue. Rules are rules folks.


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August Is A Wicked Month

Track of the day Phoenix Rising (excerpt) - Nerve Engine.

August Is A Wicked Month was the title of Edna O'Brien's fourth book.

This young lady, standing on a Barcelona corner with a brolly brought the title back into my head - I can't imagine why.

The book is now out of print. Most of the books on my shelves seem to be out of print. I can live with that.







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Thumbless In Barcelona

Track of the day Rationale - Nerve Engine.

If you are going to take part in a human tower bonding exercise in Barcelona it's best to bond at the top of the tower, unless you are wearing three pairs of very strong underpants or you can find a guy with no thumbs to hold you up.

She with ants in her pants has now boarded another plane and flown off up North so it's quiet as hell round here for a change.



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I'm Beginning To Get Tense

Track of the day Summertime - Joshua Redman.

I'm beginning to get tense at the thought of flying back to Bogsville.

A leisurely evening stroll to Barcelona's waterfront ended in total disaster. The heavens opened and left us trapped by rising floodwater in a harbourside bar. The owner, stripped to the waist for action, insisted on us staying even though he was closed. I kept wishing that he would put his vest back on.

After an hour, the rain stopped so we made our excuses and ran for the bus-stop. Standing there in the dark Mrs B was attacked by a large cockroach that climbed onto her besandled left foot to escape the rising waters. What a fuss she made about that! In the confusion I stood on the unfortunate roach even though I couldn't see it and the flattened roach is now a permanent feature of the Barcelona waterfront.

Thanks to the topless bar owner we had missed the last bus so the cockroach's death was an unfortunate mistake. I expect it will be reincarnated as something more attractive. I hope so because I'd hate to think it held a grudge.


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Tomorrow I Will Make My Fortune

Track of the day Once - Nerve Engine.

Still no picture. I still don´t have access to the software, which is a pity because I´ve now got video too.

My visit to Picasso who used to live just round the corner came to nothing because it seems that he also died years ago which is just as well because Mrs B decided we would visit somewhere else.... I hear that Dali´s dead too, so that solves a problem for tomorrow.

One of the biggest problems here is finding somewhere to eat. You would think that somewhere the size of Barcelona would have any number of suitable places. This is not the case. The combination of walking too far and not eating has reduced us to mere skeletons. Tomorrow I will sit on the pavement with a begging bowl and make my fortune.


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Why Do People Do That?

Track of the day Once - Nerve Engine.

No picture today. I don´t have access to the software, which is a pity because I´ve got a camera full of wonderful snaps.

We wandered off to visit Gaudi but found that he´d died. Unfortunately his ideas about open plan house building and light wells never caught on in Bogsville. I made friends with two of Gaudi´s chimneys that reminded me of some of the patrons of the Hole in the Ground bar and fell out with a thousand people who want to have their photographs taken standing next to things I want to photograph. Why do people do that?

"Here´s a snap of Prunella in front of a statue and here´s one of George in front of the same statue. Here´s Prunella looking stupid in front of a fountain and the next one´s me again in front of the same fountain.
Which fountain is it?
I don´t know but I think it´s in Barcelona. Prunella might know its name but then again she probably won´t."

Tomorrow we may go and visit Picasso who used to stay just round the corner. I´ve been meaning to look him up for fifty years now.


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Religious Shrines & Shorts

Track of the day Take the 'A' Train - Duke Ellington.

Took to the streets of Barcelona today. The promised rain failed to materialise and I felt the need to bare my knees tourist style. No one was impressed.

We´ve hurtled on the underground and hurtled on the overground, visited the religious shrines and bought relics to post home. My mobile phone is locked in the room safe and I don´t know the combination.

The text messages that Mrs B sent last Thursday were delivered today. I expect that´s because of the anti terrorist measures in UK. Perhaps we´ll be marooned here in Spain. One lives in hope.

I note that they´ve fixed the computer that screwed up after I tried to clear the cache yesterday. The problem is that the keys are all in the wrong place. Well they´re not all in the wrong place but I can´t find the ones that I use most often.


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Flight Cancelled

Track of the day Take the 'A' Train - Duke Ellington.

Typical! I book a holiday for the first bloody time in three years and the British Government announce a major security alert.

We flew out to Barcelona on Thursday afternoon. No hand luggage, no drinks, no mobile phones, electronic keyfobs, iPods etc. Everything was supposed to be in the hold but there were some passengers carrying bottles and magazines with them onto our flight.
One of the advantages of flying from a garden shed sized airport is that disruption is minimal.

Now that he's 'sorted' the Middle East crisis, Blair is not allowing the current terrorist alert to interrupt his Caribbean holiday. Why should he? He´s got half of Scotland looking after the security of England. Enjoy the break Tony McBlair.

This may be Barcelona but it is now raining. It´s hot and wet, much like the majority of women here.


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Something Female

Track of the day Three Steps To Heaven - Eddie Cochran.

It's all very quiet here in Bogsville. I'm not sure why it should seem so quiet because Dog was deaf and just about blind, never barked, had to be carried up and down steps and certainly didn't run about.

Nevertheless it seems very quiet around the house without him.

Three years ago we had two dogs but Dog one got sick and that meant we couldn't get away. He died and then Dog two decided to get old and infirm so one of us has had to be around to look after him for the best part of the last two years.

They were both rescue dogs that had ended up unwanted so it seemed only fair to spend as much time as possible with them. The trouble is that for the last seven or eight years they spent just about every minute of every day with me and now that I am dogless I'm really not sure how well I'll cope.

After I retired Mrs B suggested it would be good to get a dog so I ended up with two. She now says we don't need another dog. I'm not so sure.

Anyway we've decided to get away for a few days. Chances are I'll spot a stray on the streets somewhere. I'm a sucker when it comes to strays. Something female this time, about 5' 4" and twenty something would be nice.
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May, July & August Now Cancelled

Track of the day Voice In The Widerness - Cliff Richard.

Tony Blair's National Health Service let me down again. My May appointment at Bogsville's eye hospital was cancelled and rearranged for July. July's appointment was cancelled at the last minute and rearranged for August 7th.

Yesterday I got a letter telling me that I had a progress examination scheduled for early September.

That's cool, I thought.

With hindsight, it seemed a bit excessive so I phoned to point out that I now had two appointments within a three week period. Best to report the fact so that someone else could be offered one of my appointments.

It took three hours to get through on the phone. It seems that there is only one line going into the eye hospital and only one secretary to answer the calls.

She said,
"The new appointment is to replace the August appointment Mr Bogs. August has been cancelled."
I pointed out that my last two appointments had also been cancelled at the last minute.
"I know Mr Bogs. You've now had three cancelled appointments. If we don't have enough medical staff the rules state that we can cancel up to three appointments. As you have now had three cancellations, I can assure you that you won't get a further cancellation this year."

May was cancelled, July was cancelled and now August has been cancelled, all at the last minute. Just as well I wasn't planning on going anywhere this year. Not that anyone in the NHS cares.

P.S Enjoy your holiday Mr Blair. Sorry to hear you had to give up a couple of days to "sort out" the Middle East. Why not holiday in Beirut or Baghdad? There used to be good hotels in both those cities.

Cliff Richard

I thought I'd post a track to remind Islander of the Milano coffee bar and Janice and one of Cliff's minor hits. I expect Tone knows all the words. He's just full of that lurv for all mankind stuff.


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A Bad Day

Track of the day Round Midnight - Anthony Braxton.

It's been a bad day in Bogsville. We had to call the vet in and ask him to put an end to poor old Dog's suffering.

It wasn't easy.

Blair In The Caribbean

Track of the day Summertime - Joshua Redman.

Yes he's off on holiday. He's off for a freebie courtesy of Sir Cliff Richard, the singer who never quite made it in the US charts.

It's good to know that while people are being slaughtered, Tony Blair is on a freebie in the Caribbean. Hope you sleep well old fruit!

Sorry folks but it just makes me feel sick.


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