Oldbury's Savacentre Hosts Macmillan Coffee Morning

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

The World's Biggest Coffee Morning was taking place yesterday.
The annual event is in its 16th year now and raises funds for Macmillan Cancer Support.
Last year the coffee morning raised 6 million pounds and has become an important event on the UK charity calendar.
I hadn't planned on going shopping but it was bucketing down with rain when I got to Oldbury so I went into Sainsbury's SavaCentre to buy a cheap umbrella.
I was just about to leave when three very attractive and friendly ladies spotted the camera and demanded that I took a photograph of them.
"I bet there isn't even a film in it," said one.
"You'd better not stick it on the web," said another, while the third was worrying about a double chin.
I assured Mel and Fay that there was a 'film' in the camera, that a picture would appear on 'the web' and reassured Haley that as far as I could see, she didn't have a double chin.
So here with love from Milt, for Macmillan's Mel Bradley and Fay Woodhouse and Sainsbury's Haley is a link to the photograph that you requested.
What are you all doing on Monday?
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Thames Birthday Boat Load

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

Happy birthday J. If anyone spots a boat load of drunks on the Thames late on Friday night it'll be elder Bogs and his cronies. The elder Bogs will be the one with the yellow hair and the camera.

Meanwhile back here in Bogsville another contact lens has disappeared round the back of my right eye.
I can't find it and I certainly can't see it but I can most definitely feel the little bogger. The damn thing folds over on itself and sticks to the underside of the lid. When I blink I can feel it scraping on my eyeball like a bit of grit or an eyelash. It's been there since nine o'clock last night and I'm sick of it.
I've squirted gallons of fluid in there to try to wash it out and tried to turn the eyelid inside out, all to no avail.
All sensible suggestions most gratefully accepted.
Tomorrow I have to post a picture of three ladies who spotted my camera and insisted on being photographed.

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Multiple Orgasms

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

I'm glad I don't live next door to the orgasmic lady I listened to on radio this morning. I doubt whether I'd ever get to sleep.
Luckily I'd already finished painting when I listened to her story about multiple orgasms after 20 years of marriage or I might well have fallen off the ladder.
What amused me most was the interviewer's reaction to the caller's story.
If you listen carefully to her news headline about organ transplants in China, you will notice that the caller's claim of two or three orgasms a session was still fixed firmly in her mind.
Mine too.

This is not my attempt at cornering the baby blog market, it's a photograph I dug up the other day and I thought I'd use it as a Miltcard.
Happy Birthday younger Bogs.

Guaranteed two or three orgasms every time! Hell's bells! If that multi-orgasmic lady's husband would care to email me his tips on sexual technique I'll make sure that they are passed on to the members of the Bogsville Underachievers' Club immediately.
Which reminds me I've got to find another way to burn off energy now that the outdoor painting season has ended.

Camp Fries

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

I spotted Camp Fries hanging behind the Hello Sailor bar.
"How appropriate," I said to myself, "I'll buy a pack to take home to show Mrs B."
When I got them home I was shocked to find that it was just a carelessly sealed pack of common or garden Scampi Fries.
I've had problems seeing clearly today as well. I was on the point of phoning the optician when I realised my specs were covered in flecks of cream paint.
Never mind, only three sills to be gloss painted now and I can go back to my life of total idleness.
Over the last three weeks I've mastered the art of climbing ladders, climbed out of the bedroom window to paint from the pointy bit of a roof, made friends with the postman and saved loads of money to spend on sensible things like beer, cigarettes and Camp Fries.

Tomorrow is Bogs Minor's 25th birthday and on Friday Bogs Major is 30. September 28 and 29. Sounds like London to Brighton vintage car run syndrome to me - you only make it to the end without terminal mechanical problems, once every five years.
Happy Birthday guys!

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Live Gig Shots

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

After the week-end's excesses it's back to the ups and downs of painting the house.
The front's finished so I've been scraping and sanding away at the back. If the rain holds off I'll get it finished by Wednesday. If it doesn't then I'll have to find something else to do.
Maybe there's a band out there that needs some live gig shots.
Now it seems I've run out of space on Flickr and they want paying. I guess that makes two of us.

Intelligence garbage

So the intelligence services have worked out that the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq have increased not decreased the terrorist threat. Seems to me that you don't need much intelligence to work that one out. Most of us mere mortals worked it out years ago.
My talents are totally wasted running up and down ladders with a paint brush, you don't need much intelligence for that either.

Rock bands lighting

The Little Civic had a barely functional lighting display.
Established popstars have the money to demand this and this again. So while one Bogger gigs with a band that says a lighting engineer would make a difference, t'other Bogger is lighting George Michael in Barcelona.
C'est la vie!
Long live Rock 'n' Roll.

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Nerve Engine Crash Pad

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



The Nerve Engine band bus rolled up at Bogsville Heights yesterday in search of a crash pad. The bank note snatching lady from the Pig & Plonker would have been well impressed but she wasn't invited.
We went along to the gig and yes, these bands do play very loud. Mrs B stuffed my rock band earplugs into her ears and I relied on the sound cancelling earphones plugged into the portable DAT recorder. I would hear the gig later in glorious digital stereo. Eventually I unplugged the phones from the machine, left it in the safe hands of Mrs B and went off to take photographs - you can see them here.
The end result was that I wandered around in a totally silent world snapping everything in sight. Silence was ok, I'd be able to listen to the gig when I got home.
Unfortunately I had pressed the wrong button on the recorder and when we got back to Bogsville the tape was blank. Things like that happen to me.
The band left this afternoon. Bogsville Heights is as empty as a new Dat tape again and there is no sign that Nerve Engine were ever here, except for a bruised cherry tree outside in the road.

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I Asked For Women

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

I asked for women in the Pig & Plonker and I got them.
I was deep in conversation with Raul, leaning against the empty bar when a woman marched up and elbowed her way between us. We waited patiently for her to order her drinks but she decided to chat to the barman.
Raul and I had been in mid conversation and I made the mistake of telling her that her friend was dying of thirst. I was holding a note,ready to pay for a round so she snatched the note and pranced around the bar area with it shouting "F***ing this and f***ing that." The main gist of her tirade was that I had no f***ing sense of humour and was f***ing sad.
I ignored her - no f***ing sense of humour I guess, not when it comes to dog rough women who drink too much and grab your money.
Lord, as you know, I don't ask for much, so next time you send a woman to the Pig & Plonker please see if you can send one with a little bit of class.

Alarm system routine check

The engineer turned up to check the alarm system. I asked him if they had moved the call centre to somewhere miles away.
"Oh yes. Miles away," he said, "Manchester."
So much for my theory about Bombay or Calcutta.

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Sickbag

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

I'm knackered, beat and stiff everywhere except the one place where it matters. Ladder work is definitely not the way forward for me. I've spent the best part of two weeks trying to sort half a dozen windows and I don't seem to be getting any nearer the end of the job.
The woman on the checkout in HomeBase said, "Are you still up that ladder? Thought you'd have finished by now."
The greaseball sitting at a table inside the entrance asked if I wanted double glazing or a conservatory. He's lucky I didn't empty the latest tin of primer over his head.
The postman greeted me like an old friend when he dodged past my ladder and asked if I wanted him to put a good word in for me with his bosses.
But when the milkman came for his money and asked me what exactly I'd painted so far it just about finished me off. If no one can tell that I've done anything, what is the point? At least I can cross climbing ladders off my list of personal phobias. And I've finally found something that Volvo is good at - preventing ladder slip.

By way of a reward for all my hard work I drifted into the local bar last night and found myself surrounded by men. Hell's bells there were no women in there at all. No barmaids, no female customers. Nothing. There were plenty of couples but they were all male.
The chit chat was simlpy scintillating my dear.
"Oh he's much more handsome than me. He's very sporty and a vegetarian too. Only eats healthy food. He's lovely. I know you'd adore him."
At which point he squeezes his friend's knee and I wish I'd put my chastity belt on. At the other end of the bar a tall something or other leans over and licks his buddy's nose. He must have forgotten to bring his handkerchief with him. I had a great desire to order a sickbag but made do with another pint of Carlsberg.
So right now I'm sitting here with a great thirst on, dreaming of women and remembering last night's unproductive visit to the Pig & Plonker to mingle with the local intelligentsia. It's enough to make you spit. I think I'll open a whore house.

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A Must Have Accessory

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

Ladders are rapidly becoming a must have, accessory round Bogsville Heights. The pro decorators moved in to paint a house just down the road so I went along to get some ladder tips.
Tip number one - don't ask decorators for tips.
"Doesn't the ladder slide backwards when you're at the top?
No. We stick a bag of sand against it."
And that was the sum total of what I got out of those two experts. The bag of sand didn't look big enough to stop anything sliding.
I've decided to park Volvo up against the bottom of my ladder. Even if someone drove the car away I'd have plenty of time to get off before the ladder started sliding. Ask any of the cyclists who beat me away from the lights.

Admission

I haven't been up the ladder today. Apart from an hour playing about with some wood filler I haven't done anything. Oh well tomorrow is another day. Tonight I will mingle with the intelligentsia down at the Pig & Plonker.

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I Spoke To A Man In India

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



The rhododendron in the front garden is in full bloom. The flowers aren't as big as they are in Spring but all the buds are opening. I guess that means it won't flower in Spring next year. Maybe I've Rip Van Winkled my way through Winter.
I spoke to a man in India today. I phoned the alarm company to book a routine inspection. They must have moved the call centre to Bombay or Calcutta. The guy on the other end of the phone was very polite and very keen to help but I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying.
I bet it's very expensive sending an engineer from India to check my alarm here in Bogsville and now I'm worried that if we have a break-in or a fire, the call will be routed to the Bombay police or fire brigade. I'm sure they're both very efficient, it's just that they are, well, distant.
For a change, I spent the afternoon at the top of a two section extending ladder that was leaning against the front of the house. You get a great view of the house wall from up there and vertigo. While I was up there I had a great desire to call the faithful to prayer. I get like that sometimes.
Tomorrow I'm taking a break from ladders and paint and I'm off to see my little Chinese dentist lady. I'm not sure why but I'm sure I'll think of something.

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The Girl On The Check-Out

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

The local branch of Homebase has sprouted a spire. I noticed it this morning when I made my regular 11.30am pilgrimage. I offered up a silent prayer that there would be gallons of wood hardener fluid and yea, verily my prayer was answered - all was well, a new batch of cans beamed down at me from the shelves. Yet another miracle.
The girl on the check-out smiled at me and said, "Wouldn't it be cheaper to buy a new window?"
DIY's definitely the in thing, even the local Methodists have a sign outside that reads 'carpenter needs joiners'.
Maybe that's where the joiner who was supposed to be fixing our window disappeared to. A job for 'The Carpenter' looks better on your c.v. than a job for Milt Bogs, which is why I'm up and down the damn ladders all day.

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Sexual Gymnastics

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

You can have too much of a good thing. I'm now sick and tired of seven days going up and down, up and down, all day everyday. Unfortunately I'm not talking about sexual gymnastics here, I'm talking about ladders and window frames.

Late this afternoon the air ambulance circled overhead. One of the neighbours must have thought I was in trouble at the top of my ladder. Luckily, by the time it arrived I was on the ground, otherwise I might well have fallen off.

At least I've proved my ability to keep going up and down all week so if you are in need of someone who possesses that dubious skill, feel free to get in touch.

And all that reminds me of the card I once saw stuck on a door.
On it was printed 'Clime the stareway to sukcess.'
I was intrigued and after four flights of stares I reached the top and knocked on the door. It opened and there stood the biggest guy I'd ever seen, beaming at me.
"Hi there," he said, "my name's Cess."
I was out of there. I was back down those stairs faster than a fireman down a greased pole and that's fast. Well you have to draw the line somewhere.

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A Bird Of Prey

Track of the day Walking on the Moon - Police.

I spotted a bird of prey yesterday. It was big. It was very high up and still looked very big. We don't have big birds of prey round here just the occasional kestrel. My instinct told me it must be a buzzard because I've seen buzzards and I know what they look like but we don't have buzzards round here.
Whatever it was it was seriously big, bigger than any buzzard I've seen. It was flying east.
I ran to get my camera hoping that it would fly back and make my fortune but it didn't.
I couldn't see any markings, it was too high. It just looked brown, had a huge wingspan and the tail was fan shaped and stumpy. The wing beats were very slow.
It looked like this and that is ridiculous because 'this' is a white backed vulture and we don't have vultures in Bogsville.
But this morning I spotted this page on the BBC news site.
That's only 30 miles away as an African White-backed Vulture flies.

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Boule Or Petanque

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



I leave you to provide your own caption.

The game of boule or petanque is very popular in France. I'm really not sure why. I think it helps to have the legs of a downhill skier.

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The Heavens Opened

Track of the day Storm - Itchy Fingers.

I'm not up the ladder today. I woke up this morning to find that the dry spell had ended. The heavens had opened and rain was hammering down on my unprotected window sill.
If only I'd given it a final rub down and a coat of primer last night. But I didn't.The ladder is still leaning against the wall. It's too wet to move it.
Crap!


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How Many Cigarettes Can You ...

Track of the day Get Off My Cloud - Rolling Stones.

Today's question is how many cigarettes can you get in the boot of a Vauxhall Vectra? Bear with me a while or even bare with me. I have plenty of time while I wait for my last injection of wood hardener to harden.

Yes, the wet rot is spreading. Can you get wood hardener in gallon tins?

I've decided that climbing up ladders isn't a bad way to spend the day. I've just got back from Judith's garden. The key still doesn't open the back gate but a ladder on one side and a ladder on the other and I was over that gate in no time and spraying water around everywhere.
No one stopped to ask what I was doing. Yesterday I was high at the top of a ladder with my trusty hypodermic and today I'm trying out my burglary skills. When you've got an expensive habit like injecting wood hardener you need to supplement your income where you can.

From my vantage point at the top of my ladder I've just watched next door laddie set off very tentatively for a driving lesson.
Which is strange because as far as I know he's been driving around Bogsville for about four years. I assumed he was driving legally. I suppose that when you are qualifying to be a lawyer you have to make sure you don't have too many skeletons in the cupboard.
I might turn him in, see if there's a reward.

I'm amazed at how many Iraqis are bending the laws here in Bogsville. First it was the eyeless driver guy and now there's a report of a 34 year old Iraqi immigrant arrested for sharing his house with 480,000 smuggled cigarettes. They were all over the place, in the airing cupboard, in the bedrooms and even in the back garden.
To make matters worse he was later found driving a van that contained another 115,000 and a Vauxhall Vectra he owned, had another 11,600 in its boot.
Of course they weren't his. He was looking after them for a very sinister and scary guy who offered him £100 a week to store them.
I'd store cigarettes for £100 a week.
Anyway the poor guy has been sentenced to 12 months in prison and after that they are threatening to deport him.
I hope they don't intend to incinerate all those cigarettes. The passive smoking brigade will have a fit. They should all be made to attend next Sunday's Bible talk.

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Up A Ladder With A Hypodermic Syringe

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

"I've spent the last two days painting."
"Oils, acrylics or water colours Milt?"
"No - window frames. Top coat tomorrow if it doesn't rain and I don't fall off the ladder."

It all started when I decided to climb up the ladder to scrub some bleach into a dark stain that had appeared on the rendering by an upstairs window. While I was up there I noticed a large hole in the window sill where there used to be wood.
The next three hours were spent cutting out wet rot and injecting wood hardener into what was left of the sill. Standing at the top of a ladder with a small hypodermic syringe full of wood hardener seemed like a good idea but it wasn't. The wood hardener set inside the syringe and I couldn't press the plunger.
The syringe wasn't big enough and 'Wiggy', our friendly but humourless pharmacist wasn't convinced by my story when I went in to beg a bigger one, even when I told him I didn't want a needle with it.
I've been expecting a visit from the local drug squad all day but I expect they're too busy chasing blind Iraqi drivers to bother about me giving my window sills a fix.
Anyway I decided to paint the sills after I'd filled them. Why stop there? Paint the bloody window frames too. So that's why I can't move my fingers and have pains in my shoulders, legs and feet.
The window cleaner came today, took one look at what I was doing and said, "I'll come back next month."
A month might not be long enough.

The stain on the rendering? It's still there.

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Blind Iraqi Driver Sentenced

Track of the day Get Off My Cloud - Rolling Stones.

Omed Aziz, the blind Iraqi, found guilty of dangerous driving in Sandwell, has been sentenced today. Everyone knows that the British legal system is unrivalled in the world. Unrivalled for stupidity that is.

The guy was banned from driving for three years and ordered to take an extended driving test. I'll bet the testers will be fighting for the chance to sit in the passenger seat for that test.
Last April police followed Omed's Peugeot for half a mile along Oldbury Ringway at speeds up to 35mph and watched him successfully negotiate two roundabouts and a corner.
When they attempted to speak to the driver, his passenger leaned across and stated "He’s blind".
The police asked the driver to step out of the vehicle and then questioned him about his eyesight, at which point he removed his glasses and they noticed that he didn’t have any eyes.
The guy has no eyes. What exactly is the point of a three year ban? Do the Sandwell magistrates expect him to sprout new eyes during the next three years?
I just hope they don't bring him to Bogsville to take his extended test.

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Wiggle It Round A Bit

Track of the day Love's Made A fool Of You - Buddy Holly.

I don't like telephones. I don't hear them ring and can't make out what people on the other end are saying.
Today I carried the phone round with me all day because I was expecting a call. It didn't ring until the one day cricket Test between England and Pakistan was coming to an end. It was Mrs B announcing the soccer results. That wasn't good because I was planning to watch the soccer after the cricket finished. I'd been recording the game and the result was the last thing I wanted to hear before I watched it.
I must have said the wrong thing because she rang off. I'd only been carrying the bloody phone round since 10:30am so that I'd hear it ring.
I made my evening meal and had just got it on the plate when the phone rang again. It was elder son ringing from somewhere in London. He always rings when he is walking in crowds or standing on a station platform with trains roaring past.
End result was that I could only make out every third word. It sounded to me like he was being attacked by a gang wielding chainsaws. We agreed to speak again sometime.
I discovered a message on the phone yesterday from the woman whose garden I'm supposed to be watering. She informed me that the lock on the gate has been changed and our key doesn't fit.
I went off to find the right key. I couldn't get that to work either. The bit of the message that appealed to me was, "When you get it in, you have to wiggle it round a bit."
Lady I assure you I would have wiggled it round for hours but I just couldn't get it in. Story of my life.

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A Digital Hearing Aid

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

Yesterday someone rang the front door bell. I was amazed. Not because there was someone at the door but because I had actually heard the bell.
It was the postman.
He handed me a pile of letters and a package. I thanked him profusely. He seemed genuinely touched by my reaction.
He must have been pleased because he came again today and I guess he rang the bell.

I didn't hear it but I know it was the postman - he left a package on the step.

A digital hearing aid or two might solve the problem. The analogue aid I've got is useless. It just amplifies everything and that is painful.
Trouble is there's a two year waiting list round here for a digital hearing aid. They claim that it's because it takes 45 minutes to carry out a hearing test.
Well excuse me but there's a big difference between 45 minutes and two years!

Scots are careful with ...

She with ants in her pants phoned this evening. She has been on a conducted tour of the High School she attended forty odd years ago.
"Those tubular steel chairs with canvas seats in the assembly hall look just like the ones we sat on," she told the janitor.
"They should do. They are the chairs you sat on," he replied.

I suggest that this must be some kind of record in the education world.
Please don't think I'm accusing the Scots of being mean - they are just very careful with money. I wish that careful Gordon Brown would invest a little more money in digital hearing aids so that I can hear the front door bell.

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A Girls' Reunion

Track of the day Thirteen Women - Bill Haley.

This week I seem to have been spending most of my time chasing bees round the garden. I suppose I'm looking for a dog substitute.
She with ants in her pants has disappeared up north again with tales of attending a girls' reunion. She left me a piece of paper reminding me to water Judith's garden. It would appear that Judith's orf somewhere until Wednesday. The woman next door is away as well. If it carries on like this there'll be no women left in bashfully.

Never mind there's always the gurlz in the Hole in the Ground bar and the bees to provide some solace. Anyone fancy a week in Hungary?

Ian Huntley

I note that the Sun newspaper carried a report yesterday of how a nurse at the hospital where Soham murderer Huntley was treated after his suicide bid screamed abuse at him as he left in a wheelchair chained to guards. One nurse yelled, "Why couldn't you die, you bastard!"
He probably would have done if they'd put him in one of the wards made available to the rest of us mere mortals.

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Omed Aziz

Track of the day Get Off My Cloud - Rolling Stones.

According to stories I read in the Bogsville Bugle, a lot of local drivers possess neither insurance nor a licence so I wasn't unduly surprised by a recent local report about a 31 year old Iraqi driver, Omed Aziz, who had no insurance cover.

Omed pulled over after police had tailed his Peugeot for half a mile along Oldbury Ringway at speeds up to 35mph and had successfully negotiated two roundabouts and a corner.

Pc Austin said: "I attempted to speak to the driver, who appeared to be fumbling around with the controls. At that point, the passenger leaned across and stated ‘He’s blind’. We asked him to step out of the vehicle, which he did eventually, and then Pc Edge questioned him as to his eyesight, at which point he removed his glasses."
Pc Austin, was asked if he noticed anything when the driver removed his glasses.
He replied, "I did - he didn’t have any eyes."

Sounds like Guinness Book of Records stuff to me.

It's all the more confusing because flying blind is apparently to be lauded. Perhaps someone should get that Iraqi guy a plane. No, on reflection that might not be one of my better ideas.

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Busy As A Bee

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

I've been busy as a bee today. Cut the grass, front and back, walked around, painted the front door, managed to get through the day without spending any money, the list is endless. I even remembered to eat some breakfast and lunch.

Exciting news from Walkers, the crisp makers. They are going to launch a healthy, low fat crisp in minute 25g bags instead of small 34.5g bags to help their customers stay healthy.
Bullshit!
They sell smaller packs to make more money from the same number of potatoes. Anyway I only eat Seabrook crinkle cut, saltless crisps.

If I...

If I were Tony Blair I'd fly back to Barbados immediately.
If I were the Queen I'd banish him, either to Afghanistan or Iraq.


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Keep Taking The Drops

Track of the day Them There Eyes - The Rhythm Boys.

Another miracle. I turned up for my three times rearranged appointment at Bogsville's eye hospital and sat there and sat there and sat there.
There were 39 people waiting in the out patients' waiting room when I arrived. One old guy was fast asleep in a corner, either that or he was dead.
Every now and then someone came in and called out a name but no one moved. Bogsville people with lousy eyesight are also deaf as posts. I blame it on too much masturbation. At this point I would just like to point out that when it came to my turn I heard my name loud and clear! Obviously not enough... yes you guessed it.
After an hour and a half they got round to asking me to read the letters on the wall and half an hour later I was given anaesthetic eye drops and the spring pressure test on both eyes. The examination and test took exactly four minutes.
"Perfectly normal readings Mr Bogs. Keep taking the drops and we'll see you again in six months time."

Not if they keep cancelling the appointments they won't!


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Toni Iommi Critique

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

Marvel at the words of wisdom about Nerve Engine from Toni Iommi.
"Good go!"
"Good grief!" What sort of critique is that from a Heavy Metal rocker?
Get them in a recording studio someone and sort those levels sorted out and 'arfterwards' you can send it back to Toni. I reckon he got that name from a 1950 home perm kit.

Serious Stuff

There were two emails in my inbox when I checked it this morning. One was from Dishwasher K. Thimblefuls and the other was from Sprucer M. Laundryman. While I'm on the subject of names, my real name is obviously enough, not Milt Bogs. It's sad but true. My Father, a learned and well-read man, decided that I should be baptized Chimpanzee X. Whipsaw. It's always been plain X in the middle because Xenophobe is too tricky for most people to spell and it comes in very useful when I'm dealing with spam mail.

You can get your own personal spammer name here.

Toni Iommi is actually known as Peridotite F. Monocular in spamming circles. No wonder he says things like "Good go". Keep rocking Nerve Engine but sort the levels and bang some heavy guitar in the middle for guys like Toni.


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Toni Iommi Plays Phoenix

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

There are times when I wonder whether anyone else in the world has a bladder.

Public toilets used to be widely available round Bogsville but then the Council discovered that they were being used as meeting places. They discovered that cottaging in was a way of life for certain Bogsville boyos and immediately decided to close down the toilets to protect the boyos from their own vile weaknesses. It didn't work but it did deprive poor old boggers like me of a legal place to pee in public. As a result I have been reduced to peeing against the wall of police stations, behind garden hedges, against walls of every shape and colour, lamp posts, bus stops, parked cars etc. etc.

The above picture was taken for me by Mrs B during her latest northerly jaunt. The only problem is that 400 miles is a long way to go for a pee after a night out in Bogsville.

Toni Iommi Plays Phoenix

At the top of this entry is a link to a chunk of Phoenix by Nerve Engine. I'm not the only old rocker who likes the track. How do I know? Because it's being played tomorrow night on Black Sabbath guitarist, Toni Iommi's show at 7pm (UK time) on Planet Rock Radio.

You can find Planet Rock Radio on DAB digital radio in the UK, Sky Channel 0110, ntl:home channel 880 or Telewest channel 924.

I bet he's peed on a few police stations too.


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