While I'm in the mood for dancing, er blogging, I thought I ought to reply to my Tagging - can't remember who did, but I was tagged to blog about 5 things you probably didn't know about me.
This is very unfair - as has been said, I don't remember a whole lot of my younger years.
This isn't just rhetoric, I genuinely remember very little from the last 15 years (or before for that matter) Its not that I don't have a good memory, I do - i frequently irritate Cass with being able to remember stuff almost photographically - not like Dan, but pretty good anyway - I think I just wasn't very good at laying down memories, i kind of couldn't be arsed with it. That's what photos and stories are for.
And that is the other problem, the only things I do remember are the stories I've told, ad infinitum to most of you - as with H, I have been known to be a bit gobby. On occasion.
On top of which I have little shame and am not frightened of obloquy, so little goes unmentioned.
So I put to you, the blogosphere (see I'm learning the lingo and everything) that maybe you could blog me five things I probably didn't know about myself.
Meanwhile I will try and think of something interesting
Thursday, 25 January 2007
Its not meant to snow, in Subtropical Shoreham...
But the dog loves it, he's like a child the way he rushes out to play in the snow. Barmy.
Friday, 19 January 2007
No sailing today...
Photographer: Dan Montuschi
"Taken at 10.30 on 18th January - looking towards Brighton West Pier from Hove."
Thursday, 18 January 2007
Christians or Microsoft Users
Which are worse, which do you hate most ?
Currently I am feeling about as vitriolic toward christians as Doug does towards microsoft users.
On Saturday we will be scattering my mothers ashes in the grave yard of the church she was christened, confirmed and married in. Whilst this is going to doubtless be of great benefit to my grandmother, it is something that my father and I are really not looking forward to. We've had it about up to here with these so called christians, and their terrorist mythology.
Whilst my mother was lying on her death bed she asked to see the Vicar. Obviously having not been there it is difficult to imagine what goes through ones head, and in fact something I hope never to find out (please may the number 36 hit me, just as I start my decline), but having not been to church for 30 years she obviously believed it was time, to have a quick word - just in case like...
So what happens is that this vicar who looks like he spends most of his life in either the pub or the school play ground appears on our doorstep, asking to be invited in... For Future reference, Never Invite Them In they are like vampires!
Previous to this, my mother had been in pain, a lot of pain, but she was quiescent and stoical; she was accepting. She knew what was coming - nothing, and she was almost looking forward to it as relief from the pain, ignominy and debasement of this horrific disease. She was afraid of dying alone or dying in hospital, but she was not afraid of dying.
Half an hour with thispaedo vampire priest and she was in hysterics - she was going to be damned. She was afraid to die, Peter would meet her at the pearly gates and cast her down into the fiery pits of hell. She must repent all her sins (I think she trod on a wasp once. She even apologised to me for spanking me too much as a child; I mean, me, with such respect for authority! I don't think I was spanked enough. But that's another story.).
He followed this up with no less than a dozen visits during her last week, just to ensure the torment was complete. My father took to hiding in the garden shed when he came round.
Her last days were a misery of despair thanks to this nasty little* man and his abhorrent superstitions.
I hate them, and everything they stand for. This one, to be fair was by far one of the better ones - reasonably liberal and humanising - imagine how bad the full-on fascist hardliners would be ! I didn't approve of christianity / organised religion before, but now...
So anyway, for the sake of my grandmother, who is too old to know better, we have to go and listen to more of this drivel, all the while trying to keep the visions of violent and bloody theocide out of my mind.
[/end rant].
Right, sorry. Have a good weekend. Doing anything nice ?
* actually he is enormous, no less than 25 stone certainly. More "little", as in small minded weasely theocratic tosser
Currently I am feeling about as vitriolic toward christians as Doug does towards microsoft users.
On Saturday we will be scattering my mothers ashes in the grave yard of the church she was christened, confirmed and married in. Whilst this is going to doubtless be of great benefit to my grandmother, it is something that my father and I are really not looking forward to. We've had it about up to here with these so called christians, and their terrorist mythology.
Whilst my mother was lying on her death bed she asked to see the Vicar. Obviously having not been there it is difficult to imagine what goes through ones head, and in fact something I hope never to find out (please may the number 36 hit me, just as I start my decline), but having not been to church for 30 years she obviously believed it was time, to have a quick word - just in case like...
So what happens is that this vicar who looks like he spends most of his life in either the pub or the school play ground appears on our doorstep, asking to be invited in... For Future reference, Never Invite Them In they are like vampires!
Previous to this, my mother had been in pain, a lot of pain, but she was quiescent and stoical; she was accepting. She knew what was coming - nothing, and she was almost looking forward to it as relief from the pain, ignominy and debasement of this horrific disease. She was afraid of dying alone or dying in hospital, but she was not afraid of dying.
Half an hour with this
He followed this up with no less than a dozen visits during her last week, just to ensure the torment was complete. My father took to hiding in the garden shed when he came round.
Her last days were a misery of despair thanks to this nasty little* man and his abhorrent superstitions.
I hate them, and everything they stand for. This one, to be fair was by far one of the better ones - reasonably liberal and humanising - imagine how bad the full-on fascist hardliners would be ! I didn't approve of christianity / organised religion before, but now...
So anyway, for the sake of my grandmother, who is too old to know better, we have to go and listen to more of this drivel, all the while trying to keep the visions of violent and bloody theocide out of my mind.
[/end rant].
Right, sorry. Have a good weekend. Doing anything nice ?
* actually he is enormous, no less than 25 stone certainly. More "little", as in small minded weasely theocratic tosser
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