Now what shall I blog about today? I could write another poem, say more about our recent trip to Malta and Gozo or give you an update on the saga of our Seat Ibiza. I could write hilarious spoof biographies for Robert Brague or Thomas Gowans. Then again I could address the mysterious Voynich manuscript or weigh up Hull City's chances of survival in the Premier League next season. I could dig up memories of my childhood, university or early teaching days. What shall I blog about?
Perhaps I could share a recipe from my extensive culinary repertoire or tell you the sad tale of two married friends who are splitting up after twenty five years. The neolithic temples at Hagar Qim and Mnajdra were amazing.What about the trip I am planning to the Isle of Man? There are far too may things to blog about even though I have been at this game for eight long years. Hell I was still a young man when I started.
Locked in a cupboard deep in a my memory vaults there are tales of the awfulness of some of the pupils I had the dubious honour of teaching and of some of the wonderful colleagues I worked with. I could blog about some of the many mistakes I have made in my life or about my brother Simon. How I swam away from the shadow of an enormous shark beyond a reef or how I nearly died in a Morris Traveller in 1978. There are jokes I could share or thoughts about Ed Milliband - the leader of Britain's Labour Party.
Hair loss, skin cancer, losing weight, Oscar the former family cat or Blizzard or darling Boris, the decline of garden birds, why do people hoard things while others live in clinical order? The fight I had at university. Playing rugby union at school and for my city all those years ago. The women before Shirley. My thoughts about fashion and expensive watches. There's so much I could blog about.
But hey, it's eleven twenty six and I am still in my dressing gown. Shirley has gone looking for new tiles for our little shower room. Shall I blog about something this morning? Nah, I think I'll just make another mug of tea and go upstairs for a shower. See ya!
11.54 am Jim-jams are obviously de rigeur for Saturday morning bloggers... still in mine.ReplyDelete
LETTICE LEAF Will you be going out to the supermarket in your jim jams and do they have little dalmatians all over them?ReplyDelete
I couldn't possibly do that, they would make me tie them up outside.ReplyDelete
11.26 is too late for a shower. You should get a Jacuzzi and drink your tea in it.ReplyDelete
Your last blog was plenty good enough to slide on this one. Please see my comment.ReplyDelete
After thinking about what you said on that blog some more, I will happy, delighted, thrilled to create a blog at my site and post any info you can obtain about these killers.
That said I suspect there was a reason originally for the slaughter of these birds. Likely, they were messy. Maybe that could be addressed.
DAVID OLIVER Thank you for calling by sir. Regarding the Maltese bird killers, there seems to be no logic to it all. As to photographing the guilty men, even the photo at the top of my last post would not count as evidence against that particular moronic shooter. What would twist the Maltese government's arm the most would be either a tourism boycott or strenuous recriminations via the European parliament.ReplyDelete
I see. Thanks for a clearer understanding on my part.ReplyDelete
As far as posting the guilty party picture on the internet, I did not think it would help in any legal way. My thinking is people hate to be embarrassed. For a long time, we had a huge number of auto accidents involving drunk drivers because a local fun thing to do was get in your car with a friend or friends, drink and "ride around."
Stupid I know...
Then the local paper began posting photos of offenders who were caught DWI (driving while intoxicated) and the practice has just about vanished.
I suspect that Maltese machismo is so strong that these idiots would see publicity as a badge of honour. A better solution might be to make the cruel morons dress in turkey suits and then run while bird lovers like you and I prepared to blast their asses with bazookas!ReplyDelete
my favourite type of blog here
But it paints a picture