Monday, October 13, 2008

Oh we do love to be beside the seaside


Isn't the seaside lovely eh? Bracing fresh air, all the rocks you can throw and lots of lovely salty water. We went for a Sunday trip to the beach for a walk, it was delightful and actually rather warm. I didn't go swimming as that would be silly, but the amble along the shore was jolly pleasant.

We played the now almost traditional game of silly questions. I asked my little brother if a talking fish dragged itself out of the water and said 'kill me' would he do it?

Debate raged for ages, to only be usurped by a even fiercer battle over which was the best flavour of ice-cream which in turn was replaced by a slightly more bizarre debate over which colour of ice cream was the best indicator of a pleasant taste. Yellow seemed to do well, but brown gave a strong showing and so did purple. By the end of the walk the matter still wasn't settled.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Outbursts and insects


I was going to apologise about the slightly ranty outburst yesterday but after finding out more about what this evil woman has done I feel it was entirely justified. Let me just say that yet again, I was shocked by how unpleasant that woman is. Anyway, I shall never have to deal with her again so that is the end of the matter.

In other news I'm waiting on cheques, very over due cheques. Massively overdue cheques. It's a good deal I'm home at the moment because otherwise I'd be surviving on a diet of crickets and my own body hair.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Ha, in your FACE


I've finally got my inheritance from the second wife, I also managed to get my little brothers inheritance collected at the same time. Which now means the evil witch of a women who had such a negative affect on my life can now completely and utterly bugger off.

I hope she dies in a horrible way, I really do.

Stepping out


The Hitchcock Blonde and I have been stepping out together quite a lot. My chums has suspected as much for a while but it was officially confirmed a week or so go.

I expected my chums to be pleased but what caught me slightly off guard was the rave reviews the Hitchcock Blonde got. I've never been out with someone so approved of, perhaps I should try and get the Hitchcock Blonde to run for office? Or maybe my friends are just taken back by me seeing someone who is just lovely.

Either way I'm going to have to change my stand-up routine, hmm.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Wonking, continued.


Well the toe is dewonking on it's own so that is good. I've been going for gentle walks with it protesting mildly but it is starting to relent. I think that the wonkeons disperse as I walk along through a process known as Wonkmosis*.

It's still a bit wonky but far more manageable which is excellent as a wonky toe would reduce the amount of fun I can have. I'm always amazed how little I wonk myself up while doing dangerous things for work and yet manage to build up dangerous levels of wonk to the point of injury during normal life. By the way the process of increasing your wonk levels is now known as Wonkosynthesis.

*Discovered by Swineshead

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Wonky


I'm working on a piece about cars today, classic cars. Hurrah for writing about subjects you don't know really quite enough about. Luckily I used to be quite into aged cars, so I've had to dig out some old books and re-read them, it's amazing the things you forget, isn't it?

Aside from that I've not got much else to report, my wonky toe is still wonky but perhaps slightly less wonky than yesterday. I'm not sure how one scientifically measures wonk? With a Wonkometer I assume, or perhaps a wonkoscope? What are the units of wonk? Does one talk about wonkograms? Wonkatude Or Kilowonks?

Monday, October 06, 2008

Learning through injuries


It is amazing how often I pick up injuries. For example, just yesterday I managed to do something awful to my toe (it might be broken, how does one tell?) and mildly injure my knee. I also have a mark on my head, although that seems mostly cosmic. The cause of these injuries, well lets just say that I lost consciousness for a while and leave it at that.

As side from the injuries it was an excellent weekend, The Hitchcock Blonde was down in the West Country for a few days and so we went for walks, ate far too much and sat in front of log fires with books. We also played billiards, a sport which I am terrible at. Actually it's beyond that I'm absolutely awful but during an evening of furious drinking I seem to have got pretty good suddenly. I'm not sure if it was the slightly out of date banana beer or the blow to my head but now I'm not bad.

Perhaps I should inform the Olympic committee so they can introduce head injuries and out of date novelty drinks into their training regimes?

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Birthday Kebab


Well my birthday is rattling around again. I'm not quite sure what to do for it. It's a vaguely significant birthday because, well to put it bluntly the last year has been a pretty rubbish one. Oh there were some good bits, don't get me wrong but in balance I think it was one to skip - I think all the fun bits can be condensed into a week that would mostly involve motorbikes, spiderman costumes and Hitchcock Blondes.

So yes, hopefully this age will be over. I think I should have known that it was going to be slighty iffy when my birthday came around.

I'd not had a birthday with a girlfriend, well for a terribly long time so I had no idea what to expect. Actually, thinking about it before then I'd always been single for birthdays. If you are a regular reader you will know that I was in quite a serious relationship at the time, we were living together and everything.

For my birthday I got a kebab. Yes a kebab, a chicken kebab to be exact. Now I wasn't expecting anything huge but something a bit more significant that a meat-based snack would have been, well nice. It wasn't even a sit down meal, we went to a kebab shop.

Days or so later that my girlfriend returned from shopping absolutely laden with presents. I mean she could barely hold them all, and I got a little bit excited. No mention was made of the gifts, and after what seemed like hours I politely enquired who they were for and she said she had decided to get some presents for her Aunts just because.

I didn't even get a card until a few days after that and the reason given was 'Well you seemed all grumpy so you didn't deserve it.'

It's not that I wanted a diamond waistcoat or golden pants, I just wanted something with a bit of thought in it that didn't come with a risk of food poisoning.

Still I suppose that at least I won't have to try hard to improve on it. I mean the bar has been set very low.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Winter Hats


It is jolly cold here. In the interests of reducing the Carbon Brogue-print we are trying to avoid turning the heating on as much as possible so other methods have to be employed to keep a chap warm.

So I don't die of extreme (well mild) cold I am working on a plan to stay warm, here is it so far.
1) Grow some smashing facial hair to keep the face warm, ideally whiskers that you can wax while thinking on problems.
2) Burn everything you can in a 'fire'. These 'fires' are jolly hot an excellent for heating up rooms.
3) Take up pipe smoking, this means you can have a 'fire' near your face to work with the whiskers to keep it warm. Of course the wax on your whiskers might catch a bad case of being on fire from your pipe. Which while providing short term warming of the ol' noggin and a very dapper look may cause a bit of light scarring, actually why not go for it anyway.
4) Stuff cats inside you waistcoat. These little purring chaps throw out a lot of heat and come in a range of excellent colours and patterns.
5) Drink a bottle of brandy every 4 to 6 hours, this will make you have a healthy glow and also allow you to enjoy even the most drab of conversations.
6) Ensure that you share your bed with company, girls are not ideal for this as the tend to always have cold feet. Maybe a girl whose feet are ablaze would work...

Monday, September 29, 2008

How to miss your train, part 2


Well I am still in London, I was suppose to leave yesterday but I was having far too much fun, and lobster to want to go away. This puts me in a troubling position I was hoping to not enjoy London quite this much so leaving it wouldn't be too much of a trial. This didn't happen, I've had a spiffing time, absolutely spiffing and now I don't want to go but as I came up with a terribly limited wardrobe I have to.

There are other reasons why I have to return, like work things - I made the rather brave move of leaving my laptop behind which I don't regret but it means I can't really work up here. Silly chap eh?

I've been thinking a bit about the places you end up in, what I mean is how removed where I am now is from where I was say, five years ago or ten. Actually even a year ago feels like an entirely different world.

So perhaps it's time to go shopping for a new suit to usher in this new period? Yes, I think it's time but time for what? I've got more than enough tweed and velvet and that wouldn't be quite right, maybe a safari suit? Or something equally strange like that.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

How to miss your train, part 1

Ah, Soho. It's a special part of town, you can have evenings in Soho
that you just can't have anywhere else.

You can have whole days of nonsense there too. Yesterday was one such
bash, twelve hours of the sort of antics that would have Oliver Reed
saying 'steady on old bean'.

People were ruined before The French House was suggested as a post
party venue and when we started on the iconic half pints things got a
bit more messy.

Friday, September 26, 2008

London

After careful thought I would like to say that I think London is excellent fun. Where else can you see a chap in a smashing white frock when you pop out to get some over-priced lunch? You just don't get the same quality of cross dressing in Devon and so far my various meetings with people have gone jolly well, jolly well indeed. Hurrah for travel.

I have started drinking already, and now I am viewing the afternoon through a pleasant wine induced blur. We had post-lunch cocktails at a club (the one that Piqued goes to a lot but is still excitingly new to me) and now I'm drinking in the office. In a moment we are going off to another office where we will be drinking vodka with someone in drag and taking photos of this event.

To say it's a slightly different Friday experience to what I've been enjoying recently is a bit of an understatement.

London

I'm having and excellent time in London, although I did get ticked off
for skipping. It seems that I'm not really serious enough for the
capital anymore.

Maybe if I wear some sensible shoes that will help me get in the right
mood.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Projects, Projects, Projects


That's what I'm involved in at the moment, I've got lots of things going on. Many irons in the fire or what ever that silly phrase is. The net affect of this is that I have lots of reasons to spend hours frowning at my phone waiting for it to ring or tell me I have a new email.

Perhaps I should do something useful like reorganise my cravat collection or see which gloves go best with my new jacket. Yes that would be a more productive use of my time.

Short posts for short people.

This is what today is mostly about.



Actually it's not really, I just think this sketch is brilliantly on the money.

Monday, September 22, 2008

I say Top Hat old bean


Yet another surprising turn. I'm going up to London this week, tickets have been booked (by the people who want me in London) looks are being compiled and plans are being formulated. I'm really rather looking forward to it, which is strange, but perhaps Wales can have that effect on a chap.

I've been doing a bit of the ol' soul searching over the past week, mostly about if I should keep this blog chugging away, it's been good to me and so I should probably continue it, plus it's where I can write absolute piffle and that shouldn't be underestimated.

Every piffle has it's place.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Passing.

I had a bit of a quiet Sunday. I needed to recover after the weekend and my little brother and I decided to mark the passing of our father so we had a look through the old photo albums and talked about things. It was important to do something even if it wasn't something massive.

Anyway, I'm going to take a few days off this blog. Toodle pip

Sunday, September 14, 2008

A series of observations


1) Sometimes it is good to meet your heroes as they will turn out to be unbelievably nice and you will have a long chat about all sorts of things including both losing members of your family to cancer and if you should keep their numbers in your phone. You should as a way of remembering them.

2) Male bonding is very special, you can go with a group of complete strangers to do something. After doing that thing for about fifteen minutes, unable to see the other people or talk to them you are firm friends. I've just realised that description makes it sound like I engaged in a depraved sex-act this weekend, I didn't.

3) It's not a proper weekend away unless some part of you aches afterwards. Again, sounds like a rude thing.

4) Sometimes when you are trying to make a series of observations just end up seemingly hinting that you did rude things with large groups of men.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Sleepless in Swansea

It's about 5am, I should be asleep getting as much rest as possible
ready for today activities. However I am so excited by what I am going
to do that I can't sleep.

Instead I'm pacing around my room and taking pointless photographs of
the tea making supplies.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Oh Happy Day!


I have had a spiffing day absolutely spiffing, but as a side effect I won't be going to London. I have an assignment, a dream assignment the sort that only comes along every now and then. It is so marvellous that I did a little celebration jig, and then another one. I'm still dancing around a little bit.

This assignment will involve an entirely new suit of clothes, two days of doing something marvellous and a trip to another country* and at the end of it all I'll get a certificate. I like adventures where you get a certificate at the end.

All this means that I'll be doing something my dad absolutely loved on the weekend of his death, I can think of no more fitting tribute to him than that.

*Admittedly Wales rather than somewhere hot.

Abe Lincoln and his amazing beard


I'm starting to get ready for my trip to London, a social calender is being put together, various meetings have been arranged and I've shaved off my silly Miami Vice beard.

While shaving I discovered that an Abe Lincoln beard rather suits me, so perhaps I should go and join a puritanical order in America for a bit. I don't think I'd get on with the religious aspect but the facial hair wouldn't be a problem.

Also I've just found out that my 'slot' for the stand-up is 25 minutes, that's erm about 20 minutes longer than any previous slots I've had so my options are:
a) Say everything five times.
b) Speak at 20% of normal speed.
c) Come up with some new stuff.

Currently A is winning, but B has potential too. The only way C is going to really work is if my journey up to London turns out to be hilarious in a 20 minute sort of way, not exactly likely but we shall see. Or, I could try and date four women in the next four days and try and squeeze five minutes of material out of each relationship. That might work...

Monday, September 08, 2008

Packing informal hats


I've got a gig in London this weekend and I completely forgot about it, yikes! Not only did I agree to do some stand-up I have a few fairly important parties that I really should attend. So perhaps a return to the capital is in order.

This means I'll have to shave my luxuriant beard which is shame; but probably for the greater good. And then think about what I'll take with me, I'll have a social engagement every night so I'll need a few looks but I really don't want to have to take a whole suitcase. Hmm, this will be tricky. Perhaps if I just take a couple of informal hats and only one or two changes of brogues.

Of course if I can co-ordinate my trip with some work stuff, well that would be excellent otherwise it will just be a jolly across the capital which will be fun but not a terribly good idea. Although, many a grand adventure has started off with something that could be described as 'not a terribly good idea'.

Saturday, September 06, 2008

Stupid Geese


It's been raining here a lot, I mean a lot. The fields have turned into swampland. The chickens aren't terribly amused by this, we have had to relocate all their houses so that they aren't submerged.

The ducks are okay with the swampy fields but they don't like all the raining - if it's sideways rain they tend to just hide. The only animals who don't seem to change their habits for the rain are the geese. They just stroll around honking about how it is raining.

'I just got hit by something wet'

'I another wet thing just landed on me'

Geese are really stupid, that special sort of stupid that would do really well working in local government. They are excellent at ignoring the facts and acting in a way that seems completely illogical - I'm amazed they haven't run for office yet.

Friday, September 05, 2008

The Iphone, a jolly late review


I've given in and got an Iphone. Now I should preface this with that I'm not an Apple sort of chap, we had Apples at the magazine I used to work at and they were a nightmare to deal with, everything was so expensive to replace and they were constantly doing weird things that made no sense - the weeks spent trying to make them talk to printers at the same time as PCs still makes me shiver with horror.

Anyway, as someone who would be seen in two different tweeds before he would buy an Apple computer buying an Iphone was a bit of a step for me. Admittedly I used to have an Ipod and it was marvellous, but on my first date with TP it got lightly crushed and the screen broke so it sadly is now retired.

I've had a Blackberry phone for over a year now and it's been terribly good. Since I'm a freelance journalist it's really useful to be plugged into my emails all the time - especially when an editor needs to check a couple of things at the last minute. I'm sure if I had a 9 to 5 job the idea of 'the man' being able to constantly email me would be less appealing but for me it's perfect. Sadly recently the Blackberry has started forgetting things, like emails, so it needed replacing and I made the move to an Iphone.

I've only had my new phone for about a week now but I'm completely sold on it. Rather annoyingly Googlemail doesn't 'push' to the Iphone (so it doesn't tell you when an email arrives, you have to check yourself) which I'm imformed will be sorted out soon but apart from that it's better in every way. The map system is frightningly good - it's a little alarming that it can tell my location with in meters without a GPS system. Having another Internet connection is extremely handy, especially when the land line broadband is constantly being interrupted and apart from a couple of niggling things (I can't work out how to cut and paste) it's an excellent bit of equipment.

It's even pleasantly slim so a chap can wear it with a fitted suit.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

Nerd talk in relationships


I know lots of people who would be described as geeks, they are good eggs. Well I suppose they are like normal people but they just happen to have extensive knowledge about fictional subjects and or languages that people don't really speak (C++ and C for example).

There is this long running geek 'joke' that you call your kids Version 2.0, as if they were a new iteration of a program. I use the quote marks because it's such an old joke even Shakespeare would have trouble slapping his knee over it and going 'Ha'.

Anyway, in the same line of thought I was thinking of other nerd terms that could be used to describe other things. I mean terms that less technologically aware people would understand.

For example, a program in Beta means it's an early version prone to crashing that everyone is testing out. If the program is good you put up with the problems because it could turn into something wonderful. This could be applied to all sorts of things.

Louche - 'I say Jeff old chap, how is your relationship going with Sarah?'
Jeff - 'Rather well, but it's still in Beta.'
Louche - 'Blimes.'

Actually I can't think of any other examples, blast.

An open letter to my immune system


Dear Chaps,

We've been through some good times and some tough times together, I feel we have a special bond. We've been through a lot and that makes people closer. Now I like hankies as much as the next chap, possibly more but I do feel the cold and various other aliments that has been with us for weeks now is getting a little excessive.

Perhaps like a house guest over staying it's welcome we should gently usher it towards the door and tell it that we look forward to seeing it soon. It's jolly exciting having new people and things to stay over in the old body but I think it's time we got rid of this once and for all.

I know the summer has been pretty rotten and all that but it's time we all pulled together, I mean it's just about to start being party season again and we'd all hate to miss out on some bashes because we were feeling a bit unwell.

Kindest regards,

Louche

Award time


Ah the GQ awards rumble around again and surprisingly people give a damn. It's a strange old world where the editor of GQ, Dylan Jones, is the only person who makes David Cameron look cool in comparison. GQ is a magazine that has completely and utterly jumped the shark and so in the spirit of that I've decided to announce my own awards to provide some balance.

The Dylan Jones Award for unpopularity while being in charge of something
Gordon Brown

The award for 'style icon' that no-one really wants to look like
Some chap a band where they wear really tight trousers

The Rolling Stones award for still being alive to the point when most people suspect Necromancy.
William Shatner

The Louche award for starting a list of things and then realising it's not quite as funny as you thought and that you really should be writing something a bit more productive, or failing that about motorbikes.
Me

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

R.I.P. A duck


One of our ducks was killed yesterday in an accident. It was reversed over by a van. It's not the drivers fault, the ducks are so tame the concept of anything being dangerous is utterly alien to them so the poor thing didn't have the brains to get out of the way.

I don't think the other ducks realised what had happened as they kept coming over to see the dead duck and standing near it so it could be part of the mass swarm of ducks again. I gave the duck a full viking burial last night, well I made a boat out of paper and rubbish and then burned that with it in it, we don't normally keep miniature longboats about just in case something like this happens.

It's not all sad here, one of the cats has discovered a false beard (from a Father Christmas costume) and he is attacking it with vigour. I had no idea cats were so anti facial hair, it might be wise for me to shave before I suffer the same fate.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Miami Beard


A few days have passed since the party and yet I'm still sporting the silly slightly-crafted stubble beard.

I went for the Miami Vice look at the party, a character called Sonny Crockett gave me an excellent excuse to wear a white suit with the sleeves rolled up and a pale blue t-shirt. This look doesn't really go that well with a rural setting (white clothes and muddly fields don't get on) but it worked for the bash.

Right, I think it's time for a mid-morning coffee.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Hay and parties

> We have had our Internet access removed in Devon by a passing
> tractor loaded high with hay. I didn't know about the tractor
> incident so I spent a whole morning fiddling with settings while
> frowning at my computer.
>
> So this is being posted by my new phone - the old one had started
> forgetting emails and so it was like using a forgetful telegram
> operator to communicate. Not ideal.
>
> I got a new phone and the lady in the shop informed me that in 48
> hours my old phone would be turned off and the new one would gamely
> spring into life. Fine, I thought I'll just take both with me to the
> S themed party and I will use the working one.
>
> Sadly it didn't work out like that and I was left, lost in Dorset
> without a phone or the handy map phone thing I had come to trust. My
> ditections were limited because I had lost the invite. Navigating by
> asking people in pubs is not advised, they can get you to roughly
> the right area but then they are no good.
>
> The party was okay but I just wasn't in the mood and so I left after
> only a few hours, still the drive home was excellent fun, and I now
> have silly 80s Miami Vice Stubble.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

High Performance Sports Brogue


The visit to the shop was a success. The Hitchcock Blonde had at least nine dresses to try on at one point but eventually brought a rather conservative two dresses and then regretted not buying at least one more by the time we had arrived home.

It was a fun day out, we strolled around the streets, engaged in some light but focused shopping (I tried on a range of things but sadly the god of sizes wasn't with me) and then ambled back to the car.

Today we have been playing tennis and then messing around in the pool. I've not played tennis for well over ten years, and my skills haven't suffered in the slightest in that I'm still terrible. I have an natural urge to hit the ball as hard as possible which is not terribly conductive to playing well. Perhaps I would be better suited to a variation with an entirely enclosed court, or maybe squash. Since I wasn't prepared for tennis I ended up playing in brogues and wellies before finally settling on barefoot.

Brogues are not high-performance sports shoes but even I can't use them as an excuse for my terrible playing. I was also wearing over-larges shorts co-ordinated with a lilac tie in the place of a belt (my belts have disappeared in the move) which I found rather becoming and I think will become a 'look'.

The pool was freezing so apart from a quick dip I spent most of the time trying to rescue a frog. The frog was saved after quite a lot of hunting around with nets and we retired with a rosy glow to our cheeks that comes from helping out hapless amphibians.

I've got to dash home now to find a suitable costume, I'm going to an 'S' themed party and the look is stumping me. Mostly because the party will require a sit-down meal and the only S costumes I have aren't really ideal for semi-formal dining.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

I feel the need, the need for tweed


Today is going to be a shopping day. I'm going to take the Hitchcock Blonde to my favourite vintage clothes shop. There will be some fairly intensive shopping, they have a whole rack of amazingly cheap vintage motorcycle jackets that I've never noticed before so I shall be examining them closely and possibly texting Piqued about how much he would like them. This isn't a terribly good plan (the shopping not the texting) as any spare cash is supposed to be saved up for a motorcycle, not spent on more motorcycle clothes.

The Hitchcock Blonde will be picking up a tweed jacket for her brother and then probably falling for the charms of one of the many 1950s dresses that bedeck the walls. This would be completely understandable as they really do have a lot of smashing dresses.

The picture was taken last week when my little brother and I visited the shop, we managed to resist buying anything but only just. This time I doubt I'll get away without buying something lovely that I don't really need.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

A second home in the city


The following blog entry is either news report from the future or a vague stab at satrical humour, only time will tell.

‘It used to be such a community’ remarked Crispin Huntington-Thorp ‘People knew each other, that’s gone now.’

Crispin lives in a very changed London, since the great recession of the late noughties people living in the cities have had their way of life slowly eroded. Things weren’t always like this, it used to be that well paid people in the towns would have second homes in the countryside but due to the financial crisis the situation has been reversed.

Now poor city bankers who just want to scrape a living and preserve their way of life are increasingly being forced to sell their houses to people from Cornwall and other rural areas to avoid bankruptcy. Humble traders and commodity brokers are being pushed out of family houses that have been in the family for perhaps up to a generation to make way for housing for cattle and land for food.

‘It’s disgusting how they are changing this area,’ continues Crispin ‘someone should do something before it’s too late. Second homes are destroying the character of Kensington.’

It’s a very different Kensington these days, The Chelsea Tractor has been replaced by a real Tractor and cows can often be seen being driven down the high street on the way to their milking sheds. Even the smell is different with the horrific fumes of freshly cut hay and clovers drifting across whole areas of South West London.

Some parts of the capital have suffered more than others, typically the areas where people were likely to have a second home in the countryside – the sort of people who overreached to have that bolt hole in Dorset are the ones paying the price now.

People like Amanda Chumley-Warner. ‘Once they get into an area they ruin it. First to go are the expensive delis, Farming people don’t want them and so they can’t stay in business. It’s impossible to get Parma ham on the Fulham Road now. If I want essentials like Avocado Oil I have to go for miles to get them. There used to be a little knickknack shop on every street corner where I could spend money on little expensive things when ever I wanted and that’s gone too. Farming people just want to by wellies and animal feed, most of their food is reasonably priced and locally sourced it’s disgusting.’

It’s not just the shops that are suffering as waves of new people come into the area who don’t want to buy Mongolian Carpets or Cath Kidston Yurts. The local wine bars are suffering as well. One owner, who declined to be named, said the following.

‘It used to be that you could expect to shift a few bottles of stupidly pricey red to the regulars when they would come in, but that’s gone now. All the wine bars are suffering. The local people can’t afford to come here anymore. Restaurants are in trouble too, the influx of rural types who don’t want our sort of food is forcing some people out of business. It’s all ploughman’s lunches and disgustingly simple food with fresh ingredients now, who wants to eat that?’

The outlook for the next generation is bleak too. Local children can’t afford to get on the property ladder because of the raised prices and all the houses being used to store grain and cattle. The young adults of London now all talk of moving out to the countryside to make some money, they don’t want to leave the city but, for them the only way of getting a living is to move to a rural area.

‘Whole areas of London are now ghost towns during the week.’ Said Sebastian, a bright fifteen year old ‘It’s those second home bastards, they don’t realise that their holiday home means that proper local people can’t get homes. Not that I want to stay in the city, there is no future for it. My family have lived in Notting Hill for generations working in PR and consultancy but there is no chance of that for me.’

‘People move to the city because they have this dream of an urban life with cars and smog and things but the moment they get here they change it. They idyllic view of living in somewhere like Maida Vale doesn’t match up to the reality – cars smell, but they don’t want that so they get them banned and it’s the locals that suffer. I hate everyone who has a second home in the city.’

Sebastian’s words echo down a Sloane Street that is forever changed, gone are the exciting clothes shops and fashion boutiques to be replaced by yet more places selling animal feed and post offices. The latter makes Sebastian spit with rage

‘Post offices? Why is it that every part of London has to have a post office? It’s disgusting, it seems almost every day another of our essential upmarket delicatessens is closed down to make way for yet another bloody Post office.’

With that Sebastian marches off towards Knightsbridge. We all have to wonder what sort of future people like him will have, and if the government will realise in time that this precious urban way of life needs to be preserved. Even the Cityside Alliance’s march didn’t make a difference, so what will?

For Sebastian’s sake I hope something is done soon.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Carry on Convalescing


I'm back, but I'm a bit broken. It appears that four, no five days of almost no sleep and large amounts of cocktails (we may have been camping but there is no excuse for a drop in standards) can make you a little bit unwell.

I do this every year and yet I never learn. Ho-hum. Luckily I've got a few things to catch up on while I convalesce, like the latest edition of Bike magazine. Huzzah!

Also I have decided that it's time for a new pocket watch so I've stopped using the mechanical one and now I'm going to be seen about with only the rather minimalist number with the white face. Or at least I will be seen about with it once I've managed to stop being so unentertainingly ill.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Minibreak


I'm off to a strange festival for a few days with my little brother so I'm not sure if I'll be doing any updates while I'm there. It's a very silly festival, but we went last year when my dad was very unwell and it was good so I suspect it may become a bit of a tradition.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Tulgey Wood


It's my Grandmother's Birthday today so we are off to visit the venerable matriarch in Dorset. Her house is excellent fun to visit, especially because she has a forest with a stream that could be very honestly described as a tulgey wood. Thankfully the chance of Jabberwocky attack is fairly minimal, although we have seen otters and kingfishers.

Right, I need to shave because Grandmothers don't approve of beards.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Rosé Regrets


The Hitchcock Blonde came to stay this weekend and met the geese. She arrived very late on the Friday and rather dangerously came with Rosé. I've not been drinking much while I've been down here so I've got rather out of practice, and for some reason it seemed like a terribly good idea to buy a bit more Rosé on the way back from the train station. I came to regret this for most of Saturday as we polished off three bottles of the stuff and I awoke at 6am feeling terribly unwell.

Saturday was pretty much a write-off, even watching films proved to be a trial and when I went out to chop some wood up with an axe I had to sit down for a bit afterwards and try not to think about being sick. It was a troubled day and so the plan of taking the Hitchcock Blonde to the best vintage clothes shop in Great Britain was shelved. I should point out that The Hitchcock Blonde was also in a bit of a state so I didn't suffer alone. Rosé is now banned as every time I drink it I give myself an injury.

Even though we were both ruined from booze we still managed to affect some introductions with the the poultry, the Geese were cantankerous as usual but the larger ducklings were awfully jovial and so proved a hit. One of the cats was being very friendly and he spent the entire time hunting us around the house.

Sunday was spent doing equally restful things, including a meal that involved home grown vegetables and home-shot game. After that I dropped The Hitchcock Blonde off at her mothers house and returned home. It was nice to have such a relaxing weekend, especially after all the weeks of shovelling.

I'm back to the hard labour again today, it's 10am and I've already been out for a run and dug out some more scrap as part of the on-going cleaning efforts. So it's a good, honest start to the week so I expect I'll be drinking Gin and trying to give myself gout by Tuesday.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Running like Rocky


I went for a run this morning before breakfast, which is something I thought people only did in films. I dragged my little brother along too and it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. We ran around one of the fields, so once that becomes far too easy we will start running around the wood, and then the larger field and so on.

So now the rest of the day can be spent feeling virtuous and glowing with good health no matter what I do. The sort of good health that lets a chap really enjoy Second Breakfast. For those who don't enjoy the West Country lifestyle here is the meal plan for a normal day.

Breakfast - Hearty, savoury food.

Second Breakfast AKA 'Crib'
- Pointless food, anything that you don't need to survive so chocolates and cakes.

Brunch - Something savoury to keep you going until lunch time

Lunch - Again a large meal, typically featuring fresh bread.

Two o'clock Treat - Chocolate again, possibly a cake or two.

Afternoon Tea - Surprisingly large selection of food served with tea. Mixture of savoury and sweet.

Supper - Informal meal including a pudding.

Then for the extra hungry a midnight snack is allowed based around toast and cheese.

It's a good job I'm doing so much shovelling and running.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Victory!


The garage is cleared, it's now a shining example of a functioning garage full of exciting equipment for leisure activities rather than indoor rubbish dump. We finished early today because we slightly over estimated how much work was required. Huzzah!

Now that the garage is out of the way I have far fewer excuses for not sitting down and working hard. Or at least I while have once I've unpacked. The fast amounts of clothes I've brought back are still haunting me in their bags. Every day I unpack and sort out about half dozen of them and yet the pile seems never ending. I won't give up to the luggage menace, oh no.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

A Gentleman's Boudoir


I don't know why but I'm finding it terribly hard to write a blog entry today, so I am going to write about that. Erm, well, yes. It's not exactly thrilling is it?

I'm even caffeinated up to my eyeballs which normally puts me in a typing frenzy and yet it's not working, perhaps it just isn't good enough coffee? Instead of bashing keys away happily I'm just listlessly gazing at the blank screen. This is not good, I need to be able to whiffle away to pay for things.

Maybe I have some sort of unpacking sickness, yeah that would make sense. A flu like disease that is brought on by moving too many bags and shovelling things about. I've done a lot of that recently, more than enough thank you very much.

Even after all this moving my room is a mass of bags, it's not quite as forbidding as it used to be but it's still pretty awful. The Hitchcock Blonde who is going to come over for afternoon tea on Friday is not going to be impressed, and that won't do. A chap can't have Hitchcock Blondes tutting at his boudoir.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

A drive in wardrobe


I need space, lots of space for my suit collection. It's getting rather silly now but I suppose that is it. Even a walk in wardrobe wouldn't be large enough to store it all so I am going to have to convert a garage into, what I think is probably a world first, a drive in wardrobe.

I can't imagine I'll often drive in to get a suit but the option is there should I need it. I've still got lots more unpacking to do, today I unpacked the books and put them in the bookcases around the house, there is one in every room so it was quite easy to get them to be reabsorbed into the collective.

I think that's probably the limit of the unpacking I can do for a bit, there is no-where to unpack too and so it's a bit more tricky. This isn't ideal as I'm starting to get a little bit worried about my cravats, they are going to need a lot of TLC when I finally dig the out again.

Perhaps I can revolutionise cravat storage next? I mean, I can't just stop after inventing the drive in wardrobe.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Whoops, I found a motorcycle.


The move down to London was fine, I managed to do the whole thing without seeing the flatmate - I heard her come in a 4am (tsk curfew eh?) but that was it. Anyway, I loaded my stuff up fairly quickly with the help of van man and set off.

The journey down flew by because Van Man was a biker so we spent the whole trip talking about motorcycles and then he gave me an introduction to classic rock. It was very educational.

We didn't get back till late so I only had time to unload my stuff before falling fast asleep in a room with no visible floor space - I'm amazed how much stuff I have, too much stuff. Since there isn't storage for all my things in the house the plan is to turn one of the garages into a storage place by cleaning it up a bit. I helped build the main garage many moons ago and it's be mostly used as a storage place for bits and bobs which is silly because there is a HUGE boat shed and a proper workshop, let alone a selection of stables and things to store junk.

So this morning I started on the garage ruthlessly throwing out broken printers and shoes that rats had eaten. The first hour or so was really hard work because the shed was so full of things that we couldn't even open the door to get in properly. While cleaning the shed out, I put a couple of long bits of wood in the boat shed and something caught my eye. A motorcycle! It's been there for years but I've not been in the boat shed for years so I hadn't noticed it.

It's pretty old and clearly being in a shed for at least a decade hasn't improved it but it's a motorbike and it is now my project bike. I'm going to get it running again and use it to bimble about while I save up for something more impressive. I found it (and many other useful things) because I was cleaning.

Who knows what I will find tomorrow?

P.S. for anyone who cares about these things I'm informed by a chum who has seen blurry photos of it that it is a Suzuki 125ER, possibly.

Saturday, August 09, 2008

I'm leaving, on a packed train, don't know when I'll be back again


I've got a return journey to London today to pick up the rest of my stuff. I'm not really looking forward to it - I hate moving house at the best of times - but at least once it's done it's done so that is good.

The current plan, or at least the vague ideas masquerading as one is to stay down here for the rest of the summer (going up to London a couple of days a week when I need to) saving cash (this bit is going well) and then return to London for the winter with far, far less stuff. Realisitically I could get by with a far more stripped down selection of items - perhaps one or two novelity suits and that is it.

In other news I asked two of my dad's friends for motorcycle advice. One of them was really helpful the other one, who was for a while my dad's best friend in the world was less so. It was a bit weird really.

Well enough whiffling on about this, I have to catch a train.

Friday, August 08, 2008

Giles Coren Vs Raymond Chandler


I'm sure almost everyone on the planet has read Giles Coren's letter to the sub editors, for the three people who haven't here it is. Rant

For anyone who feels the need to harangue sub-editors (and I can't say I approve of such a thing) this is how it should be done. The letter was composed by Raymond Chandler to the editor of The Atlantic Monthly, Edward Weeks.

To Edward Weeks

... Would you convey my compliments to the purist who reads your proofs and tell him or her that I write in a sort of broken-down patois which is something like the way a Swiss waiter talks, and that when I split any infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will stay split, and when I interrupt the velvety smoothness of my more or less literate syntax with a few sudden words of bar-room vernacular, that is done with the eyes wide open and the mind relaxed but attentive. The method may not be perfect, but it is all I have. I think your proof-reader is kindly attempting to steady me on my feet, but much as I appreciate the solicitude, I am really able to steer a fairly clear course, provided I get both sidewalks and the street between.


And that ladies and gentlemen how it should be done.

Rain, Cornwall, Cocktails


I've not been blogging as much as I should - which is a bit rubbish really. I have been doing things but I've been naughty and got out of the habit of writing something on here every day. BAD LOUCHE, GO TO YOUR ROOM.

I have been doing some exciting things, I mean it's not all been breaking rocks here, oh no. On Tuesday I visited a chum for cocktails which was excellent. The trip over was exciting as I managed to get comprehensively lost in the middle of nowhere, well the upper-middle of nowhere. It was a special lost of lost as the place I was trying to get to was vaguely like where I was so some of the instructions still worked. This added to the confusion.

I made it in the end, after a couple of phone calls and a bit of time spent frowning at maps. The road was very wiggly which made me want to be on it on a motorbike. Well on a motorbike when it was nice weather - it had been raining constantly in Devon for what seems like years.

It's also been raining in Cornwall, my little brother went on a camping trip which was cut short because the weather was so bad. On the day that I went Tall Ship sailing I had to rescue him in the evening, from Cornwall so I clocked up about 500 miles. I was exhausted from sailing all day so it was even more tough than usual. Still I managed it without crashing so that is good. It has rather put me off driving for a bit.

The only other news is that an ex seemingly didn't understand when I said 'please don't contat me again' several times. I've had say I'll contact the police if she keeps badgering me. Hopefully this will finally get through to her.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Chain Gang


Today I broke rocks with sledge hammers. This is because the rocks needed breaking and there was a handy sledge hammer around. Smashing rocks is hard work, and there is quite a lot of hitting before you get the satisfying crack that means you have broken a rock.

There might be an important life lesson in that.

Monday, August 04, 2008

Lunch

It's a hard life being a sailor.

Yum yum yum

Grog

My arms feel like they are about to fall off, climbing the rigging is excellent fun. It is pulling the ropes that is the killer.

The experience is terribly English, after every activity is tea and cakes.

Cannons and planks

No sign of cannon which is a shame but no plank either so I am unlikely to have to walk it.

I wonder if they still have a brig?

Press Gangs

With ships like these I'm amazed the Navy ever needed press gangs.

What is that in the distance?

It's a giant ship made of Wood! Oh my word it looks cool.

Suddenly I'm eight years old again, just look at it!

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Cornish Waterworld


The West Country is damp, super damp. I've actually abandoned Cornwall because it was so wet. Well not entirely, I did have to come back to Devon to pick up some things before I could go and mess around on Tall Ships but I think I'll stay in Devon for the rest of the week instead of going back to Cornwall for more camping.

The surfing photo shoot went well, the photographer this time was amazing, really amazing. Photographers and their subjects should get along as you both have to do something a bit weird together. If you do get on then it's great fun and you can tell it's fun from the photos, if you don't it's awful.

We only had a few hours to get all the shots we needed and I had to borrow clothes off strangers (I'm quite proud of being able to get someone to give me their hoodie for half an hour when they had no idea who I was) and get women I'd never met before to pose in photos but we managed it and it was good. I even had time to have a light brunch with the photographer while we waited for the instructor to return.

Posing strangers was fun as they kept acting all stiff because the camera was on them. We didn't have time to give them a few drinks because we had to take photos fast so we had to resort to being silly. Also we needed some 'wine' for the photos and I suggested we use black current juice and water which looked the part and made me feel like a special effects person, albeit one in someone else's hoodie.

It was a good day, and the photos are stunning. I'm tempted to post one even though it would out me and that is not good. Instead I'll save it for something else like an official work website which I should have set up years ago.

Do they really work? Has anyone got work through their website?

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Country living, pros and cons


Here is a run down of the various merits of living in the countryside so far. I mean the proper countryside, not just some rubbish rural town.

Pro - Zero crime. Not only does this mean that you sleep better at night but that it costs peanuts to insure things like motorbikes and cars. It's even cheaper if you live somewhere with loads of lovely garage space and even a boat shed that could store hundreds of bikes.

Con - Night Life. Everywhere is miles away, so stumbling home from the pub is more of a hike that an pleasant amble. The nearest pub is about three miles away and is crap. Still I might give it when I get desperate. They have a dart board, or at least they used to.

Pro - Clean Air. It really is far more fresh out here, and I don't miss the thick smog of urban life. London isn't that bad really, but if you get the tube you get this weird black dust on your clothes and that can't be good.

Con - Public Transport. You have to have a car or a bike in the countryside to get about. The nearest bus stop is miles away and runs a daily bus. Yes one a day. It used to be one a week, so I suppose that is a sort of improvement.

Pro - Food. We have a garden here, full of vegetables. I just dug up some potatoes and picked some beans. We are talking food yards rather than food miles. It is excellent.

Con - Food. You can't get Dim-sum in the West Country. Not at all. I'm not sure if it is part of some ancient by-law or just the crapness of being West of Bristol. Even if you don't agree with Starbucks the only opened recently in Exeter, about a decade after the rest of the country.

Pro - Geese. Everywhere you go on the farm you are watched by geese. Watching them back is one of life's great pleasures. They are quite tame, which isn't to say they won't bite you but if you hold out a bit of bread they will at least bite that first.

Con - Social Scene. I've never been one for young farmers after having worked at some of their events in my youth. The countryside is a lovely place to live if you are settled down but as a young chap about town it's not so great. Maybe I could start a sideline in importing lovely girls into the countryside, there is definitely a gap in the market.

Pro - Shops. The clothes shops down here are awful, apart from country wear of course but since I've got a full set of shooting gear I don't have much of a reason to by any more. The lack of good shops is excellent because it means I won't pop out and buy a suit in a moment of weakness.

Con - Cocktails. Supplies are limited, and the quality is very low, very very low. Louche's law of cocktails states that anywhere that offers cocktails by the jug will serve awful cocktails. You can only get them by the jug around here.

Pro - It's New. After having lived in London for so long the countryside is refreshing change. Admittedly I've only been here for a few days so it currently feels like holiday.

Con - The countryside can't be that great, or I would have stayed here rather than bolting for London the moment I could.

Hmmm.

Emergency photographs and Hitchcock Blondes


There has been a bit of a to-do, a piece was dropped from a paper and so they needed to run the surfing piece I wrote ages ago instead. This presents additional problems because the previous photos weren't up to it and so they needed new photos, taken this weekend.

Due to some sort of minor miracle I happen to be only a short hop away from the surf school this weekend so by calling in favours and thanks to an extremely helpful PR we are going to be able to stage the photos and get the piece ready in time. I just hope this miracle pays off, I mean surely an editor is going to throw you more work after you have saved her bacon when no-one else could, right?

On Monday I'm off Tall Ship racing so it's quite an activity filled weekend. I'm really looking forward to dancing about on a ship but I'm not looking forward to the drive so much - it will be about four hours there and four hours back, maybe more. The post sailing drive is going to be the killer I reckon.

After the ship racing I'd really like to spend some time resting, possibly entertaining visiting Hitchcock Blondes but instead I'll be back to Cornwall to resume the camping holiday. I don't think I've ever been camping in a restful way but then I normally only go in tents at festivals or other sorts of parties involving lots of gin so perhaps this will be just what I need post nautical adventure.

Friday, August 01, 2008

Everything I needed to know about life I learned from a shovel


The last few days have involved a lot of earth moving, earth moving, gardening and general shovelling. The countryside offers a whole new range of ways to procrastinate when you should be working. There is always something to feed, prune or stab with a pitchfork when you should be squeezing out more words.

I say working because I'm busy, for some reason work is pouring in and so is the cash (the final part of my advance from the first book arrived today) so I can start looking at motorbikes, actually I can jolly well go to a dealership now and see if something suitable is about. Hurrah. Also a national newspaper have finally decided to cough up the money they owe me after six months and that lovely cheque is also waiting for me in London when I go and pick up my stuff.

I think it's down to the shovel, a chap who is handy with a stout blade on the end of a stick isn't the sort of chap you should owe money, that's what I say.

To increase the bike fund even further I'm off tall ship racing on Monday so that will be another payment for the ol' two-wheeled fund.

Right, time to get back to shovelling I suppose. Those huge clumps of earth won't move themselves. Oh and for any mentalists out there who are thinking of murdering someone and then putting them in a grave that they dig themselves, allow a lot of time and take a pick. It's amazing how long it takes to dig a hole, even if you are fuelled with a murderous rage.