Monday 14 September 2009

Pencils and socks.......

Last night as I was swinging a 300bhp rally car round a hairpin. I was suddenly confronted by a blank screen, and flashing red lights and various beeping noises from my right hand side. After the shell shock had worn off, the realisation had dawned on me…….My beloved Playstation 3 was dead.

After doing the usual nonsense of unplugging and then re-plugging all the various wires in the back, I tried it again. This is very similar to when your car breaks down. What do we do? We lift the bonnet up, and start wiggling wires. There is a very small part of us, that actually believes that this random wire wiggling will solve the problem! We even have the blind faith to ask the passenger to "Try it now" but as with Playstation 3 wire wiggling, it is futile.

There then followed the usual shameful self pitying, being short tempered with Miss Marple for having the audacity to try and help, and general "Woe is me, God hates me, what do I expect, nothing ever goes right for me." Etc etc etc. Fast forward to this morning. Even though I am desperately trying to be a grown up these days, honest I am, I was still feeling a little sorry for myself.

I wandered through the woods with Ronnie and Reggie, wondering if it is possible to buy a bazooka off of ebay. I mused about how difficult it would be to track down the CEO of SONY, and make him pay for what he had done to me. We got home and I grumpily buttered my toast, which was neither the correct colour, temperature or texture.

As I was doing this, I looked up at the TV through my scowl, and I just caught the end of an item which showed some British troops in Afghanistan. They were at a school, and they were surrounded by little kids of primary school age. These kids had never been to school before this, they had never experienced the joy of reading a book, or writing a story, due to the evil bastards the Taliban. They had forbidden the education of these children, no doubt so that they could indoctrinate them with their twisted and perverse philosophies.

A soldier gave a little boy, who must have been about five, a pencil. The little boy took the pencil, he held it in his little fingers, and twirled it around. He looked at the pencil with wonderment, and then up to the soldier that had given it too him, as if he had just given him all the Playstation 3’s in the world. I felt about two inches tall…….

Miss Marple and I are huge fans of the comedy series ‘Frasier’. We are slowly buying every series on dvd, and spend many a happy hour laughing at the goings on. Many people have said to me that they don’t like Frasier, "’Cause it’s American and therefore rubbish." Frasier may be an American production, but it is far from your average slapstick American twaddle. (That’s not fair, there have been many brilliant American comedy shows…….it’s just that ‘Friends’ taints them all for me)

Frasier is actually very English really. Both the main protagonists, Niles and Frasier, are both extremely English. Pompous, stuffy, aloof, snobbish, condescending etc. and a lot of the situations they end up finding themselves in descend into farce. (The good kind!)

But as we are on the self reflection tack, there was one episode where the sentiment stuck in my mind. I can’t remember the exact details, but as usual something or other hadn’t gone Frasier’s way. he was pacing around in his palatial apartment pontificating about this that and the other, when his much more down to earth father piped up……."Why do you have to analyze everything to death? Why can’t you just be happy with what you’ve got? You see Eddy (His dog) you know what makes him happy?.......a sock."

Frasier dismisses his father’s advice, and at the end of the episode, is sitting in a chair complaining about everything, Eddy runs out and sits on the chair opposite…….with a sock in his mouth. Frasier looked about two inches tall too!

The point to all of this? I don’t know really. I don’t really believe in God, and I am not particularly a fatalist, but just lately every time I sink into one of my "Woe is me" episodes, something from nowhere seems to slap me in the face with a reality check. Every time I feel hard done by, almost without fail something will remind me of how metaphorically rich I am.

It’s been rather a strange few weeks lately actually. People from my past have been coming out of the woodwork in spades.

First a bloke from my first band twenty years ago hunted me down on Facebook, then the drummer from America. Another old band chum who I haven’t seen for about four years, after my maybe slightly acrimonious leaving the band episode suddenly turns up on the door step. I was flicking through the channels the other night, and did a double take. A woman I used to be in band with was on ‘Come dine with me’! Then on the same day, watching the local news, a singer I once knew is on the news!.......weird.

Or is it just one big fat coincidence, I don’t know, but it makes you think sometimes. Maybe that is the purpose. LOL, I don’t know. Oh, and to top of the weirdness, the other night while waiting outside for Ronnie and Reggie to do their late night wee’s, I looked up to see the stars, and there was a set of four lights moving in a peculiar pattern. Starting off as a ball, splitting into four separate lights, spinning through 180 degrees, reforming into a ball, and so on. I even dragged Miss Marple outside to confirm I wasn’t hallucinating.

The even weirder thing, is a few days later we were outside one evening, and I jokingly said "I wonder where my friends from the sky have gone?" and it started immediately!!! No really. Haven’t seen them since. Well on that weird note, I am going to end this rather weird blog! No doubt I’ll be back to my usual self soon. Calling peoples cunts and such the like, so If I haven’t been whisked off to the planet Zargon, I’ll be back soon.

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About Me

Smileville, Smileshire, United Kingdom
Don't let the bastards grind you down! peace and love x