Heart Warming Quote of the Week

Clare Short, speaking on the Andrew Marr Show: "Whilst Gordon Brown did not speak out in Cabinet against the war, he did not support it."

Yes, that's what she said. And there's more.....

She goes on, ''He was saying to me 'They think they are going to have a quick successful war and then they will be very powerful and then they will have a reshuffle'. "

Comforting that whilst the permatanned sleazeball Blair was pulling together his inner sanctum to inflict death and mayhem on the Middle East , our current Prime Minister was sulking in his tent thinking about his own position above all other moral and ethical considerations.

I'm thinking of voting Lib Dem or UKIP.

You can't always get what you want....

For the last 44 years I've laboured under the mistaken impression that the greatest track on "Blonde on Blonde" was "Stuck inside a mobile with those Memphis Blues Again". I pictured poor Bob trapped in a Memphis traffic jam getting depressed until suddenly twigging last week that he was referring to Mobile, the third biggest City in Alabama.

One of the best lines of this best song is : "Your debutante just knows what you need. But I know what you want."

Begging to differ, although he isn't a debutante, the great and gifted Steve Jobs of Apple said : "You can't just ask customers what they want and then try to give that to them. By the time you get it built, they'll want something new."

That's very true. You can market research until you're blue in the face, but some of the greatest innovations have been inspired rather than mechanically produced from questions and answers. Penicillin, the flush toilet, the Sinclair ZX80 and the Ipod didn't come from Market research but from flashes of brilliance and inspiration coupled with hard graft.

It's a pity the politicians lining up for the forthcoming election don't chuck out their focus-group marketing and spinning and just apply some inspiration. It might just work.

Camshaft

Cross Incontinence

Well it's been a funny old week. I've been knee-deep (literally - yes, I know) in man-flu but man-flully soldiering on in a busy week for the rag and bone Industry. The Queens of Blogland North, East and West have all been in Hospital, whilst Radio Four did a big number this morning on proposals to extend the retiring age to 87. It was presented by 86 year old John Humphries.

Anyway, in my position as role-model for the intrepid generation I've agreed to do the Coast to Coast in 12 weeks time. No, it doesn't mean watching repeats of Neil Oliver on BBC2 all afternoon. It involves cycling the width of the Country from Whitehaven in Cumbria to Whitley Bay in the North East following in the footsteps of Britain's Greatest Fell-Walker, Alfred Bradbury.

These ideas are fine and dandy when discussed over a glass or two of wine in front of a warm radiator but once people have actually booked accommodation and train journeys the reality starts to dawn that the Coast to Coast will involve 50 miles of serious cycling. Every day. For 3 consecutive days. The first day being over the top of the Lake District. It's not quite the same route as Alfred Wainwright's original Coast-to-Coast Walk as it is a proper Sustrans Cycle Route using lanes and disused Railway tracks (and also I don't remember seeing the great man on a mountain bike at any stage in his career).

I will need to get out on my bicycle very soon (as soon as the green waves of manflu subside) and put in some serious practice as my PB of getting down to the local Post Office and back (7 miles on the flat) is not going to cut the mustard on the first stage to Penrith. Look out for regular updates to this exciting plan and further excuses to post pictures of Botox Bradbury.

If you can contain your excitement, I've acquired an iPhone App which turns my new phone into a Bike Computer which automatically sends "Tweets" to Twitter with progress and map positions during the trip so both my readers can follow my torture and humiliation from the comfort of their laptops. It hasn't been this good since the web site which followed David Walliams swimming the Channel.

Who said Romance is Dead?

What about this this then?

Star Wars

Watching the National Television Awards last night when the prize category "Star Travel Documentary" turned up.

Gosh, I thought. We really are in the proper 21st Century when there is a whole set of programmes about travel to the stars.

Sadly, it turned out to involve the tired old TV format of taking a Middle Aged Comedian (St Stephen Fry, Billy Connolly, Gordon Ramsey, Griff Rhys Jones, etc) and giving them a free holiday with a film crew which turns into an 8 week series.

Stephen Fry was so excited to win that he (a) turned up, (b) almost wet himself and (c) broke his Twitter silence. Here are his last two Tweets:

"Lordy lordikins, I won. Most lovely & surprising & too too blush-making. If you voted, I adore you & want to lick you everywhere xxxx "

"Oh gracious. I'm in a big emotional puddle. Simultaneously as happy as can be but also oddly disposed to burst into tears. I'm an old silly "

You've got to love him. No, really.

Blue Monday

As I sat this week contemplating Blue Monday and nursing one of the most virulent strains of man-flu imaginable, I suddenly remembered that it's a year since Mr Murph left a large Mr-Murph-shaped-hole in our World.

His legacy lives on of course.

To Oz, he has passed on the steely independence of the proud canine, teaching him that "he's his own dog" and not to conform to anthropomorphic stereotypes (ie do as he's told). Murph actually studied briefly under a certain Springer called Mrs Poll to refine these techniques.

To Lily, he passed on the need to focus, particularly relating to rabbits, hares, cats and deer. She is now ready to take up the baton of covering a whole field in 9 seconds flat, but only, of course, in one direction.

Here's a couple of pics of Mr Murph - I only wish he'd passed onto me the knack of writing original and witty posts.

Diss'd of Tunbridge Wells

Gordon (Mandelson) Brown has recently been making desperate overtures to "the middle classes" in an attempt to regain the central ground of politics.

Well, that's not where it's at Grandad!

I've been checking the new Daily Telegraph iPhone App (OK, OK, I was RESEARCHING A BOOK right?!) this morning and clicked on their "Twitter" section which gives Telegraph Readers the chance to discuss the important issues of the day.

This is what I found:

Strangely, when I went back to check on more of these grass-roots Daily Telegraph views and opinions a couple of hours later, this particular "thread" was no longer there. I was like well rooneyed no wot I'm sain?

The truth about Meerkats and Dogs

The other day I looked out the back window to watch the birds feeding from the garden table and was greeted with this sight:

The stange fossicking creature in the garden reminded me of something and I couldn't quite place it....

And then suddenly I could....

Mouse Scalextric

The back field where we go walking the dogs has a small stand of conifers next to which is an area of corn-on-the-cob-type-corn which is grown for the express use of pheasants.

It's there to encourage them to grow as obese as possible so that pissed old solicitors and estate agents in stupid clothes and Range Rovers can stand a chance of drilling them with lead shot to the amusement of rude mechanicals with straw in their mouths.

Anyway, now that the track between the wood and corn has been covered in snow for a while it is showing up the paths of small creatures who make their way between the two areas in what appears to be a very organised manner. They have little junctions, bridges and tunnels and seem to be coping very well with the conditions without getting paranoid about grit shortages and panic buying.

I don't know if they are mice, rats, stoats, weasels or possibly even a small society of tiny heeby-jeebies. See what you think:

At last! A Post Title without the word "SNOW" in it .... whoops!!!

I know what you're thinking.

Why is my left hand so soft and silkenly smooth?

Well apart from having shaved it recently and applied copious quantities of moisturizer.....

Did I mention I've got an I-Phone?

Last year Charlie Booker was going on about Iphones here.

In his list of constructive suggestions he proposed an Iphone "App" (hey, that's what we call the soft-ware guys!!) to do the following:

" An app that makes the iPhone scream 'I'VE GOT AN IPHONE!' each time the user pulls it out of their pocket. Once activated, it would be impossible to switch off. The only way to stop the constant embarrassment would be to repeatedly crack the device against a wall, or preferably your own face, until it shattered."

FANTASTIC! I'm desperate to get hold of this App but am struggling to find it.

Meet on the Sledge.

Not since Noah sailed off in his big boat and decided to take two of every creature including horrible things like Tics have we seen weather like this! Ark Tic Conditions!

Thankfully whilst we are all huddled around our Plasma Screens reading the Daily Mailygraph and sick with worry, some poor souls are out there keeping the economy and the wheels of social cohesion going!

I'm thinking particularly of Peter Cornwell, RoSPA’s head of leisure safety who has gone to a great deal of trouble to produce this press release. Thank goodness there are dedicated people like him!

His Sledging Guidelines are a byword in Best Practice, extensively workshopped and without, dare I say, slip shod narrative ! Here are some of the interesting and original conclusions he comes to (I've added a few comments in brackets):

•Take time to consider your choice of sledging location – somewhere with deep snow and no obstructions such as trees, fences or rocks is the best. (A hill is quite useful apparently)

•Make sure you have plenty of room at the end of the run to slow down and stop (A brick wall is not a good landing spot)

•Walk up the slope first – it will help you spot hazards, realise how steep the slope really is, and check whether there is enough stopping distance at the bottom (I normally drive up first - I never thought of walking. Thanks Mr C!)

•Only go sledging in the daylight (unless you have BS7832 Lighting fitted to your sled - watch the POI Film "The Sledge of Darkness")

•Wrap up warm, wear gloves and remember that skateboard, cycle and ski helmets and skateboard pads double up well for sledging. (Swimming trunks anyone?)

•If you’re making your own sledge, think about the “what-ifs” if you were to crash – are there sharp edges which you could cut yourself on etc.? (Is it biodegradable? Have you fitted a double-barreleld shotgun to the front? What about those skid-marks?)

Thank goodness there are people like Mr C. literally beavering away on our behalf! In fact only yesterday, RoSPA advised people not to walk out on to the ice of deep frozen waterways, to prevent the type of drowning deaths seen during previous cold spells. Whoever would have thought of that?!

I'm off to do a thorough risk-assessment in the light of these helpful new guidelines. When I get back I'm going to search the Jobs Pages for any vacances in Overpaid Quangos for jobs sitting at a desk writing down the bleeding obvious.

Strange Beasts and Robins

We woke up to extra thick snow this morning and even my mole deterrant was covered - it works off the sun's rays so the garden will now be awash with moles. Not that it ever actually worked of course!

By popular request here is a picture of Lily's Snow Trousers mentioned in the previous post, and an illustration why short-legged breeds were not designed for thick snow.

We encountered a strange small hairy yetti on our morning walk, speeding across our horizon in pursuit of some poor undeserving creature. Or possibly a cat.

And having arranged a complicated pile of garden furniture to prevent Lily from nicking the bird food, we were rewarded with an immediate appearance of Robin.

Slush Puppies

I'm done with snow now, you can take it away thank you very much. I'm up to here with it (indicates knees).

It was just neccessary to pop a couple of snow pictures up so I could use this blog title. Lily in particular develops two little pairs of "snow trousers" after a while in the snow and starts to look a little bit like M.C. Hammer. Only a little bit.

As far as White Christmases are concerned, my new maxim is "be careful what you wish for!",

I'm off to play with my new I-Phone and am more gadget excited about this than at any time since I got my Sinclair ZX-81. Let's hope it's a bit more reliable than that readers!

Quite Insufferable

Some things in life are a mystery to me.

How did Piers Morgan and Alistair Campbell worm their way back onto our Television Screens after the things that they've done? What is the point of Danni Minogue when Kylie is all you need? Why does Clarkson earn millions of pounds a year for being an arse when lots of us can do that?

Most mysterious of all, why is QI in its umteenth series since 2003 riding high in the charts with legions of devoted followers around the world? There are web sites slavishly copying down the transcript of each programme like it was some sort of important religious tract and adoring fan sites on every social network you can name.

I SHOULD like it, I admit.

I enjoy trivia and pub quizes and the programme often features some of my favourite comedians like David Mitchell, Bill Bailey and Sean Locke. I like Stephen Fry -"A Little Bit of Fry & Laurie" is one of my all-time TV Faves - and I even loved "Jonathan Creek" with Alun Davies. I like a panel show format and like a good joke.

But I LOATHE this programme with an intensity totally our of character with my mild-mannered, easy-going  and ultra sociable personality.

I've tried and re-tried to watch QI thinking I can't be SOOO out of step with my peers, but nowadays I can't get past the ultra-twee opening sequence where Fry says a beaming "Good Evening" six times in a row then the four guests press their buzzer in turn to reveal nauseatingly un-humorous sounds as they make vacantly stupid expressions to camera, culminating in the meastro-of-Gurn, Alun Davies. He sits at the front of the class like the teacher's pet, desperate for St Stephen to bestow his approval as he fires away his quips and shows off in front of the others who he knows won't be there next week.

It is grossly unfair that the INFINITELY funnier and more brilliant "Would I Lie to You" comedy panel format with much the same guest list has been shunted around to minority time slots whilst the smug, up-its-own-bottom-so-far-it-requires-surgery Quite Interesting appears to go from strength to strength. I started referring to it as Quite Irritating but that doesn't sufficiently cover the loathesome tweeness of this waste of talent and waste of electricity.

Perhaps somebody could tell me where I'm going wrong?

Happy New Year Everyone!

Aisle be Darned

Father Dave has probably married a lot of people (pause to give Oz a dig for muttering "so have you mate!") but I bet he hasn't seen one like Jill and Kevin's Wedding.

Of course the professional net-loafers amongst you will already be part of the 37 million views on You Tube, but if you haven't seen it before it's a strangely uplifting New Year spectacle and I defy you not to watch till the end.