The Winter of my Blog

7th December 2017

What’s going on with Labradors? Obviously they’re terrific, I’m not planning to have a go; Labradors look about perfect in the looks department, better even than a dolphin. They’re probably the bestlooking thing in reality, and considering that I’ve just taken receivership of some new spectacles, I’m feeling in the mood to make a judgement on such things. But they are messier than a nursing home detainee and display similar non-attachments to their attention span. Continue reading “The Winter of my Blog”

The Brothers Blogge

22 September 2017

I was following a supercar the other day around Colchester; just me and the McLaren in front, and all the gridlock of that time of day that came along as well. Now I do like a super-duper car, and they look great when they’ve been greased up and flung about a racetrack by Jeremiah Claxon. But I saw my favourite Ferrari driving about the shonky roads near Bala a few months ago, and I fear it may have looked ridiculous, dodging potholes and covered in the colour of Wales.

But that McLaren, burbling along in second gear, looked great, all vulgar and magnificent. It’s what Wagner would be busting around in if he was re-animated and given adrenalin.

Anyway, that was my quick trip back to the flatlands of my homeland, and it was great. Essex brings good tempo (gridlock aside) and raises the voice.

Lots of congratulations to the newlyweds that drew Anna and I back there, and at least two apologies to the fabulous new wife, who’s great train kept making me think of finding some tent pegs… Continue reading “The Brothers Blogge”



The scene was tense, and as off-camber as a poorly adjusted pair of knickers. The Russian looking chap who’d brought along his spectacles, stared at the chess board. He’d spent five years moving the pieces around, and always with the same old hands that he’d moved most things about with for his entire life.

He wasn’t bored with his hands, he liked them both enough that either one could come in a tie for Hand’s first place. But they were itchy; they’d been listening to that little clock tick away for five years, and now they wanted to form a fist and smash that clock into something ruined and littler. The man’s arms knew this, and they would have nothing to do with it. This aggravated the hands further, but they were patient…

Then the moment happened; the stress grafted man made his move on the board and his right fist came down on the clock and crushed it as if it were no more than an empty cherry bakewell casing. The man sat back in his chair, took a bite on his bakewell and adjusted his knickers. Contented that his work was done, he only then realised that it was his move of the game, and he was his only opponent.

The above might perhaps be the only way to announce that The Meifod Claw is now available in a whole merry-go-round of formats! If you carry a trumpet with you, now would be the time… Continue reading “ROLL OUT THE BARRELS!”

Choose Life, Choose Blog, Choose Not to Watch Sequels…

Being a little out of touch with such things, I was recently astounded to see a sequel to a famous slice of British counter culture cinema littering the cheap end of a local McColl’s video stand. Like all reunion gig covers, this one was emblazoned with the font and colour schemes that you will have recognised from the first time around, only this time glazed with middle age and the many furrows of times gone by. You hope that means the playlist comes with journeyman growth and a richer, honeyed soul, but inevitably it’s more likely to mean that the performers just cannot reach the high notes anymore. Worse still, the reunion is going to be acoustic with seating for everyone, regardless of whether or not you have legs that are still utility enough for the task of standing up. Continue reading “Choose Life, Choose Blog, Choose Not to Watch Sequels…”

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