Lizard Love

March 30, 2018 — Leave a comment

There appears to be an abundance of lizards around our property. We see them every day. Sadly some of them sneak into the house and are met by one or all of my five cats who relish the challenge of a snack in motion.

Sad, because the lizards help eliminate little spiders and other tiny insects that can be a bug bear so to speak. I just like watching them out in the sun, soaking up some UV with their fleshy orange colored throat fans throbbing in and out like little lungs, which is their cute way of trying to attract a mate, which answers my original query. When it’s hot and sunny and they’re in heat (so to speak) they make other little geckos. Cool life in a hot climate.

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Just to let you know that while the March for Our Lives was taking place in DC there were protests against guns running concurrently in cities all over Europe. For example in Edinburgh, a protest which I presume had more to do with Trump rather than AR 15s.

As an American citizen I am pro 2nd amendment. Do I like guns? No. Have I held a gun? No. But in this country the 2nd amendment is an absolutely necessity.

Why Europeans were out in the street for this March for Life is beyond me. Paris, London, Glasgow. Lucerne etc. It does not affect them. It affects me because I live here but I can assure you I wasn’t walking up US1 in a pussy hat holding a placard.

The US has a written constitution. The U.K. does not have a written constitution. Maybe David Hogg and his teletubbies should think through the ramifications before jumping head first into their paddling pools.

I am disappointed in Europeans coming out on to the street protesting against something they do not understand. It strikes me more and more that the march was politically motivated and the money that paid for the 30 coaches to rumble into Pennsylvania Avenue did not come from Tinkerbell’s magic dust. Soros paid a million. Clooney paid half a million. Etc. it’s maneuvering new young voters away from the evil Trumpsters so they can get a result in 2018 with virgin voters and henceforth impeach the POTUS. Won’t happen.

I for one will vote Trump so less of the ambivalence about me being a lib on the fence. I’m an independent. I veer right. Hence my vote for Trump in November. Immigration is my big worry. Should be for all Americans. I will not vote Dem. If there is no wall and no resolution to the DACA problem adios America.

So America has to deal with it and cannot be told what to do by some brats that cannot open a tin of beans or change a tire.

And don’t jump off the Trump train over one terrible bill. (The military needed the money. The pork was cancerous.) The consequences would be so severe you’d be better off jumping under the train.

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My grandfather’s brother on my Dad’s side moved his family to Rhodesia from Scotland after WW2. They were in the Diamond business. His daughter became Editor of the Hong Kong Wall St Journal. Very successful. Proud protestants, generous to everyone who worked for them.

Since the whites have been marginalized and these animals have taken over this is going to end up in a complete and utter bloodbath. The black population over there haven’t got a clue how to live like normal human beings in a civilized society.

It’s not racist. Ian Smith, was probably one of the most controversial Prime Minister’s ever, but Rhodesia prospered under his leadership. Now he has long gone, we can see the inevitable result and we can probably agree things are not going to end well. This is a disaster in the making. We have to support the white farmers.

Star Wars Whim

December 26, 2017 — Leave a comment

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MGM Hollywood at Disney have had their old Movie based attractions pulled out to make way for more Star Wars rides. There was, until a couple of years ago a shop at the entrance that sold old Hollywood memorabilia. Where you could buy autographed photos of Clark Gable and The Marx Brothers, amongst many others.
Space is also being reserved for a Toy Story themed extravaganza. (See above.) Therefore, with all this building going on, there are only about four rides operating at this park at the moment. The Back Lot tour is gone as is the Hollywood boat ride through the different years of the golden era.
So if you are a big Star Wars fan and like Toy Story it is safe to say you will enjoy this park when it is ready. For me it will be a sad day and I predict this will turn out to be a big mistake. Disney is all about tradition and when you turn your back on such memories you are left with a whim and one that will fade with the passage of time. Like the American Idol studio in the park that closed. Thankfully.

Magical Thoughts

December 9, 2017 — Leave a comment

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When I experience hurt

I indulge

In magical thinking.

Very annoying

For others,

Unfamiliar with the technicalities

Behind my tricks.

 

 

He or she

May say,

That “I” am mistaken in my observations.

But with the wave of

My magical thinking wand,

I create mystical anagrams,

And hey presto,

I pull a bunny

Straight out of

The top hat.

 

Sadly, the rabbits

Only live as long

As the delusion,

And I find it draining

When they keep coming along

Day after day after day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another Round Of Bullets

November 5, 2017 — 1 Comment

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Sutherland Springs in Texas. Perhaps 27 men, women and children have lost their lives as they sat saying their prayers.

This is an act of evil. He will rot in hell. The souls of the deceased will live on in eternity. Another sad and tragic experience.

The Dinner

November 4, 2017 — Leave a comment

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Ode To Social Anxiety

 

Sitting opposite my wife

With my napkin

On my lap,

I gripped my fork and stabbed the duck,

Marinated in weird oriental sauces, so I thought,

Served with a smashed potato,

As I was crushed by an

Intensifying anxiety,

Aware (or thinking) that the two diners

At the next table

Were watching me.

 

My mouth was as dry as the skin on the bird,

My stare as steely as the knife by the dinner plate,

And the guy with the beard and glasses grinned

And whispered something to his wife

Who turned around

To look at me.

 

And I chewed on the meat that was as tough as nails

Between my teeth,

 

And I knew I was not only fighting a losing battle

With my culinary skills

But also, the people around me,

Who I knew,

Found my side profile odd,

And disconcerting.

That was the only explanation I could find.

 

We were on a ship and had no choice,

Our seats were allotted arbitrarily,

At the reception desk,

And my fellow diners, complete strangers,

Now had to contend

With my presence,

Having spoiled their evening

With my glancing and scanning

To see who was watching,

And guessing that they must be thinking

What I knew to be true,

Without validation.

 

I do look odd from the side,

So they say,

And the duck, was really quite tough.

When the diners had gone

I asked the waiter

“What was the sauce” and he said

It was  plum puree.

Plum.

Puree.

 

And the ship sailed along

As we finished our wine

A man sang a song

We were both feeling fine,

And the diners had gone

To their cabins to sleep

Outside there were stars

And waters so deep.

 

But I didn’t go back

The following night

To our table

Beside

The strangers.

The inherent dangers

Of projecting our fears

On each other

Can be put aside

Because

We will never see

Each other again.

 

 

 

 

Water and Ice

July 29, 2017 — Leave a comment
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I recall a short story I had written in school back in Scotland looking out of our window at the whirling snowstorm blanketing our streets, roofs and gardens. We were young. My teacher said we could reach for the stars. I questioned that statement.
It fell fast and hard as we threw snowballs at each other in the back green. We stopped and together the three of us made a snowman. Over five feet tall with chestnuts for its eyes and baby carrots for its lips. I was so uncomfortable, perspiring as a chilly wind blew through my thick wooly jumper specifically made to keep you protected from the elements.
When completed, I stepped back to admire my work. The snowman’s expression was not one of joy but fear. I rearranged the lips physically with my fingers turning them into a smile. But as the snow fell faster the expression changed once again and looking into the chestnut eyes of this inanimate object I knew there was nothing else I could do.
There was nothing he could do either. He had no brain, therefore no courage, no heart therefore no pulse, and regardless of my desire to alter this thing I could not change, I watched helplessly as its physical appearance morphed moment by moment into something I had not created. A thin crust of ice had formed around the body. There was nothing left but a large lumpy pile of snow as icy blasts shot through our garden.
And they told me I could be anything I wanted to be. That’s what the teacher said. Anything. Reach for the stars. And I guessed it was all a lie. I knew at the end there was one ultimate truth. Whatever we were here, we would all disappear, regardless of our understanding of love and hate.
I walked towards the snowman and systematically pulled it apart. I swiped, punched and kicked as the wind blew harder and the fierce biting wind attacked every fibre of my flesh. I crushed this thing until it was gone. The water was still water, the ice was still ice but the man was no more. Because, quite simply, he had never been in the first place.
I looked up at the dark grey clouds and felt thousands upon thousands of snowflakes swirling around me, melting on my lips and blinding my eyes. I was awake and I knew I was not dreaming. I knew I was alive and I knew in my heart I would be spending some extra time in space on this little planet.

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I really believe that the human

Race has no finishing line

But we all fall dead

At different points

Along this pointless course,

Or else we are taken

Off the track

To a track less run

Where we can live out our dreams

Away from uncivilized civilization.

My First Drink

May 8, 2017 — 2 Comments

This is how I described my first drink of Scotch. The biggest mistake I made in my life. It was my gateway into a path of self destructiveness that brought me close to death. But the story is about bullies. Alcohol is the biggest bully of them all.

 

The fire was so nice and warm. Dying out of course. A few embers poking through the ashes. I took a drink and poked the fire. Some sparks and little flames popped up. The red spots under the ashes were fading so I picked up a fire lighter and placed it on the coals. For a few seconds there was a strong smell of paraffin. Then pop. Blue flame casting shadows at the back of the fireplace and around the sitting room. Shapes dancing in silence with a beautiful warmth and strange excitement. I poured another drink and sat on the floor in front of the fire. Getting warmer. More comfortable. My worries dissipated. I liked the feeling. The absence of worry. And the blurry feeling in my head. I wanted to chase these shadows round and round the room as the excitement mounted. My mind was telling me everything’s all right now. You can do what you want. Anything. No restrictions. Nothing’s holding you back. Then I fell into a faultless sleep.