Thursday, August 31, 2006
It has rained so much today...
huge puddles have occured in interesting places. Now, I'm not one of those pedestrian splasher types who deliberately drive through said pools. This is not my thing, in such circumstances I slow right down or move to the other side. However, it has really, and I mean really pissed down today. Some puddles have stretched the road's width, some have proved deep enough to reach the wheel arches and some have been so deep lost villages, church bells atolling could be seen in their murkey depths. On a stretch of road in Salford that runs parallel to the River Irwell I stopped to consider how safe it would be to continue when Poseidon himself rose out of the waters to declare he was lost. I observed that 40 miles from the sea certainly constituted being lost and he responded by telling me to get fucked. Hmm, seems I wasn't the only one grumpy today.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Over this last weekend...
a traveling fair has occupied a big chunk of Crowcroft Park. Had my beautiful Nikon D50 (a camera I loved more than life itself) not been stolen I might have posted some pictures. Unfortunately the software for my posh Nokia megazillion pixellated phonotron has also ceased to function so no pics via that means either.
On Thursday afternoon the park gates were opened to a convoy of heavy lorries that given the recent rain reduced the grass to a brown paste of Paschendale consistency. Once the rides were constructed I was struck by a common feature, all relied for their thrill to a greater or lesser extent on spinning. Names like The Vomitarium and warnings such as 'Bowel Discipline Required at all Times on this Ride' gave the unwary at least a heads up on what to expect. Indeed one machine was so violent and gallons of sick spewed forth with such force Christian fundamentalists in the crowd assumed it was the second flood. Being swept away obviously encouraged mobile phone dealing as many could be heard shouting at their brokers to buy boats.
It eventually struck me that a fair proportion of the crowd were in sowesters. In fact the spray was such they would not have looked out of place aboard a deep sea trawler fighting to maintain a headway. Thank fuck for the handy ropes as everyone slipped and slid between whirling devices, flashing lights, screams, groans and garish music. Every now and then sluice doors on one apparatus or another parted releasing a deluge of grey exhausted patrons to surge tumbling flopping and foaming into the darkness beyond. Man, all that bile rotted the stitching in my shoes and forced me to walk home unshod, plus I went all wrinkly from the wet and it turned me a shade of yellow. Overall though it was fun.
As per the typical funfair I departed laden with crust some of which set so hard in my hair it took two hours with the wallpaper steamer just get the carrots out.
On Thursday afternoon the park gates were opened to a convoy of heavy lorries that given the recent rain reduced the grass to a brown paste of Paschendale consistency. Once the rides were constructed I was struck by a common feature, all relied for their thrill to a greater or lesser extent on spinning. Names like The Vomitarium and warnings such as 'Bowel Discipline Required at all Times on this Ride' gave the unwary at least a heads up on what to expect. Indeed one machine was so violent and gallons of sick spewed forth with such force Christian fundamentalists in the crowd assumed it was the second flood. Being swept away obviously encouraged mobile phone dealing as many could be heard shouting at their brokers to buy boats.
It eventually struck me that a fair proportion of the crowd were in sowesters. In fact the spray was such they would not have looked out of place aboard a deep sea trawler fighting to maintain a headway. Thank fuck for the handy ropes as everyone slipped and slid between whirling devices, flashing lights, screams, groans and garish music. Every now and then sluice doors on one apparatus or another parted releasing a deluge of grey exhausted patrons to surge tumbling flopping and foaming into the darkness beyond. Man, all that bile rotted the stitching in my shoes and forced me to walk home unshod, plus I went all wrinkly from the wet and it turned me a shade of yellow. Overall though it was fun.
As per the typical funfair I departed laden with crust some of which set so hard in my hair it took two hours with the wallpaper steamer just get the carrots out.
Monday, August 14, 2006
So I went...
to Wales with my mate Bindy, we looked at the sea and the mountains and the tiny little specks at the top which were sheep. Had coffee and cake and more cake, and coffee, and chips (French fries to my American friends) with vinegar and salt. At one point I was leaning over Llandudno Pier looking down at the waves when an enormous seagull swooped and snatched some chips right out of my hand! It had a gun so what's a person to do?
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